.Vaudevilliput: Story in 10 acts (& Intermission)

I'd made a couple of notes, just ideas for jokes, on the first act when the MC announced Act 2: Max Ehrmann’s Desiderata, performed by Tommy Lutehorn and the town of Pestleitteldown

The second act is usually a musical number. Something to listen to, a bit of scenery, signals to the audience that the show is actually beginning. The curtain rose and we had a human male in a minstrel outfit standing on the outskirts of a Lilliputian town. He strumed his lute and walked down the street into the city, speaking the lines of the famous poem.

“Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.” He stepped into an intersection, tiny cars screeching to a halt to avoid hitting his foot. Horns honked. His foot struck a clock tower, it collapsed.

“As far as possible," he continued, "without surrender, be on good terms with all persons." He smiled down on the populace, waving at the little people who were throwing rubble at him.

“Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.” The lute music didn't quite match his actions with the instrument. But it wasn't bad enough to detract from the scene. Cops arrived, sirens blasting. They got out of their cars, the populace pointing up at the giant to complain, loudly. A policeman started waving the minstrel out of town. Minstrel smiled back.

The cop pulled a gun as he got to: “Avoid loud and aggressive persons.”

Tommy listened to the cop and started to frown. He kicked the cop over the nearest building.

“They are vexations to the spirit,” he concluded. With a sigh, Tommy regained his smile.

“If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter,” he went on. The other cop ran inside a building, appearing on a balcony, screaming with rage. He was ignored.

“For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.” Right behind Tommy, a Brobdingragian-sized boot stepped down on the stage, crushing the building with the cop, then carried on as if a giant walked by.

“Enjoy your achievements, as well as your plans.” He stepped past a metal statue of a war hero. He snapped the raised sword off the statue and picked his teeth with it.

"Keep interested in your own career, however humble," he went on. Adjusting the lute, he strummed a note and every visible pane of glass in the town shattered.

“It's a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.” He slung his lute case off of his shoulder and placed it down on the ground, as street performers will for donations.

“Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.”

He strummed a bit more, looked down, and caught two Lilliputian boys trying to carry off a dollar coin from his case. He kicked the case, they fell out, but the coin dropped back in.

“But let this not blind you to what virtue there is." A tiny blind man with a cup out tapped his way between Tommy’s feet. Tommy smiled and dropped a coin into the cup. A giant coin. The cup was crushed from the impact, the old man rolled around on the street, moaning in pain.

“Many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.”

The thieves rushed to the blind man’s side and helped him stand. One boy supported the old man as they walked away. The other recovered the dropped coin and rolled it along with them.

“Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection." A prostitute walked up the street and waved up at Tommy, who winked back. He took the rose from his hat and dropped it on her. She screamed as the giant blossom descended.

“Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantement, it is as perrenial as the grass." She pulled herself out from under the flower, ran up and kicked him in the foot. He didn't notice.

“Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.” He tipped his head in a bow, the hair of his head dropped off en masse, revealing a balding pate. The hair landed on the prostitute, burying her once again.

“Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.” More cops showed up, dragging giant shackles off of a trailer. They approached Tommy.

“But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.” With hardly a blink, he swept the stem of his lute down, lifting the shackles and swinging them away out of sight.

“Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.” While the citizens still screeched and pointed to the property destruction, the cops showed signs of fatigue and schlepped off.

“Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.” Tavern workers rolled a giant barrel of beer from behind a tavern. Tommy swooped it up, downed it in a single draught, tossed the empty over his shoulder.

“You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here." Little children swarmed from a building and began playing around his feet.

“And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” Grownups affixed a ball and string to the top of his minstrel slippers and kids start playing tetherball around his ankles.

“Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be.” A christian cross rose from the rubble behind him, with a Lilliputian Egg nailed to it. It dropped out of sight again.

“And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.” A really good whack on the tetherball, it broke the tether and flew up to strike Tommy in the balls. The word ‘peace’ was spoken in a whole different register, the rest finished in a whisper.

“With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” Tommy sank to his knees, forcing the line between clenched teeth. The children cheered.

“Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.” The smile was obviously forced. His eyes crossed, the lute played weakly. The curtain dropped before Tommy did.

For the segue, a spotlight shone on a bottle of champagne in an icebucket. A tuxedoed man walked around from behind the bottle, singing “Tiny Bubbles…” then an enormous belch from within knocked him off of the ice bucket. The light went out.

I sat considering the stage after the poem. "Is there a Lilliput liason?" I asked the theatre in general.

"Right here," came a voice behind my coffee mug. A little brunette woman, with a clipboard and a headset, stepped into view. "Jeenedi Gaspa at your service."

I nodded toward the stage, indicating the last act. "I loved that, but wonder exactly how safe...?"

"Not to worry," she assured me. "That bit's been performed in the Mildendo Opera House for a year, now. Razor sharp choreography, meticulously built props, no injuries since the second day of rehearsal. And that one wasn't fatal, but put everyone in the proper frame of mind."