'Imbeciles' Scene 4

SCENE FOUR

(The scene opens on an operahouse.  The Tramp and Kevin are standing in an aisle and appear to be conversing.)

Kevin:  …and that’s the gist of it.

Tramp:  That’s brilliant.  You’re brilliant.

Kevin (smugly):  Thanks, I try.  Though, you’re no caveman yourself.  How’d a man like you end up homeless anyways?

Tramp:  I majored in English.

Kevin:  Such a pity.  You’re worth so much more than that idiotic butler.

Tramp:  Again, not saying much, mate.

Kevin:  So, are we clear on--

Tramp:  Shh!!  Here he comes!

(Both become silent as Whiskers enters the theater and takes a seat near them.

Whiskers:  Arr, ‘that be that’, as they say.

Kevin:  The two investigators gone?

Whiskers:  Indeed they be.  We was assuredly lucky to have somebody like that buffoon Holmes on the scene, aye?

Kevin:  Almost as lucky as the fact that we stumbled upon the most capable vagabond this side of Paris.

Whiskers:  Aye, there be somethin’ I be needin’ t’ask ye. Is (pointing to Tramp) he with us or…?

Kevin:  Yep.  Bought him out.

Whiskers:  How much does he know?

Tramp:  Everything.

(Whiskers turns to Kevin for confirmation.  The latter nods.)

Kevin:  He’s right.

(Whiskers gives a high whistle.)

Whiskers: That be adding another, though.  How we gonna split it?

Kevin:  Oh, it’ll work out, trust me.

Tramp:  Anyway, explain the plan.

Kevin:  Oh, I’ll slip out a ways in.  You two have to stay till the end to avoid suspicion.

Whiskers:  Does that leave us enough time?

Kevin:  Trust me.  It’ll work out.

Whiskers:  Yarr, what do we do when it’s done?

Kevin (looking around):  The seats are filling up, I can’t say more.  I already told him (points to the Tramp) what to do.  He’ll fill you in.

(The trio sit comfortably and wait for the beginning of The Pope’s Sandwich.  In the meantime, Duckworth and Holmes enter the back of the theater.  The two detectives do not notice the three men up front; neither does Kevin and his gang notice Holmes and Duckworth.  The duo take a pair of seats near the back.)

Holmes:  I think it went rather well.

Duckworth (darkly): Rather well?  The chief yelled various threats and obscenities at us for nearly ten minutes, and that was before you mentioned our…how did you put it?  Our “Visitation from beyond the grave.”  On our way out he threw his mug at your head and told you that you soiled what family dignity you had not already erased beyond recognition through sheer uselessness and foolishness.  As we left, his secretary, feeling sorry for us, handed us tickets to this opera, telling us to go enjoy life as civilians.

Holmes:  Well, compared to how he normally reacts when I deliver my reports, I think I’ve seen some significant improvement.  Those anger management classes are really paying off.

Duckworth:  Good lord, how on earth have you managed to keep your job for so long?

Holmes:  As my old father said, “nepotism will carry you far!”

Duckworth:  You have got to be the stupidest person I’ve ever met.

Holmes:  And on top of that I’m humble, too!

(Duckworth begins to make sobbing sounds.)

Duckworth:  I’ve just realized what my life means when I spend most of my time around you.

Holmes:  Oh, come now, Dorkworth!  Just hand me a program, will you?

(Duckworth leers at him evilly.)

Holmes:  …what?

Duckworth:  Dorkworth?  I refuse to believe this is accidental!

Holmes:  Funny, that’s what the chief says to me all the time.  The “refuse to believe” bit, you’ll understand.  Ah, but here we have the program!  Let’s see the synopsis.  A-hem--One day, a servant in a nobleman’s house was off butling when he found a wonderful relic; a moldy old sandwich.  Inside was a message from a Pope who had been dead two centuries past.  Thus begins the greatest opera of our time, which sweeps the reader off their feet into a whirlwind of betrayal, hatred, romance, murder, hope, and examination of the human psyche.  Purple Satin Theatre proudly presents to you, the viewer, the triumph that is The Pope’s Sandwich!

Duckworth:  Please, gag me.

Holmes:  It’s starting!

(The opera begins.  Edeline takes the stage and begins a pastiche of classic opera-related actions, such as singing, dancing, etc.  When she leaves there is a smattering of light applause.)

Kevin (whispering to others):  I’m leaving now. You know what to do.

Tramp:  Right.  Whiskers: Avast, we do.

(Kevin leaves.  The opera resumes, and Edeline again takes center stage.  When it is over, Holmes and Duckworth stand up, conversing.)

Duckworth:  I honestly think I was more miserable then than I have ever been in my entire life.

Holmes:  You didn’t like it?

Duckworth?  Like it?!  It was a crime against nature!!

Holmes:  Oh, don’t be so harsh.  That scene with the octopus and the apple pie brought me to tears.

Duckworth: It nearly brought me to vomiting.

(They pantomime continued conversation as the action shifts to Whiskers and the Tramp.)

Whiskers:  Arr, so what we be doin’ now?

Tramp:  Well, I’m sure you know, they’re currently at the house, doing the job.

Whiskers:  But that flotsam opera di’nt give ‘em enough time to work, I expect.

Tramp:  Kevin knows that.  That’s why he’s got it set up for a scapegoat to cause a whole lot of ruckus here to divert the attention of the police, and take the fall while the rest of us get away.

Whiskers:  Who?

Tramp (smiles wickedly): You.

Whiskers (taken aback): ME?!  Arr, you’ll be keelhauled fer—

(Whiskers stops as the Tramp takes out a metallic box with colorful knobs and an antennae.)

Whiskers:  By Davy Jones, be that—

Tramp:  Your control panel?  Uh-huh.

Whiskers:  Where’d ye—

Tramp:  Kevin gave it to me.  Oh, what’s the matter, are you forced to do everything that this box tells you to?

(Whiskers gives a fearful nod.)

Tramp:  Let’s get to work!

(As the Tramp begins pushing buttons and dials on the pad, Edeline steps out and begins greeting opera patrons.)

Edeline:  Thank you for visiting the Purple Satin Theatre.  I, Edeline Monto—

(Whiskers rushes across, making tons of noise, acting erratically, and generally going on a rampage.)

Whiskers:  BATTEN DOWN THE HATCHES!  YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edeline:  What in…?  Captain Whiskers!  You are ruining my publicity!  I demand you leave at once!

Whiskers (ignoring her):  Yo-Ho-Ho-Ho!

(He begins chasing patrons.  Holmes and Duckworth look on with astonishment.)

Holmes:  Well, that’s not very nice of that Whiskers fellow.

Duckworth:  I knew he was up to something!  Let’s go arrest him while we still have our badges!

(She goes to arrest Whiskers, but Holmes holds her back.)

Holmes:  Wait!  Wait!

Duckworth:  What?

Holmes:  I want to do the booking!

Duckworth:  What?!  This is the worst possible time!

Holmes:  Please?

Duckworth:  Oh, fine, there you go.

(Holmes steps up to confront Whiskers.)

Holmes:  Excuse me sir, I—

(He is promptly bowled over by Whiskers who rushes past, singing sea shanties.  Holmes gets up.)

Holmes:  That’s alright, I can make this work, I’ll just—

(Bowled over again this time from behind.  Gets up again, a bit unsteadily.)

Holmes:  Third time’s the charm.

(Knocked down again.)

Holmes:  Fourth.

(And again.)

Holmes:  Fifth.

(Once more.)

Holmes (now very befuddled):  S—Sixth…

(Bowled down a sixth time.  Duckworth rushes in and drags him off before he can get to his feet again.)

Duckworth:  I’ve think that’s enough heroics for today, sir.

Holmes:  N—Non…sense.  Sev…seventh time’s…the…

(He gets up woozily, and regains his senses.  Edeline runs up to the duo.)

Edeline:  Oh!  Inspector!  And Mrs.  What’s-Your-Face!

Duckworth:  It’s Duck—oh, never mind.

Edeline:  This is just awful!  Captain Whiskers is destroying the theatre!

Duckworth:  Is there any way to stop him?

Edeline:  I doubt he’s in self-control.  Somebody around here’s got to be fooling around with his control box.

Holmes (noticing and pointing to the Tramp):  Like him?

Duckworth:  What?  That diabolical hobo!

Edeline: “Poverty-capable per”—

Duckworth:  SHUT UP!!

Holmes:  You two go distract that robot.  I’ll cuff the tramp!

Duckworth:  How?

Holmes:  I’ve got a plan.

Duckworth:  That frightens me very, very much.

Holmes:  Just go!

(The two women run off.  Holmes approaches the Tramp.)

Holmes:  Excuse me, sir.

Tramp:  Hm?  Oh, it’s you.  Go away.  I’m causing havoc.

Holmes (with confidence):  Your shoe’s untied.

Tramp (with derision):  Go away.

Holmes:  No, really!

Tramp:  You’re lying.

Holmes:  I swear!

Tramp: I’m homeless!  I’m not even wearing shoes!!

Holmes:  Are so!

Tramp:  Am not.

Holmes:  Are so!

Tramp (Angrily):  I am shoeless!

Holmes (points to the Tramp’s bare feet):  I can see them right there.

(The Tramp angrily walks up to Holmes to point out his lack of shoes.)

Tramp:  Listen to me, you imbecile.  Look at my feet!  I am NOT wearing any—

(Holmes pulls out a pair of handcuffs and slaps them on the Tramp’s wrists.)

Holmes:  Gotcha!

Tramp:  I don’t know which is more humiliating, the fact that I fell for that trick or the fact that I was outsmarted by you.

Holmes:  Oh, the latter, for sure!  It’s elementary!

(Edeline and Duckworth approach, dragging a non-operating Whiskers with them.)

Duckworth:  Mr. Holmes, why don’t you go bring that beggar into the station while we still have a chance to salvage our careers.

Holmes (pleasantly): Can do!

(He leads the Tramp offstage.)

Duckworth:  Now, then, you’ll tell me everything I need to know, won’t you?

Whiskers:  Nay I say, nay!  I’d rather walk the plank!

Duckworth:  Curses.  If only there was some way to make him tell the truth…

Edeline (holding up the control box):  You mean like this?

Duckworth:  What’s this?  A “tell the truth” button?  How convenient.

(She presses it.)

Whiskers:  Oh, sea-monkeys.

Duckworth:  Now then.  Who killed Mrs. Montoya?

Whiskers:  Nobody.

Duckworth:  Excuse me?  Edeline:  What?!

Whiskers:  Yarr, ye heard me.  Nobody.  She ain’t dead.

Edeline:  WHAT?!?!?!

Duckworth:  Didn’t see THAT coming.

Whiskers:  Yarr, ye be knowin’ how Kevin said he be a pacifist?  He be tellin’ the truth.  He be having ninja trainin’, but he also be bein’ a pacifist, so he never be killin’ anybody.  He knows how to, though, and make it look like some lubber has died.  He’s a professional death-faker; he helps shipmates like Montoya fake their deaths.

Edeline:  But…why would my mother fake her own death?

Whiskers:  Ye know she be greedy and forced ye to leave her everything in your will?

Edeline:  Yes…

Whiskers:  Avast, one day it hit her that ye weren’t shippin’ out—that is, dying—anytime soon.  So, she decided to fake her death today, the day of your new opera, and use the spare time while ye were gone to have Kevin help her steal everything of value from your house.  Bein’ “dead”, so to speak, nobody’d ever suspect her.  She be comin’ to me recently; I was supposed to help by turnin’ off the security cameras and taking credit for there being no “evidence” in the room, and by controlin’ the houses lighting and air conditionin’ to help her appear to be a “ghost” when she appeared to remind ye of tonight’s engagement, arr.  We was supposed to split yer fortune three ways: between me, her, and Kevin.  But those two salts duped me in favor o’ that lubber vagrant.

Edeline:  So…this whole thing was a scam to trick me out of my property and possessions?

Whiskers:  Aye, avast.

(Holmes reappears.)

Holmes:  Hello, ladies!  The chief booked him straight.  Said he was astonished I could do a…what was it now?...could do a “job that didn’t completely tarnish your own reputation and that of the station, Mr. Holmes.”  Something like that.

Duckworth:  Sir, we’ve got bigger fish to fry!  We’ve got to head back to Edeline’s mansion.

Holmes (astonished):  But…what about taking him to the station?

Edeline:  No need.

(She fiddles with the control box.  Whiskers gets up and stiffly walks out the door.)

Edeline: I just programmed him to go and turn himself in.  Now, let’s go catch my mother!

(They exit.)