~~THE PERFORMANCE THREAD~~ **aside** ((action)) %%thought%%

[Pipedream]

((Enchanted by the Sheep Trainer's love poem, the Props Magician urges Max Raabe and his Palastorchester to the Broken Arsed Mountain set again to play something appropriate...))



↓(Play me!)

[Lumière]

((Enchanted by the Sheep Trainer's love poem, the Props Magician urges Max Raabe and his Palastorchester to the Broken Arsed Mountain set again to play something appropriate...))

LUCISE I:

Dear Ms Anky Spanky, you're the best!!
I hope you'll provide some more Maxie Raabe for the wedding reception!   

[Daniel]

GUY RAPHAELSON:

((A long, grueling day of phone-conversations, complete with telecommunications breakdown and, thanks to the rapidly developing international marketing aspects of Broken Arsed Mountain, a phenomenal language barrier later, Guy Raphaelson sits in a silent office, nursing a rapidly developing headache with whatever means he has available. He considers loosening his tie but thinks better on it.))

((He opens the window to let in some cool air and along with it enters the musical notes of Max Raabe and the band.))

%% Well, that's soothing, at least. %%

((Guy starts to put all his files back into their correct order, first alphabetically, then by date, taking some small pleasure in the little ritual that sets his mind at ease. His mind begins to drift however... he finds himself thinking of getting back home.))

%% Home? That trailer? I wouldn't hardly call that home? %%

((Guy realizes with a start that he calls it home because that is where Lucise is, and he nearly drops everything on the floor. He calms himself down a bit, stacks the papers neatly in his briefcase, buttons up his blazer and heads out the door.))

[saucycobblers]

((Soothed by the lavender aroma in YOUNG JACK's pocket, and oblivious to all the weddin' commotion and baby birthin' goin' on, JBB drifts in and out of fitful sleep. His dreams are consumed by portentous images of TERRY CLOTH, their last sad parting and the creamy tears they both shed. JBB feels a rising panic in his gut... or is that just where YOUNG JACK's Wranglers are catching him at an unfortunate angle?... in any case, JBB does not feel good about the way things are coming to his handlid. Will he ever see TERRY again? Will Buneen and her daddy, L.D. Newbun, get to him before he can touch his flanelletted friend again? With his mood growing ever darker, JBB remembers a song his mama used to sing to him when he was a sample tube... a sad story called The Warshrag's Lament.))

%%As I walked out in the streets of Riverton,
As I walked out in Riverton one day,
I spied a poor warshrag wrung out like in dishcloth,
Wrung out like a dishcloth and cold as the clay.

Oh, warsh the rag gently and spin the drum slowly,
Play the harmonica as you carry me along;
Take me to Broken Arse, there lay me on the drying rack,
For I'm a young warshrag and I know I've done wrong.

"I see by your tubing that you are a butt-cream"
These words he did say as I boldly rolled by.
"Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story;
I am shot in the weft and I know I must die."

"Let sixteen HIGH PRIESTESSES come handle my coffin
Let sixteen of CHER's wigs come sing me a song.
Take me to the Relic's Room and lay JAMMY PANTS o'er me,
For I'm a poor warshrag and I know I've done wrong."

"My friends and relations they live in Warshington DC (Delicates Cycle),
They know not where their warshrag has gone.
He first came to Broken Arse and hired to a sheepherder,
Oh, I'm a young warshrag and I know I've done wrong."

"It was once in ENNIS's pocket I used to go warshing,
It was once in his JAMMY PANTS I used to go gay;
First to the Relic's Room and then to the pup tent;
Got shot in the weft and I am dying today."

"Get six JOLLY MINISTERS to carry my coffin;
Get six TWIRLING PASTIES to bear up my pall.
Put flakes of detergent all over my coffin,
Put softener to deaden the suds as they fall."

"Then put me on 'delicates' and set the spin slowly,
And give a 'yeehaw!' as you carry me along,
And in the drum throw me and roll the suds o'er me,
For I'm a young warshrag and I know I've done wrong."

"Oh, bury beside me a feather from Lil' Ollie,
He’s the best thing ‘bout me and I done him wrong,
And over my coffin put a bottle o' Sheep Pee Whiskey,
That ENNIS may drink as he carries me along."

"Go bring me a cup, a cup of hot water,
To fluff up my parched loops," the warshrag then said;
Before I returned his soul had departed,
And gone to the laundromat -- the warshrag was dead.

We warshed the rag gently and spun the drum slowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along;
For we all loved our warshrag, so brave, young and handsome,
We all loved our warshrag although he'd done wrong.%%

((JBB continues to rock gently and hum softly, lost in thoughts of TERRY CLOTH...))

[Pipedream]

Owl Olivia:
%% I have a feeling that the butt lotion is going to sing out loud at any moment. Well, I'm prepared... %%   

[Pipedream]

Impatient audience member on one of the cheaper seats...:

[Arad-3]

Auience Member:

And then  Another Audience Member who seemed to be taking notes right along,  points out...

[saucycobblers]

((JBB, ignoring the scary audience member-prophet in the front row, peeks out from YOUNG JACK's pocket and sees nothing but...TUMBLEWEED))

JBB:

**Where the effen 'ell is everyone??**

TUMBLEWEED:

**Yeehaw!!**

[Kelda]

JB Newsome:

**Well I think I'm done with now. Does that mean I can retire to my next big film - Free Willy 7 - the Directors Cut? **

[Daniel]

LAUREL SPARTA:

((Arrives on set to find it mostly empty.))

**What is going on here? Where is the director?!!! We'll never get through this in time.**

((Walks up to the director's office and bangs on the door impatiently.))