'Glass Menagerie' Parody: 'A Month Of Fridays' (for petitecuriosity)
Author's Note: This sketch is about performing in cabaret. The more popular entertainers on the small time circuit get the weekend slots, because it is all about filling seats. The cover charges are insane, as are the drink prices. Beyond that, you're on your own.
A MONTH OF FRIDAYS
ANNOUNCER
Tonight, we are proud to present, for the first time, Tennessee Williams’s long lost masterpiece: “A Month of Fridays”.
(LIGHTS UP ON BEAU, AN EXTREMELY TALL, THIN YOUNG MAN, STANDING TO ONE SIDE OF THE STAGE. FILM NOIR MUSIC PLAYS UNDER THE FOLLOWING SPEECH)
BEAU
This is a memory play. Since it is memory, I can change it any way I want. For instance, in real life I’m only five foot five. In memory, everything seems to happen to music. There are four characters in this play: me, my mother Lorena, my sister Prettybelle, and the gentleman booker. My father is not in this play. He ran screaming into the night because Mother put on one of those damn Edith Piaf records once too often.
LORENA
(OFFSTAGE) Beau?
BEAU
Yes, Mother! I think the rest of the play will explain itself.
(LIGHTS UP ON FULL STAGE, A SHABBY LIVING ROOM. ON A SIDE TABLE IS A TACKLE BOX AND FISHING TACKLE. LORENA SWEEPS IN, A FADED WOMAN IN HER 50S, IN A SHABBY PEIGNOIR. PRETTYBELLE, HER FAT SLOVENLY DAUGHTER, 30S, FOLLOWS. BOTH HAVE HEAVY SOUTHERN ACCENTS.)
LORENA
Dinner’s nearly ready, honeychile, and Prettybelle’s made a simply exquisite tomato Jello-mold. Why don’t I reminisce while we wait for the pectin to solidify?
BEAU
Please don’t, Mother-
PRETTYBELLE
Let her tell it. She loves to tell it.
(SOFT, NOSTALGIC MUSIC STARTS UP. LORENA STRIKES A POSE.)
LORENA
(Dreamily) I remember one year-it must have been after the war-when I was the most popular chanteuse in town! I played every Friday and Saturday night for the month at the La Vie En Rose nightclub. Weekends at ten and midnight! I was the headline attraction! Every seat was filled. I was performing my tribute to Edith Piaf-
BEAU
Not again.
LORENA
(SINGS ‘LA VIE EN ROSE’; BREAKS OFF) I got a standing ovation and two encores. Every night. My dressing room was filled with jonquils from my admirers! There was that lovely boy from the New York Herald Tribune-he’s dead now-he wrote that “Miss Lorena Duchamp’s voice is a gift from heaven.” And it was. A gift, to my two hundred and fifty seat-filling customers. And in those days, you didn’t need a drink minimum, ‘cause everybody drank like fish…
PRETTYBELLE
The management must have loved you, Mama.
(MUSIC STOPS)
LORENA
I gave up a brilliant career to marry that no-good scum sucker-your father. But you, Prettybelle, you will have the brilliant career I should have had! You will headline at the Palace Theater! You will bring the immortal Piaf back to life!
PRETTYBELLE
But Mama, I can’t sing.
LORENA
Oh, you, spendin’ all your time fussin’ with that fishing tackle. When you have the voice of an ANGEL!
PRETTYBELLE
Mama, that singing teacher you sent me to told me I have no talent.
LORENA
What does he know? His most famous pupil is Mongo the Talking Chimp.
PRETTYBELLE
Mama, I have to go attend to my tackle collection.
(SHE EXITS)
LORENA
(CALLING AFTER HER) Those silly old fish poles and lures-why don’t you lure an agent to this house? (TO BEAU) What am I gonna do? She’s never even had one audition. Not one. She’s gonna end up cleaning toilets at the Hyatt Regency.
BEAU
Mother, I called a friend of mine. He’s a talent booker for a small nightclub downtown. He said he’d be glad to come hear sister sing. He’s coming tonight.
LORENA
Oh, my stars! A gentleman booker! At last! We have to get ready! We can’t have a gentleman booker in a pigsty! Oh, and Prettybelle’s voice-she has to warm up! (CALLS OFF) Prettybelle! Prettybelle, get out your nicest dress! We have a gentleman booker coming tonight!
(BLACKOUT. LIGHTS UP ON LORENA PUTTERING AROUND THE ROOM. SHE IS STILL IN THE SAME FADED PEIGNOIR, BUT HAS ADDED A FEATHER BOA, CHANDELIER EARRINGS AND HIGH HEELS)
LORENA
(TO HERSELF) We need to make a nice impression…after tonight, my baby is going to be a STAR.
(LORENA SINGS PIAF TO HERSELF AS SHE PUTTERS. BEAU ENTERS WITH BENEDICT ELLIS, THE GENTLEMAN BOOKER, TALL, ELEGANTLY DRESSED.)
BEAU
Mother, this is Benedict Ellis. He’s the booking manager of the Blue Cockatoo Club.
BENEDICT
Well, hello.
LORENA
(IN OVERDRIVE) Mr. Ellis of the Blue Cockatoo! Introductions entirely unnecessary! I’ve heard so much about you from my boy. I said to Beau, why don’t you bring that nice Mr. Ellis to our home to hear my daughter, rather than audition her in some stuffy hall? You can sit down, relax-oh, my heavens, the drinks!
(LORENA EXITS. BENEDICT AND BEAU TRADE LOOKS)
BENEDICT
Your mother is very…spritely.
BEAU
We should have her put away.
(LORENA RETURNS WITH A TRAY OF DRINKS)
LORENA
Louisiana cherry bounce for our big night! The bourbon gives it its kick, the sugar makes it sweet, and the cherries make it pretty! Remember, the more you drink, the better Prettybelle will sound!
BENEDICT
You look familiar.
(NOSTALGIA MUSIC STARTS UP AGAIN)
LORENA
Perhaps you remember Lorena Duchamp, headliner at the famous La Vie En Rose club?
BENEDICT
My father booked that room!
LORENA
Oh, my! Is that a fact? It was the most beautiful nightclub in town. At least, when I was there. I performed my tribute to the Little Sparrow herself. I had a month of Fridays. And Saturdays. I was the weekend headliner.
BENEDICT
You don’t say?
BEAU
Mother-
(THE MUSIC STOPS)
LORENA
But enough about me and my fabulous but prematurely aborted singing career. I’ll go get Prettybelle. It’s rare for a girl as sweet and lovely as Prettybelle to be talented, Mr. Ellis. But then, she gets it from me.
(SWEEPS OUT SINGING, RE-ENTERS DRAGGING PRETTYBELLE, WHO IS IN AN UNBECOMING DRESS SUITABLE FOR A TEN YEAR OLD AND BIG FLOPPY HAIR BOW)
LORENA
Here’s our beautiful songbird! Beau, you silly, come help your mama with the dishes! Let’s leave these two alone. Enjoy your cherry bounce, Mr. Ellis!
(BEAU AND LORENA EXIT. SOFT MUSIC AS BENEDICT AND PRETTYBELLE LOOK AT EACH OTHER.)
PRETTYBELLE
(Faintly) Hello.
BENEDICT.
Hello. My goodness, you’re-
PRETTYBELLE
You’re Benedict Ellis, from high school!
BENEDICT
And you’re-no, you couldn’t be. I was going to call you-
PRETTYBELLE
New Roses?
BENEDICT
Yes! How did you know?
PRETTYBELLE
Do you remember when we were cast in the end of the year musical? In twelfth grade?
BENEDICT
“Most Happy Fella”! We were both in the chorus!
PRETTYBELLE
Do you-do you remember the dress rehearsal?
BENEDICT
I should say I do. You were terrified.
PRETTYBELLE
Mama forced me to be in the show. I was so scared-we were singing “Big D” and I got sick all over Mr. Lieberman, the drama coach. He said I was full of neuroses.
BENEDICT
I thought he said “New Roses.” And to be honest, it did match the color of the-
PRETTYBELLE
(INTERUPTING) Yes, I remember! Would you like to see some of my fishing tackle?
BENEDICT
That’s quite a collection. Do you fish?
PRETTYBELLE
No. I just like fishing tackle. Mama calls it my “bass menagerie”.
(BEAT)
PRETTYBELLE
I guess I should sing for you. Mama wants me to sing “Je Ne Regrette Rien”.
BENEDICT
No, Prettybelle, I can tell that’s not who you really are. As long as you don’t sing “My Funny Valentine.” It’s hell, I tell you. Please. What kind of music do you like to listen to?
PRETTYBELLE
Well, Mama hates him, but I love…Kenny Rogers.
BENEDICT
(HORRIFIED BUT POLITE) Kenny Rogers…?
PRETTYBELLE
I know all his songs by heart!
(MUSIC STARTS. PRETTYBELLE BELTS OUT “YOU DECORATED MY LIFE”, BADLY, WITH ILLUSTRATIVE GESTURES AND DANCE STEPS. BENEDICT WATCHES IN DISBELIEF; SWIGS DRINK; FINALLY BURIES HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS. PRETTYBELLE GIVES A BIG FINISH AND LOOKS AT HIM.)
PRETTYBELLE
Didn’t you like it?
BENEDICT
I just remembered that Mr. Lieberman asked you to lip sync the songs in “Most Happy Fella”.
PRETTYBELLE
Yes, he did.
BENEDICT
Prettybelle, if energy were talent, you’d be… Shirley Maclaine! (BEAT) But it isn’t. And you’re not. I’m sorry.
PRETTYBELLE
What’s Mama gonna say? Benedict, my whole life, Mama has been going on about her “month of Fridays,” the two hundred and fifty customers, the standing ovations-
BENEDICT
Let me tell you something, Prettybelle. My father booked that club. I remember when your mother played there. It wasn’t on the weekends. It was one Monday, at six o’clock. And only two people showed up. They were friends from her office.
(LORENA ENTERS, FOLLOWED BY BEAU)
LORENA
Well, is my little girl a STAR?
PRETTYBELLE
He’s not going to book me, Mama! And I’m glad!
LORENA
Not-not going to book Prettybelle?
BENEDICT
I’m sorry, Mrs. Duchamp.
PRETTYBELLE
Well, I’m not! Because now I can do what I really want!
LORENA
Really, Miss High & Mighty? And whatever might that be?
PRETTYBELLE
I’m taking my fishing tackle and moving to Maine! I’m actually gonna catch some bass, instead of just dreaming of cleaning and scaling them! Thank you, Benedict, for setting me free.
BENEDICT
(SMILING) Well, if there’s one thing the world doesn’t need, it’s another bad singer.
(PRETTYBELLE TAKES A FISHING LURE FROM HER COLLECTION)
PRETTYBELLE
Here. I want you to have this, Benedict. To remember me by.
(SHE TENDERLY FOLDS HIS HAND OVER IT. HE GRIMACES IN PAIN AS THE HOOK JABS HIM)
BENEDICT
Ow! Thank you, Prettybelle.
PRETTYBELLE
Goodbye!
(SHE EXITS, SINGING “RUBY, DON’T TAKE YOUR LOVE TO TOWN”. THERE IS A PAUSE AS THEY ALL STAND THERE.)
LORENA
I sing too, you know.
BENEDICT
Oh, my God.
(LORENA LAUNCHES INTO ‘LA VIE EN ROSE’ AS BENEDICT WATCHES IN AGONY. LIGHTS DOWN, EXCEPT FOR ONE SPOT ON BEAU, OFF TO THE SIDE)
BEAU
So that’s how my mother came to be a regular at the Blue Cockatoo, every Monday at six o’clock. Prettybelle moved to Maine and lived out her dream…I get a package of fresh fish every month. And Benedict is still the booking manager at the Blue Cockatoo. Although there have been reports that he gets violent when he hears songs sung with a reedy French accent. And me? I became a hairstylist at the House of Fred on Main Street. I do a wicked backcomb.
(HE LOOKS BACK AT LORENA)
BEAU
We really should have her put away.
(MUSIC UP AND LIGHTS OUT)
THE END