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Considering the pickle that we are in, your humble servant, along with the Players of the Great Unity Literary Society, herewith present for your amusement... the first scene of...


Thedillpickl, Prince of Pickldom,
A Tragi-Comedy


The Players

Thedillpickl, Prince of Pickldom
Princefigs, King of Figs
Jovan Tekelija, Prince of Nis
Benjamin Doverton, King of Pickldom, uncle of Thedillpickl
PigInZen, Deposed King of Pickldom, father of Thedillpickl
Good Chutley, The Prince's Closest Confidante
Bad Chutley, An Evil Ghostly Presence
George Pumpkinette, A Close Friend of the Prince
Samuel Seabury, Another Close Friend of the Prince
Jason Stiltner, Lord Chamberlain for the Court of Pickldom
Phoenix Quinn, Son of the Lord Chamberlain, a handsome Knight who is a bit mad
Gnilraps, Another Son the Lord Chamberlain, a dashing Knight of the Realm
Relorian, A servant to the Lord Chamberlain
Joe DaSmoe. A soldier and a gentleman
Candor, Chief Officer of the Guard
Chris Shnitzel, A clever courtier
Morrigan Alexandros, An Officer of the Guard
Joseph Dinero, An Officer of the Guard




ACT I.

SCENE I. A country store in rural Pickldom. On a porch.

Morrigan Alexandros

Who's there?

Joseph Dinero

Answer me, fool! Stand, and unfold yourself.

Morrigan Alexandros

God Bless Pickldom!

Joseph Dinero

Morrigan?

Morrigan Alexandros

Yo.

Joseph Dinero

You're late, dude.

Morrigan Alexandros

Bite me.

Joseph Dinero

LOL. See ya later, alligator.
If you do meet Good Chutley and Joe DaSmoe,
Those boneheads, bid them make haste.

Morrigan Alexandros

I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who dat?

Enter Good Chutley and Joe DaSmoe

Good Chutley

Friends to Pickldom.

Joe DaSmoe

And liegemen to the Great Pickl.

Joseph Dinero

Wassup, dudes?

Good Chutley

O, farewell, honest soldier:
Who hath relieved you?

Joseph Dinero

Morrigan Alexandros has my place.
I'm outta here.

Exit





Joe DaSmoe

Hola, Morrigan! Que pasa contigo, amigo?

Morrigan Alexandros

Say what?
Is Chutley there?

Joe DaSmoe

The good side of him.

Morrigan Alexandros

Welcome Good Chutley; welcome good Joe.

Joe DaSmoe

Has that thing appear'd again to-night?

Morrigan Alexandros

Nah. Crickets, mostly.

Joe DaSmoe

Good Chutley says 'tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him.
I dragged him along so that if it comes,
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

Good Chutley

Pish-posh, 'twill not appear.
You guys watch too much cable TV.

Morrigan Alexandros

Take a load off, Chutley;
Let me tell you a tale of a man that's dead.
He was a poor mountaineer,
Who barely kept his family fed.

Good Chutley

Well then, I'm sittin'.
Carry on, dear Morrigan, while I engage in some spliffin'.


Morrigan Alexandros

Last night,
Just after Leno and before Jimmy Fallon,
Joe DaSmoe and myself,
The bell then beating one,--

Enter ghost





Joe DaSmoe

Holy smokes! STFU!
Look, where it comes again!

Morrigan Alexandros

F*** me sideways!, like the king that's dead.

Joe DaSmoe

Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Good Chutley.

Good Chutley

It fills me with fear and loathing.
Is it a king, or.. or.. a Scrabman?

Morrigan Alexandros

It would be spoke to.

Joe DaSmoe

Question it, Chut.

Good Chutley

What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,
Together with that greenish bumpy form,
In which the majesty of buried Pickldom
Did sometimes march?

By Dio, I charge thee, speak!

Morrigan Alexandros

It is offended. See, it stalks away!

Joe DaSmoe

No. This isn't smart, but,
Methinks it just had to fart. LOL!

Good Chutley

Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

Exit ghostly presence





Morrigan Alexandros

Frig! 'Tis gone. You just had to make a fart joke,
Didn't thee, DaSmoe?

Joe DaSmoe

How now, Chutley! Bro, you look mighty pale.
Well, even paler than usual.
Is this not something more than fantasy?
What think you on't?

Good Chutley

Before Dio and Lewis and all the saints of Theocracy,
I might not have belived it if I hadn't-a seened it
Of mine own eyes.

Morrigan Alexandros

Is it not like the king?

Good Chutley

Dang tootin'! With the very Picklish Armor he had on
When he the ambitious Hungary Hippos combated
And smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
'Tis strange.

Joe DaSmoe

Thus twice before, and just before The Late Show,
With briny stink hath he gone by our watch.

Good Chutley

Not quite Swamp Thing, but it is a little gross.
Hmm, this bodes some strange eruption to our state.

Joe DaSmoe

Pass me that bone, Good Chutley and tell me
Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly trolls the threads of this land,
And why such pickly implements of war;
Why such prickly attitude, whose sore task
Does not even take a day off to celebrate
The Bruins thumping of the Canucks;
What might be toward, that this sour taste
Doth make the night's joint so paranoidial:
Who is't that can inform me?





Good Chutley

That can I;
At least, the tweets so go. Our last king,
Whose image even but now has slunk to us,
Was, as you know, by Tekelija Major, King of Nis,
Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
Dared to the combat; in which valiant Thedillpickl--
For which this side of our known e-world so esteems him--
Did slay this senior-most Tekelija;
Who by a seal'd compact ratified by Plato,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:
Against the which, a sinecure most Tejana
Was granted by our Great Pickl which would've return'd
To the inheritance of the Tekeliji,
Had they been able to slay the Lion King,
And by the same smoke-filled, poker-table deal,
It fell to Thedillpickl.

Now, sir, young Jovan Tekelija,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Nis here and there
Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
For food and tanks, to some one enterprise
That hath a stomach in't; which is no other--
As it doth well appear on the Daily Battle Report--
But to recover of us, by strong hand
And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,
The source of this our Unity watch and the chief head
Of this post-haste and rumblings in the land.

Joe DaSmoe

Tru dat.
This portentious figure doth look a bit like Emerick.

Good Chutley

A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. Recall
In the most high and plummy state of Romania,
A little ere the mightiest of V1 fell,
The dead did squeek and gibber in the streets
of Bala Mare, with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the shifting sands
Upon whose influence Dio's empire stood
Fell sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
And like teasers of those fierce events,
As harbingers preceeding still the main feature
And prologue to The Omen coming on,
Have e-heaven and e-earth together demonstrated
Upon our forums and e-countrymen...

By sweet Chuck Norris, behold! lo, where it comes again!

Re-enter Ghost





Good Chutley

By Jeezub, Littleton and Gaylord Tinkledink! Stay, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me:
If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease and grace to me,
Speak to me:

A chorus of cicadas

If thou are privy to thy e-country's fate,
Which, Scrab it all, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!
Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure from the parties of the earth,
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in e-death,
Speak of it: stay, and speak!

Stop it, Joe, that tickles!

Joe DaSmoe
Stops tickling Chutley and draws his rocket launcher.

Shall I strike at it with my level four?

Good Chutley

Dooo eet!

Morrigan Alexandros

'Tis here!

Good Chutley

'Tis there!

Joe DaSmoe

Crap! 'Tis gone!

Exit Ghost





Joe DaSmoe

We do it wrong, being so majestical,
To offer it the show of violence;
For it is, as the interwebs, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.

Morrigan Alexandros

It was about to speak, when the cicadas started that ruckus.

Good Chutley

And then it ducked out like an overfull thing
Upon an urgent summons. I have heard, birds,
The crickets that are trumpet to our swampy morn,
Doth with their lofty and shrill-sounding throats
Awake the god of reset; and, at that warning,
Whether in Nis or Nice or Nanavut,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine; and of the truth herein
This present object has made probation.

Joe DaSmoe

It is said that wherein Dio's birth is celebrated,
The crickets of dawning chirp all night long:
And then, they say, no evil spirit dares stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no rivers run with blood,
Nor witch has power to spell with nines,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Good Chutley

So have I heard and do in part believe it.
Look yonder, the morn in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of Old Man Gilly's yar😛
Break we our watch up, lads; by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto Thedillpickl; for, upon my e-life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our bromance, and fitting our duty?

Joe DaSmoe

Let's do't. And I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.


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