Int: The Gastronomy Institute, treatment room.

MARCIA is lying on an observation sofa. She is semi-catatonic, but her eyes are open. Her expression is tormented, lost. Streaks of mascara from her red eyes all the way to the floor – that is how much she has been crying. DR. ADAMSON is sitting in a chair by the desk. He is holding a large double scotch and cradling his tired head in his free hand.

DR. ADAMSON

Oy vey. Another week, another complete disaster. Will all our schemes be undone again?

 

MARCIA

Aaah… Gord loveeee phah…

 

DR. ADAMSON

I sure wish you weren’t so heartbroken and catatonic, MAR. You make even worse company than usual. Ah, women….

 

MARCIA

Blorrrrrrt love~~%!

 

THE DOCTOR shakes his head and takes another sip. Then, the door swings open. Enter THE MAYOR, clad in his usual cowboy regalia, pistols in holster. Behind him, his close assistant, MYSTERY MASK. While the former speaks to the DOCTOR, the latter casts a look at MARCIA and freezes up, puts gloved hand to masked face in horror.

MYSTERY MASK

Oh….!!

 

For the rest of the scene, MYSTERY MASK stares at MARCIA, undergoing internal torments.

THE MAYOR

DOCTOR, MARCIA. How are you cockroaches? Wait, don’t answer. I can tell.

 

DR. ADAMSON

MAYOR. Of course you could never resist a chance to gloat at our misfortune. Could I offer you a drink?

 

THE MAYOR

That’s quite all right, DOCTOR. I am already quite buzzed! I’ve been inspecting the bar at my new eatery. But more on that later…. I’m so curious, how did it all turn out?

 

DR. ADAMSON

As you’ve obviously already guessed, it failed.

 

THE MAYOR

Ha ha! So much for the infallible FRANK, eh? How many tries has it been, now? Time to cut your losses and abandon the project?

 

DR. ADAMSON

You know that’s not an option for men like us. FRANK, DADDY, MR. GABRIÉL and myself…. We will persevere. Another opportunity will present itself in due course.

 

MARCIA

Borka borka loooove…. Da special thiiiiiIIIIIINGS!!! Guh, gruh…

 

MYSTERY MASK

…

 

THE MAYOR

Ha! Insects like you will only fail again. So I take it there will be an investigation this time?

 

DR. ADAMSON

DADDY will be held responsible and has been called for interrogation by the Committee, yes.

 

THE MAYOR

Is that right? DADDY has been called, not FRANK? I detest FRANK, but even I didn’t think he would let another take the fall for his catastrophic mistakes…

 

DR. ADAMSON

It isn’t like that. FRANK lost eight of his fingers when the mystical gloves went into overload. He is in shock. I have him on lockdown here at the Institute, if you really must know.

 

THE MAYOR

My fucking word…

 

DR. ADAMSON

Indeed. We always knew there was a substantial risk that this attempt would end in disarray. Now we will regroup and deal with the consequences. The parts of the Intensifying Heart Club that melted in the midst of the cataclysm will have to be rebuilt – we cannot afford to lose the Club, after all. And DADDY and ANGÉL will handle the questions from the inquisitors gracefully, I’m sure. They are both well-versed in the ways of the Committee.

 

THE MAYOR

Well, bug, I imagine we’ll have to wait and see. Enough on that. I’m here to tell you of my new plan, that will unseat DADDY from his exalted position in this town for good.

 

DR. ADAMSON

Oh god. Another of your jealous attacks on DADDY and the club?

 

THE MAYOR

You know it, you slug. My new restaurant: THE MAYOR’S MUNCH HOUSE! As you know, my riches and authority are derived from my possession of the DELUXE JEWELS. This is an advantage that even FRANK cannot measure up to. The JEWELS are more powerful than the deathlist and the gloves combined, and now they have provided me with an opportunity to create the ultimate luxury dining experience, just a block away from the Intensifying Heart’s Club and Leisure Centre!

 

DR. ADAMSON

Have you gone mad, sir? The Club already provides the finest meals and drinks imaginable. How could an upstart possibly compete?

 

THE MAYOR

I’ll tell you, stinkbug. By offering natural meals.

 

DR. ADAMSON

Hate to disappoint you, but the Club already offers organically grown meats and sausages.

 

THE MAYOR

Not organic, you daffodil. Natural. All meals served at my place will have been prepared in nature, by accident. Imagine, for instance, a supple young deer taking a tumble and ending up dying in the crevice of some cliffs. Because of the strong sunlight being intensified (hah!) by the transparent shell of a rare snail, suspended above, the fresh spring water reaches boiling temperature and the deer is cooked. Now, no one wants to eat unseasoned meats. Luckily, a rare plant happens to grow just by the corpse. The bumblebees are attracted, and they bring spices attached to their bodies, which fall into the stew. At another crevice above, a sauce has been prepared by a similar happenstance and it falls upon the delicious meat. You get the picture. This is the only type of meal we will serve!

 

MARCIA

Food, guhu, hurk, bulb, lovverrrrrr….

 

DR. ADAMSON

And this…. Happens a lot in nature?

 

THE MAYOR

Oh, not in the slightest! It is virtually unheard of. And here is my scheme, you cockroach. How do you unseat the most exclusive club in town? By tempting buyers with a club so exclusive, the waiting list goes on infinitely. The possibility to make a dinner reservation will be dangled in front of your face, only to be snatched away every time because of the food’s rarity. You will LITERALLY NEVER EAT THERE!! That’s THE MAYOR’S MUNCH HOUSE.

 

DR. ADAMSON

…I will admit, I rather don’t know what to say about that. I suppose I shall wish you good luck.

 

THE MAYOR

If I needed luck from cockroaches, I would look in the mayoral toilet. That’s enough talking to idiots. Come on, MASK, we’re outta here. Later skater!

 

MYSTERY MASK glances at MARCIA once again, and they exit.

DR. ADAMSON

Well, that was certainly some kind of something. You listening to this, MAR?

 

MARCIA

Hu, burrrh…. Gotta make time for loooove…. It’s our… Last chaaaaance…. Kuh!

 

DR. ADAMSON

(Sigh)

 

The door opens again, and MADAME MORGANNA strides in, followed as always by her trail of tame peacocks.

MADAME MORGANNA

Out of my way at once, DOCTOR. MARCIA! Your friend MADAME MORGANNA has arrived to save you from the wretched clutches of MEN! Get up at once, you silly girl, and come away with me.

 

DR. ADAMSON

Always a pleasure, MADAME. Will you refuse my offer of a drink as well?

 

MADAME MORGANNA

We shall have two sherries, to go. MARCIA, did you not hear me? We are leaving at once.

 

DR. ADAMSON

She won’t respond, my lady. She’s been like this since the day before yesterday. Odds are, she’ll never come out of it. Her mind as a woman has become a cockamamie shamble. The news that PJALTUR is dead has finally taken its toll.

 

MADAME MORGANNA

And the day I will believe such a rumour from a lying quack like you is the day I hang up my purse and fancy hat for good. I’ve worked in ladying for long enough to see men and their pronouncements for what they are. Ah, well. I suppose MARCIA’s rescue will have to wait. Never let it be said that MADAME MORGANNA would stoop to kidnapping. But I tell you this: I will return in two days, and in two days I expect to find MARCIA restored to her former state. Unless you would like me to reveal your ghastly SECRET to the Committee, that is. How are those sherries coming along?

 

DR. ADAMSON hands her two glasses of sherry in a white take-away bag bearing the Gastronomy Institute logotype.

MADAME MORGANNA

Until the solemn occasion of our next meeting, DOCTOR.

 

MADAME MORGANNA out. As the door closes, MARCIA sits up straight and looks at DR. ADAMSON, suddenly lucid.

MARCIA

Is that true, DOCTOR? Will I never exit this mist of mental darkness? And if I were to return to myself, in what state would I find that self? I… I don’t want to be hurt by love again.

 

DR. ADAMSON

(Aghast with chagrin) Ah! Is that you, MARCIA? I can hardly believe it. To answer your question, I doubt it. Men’s minds are more resilient, but I have never heard of a woman being able to return from the wastelands of broken love. Your future is decided, I am afraid.

 

MARCIA’s head lolls back once again and the clarity in her eyes vanishes. Then, the lights in the room flicker as a majestic gong resounds in the distance.

DR. ADAMSON

And so it begins… Best of luck, DADDY, my old friend. Our fortunes shall not be at an end… Not yet!

 

(CONT)