Scene: A stage set of a balcony, with two chairs in the forefront. DOMINIC is sitting in the left chair, with a kitten on his lap. Behind him we can see a
movie screen on the far wall. Dominic is currently
speaking in what appears to be an ordinary cellular
phone.
Dominic: "... look, Kemuviel, just go ahead and take
down the Tether. You-know-Who is distracting the
Vidiot, so you'll have plenty of time to go in.
Remember to leave the evidence - and use /plastic
explosives this time/. Yes, yes, I know, it's a great
new superpower that he gave you, and you want to have
fun with it, but we want to make it at least look
like the Traitors are engaging in a little
behind-the-scenes political maneuvering, nu?
"Why am I talking like this? Because you called me on
an unsecured line, and this way nobody would ever
believe that I was the one you were talking to..."
Voice Offscreen: "Thirty seconds!"
Dominic: "Have to run. We're live, tonight. Give
'em Hell... Yes, yes, it's redundant. Give it to
them anyway."
Dominic hangs up the phone, sits comfortably, and
smoothly segues over to female form.
Dominique: "Good evening, and welcome again to
Sitting in Judgement, Heaven's very own movie review
show. I'm your host, and if you don't know who I am,
then many of your fellow-viewers no doubt deeply envy
your naiveté.
"Tonight we'll be reviewing a movie that's been out
for a while - frankly, Nybbas has been even clumsier
than usual lately - but I Know that all of you tune in
to see two Archangels glaring at each other, anyway.
However, my guest tonight gets along with everybody.
I've been meaning to talk to him about that,
actually...
"But the Inquisition can wait until after the show.
Soundman, turn on the applause machine so Marc can
come in."
MARC, shaking his head while wearing his trademark
grin, comes in and sits in the other chair.
Marc: "Dominique, you aren't supposed to tell them
that, you know."
Dominique (shrugging): "They already knew, I'm sure.
Anyway, welcome to the show."
Marc: "Glad to be here..."
Dominique: "Small talk for thirty seconds."
Marc: "...and that's just an instruction on the cue
cards. It's not supposed to be said aloud."
Dominique: "I know. I thought it was funnier this
way."
Marc: "Well, the cameraman thinks so, at least. What
the heck: it's not like we have to worry about
ratings. Ready to talk about Chicken Run?"
Dominique: "Of course. Really, I thought that movie
was thoroughly delightful. A clear moral allegory
about the futility of evil, coupled with a strong
subtext about how falsehood only causes trouble in the
end. The animation was truly artistic, and amazingly
detailed, considering the limitations of the medium.
Some elements might be a little strong for corporeal
children, but there was nothing really objectionable,
even there. All in all, I'm amazed that the film was
produced by Hollywood."
Marc (sourly): "Of course you would be. After all, it
wasn't a personal attack on you."
Silence.
Dominique: "Pardon me?"
Marc (Leaning forward): "That film was one of Nybbas'
subtler attacks on the Word of Trade. The entire
movie was a barely disguised condemnation of the free
enterprise system, not to mention a personal slur on
me. We won't forget that in a hurry, let me tell
you."
Another silence.
Dominique: "What a ... completely unexpected response.
Please continue."
Marc: "With pleasure. First of all, let's look at the
scenario. We've got a bunch of chickens, trapped in a
prison and forced to continuously sacrifice their
future in exchange for survival. This is clearly
intended to be a vicious parody of modern corporate
life: that's insulting enough, but it gets worse. The
main villain of the piece is an emotionally starved
woman who decides to maximize her 'obscene' profits by
converting all of her workers for short-term gain.
This is satirical on so many levels: Mrs. Tweedy is
clearly intended to evoke the stereotype of the modern
female executive, and her evil plans are filled with
exaggerated corporate slogans and imagery. Couple
that with the cheap exploitation of the average human
viewer's fear of corporate layoffs, and the
heavy-handed metaphor of Machinery as Agent of Death,
and you have a film that sends entirely the wrong
message to impressionable children."
Dominique (wonderingly): "You actually believe in the
Truth of your words. Amazing. But doesn't the fact
that the chickens were eventually saved through the
use of machinery a refutation of the last point?"
Marc: "Well, they had to escape somehow, and Lord
knows they couldn't fly..."
Dominique: "Indeed. And, now that I think about it,
they got many needed parts from two capitalists
themselves..."
Marc (slightly angry): "What, you mean the rats?
Those rats were the worst part! I could have just let
the rest of it go, but those rats were the bloody
straw that broke the bloody camel's back..."
Dominique: "You've lost me, there. What was so wrong
with Nick and Fetcher?"
Marc: "Good Lord, Nikki, didn't you look at their
faces? Whoever designed Nick took especial care to
duplicate the face of my favorite vessel! Granted,
Fetcher's face was a dead wringer for Mammon, but it
was a deliberate slap in the face. Then they made
them sneaky, oily, and as for that Infernal dance
sequence... Jordi had to keep me from looking up the
animation studio, then and there..."
Dominique: "Wait a second. Jordi went to a movie?"
Marc: "Well, I had a buy one, get one free ticket, so
I had to take somebody."
Dominique: "Still, it's a bit odd. Couldn't you have
taken Jean along?"
Marc: "He didn't want to see anything done with
claymation. He thinks it's passe. Besides, he had
already decided to watch Toy Story II again."
Dominique: "What about Novalis?" Dominique holds up
her hand. "Never mind: if you had taken her..."
Marc: "Right, I would have had to go see a movie that
she chose. And you know what that would have
meant..."
Both together: "Shaft."
A pause.
Dominique: "You know, it wasn't precisely a bad film,
really."
Marc: "Sure, the first 72 times that you see it. But
she hums the theme music afterwards, you know. Worse,
what if she had suggested that we stay home and watch
Pulp Fiction again?"
Dominique: "God, remember that Dirty Harry marathon?
How does she manage to reconcile her taste in movies
with her Word, anyway?"
Marc: "Wouldn't you know?"
Dominique: "She blocks. Anyway, why didn't you get
Laurence?"
Marc: "There wasn't anything adapted from a Kurosawa
film showing."
Dominique (weakly): "Gabriel?"
Marc (through gritted teeth): "You can't smoke in
theaters anymore."
Pause.
Marc: "I'm sorry. Even for the Author, that was an
extremely lame joke."
Dominique: "I could tell that you didn't want to say
it."
Marc: "Can't you talk to him? We are Archangels,
after all..."
Dominique: "Who, me? What makes you think that he'll
listen to me? Don't forget, this is a man who thinks
that I'm much more interesting if I've got the
Malakim's answer to Jiminy Cricket following me
around..."
Voice off screen clears throat.
Dominique: "...Yes, Bronwen, you've been invaluable,
so I don't mind that. Too much. But then, there's
this little matter of the kitten, too..."
Marc: "Come on, Nikki, I won't defend him, but he
didn't come up with the kitten."
Dominique: "But he stole it shamelessly, didn't he
just? And the cloak idea was his fault. Do you know
hard it is to put the fear of the Righteous Anger of
the Lord into a Heretical when you've got a kitten
wearing a cloak on your shoulder? No, you wouldn't:
he likes you. He gave you a spy agency and only
makes you teach sex-education classes. You tell him
how unreasonable he's being."
Marc: "Yes, but he puts bad jokes in my mouth. For
example, I can feel myself becoming so defensive that
I'm about to blurt out a comment about how I wasn't
expecting the Spanish Inquisition..."
A GENERIC PERSON runs out.
Generic Person: "Nobody expects the..."
The Generic Person notes that Marc, Dominique and
the kitten have somehow acquired flaming swords. Of
course, the kitten's is much smaller.
Generic Person: "Umm, never mind."
The Generic Person exits.
Marc: "That was close. Hmm... I think that the
Author's counting pages. We may be out of this soon."
Dominique: "Probably. Anyway, I gave Chicken Run a
thumbs-up. Marc?"
Marc: "Thumbs-down."
Dominique: "And - thankfully - we're out of time.
Tune in next week, when hopefully I'll be given lines
by someone that's a bit more respectful. Until then,
thanks for watching Sitting in Judgement!"
Lights fade, credits run. Marc looks around.
Marc: "Dominic? Mind if I ask a question?"
Dominic sighs.
Dominic: "Go ahead..." He pets his slightly miffed
kitten.
Marc: "You're still trying to track down Eli and put
him on trial, right?"
Dominic (wary): "The knowledge of Eli's whereabouts
and eventual accounting for his actions are of prime
importance to me, yes."
Marc: "So why are all of your technical crew
Creationers?"
Back to the INC Mainpage.
Back to the Humor page.
Send mail to the Curator