Scene 21: The Vicious FATMOUSE

(Adapted from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Names and actions courtesy of event that occur at the Rumor Forum.)

This scene was requested by Dano. I messed up when I originally posted this and made Rumorsage the opening Knight. It should have been Dano. I have since fixed it. I think it’s better that he corrects Geof, anyway.

[clop clop clop]
[whinny whinny]

SIR DANO:
They’re nervous, sire.

TYRANT GEOF:
Then we’d best leave them here and carry on on foot. Dis-mount!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Behold the Critical Critic Board!

TYRANT GEOF:
Right! Keep me covered.

SIR DANO::
What with?

TYRANT GEOF:
W– just keep me covered.

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Too late!
[dramatic chord]

TYRANT GEOF:
What?

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
There he is!

TYRANT GEOF:
Where?

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
There!

TYRANT GEOF:
What, behind the fat mouse?

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
It is the FATMOUSE!

TYRANT GEOF:
You silly sod!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
What?

TYRANT GEOF:
You got us all worked up!

MIC THE ENCHANTER: Well, that’s no ordinary FATMOUSE! FATMOUSE TAKES UMBRAGE AT THE SIGHT OF YOUR SMALL TORSO AND WEAK FLACCID LIMBS. FATMOUSE IS NEVER FOOLED BY IMITATORS.

TYRANT GEOF:
Ohh.

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
That’s the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on! FATMOUSE WILL SPEAK AND YOU WILL LISTEN. FATMOUSE LIKES TO EAT. FATMOUSE DOES NOT CARE FOR YOUR MONEY OR YOUR SOCIAL STATUS OR YOUR STUPID ORDERED LIVES. FATMOUSE CARES ONLY FOR YOUR CARBOHYDRATES. FATMOUSE MUST FEED.

ANOYMOUS COWARD:
You nit! I soiled my armour I was so scared!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Look, FATMOUSE’S got a vicious streak a mile wide! It’s a killer! FATMOUSE CAN MAKE YOU A WINNER. FATMOUSE CAN MAKE YOU A LOSER. FATMOUSE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT EITHER. IT IS FOR YOU TO CARE ABOUT FATMOUSE.

SIR DANO:
Get stuffed!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
He’ll do you up a treat, mate. FATMOUSE HAS NO PATIENCE BUT MUCH HUNGER.

SIR DANO:
Oh, yeah?

ANOYMOUS COWARD:
You mangy Scots git!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
I’m warning you! FATMOUSE IS COMING AND HE HAS A MESSAGE AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LIKE IT. FATMOUSE WILL CONSUME YOUR POOR THIN WORLD AND REGURGITATE IT IN HIS OWN IMAGE. FATMOUSE DOES NOT WORK FOR YOU AND HE DOES NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR MEAGRE HOPES AND DREAMS. IT IS BETTER TO WALK WITH FATMOUSE THAN TO BE IN HIS PATH, FOR FATMOUSE MUST FEED.

ANOYMOUS COWARD:
What’s he do, nibble your bum?

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
He’s got huge, sharp– eh– he can leap about– look at the bones! AS YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE, THE SCALES ARE TIPPED IN FAVOUR OF FATMOUSE. YOU ARE BUT ANOTHER CONSUMABLE IN A LONG LINE OF CONSUMABLES.

TYRANT GEOF:
Go on, COZART. Chop his head off!

COZART:
Right! Silly little bleeder. One FATMOUSE stew comin’ right up!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Look!
[squeak]

COZART:
Aaaugh!
[dramatic chord]
[clunk]

TYRANT GEOF:
Cripes!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
I warned you!

ANOYMOUS COWARD:
I done it again!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
I warned you, but did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn’t you? Oh, it’s just a harmless little mouse, isn’t it? Well, it’s always the same. I always tell them–

TYRANT GEOF:
Oh, shut up!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Do they listen to me?

TYRANT GEOF:
Right!

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Oh, no…

BARTENDERS:
Charge!
[squeak squeak squeak]

BARTENDERS:
Aaaaugh!, Aaaugh!, etc.

TYRANT GEOF:
Run away! Run away!

BARTENDERS:
Run away! Run away!…

MIC THE ENCHANTER:
Ha ha ha ha! Ha haw haw! Ha! Ha ha!

TYRANT GEOF:
Right. How many did we lose?

TREY:
Sir Luke.

SIR DANO:
Sir Dave

TYRANT GEOF:
And COZART. That’s five.

SIR DANO:
Three, sir.

TYRANT GEOF:
Three. Three. And we’d better not risk another frontal assault. That FATMOUSE’S dynamite.

ANOYMOUS COWARD:
Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?

TYRANT GEOF:
Oh, shut up and go and change your armour.

SIR DANO:
Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will make a mistake.

TYRANT GEOF:
Like what?

SIR DANO:
Well… ooh.

TREY:
Have we got bows?

TYRANT GEOF:
No.

TREY:
We have the Holy Lizzie, Adriene’s cat.

TYRANT GEOF:
Yes, of course! The Holy Lizzie, Adriene’s cat of Antioch! ‘Tis one of the sacred animals FOLKYSAINT carries with him. FOLKYSAINT! Bring up the Holy Lizzie, Adriene’s cat!

MONKS: [chanting]
Pie Iesu domine, dona eis Feliem. Pie Iesu domine, dona eis Feliem.
Pie Iesu domine, dona eis Feliem. Pie Iesu domine, dona eis Feliem.

TYRANT GEOF:
How does she, um– how does she work?

TREY:
I know not, my liege.

TYRANT GEOF:
Consult the Book of Opinions! [sneeze]

FOLKYSAINT:
Opinions, chapter two, verses nine to twenty-one.

RICHARD:
And Saint Attila raised the Lizzie, Adriene’s cat up on high, saying, ‘O Lord, bless this Thy Lizzie, Adriene’s cat that, with her, Thou mayest shred Thine enemies to tiny bits in Thy mercy.’

And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs and marmosets and Starbucks and okra and orangutans and Colon Blow and fruit bats and large chu–

FOLKYSAINT:
Skip a bit, Brother.

RICHARD:
And the Lord spake, saying, ‘First shalt thou take off the Holy Leash. Then, shalt thou count to three. No more. No less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then, lobbest thou thy Holy Lizzie, Adriene’s cat of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in My sight, shall snuff it.’

FOLKYSAINT:
Amen.

BARTENDERS:
Amen.

TYRANT GEOF:
Right!
One!… Two! [sneeze]… Five!

SIR DANO:
Three, sir!

TYRANT GEOF:
Three! [sneeze]
[MARK DESHAZO sings]
[meow, ffffffttt, squeeeeek!]

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