A Short Play

[MalReynolds]

A short play that I wrote that is going to competition this week.

Wish me luck. It's 19 pages, and it's a humerous take on Beowulf.

Without further ado, Beowulf Revisited!: The Musical *(Not actually a Musical)

(The lights are dim as a young man enters the stage, carrying a large text that can be plainly as being “Beowulf Revisited�. He sits down on the edge of the bed, which is somehow there, and opens the text. He gradually drifts off to sleep. The lights continue to dim until… Blackout, with a voice booming from the darkness)

Beowulf: There was once a great king. Son of Ecgetheow, a man hardened by war moments. He would bear no sword or shield if his hands could settle the fight, and he would fight for honor. He stood tall among other men, and held the title of King of the Geats… He refused help to none, and was virtuous. His name was Beowulf.

(Lights up on Beowulf getting off of a ship, stage left. He’s greeted by assorted people)

People (Assorted audience): HAIL BEOWULF! HAIL!

Beowulf: Hail who?

People: BEOWUL! HAIL!

Beowulf: … What?

People: HAIL KNIGHT OF THE GEATS! HAIL! SLAYER OF OLDE SEA-MONSTERS! FRIEND TO ALL! KNIGHT OF KNIGHTS! WE BESEECH THEE!

Beowulf: OKAY! SHUT UP! Take me to your leader… anon?

(Assorted cheers, while lights up on stage right)

Grendle: Ha, take that foul fiend! No, no… That’s not right at all. “And this shall finish you off for good!� Yes… I like it. “Goodbye… Cruel… World�. Hey mom! Come read this!

(Enter Grendles mother)

GM: Not another play…

Grendle: This one is better, I promise.

(Mom takes papers, and reads them quickly)

GM: “Goodbye cruel world�? I honestly hope this isn’t the final draft.

Grendle: Why?

GM: It’s all trite! Look at this passage? (Indicates) Maybe you should stay here and bake cookies and candies with me instead of pursuing this foolish dream…

Grendle: Aw, come on. It’s not that bad…

(Loud rock music type rackety stuff is heard from offstage)

GM: Ugh… Those idiots at Herot. It’s bad enough they took our home for their Meadhall, but now they WON’T SHUT THE HELL UP! (Screams offstage in the direction of the noise. It subsides, and then starts again) If your father were still here, he would have taken care of it by now.

Grendle: It’s not my fault he left!

GM: No one’s blaming you… (under breath) except me.

Grendle: I heard that… (Really hurt. Grabs the writing tablet from MOM and exits, crying. But a humerous cry. He’s totally not likeable. Well, maybe a little.)

(Blackout)


(Lights come up on the throne room, where Hrothgar is seated. He is staring off into space when Beowulf and the Soldier enter)

Hrothgar: Hail, Beowulf!

Beowulf: Okay, listen and listen good. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know what I’m doing here. One second I’m wearing my jammies (notices that in fact, he still is wearing his jammies) and then the next I’m here in front of an old cod. What are you, king? I hate kings. Democracy is the way to go. No one even elected you! Now, tell me, what the hell am I doing here? (Grabs the neck of his king robe thing).

(The Kings Guards seize Beowulf)

Hrothgar: Unhand him, he has just partaken in too much mead. You’re in Denmark, land of the Danes. We summoned you here to fight the ogre Grendle, descendant of Cain and plague to my land and Mead Hall Herot. He is envious of man, of the beauty that life is… He can never regain what we have, fratracide runs in his blood, sealing his fate..

Beowulf: Right… Wait a damn second, you summoned me? Is that how I got here?

Hrothgar: Yes, we are in a great plight… You are here to fight the ogre Grendle, descendant of Cain and plague to my land and Mead Hall Herot. He is envious of man…

Beowulf: I got it the first time! Is there any way I can go back?

Hrothgar: When you slay Grendle, descendant of Cain and plague to my land and Mead Hall Herot. He is envious of man, of the beauty that life is… (Beowulf interjects)

Beowulf: KNOCK IT OFF!

Hrothgar: (Quickly) He can never regain what we have, his fratracide sealed his fate… When you slay the beast as you promised, you may return to your homeland.

Beowulf: Good. Then consider this “Grendle� fella toast.

Hrothgar: Toast?

Beowulf: A goner. Dead. (Slowly) So that he ceases to live anon.

Hrothgar: (Obviously confused. What a dunder head) Perhaps you should lie down, and refresh yourself for the Banquet, this even tide.

Beowulf: A Banquet? For me? Even tide?

Hrothgar: Yes.

Beowulf: Okay, it’s a deal. I kill the thing, you send me back?

Hrothgar: Yes, consider this deal “toes� as well (lifts his feet and wiggles his toes).

Beowulf: I don’t think you understand.

Hrothgar: (Unfazed) We musn’t dally. Let us to the banquet “anon�!

Beowulf: Whatever.

(They cross stage, and as they do, a banquet table is rolled out on casters, creating the illusion of them walking to the Banquet)

(General merrymaking)

Hrothgar: Wonderful. Now… Beowulf! Do pay attention! Beowulf, you will be sleeping in the Mead Hall… Grendle, descendant of Cain and plague to my land and Mead Hall Herot, envious of man, of the beauty that life is… never able to regain what we have, will no doubt come to slay and devour more brave soldiers tonight, drinking their blood, gulping them with glee, shearing their bone-locks… I lift my flagon high, and offer praise! For surely, this man, heaven sent will fulfill the job that so many brave, strong men gave up their lives for.

Beowulf: …Easy as pie. I’ll get the job done.

Soldier: Yea! Praise Beowulf! Praise his strong arms, his striking eyes, praise his slightly akaward posture…
Hrothgar: That’s quite enough.

(General hurrahs and such. Things speed up and in a matter of seconds, the Meade hall is set on the stage.)

(Blackout, lights up on the Mead Hall, with several soldier and Beowulf asleep. The door cracks open and Grendle enters.)

Grendle: (Writing) I touch the door and it explodes outwards, sending splinters into the air.

(A soldier snorts)

Grendle: A soldier snorts, restless and anxious after a night of carousing. I cautiously tiptoe to the first soldier, sleeping like a gentle lamb, peaceful and at rest… (grabs his throat) And I rip his throat out, bathing in his hot blood! AHH HAHAHA

(Obviously nutso at this point. It’s all the mothers fault)

Beowulf: (Still lying down, tells the audience) Ay… this guy is nutso… Probably the mother’s fault. I think I’m going to make a graceful exit… (begins the long, arduous process of getting up, which Grendle mistakes for sleep troubles)

Grendle: The warm bloods rushes down my throat and hits my belly, sending warm waves over me. I slowly approach the next soldier, eager to shear his bone locks…

(Stops at the next soldier: Beowulf. Beowulf stands, and begins to run before he trips over a soldier and drops a Silly Slammer that wakes all the soldiers. They all sit up, and look at him. He looks at the door longingly, and then at the soldiers, and then at Grendle. Grendle trundles over to Beowulf and moves to strike him, when Beowulf instinctively puts his hand up in defense and grabs the monsters arm. The monster howls, and Beowulf seizes the opportunity.)

Beowulf: Gotcha, sucker.

(Grendle tries to pull away, but Beowulfs grip holds stead fast.)

Beowulf: So, you’re the fierce ogre? You’re a little punk! (Twists his arm, and Grendle howls, waking the other soldiers) Lemme teach you a thing or two about PAIN! This is what my wrestling coach called “The Twisted ARM!�

(Does some wrestling moves that look really cool, Grendle howls. Beowulf wrestles Grendle off stage, when Beowulf yells)

Beowulf: Hey! HEY! You’re a bit bitey! Didn’t your mother teach you not to bite? OW!

(The Soldiers flee. There is a sound of ripping paper as Beowulf enters again, with Grendle’s arm.)

Beowulf: And that’s what my wrestling coach called the “Severed arm!� Heh… You should just go join the salvation ARM-Y… Heh heh… Oh man, I wish someone had been around to hear that. With some people it just takes an arm and a leg… YOUR ARM! Oh man… (Turns and hollers) Yeah, that’s right! Cry, little man. I’d give ya’ a hand, but I already took one! Oh man, I gotta save some of these for the guys.

(Blackout)

(Lights up. A throne is sitting center stage with a stately king sitting on it. On either side of him is a guard. They seem to be waiting for something. All of a sudden, from the left wing…)

Beowulf: That’s right! Go home and cry to mama! Holy crap this arm is heavy. Whose friggin’ idea was it to put the castle uphill from the Meadehall!?

(Lights shift to a different part of the stage, Grendle is running, his arm no longer present. He goes into the pit, his home, and his mother greets him)

GM: Grendle! Oh, what has happened?

Grendle: There was a man. A very, very bad man. (losing a lot of blood, kind of drunk) He did THIS! (waves his stump around)

GM: Grendle, lie down.

Grendle: Not yet… I’m almost done with my opus. (Tries to write, his arm is missing) Looks like I’ll learn to right left handed… “Grendle’s Mother feels great remorse for berating her son… She changes from a loving mother, to a complete… Shrew, unable to satiate her blood lust… She soon becomes obsessed over the death of her son, swearing revenge…The animals gather to watch me die… Goodbye, cruel world�. (Pauses, before scratching that out.) No, she was right… That is rather trite. “Poor Grendle’s had an accident… So may you all… “ (Dies)

GM: NO (extended “no� cry. I always thought “NOOOO� looked silly. So I just did that. But she’s really torn up over this. During the prolonged “NOOO� she somehow changes into a really beefy dude in a dress.)

GM: So may… you… all…

(The lights shift to focus on Beowulf again)

Beowulf: Holy carp this arm is heavy. Whose friggin’ idea was it to put the castle uphill from the Meade hall!? AHH (Splashing noises) WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO PUT A MOAT AT THE BASE OF A HILLTOP CASTLE?!

(Beowulf enters, carrying what appears to be a large severed arm and is soaked.)

Beowulf: Hey, Eli-Rothgar, I killed the thing.

Hrothgar: Indeed you were as the legends spoke. A hero true of the title, none more befitting than thine… You hath slain the monster, and we are forever in your debt…

(King bows at Beowulf’s feet)

Beowulf: Hey, woah… Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. Forever’s a long time and I’m not just ready for that kind of commitment.. Can you get behind that?

Hrothgar: Get behind what?

Beowulf: Get behind… That… You know… It.

Hrothgar: You speak in riddles, much like the angels.

Beowulf: I speak in riddles? Psh.

Hrothgar: (Noticing the sword at Beowulf’s side) Did thoust slay the devil with thine blade, Hrunting? (Reaches out to touch it)

Beowulf: Don't touch that please, it’s very sharp and I wouldn’t want you to ding up your finger. And for the record, no. “Mine sword� didn’t put a dent in the thing. I ripped it’s arm off, and then proceeded to bludgeon it with it’s arm. It was nice of him to lend me a hand like that. (Laughs to himself, using the arm as an airbat, hitting homeruns)

Hrothgar: Your strength is greater than one could imagine… Now, the greedy hall watcher, the one with rage in his blood has fallen, at last death has come to him.

Beowulf: Yeah, that’s swell. Now, I’m going to get some beauty sleep. We still have the little problem of my return to discuss. Don’t forget, Chicken-Broth-Bar... I’ve got my eyes on you.

Hrothgar: Yes, sleep well conqueror of evil.

(Hrothgar exits, and the guard remains)

Guard: Tell me, are all men from Geatland such loud mouthed braggarts?

(Pause)

Beowulf: Nope… Just me baby… Just me.

(Blackout)

(Lights up on a soldier frantically running to tell Hrothgar what happened)

Hrothgar: Who dare enters my chamber?!

Soldier: King Hrothgar, the news I bring will raise you from your slumber and make you forsake your anger… In the night, something crashed into Herot! It has stolen away the arm of the fallen monster, and Aeschere! I pray you, assemble the troops and give chase… There is still hope for his life!

(This is happening simoultaneously on another part of the stage in a flashback sequence. Trippy, eh? The arm hung in the mead hall, soldiers all sleeping peacefully… Suddenly, a large monster enters, growling. The men do not stir, this monster merely a fragment in their minds of Grendle. Little do they know that it is in fact Grendle’s Mother. Oh snap. She goes and grabs the arm, before stalking over to a sleeping soldier, beating her to death with the arm, and dragging the body away)

Hrothgar: Nay, the soldiers must protect the mead hall as well… There is one man that can possibly track and destroy this creature… Envious of (trails off)

(Blackout, lights up with Beowulf asleep on stage. The King runs on)

Hrothgar: Beowulf! Awake!

Beowulf: (Sleepily) I told you not to come in here when I’m vacuuming…

Hrothgar: What is this vacuum you speak of? Awake Beowulf!

Beowulf: Hm? Oh… well, if it isn’t Mr Fancypants. What do you want?

Hrothgar: In the night, a great evil returned to Herot and has stolen the arm of Grendle, descendant of Cain and plague to my land and Mead Hall Herot. He is envious of man, of the beauty that life is…

Beowulf: KNOCK IT THE HELL OFF!

Hrothgar: (Mildly ashamed) And kidnapped a brave soldier, the likes of which you would have been proud.

Beowulf: Right. So what has this got to do with me?

Hrothgar: You’re the only man that can track down this creature, slay it and safely return Aeschere. When you succeed, perhaps we can help you return to where you came from.

Beowulf: Right… This is lovely.

(Awkaward pause, Hrothgar waiting for Beowulf to go)

Beowulf: (Realizing that it’s now) Can it wait until morning?

Hrothgar: Tarry not! We are assembling in Herot anon!

Beowulf: Anon? Wait up…

(Blackout, lights up on the mead hall)

Hrothgar: Your provisions are here, your armor, and your sword.

Beowulf: I’m going to need some troops… And if I go, you’re coming with.

Hrothgar: Coming with what?

Beowulf: Me. I need 1,000 soldiers.

Hrothgar: I can give you three.

Beowulf: Done. Let’s roll anon.

(Blackout)

(Lights up, with the noble band traveling across the stage)

Beowulf: Hey, Mothbar, we almost there? We’ve been walking for almost a full day.

Hrothgar: Mayhap we are close to the swamp. Perhaps another half a days journey, or two, or three.

(Beowulf tries to do the math of this in his head)

Hrothgar: BUT! These tracks have been easy to follow… Lovelessly loping across the marshes…

(Beat)

Soldier: Here is the lake, here is where the vile tracks stop.

Beowulf: Remind me never to make you the navigator on our trips.

Hrothgar: And lo, the head of Aeschere… A grave marking for those that dare follow the creature into it’s abode, that one entering will suffer a most heinous and painful death. Beowulf, tarry not. Slay this vile creation, this creature of Cain.

Beowulf: Bring me my armor.

(No one moves)

Beowulf: We left it back at the castle, didn’t we…

(No one says anything)

Beowulf: Dammit… If I’m not back in twenty minutes, call the police.

(He exits)

(Lights on the pit, where GM is, behind fabric. Beowulf plugs his nose and jumps in, fighting, before making his way back onstage)

Beowulf: That was quite the swim. Now where did that she devil go?

(Enter Grendel’s mother from behind, she advances on him)

GM: I will rip you apart, slake my thirst with your blood, and swallow what remains in gobbets…

Beowulf: Gobbets?

GM: I will swallow your soul.

(Draws sword)

Beowulf: Okay, she-bitch. Let’s tango.

(A fight ensues, which quickly moves behind the sheet. Beowulf is very overpowered. Every blow he delivers does nothing, and she eventually wrestles his arm around his back, and the sheet drops)

Beowulf: Ahh! Uncle! Uncle!

GM: Now you face the pain that you bestowed unto my son!

Beowulf: He was your SON?! God, who would hook up with you?!

GM: I will silence your foul mouth!

(They fight some more behind the sheet, before it drops)

GM: Beowulf, give up. Son of Edgethow, victory is no longer possible. Man made weapons cannot harm me, human hands cannot bruise my scale flesh.

(Freeze, an aside to the audience)

Beowulf: Where the hell am I going to find a weapon not forged by human hands? Unless the squid down here are into smithing, I’d have to say I’m a done Tom Turkey.

(The sword fairy appears, with a blade in his/her hands. It places it on the wall, before reading the inscription)

Sword Fairy: “Smithed by giants, a sword for victory, blade for a champion, best of war weapons, greater in steel weight than any other man could manage in warfare.�

Beowulf: Smithed by Giants? This is rather convienient.

(Rips sword from the wall, and a sword fight ensues, GM with her shortsword, and Beowulf with the Giant’s Toothpick. He eventually scores a winning blow, and GM falls)

GM: And so ends… the line of Cain… Grendle, descendant of Cain and my loving son... Envious of no man, now… He is more humane than the hands that killed him… I will see your face anon. (Dies)

Beowulf: Anon sure does travel fast down in these parts.

(Checks the pulse of the corpse, before rolling it over and making a disgusted face)

Beowulf: Aw man, she sure did fall out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way home… Before eating some ugly cereal with ugly milk. Oh well! To Hrothgar! ANON!

(Blackout)

(Lights up with Hrothgars men standing around the lake, waiting)

Hrothgar: POLICE!

Soldiers: POLICE! WE ARE CALLING!

Hrothgar: POLIIIICCCCCEEEEEEEE!

(Beowulf enters from the stairs)

Beowulf: You jumped the gun, Hot-Topic Goth-Gar. It’s only been three minutes.

(Soldiers rejoice)

Hrothgar: Your return sends waves of relief… I will thank the gods for your victory.

Beowulf: Yeah, she was tough to kill. She has the same weakness as most… ogre’s mothers. A good old stabbing did the trick.

(Soldiers rejoice)

Beowulf: Now, I can stay here, or wake up and go to school... Become king, or become… school… A crown and beautiful women… Jocky shorts… Wedgies… I’ll go to Gaetland.

(Everyone leaves but a female soldier)

(Grabs her hand, and they skip offstage)

(Lights shift to another guy on the other side of the stage, writing hunched over a desk)

Beowulf: “And that was how fifty four years ago, I became the once and future king.. Signed, Beowulf Perrywinkle Francis Esquire.� (Looks at the stack) And now I have carpal tunnel. (Yells) WIGLAF! GET YOUR GAET ASS IN HERE!

(Enter Wiglaf)

Wiglaf: Yes, Beowulf?

Beowulf: Wiglaf, help me come up with a name for mine autobiography.

Wiglaf: “To Hell and Back: The Memoirs of a…�

(Beowulf slaps him, but the slap is so far off)

Beowulf: Insolence!

Wiglaf: B-man, learn how to take a joke. How about… “How I Saved Christmas�?

(Beowulf cocks his arm to deliver another slap)

Wiglaf: That was another joke. How about “Gaetlands Greatest Kings Volume 1: Beowulf�?

(Beowulf lowers his arm)

Beowulf: I like it. You’ve got a real knack for this, Wiggy.

Wiglaf: And you’ve got quite the knack for slapping, Wolfsie.

(Beowulf slaps him)

Beowulf: What did I say about “Wolfsie�.

(Beowulf and Wiglaf say at the same time)

Both: That is the worst nickname ever, including Beuregard Wolf and The Wolfenator.

Beowulf: As long as we have that straight. Would you like to break our fast anon at the local slaughter house?

Wiglaf: Sure, as long as you don’t slap me anymore.

Beowulf: No promises.

(Blackout)

(Lights up on THE THEIF, who is creeping his was towards the hugs pile of treasure that has miraculously appeared on stage during the set change that I didn’t write into the stage directions)

Thief: The countless days I have sought this treasure go without a moments notice, for at last, I have found it. I have found the treasure of the great Dragonia! (Spies a goblet with a huge sign “DO NOT TAKE OR RISK THE WRATH OF THE DRAGON) Oh, hark, a Goblet! This will end my servitude at that vile house and allow me to buy my freedom. (Takes the goblet and runs)

(The dragon awakes, and maybe counts its treasure before noticing it’s goblet is gone. Damn. It’s pissed. It wakes, roars, and another blackout)

(Lights up on the thief running into a dining hall, perhaps an in, Goblet in tow)

Thief: Friends, Geatlanders, Countrymen, we are here to celebrate the retrieval of this GOBLET! From Dragonia’s Layer!

(General Ooh and Aahs)

Man: That wasn’t the Goblet with the sign on it, was it?

Thief: And what if it was.

(Hear the dragon roar offstage)

Man: Duck and cover.

(Blackout, flamethrower sounds, people crying, screaming etc.)

(Lights up on Beowulf entering the scene with Wiglaf)

Beowulf: …Which raises the age old question, if it looks like a rock, smells like a rock and tastes like a rock, is it really a rock? (Trips over corpse)

Wiglaf: I would think it’s a (Beowulf slaps him, realizing that the Inn has been destroyed) Ow.

Beowulf: Silence, Wiglaf. An unseen force has razed this Inn, killing the unfortunate souls that were inside.

Thief: (From behind table) Except me.

Beowulf: Except for that table.

(The thief stands)

Beowulf: My God! A survivor! How did you survive this reckoning?

Thief: I did what the old man said. I ducked and covered.

(All three look at the audience)

Beowulf: Do you know who did this?

Thief: Hell yes! That stupid Dragon from Dragonia’s Cave!

Beowulf: Man, who named that cave?

Thief: Saint George…

All: …The Dragonslayer.

Beowulf: Do you know how to get back there?

Thief: Like the back of my hand (notices a bump on the back of his hand) How the hell did that get there?

Beowulf: All men, willing to march with me for one last battle, into death’s cold embrace if need be, come with me… Wiglaf, Thief, you have no choice.

Wiglaf: Aw, crap.

(Notices everyone else is dead)

Beowulf: Well, this won’t work. Wiglaf!

(Wiglaf looks but doesn’t respond, and is standing slightly behind Beowulf.)

Beowulf: Oh, where did that boy run off to now? His parents are going to let me have what-for…

Wiglaf: I’m right here, Beo.

Beowulf: Round up an army of the toughest, roughest, battle weary soldiers you can find! They must not fear death, nor must they fear maiming, or bruises. Or scratches. Perhaps even paper cuts!
(All recoil)

Wiglaf: At once, duderino!

(Wiglaf leaves the inn, and finds some guys standing outside. Looks around before calling Beowulf)

Wiglaf: Sir, I found the best troops in the kingdom. I think you’ll be happy.

(They’re all playing hopscotch Hopscotch)

Beowulf: These are the soldiers?

Wiglaf: Cowabunga.

Beowulf: Never again, Wiglaf… Never again. (Focuses his attention on the soldiers) All men, willing to march with me for one last battle, into death’s cold embrace if need be, come with me…

Soldiers: AYYYY!

Beowulf: LET US MARCH!

Soldier 1: Wait, sir! I think you would get the best results if you arm me.

Soldier 2: And give me armor.

Soldier 3: And give me a hug.

(All the Soldiers stare at him)

Soldier 3: Or give me boots.

(The prop fairy comes out and gives them all wooden swords.)

Soldier 1: I shall name you Frank!

Soldier 2: I shall name you Al!

Soldier 3: I shall name you Insizeus!

(Beowulf slaps him)

Soldier 3: I shall name you Tim!

Beowulf: Expendable Soldier One… I have for you… Uh… (Picks up flowers) Did you know I almost killed Grendle’s mother with flowers?

Soldier 1: Really? Well, with these and Frank I shall be sure to slay the dragon beast!

Soldier 2: You know he ended up killing her with a really big sword, right?

Soldier 1: (Ignoring) With these flowers, I’ll be invincible!

Beowulf: Expendable Soldier 2, for you I have… A… The Mystical Colander of Pier One Imports! (Finds a colander) I drained the vicious pasta beast with this, and ate it for my evening meal!

Soldier 2: Oh, wow. I’ve read legends about the Mystical Colander of Pier One Imports and how it protects the bearers head! (Places on Head)

Beowulf: And, for Expendable Soldier Three, I have nothing. When I was your age, I had to walk to Dragon Battles uphill, in the snow, both ways for thirteen and a half miles, WIHTOUT BOOTS! Don’t even get me started on the walk home that was fir some reason TWICE AS FAR! So take your unshielded feet and put them to good use! I did more with less! And now, LET US MARCH!

Wiglaf: El Duder, there are more guys coming to help. They had to run home and get their junk together, though.

Beowulf: Wiglaf, I killed Grendle with my bare hands. I killed Grendle’s mother without much more help than the surroundings. My pride shall be my shield, and my huge ego will protect me from elements of danger. I will manage this fight alone.

Wiglaf: If you insist. It‘s your funeral.

(They march or some sort, singing Breakfast at Tiffanys until the Thief spots the entrance)

Thief: Beowulf, the Dragon’s Layer, Cave Dragonia!

Beowulf: Okay, here’s the Goblet. March back inside there right now, return it, and maybe we can do this without senseless violence.

Thief: Aye sir.

(Marches into cave. A loud, blood curdling scream is heard)

Beowulf: Wiglaf…

Soldier 1: I’m not Wiglaf, sir, he is.

(Slaps him)

Beowulf: DON’T YOU EVER QUESTION ME!

Soldier 1: Yea, sir.

Beowulf: Wiglaf, keep the soldiers here. I’m heading in alone. The dragons blood shall be spilled by my blade and peace will return to our fair land.

Wiglaf: Sir, I will march with you into the jaws of death.

Beowulf: Alright, then…

(They march)

Wiglaf: I’ll fight beside you. (Dragon Roars) Maybe behind that tree… Or that rock. Or maybe some kind of flame retardant object.

(Beowulf turns around and shoots him a look)

(They reach the dragon, which for some reason has dancers. Music starts up, Carmina Burana)

Beowulf: Hold the phone, that is the most overused piece of music for climactic fights EVER. Could we have something more suitable?

(Hot Down, Summer in the City begins playing. They begin to fight, when Beowulf stabs the dragon and steps out for an aside)

Beowulf: I fought using the ancient Lotus technique that I gleaned from the new Mortal Kombat game. The dragon was tough, but it didn’t stand a chance against my fierce, precise fighting style.

(Beowulf moves back, and the Dragon comes forward)

Dragon: I was holding my own against both of these jokers, when my back started to itch. And man, when your back itches, there ain’t no way you can ignore it. It’s like your ex-wife, right? You can ignore it, but it just sits there nagging and nagging, am I right fellas? So I take a chance and use one of my hands to reach around and scratch when that sumbitch scores a lucky hit. I’ve seen better sword work out of Tiereseus, if you know what I’m saying.

(The Dragon moves to the back, and it resumes real time)
Beowulf: Come here, Wiglaf! I’ve found it’s weakness! Stabbing it to death! Come, stab with me!

(Wiglaf begins to stab unenthusiastically)

Beowulf: What are you doing, churning frickin’ butter? Rip the beast asunder with yon blade! Get Olde English on his ass!

(Wiglaf stabs some more)

(Beowulf falls)

Wiglaf: Sir, what is the matter?

Beowulf: Look at this bite, does it look swollen to you?

(Wiglaf Grimaces)

Wiglaf: …No…

Beowulf: The jig is up, kid. That dragon was nothing but poison, literally. I’m not going to make it much longer… I’m done for… Going to that great Kingdom in the sky, only this Kingdom I won‘t be ruling… Wiglaf… Do me a favor…

Wiglaf: Anything, sir.

Beowulf: Make sure my biography finds a good publishing company. I don’t want Random House touching that.

Wiglaf: Random House?

Beowulf: Never mind… Maybe you’ll understand when you’re older… Lean in… I want a pyre, and not just some poor, half assed pyre neither. I wand all my armor piled on, on top of my body and I want it to be set aflame on a ship, and not some half assed ship, either, the pride of our landlocked nation…

(Wiglaf drags Beowulf’s body to a position where he is holding it, standing, and he walks it out to the troops, who are cowered in fear)

Wiglaf: (Like a doctor delivering a bad diagonsis) Well, gentlemen… He fought hard, but sadly, he perished to the dragons poison. But we mustn’t dwell on the horrifyingly painful way that he died. We must celebrate this kings life, his accomplishments. Pierce, remember when he got your son a pony for his birthday?


Soldier 1: Yes…

Wiglaf: And Denn, remember how he introduced you to your wife?

Soldier 2: Well, she was my cousin at the time…

Wiglaf: And… Uh… Soldier 3, remember when he didn’t give you boots?

Soldier 3: I remember it like it was yesterday…

(Everyone begins to make a pyre on Beowulfs body, just piling fabric and crap IN Front of it, so it looks like it’s on him. But it’s really not. During the fire, Young Beowulf crawls in while Old Beowulf leaves)

(The lights come up full blast over Beowulf)

Mother: Rise and shine, sleepy head. You were talking in your sleep again. You’d better get ready or your going to miss the bus!

Son: I had the strangest dream… (His father, brother, other brother, and uncle rush in) And you were there, and you, and you, and you… (Points to the Sound Guy) But not you.

Father: Well, get ready for school. Don’t you have that big English test today?

Son: Yeah, pop.

Father: Did you study?

Son: Study? Hell, I lived it!

Father: How did you live “Utopia�? There’s no central character.

Son: Holy flaming crap-burgers… The test is on Utopia?

(The lights fade, and a Wa-wa-waaaaaaa is heard)

FIN