POUNCE: Jeez, Matt, aren't we done with this thing YET?!
MATT: I was THIS CLOSE to being done last night. It wasn't my fault the computer lab closes at 12:45 AM.
TUMBLE: It's THAT LATE when you torment us like this? No wonder there's so much insanity when you're in the junkyard.
(When we last left off, Jonesy was throwing knives at Munkusid for going out with Bombys, who gave him the key to the company books, and Munkusid read the books and noticed something, prompting him to call Deutler in...right during Jonsey's knife-throwing tirade...and just when the Union parade is about to begin...)
(Munkusid has briefly left the office. He comes back and a fairly battered Jones is with him.)
OLD D: Jones, where have you been? On the job! THe place is full of gangsters. They're out to get me.
MUNKU: They're not after you, Mr. Deutler, they're after me.
OLD D: Talk, talk. Why doesn't someone do something? (He grabs the phone and begins to call the police.)
MUNKU: You don't want to arrest Jones, do you?
OLD D: JONES?!
MUNKU: He was trying to kill me.
OLD D: He was? (turns to Jones) Jones, suppose you'd succeeded, and me right in the middle of labor troubles. Suppose you'd hit him.
POUNCE: Then we could all move on to the next parody...
BUSTOPHER: I could have hit him if I wanted to, I was just trying to scare him.
OLD D: Is this what you called me about, to come here and endanger my life?
MUNKU: No!
OLD D: I don't want to be involved in these personal matters.
MUNKU: I called you because there's going to be a strike this morning unless you listen to me.
OLD D: I told you that I'm a fighter.
MUNKU: So am I.
OLD D: What?!
MUNKU: Bombys, have his head patched up.
BOMB: (grabbing Jones by the arm) Come on, Vernon!
BUSTOPHER: Take your hands off me, I'm a fighter!
BOMB: Come on, tiger. (They head out.)
MUNKU: Mr. Deutler, I'm going before the Board of Directors.
OLD D: You are WHAT?!
GUS: And I thought I had gone hard of hearing.
MUNKU: If I can't solve this any other way.
OLD D: Solve what? Sometimes I think...
MUNKU: I've been up all night with your ledger.
OLD D: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!
LEC: Sheesh, Old D, turn on your hearing aid!
MUNKU: I apologize. I know you didn't hire me as a safecracker, but I had to get some facts. I've been through your books.
OLD D: You mean to say that you--
MUNKU: That seven and a half cents was added to the costs six months ago.
OLD D: I can put you in jail, that's what I can do. Put you in jail!
MUNKU: No, you can't, but you can give that raise. If you don't, I'll go before the board and tell them the situation and tell them how many orders have been cancelled.
OLD D: Not one darn order!
MUNKU: Read your mail. There's a dozen cancellations. Grizbel tried all day yesterday to tell you about Marx and Klein. And if this operation folds up, I fold with it. And I don't want to. So, do me a favor. Sit down and talk to me.
(Deutler collapses in a chair.)
(The next scene takes place on a street near the park. THe factory cats all rush on to the stage.)
EXOTICA: Sure, Deutler was in Strapokin's office when we marched by the factory. Now he'll know we mean business!
RUMPLE: 'Ere comes Preztoffelees!
(Preztoffelees enters.)
EXOTICA: Hey, why ain't you in the parade, Preztoffelees?
MISTO: I don't want to get out of breath before making my speech.
PLATO: This will wake them up.
ALL: Unlike Old D's speeches...
MISTO: Is my ribbon straight?
TANTI: I don't know, ask your wife.
EXOTICA: We're sure to win, ain't we, Preztoffolees?
TUMBLE: Well, given that this musical was written in 1954, during the golden age of "feel-good" musicals, what do YOU think?!
MISTO: What kind of question is that, sure we are! (Babemeter enters with Jemima) Babemeter will tell you.
DEM: THe answer is yes--that's the answer to everything today. What is it?
EXOTICA: I just asked were we going to win the strike.
DEM: Sure, we're going to win, and that ain't all.
MISTO: Babemeter and me was up half the night figuring things out. I got it all written down on paper.
EXOTICA: What do you mean, Preztoffolees?
MATT: This is one of my favorite songs from the play, PLEASE don't screw it up!
MISTO: (sings) I figured it out, I figured it out
With a pencil and a pad I figured it out
Seven and a half cents doesn't buy a heck of a lot
Seven and a half cents doesn't mean a thing
But give it to me every hour
Forty hours every week,
That's enough for me to be livin' like a king.
I figured it out
ALL: He figured it out
MISTO: I figured it out
ALL: He figured it out
MISTO: With a pencil and a pad I figured it out
Only five years from today, only five years from today
I can see it all before me
Only five years from today...
Five years...that's 260 weeks, times 40 hours every week, and roughly two and a quarter hours for overtime at time and a half for overtime...comes to exactly $852.74!
ALL: Hooray! That's enough for me to get
An automatic washing machine
A year's supply of gasoline
Carpeting for the living room
A vacuum instead of the blasted broom
MISTO: Not to mention a forty-inch television set
ALL: So, although seven and a half cents doesn't buy a heck of a lot
Seven and a half cents doesn't mean a thing
But give it to me every hour, forty hours every week
That's enough for me to be livin' like a king.
DEM: I figured it out
ALL: She figured it out, she figured it out
DEM: I figured it out
With a pencil and a pad I figured it out
Only ten years from today, only ten years from today
I can see it clear as daylight, only ten years from today....
Ten years...that's 520 weeks, times 40 hours every week...and roughly two and a quarter hours for overtime...comes to exactly $1, 705.48!
That's enough for me to buy
A trip to France across the seas
A motorboat and water skis
Maybe even a foreign car
TUMBLE: A charge account at the corner bar
DEM: Not to mention a Scrabble board with letters made of gold.
ALL: So, although seven and a half cents doesn't buy a heck of a lot
Seven and a half cents doesn't mean a thing
But give it to me every hour
Forty hours every week
That's enough for me to be livin' like a king!
MISTO: We figured it out
ALL: They figured it out, they figured it out, they figured it out
MISTO AND DEM: With a pencil and a pad we figured it out...
DEM: Only twenty years from today
MISTO: Only twenty years from today
DEM: I can see it like a vision
ALL: Only twenty years from today...
(Preztoffolees and Babemeter speak this next part)
MISTO: Twenty years...now let's see. THat's 1, 040 weeks...
DEM: Times 40 hours every week
MISTO: Roughly two and a quarter hours overtime at
DEM: TIme and a half for overtime
MISTO: Comes to exactly
DEM: Three thousand, four hundred and eleven dollars...
MISTO: And ninety six cents!
ALL: WOW!
(They sing again)
MISTO: That's enough for me to be
A Sultan in a Taj Mahal
In every room a different doll
DEM: I"ll have myself a buyin' spree
I'll buy a pajama factory
Then I could end up havin' Old Man Deutler work for me!
ALL: So, although seven and a half cents doesn't buy a heck of a lot
Seven and a half cents doesn't mean a thing
But give it to me every hour, forty hours every week,
And that's enough for me to be
Livin' like a king!
(Munkusid enters.)
MUNKU: Preztoffolees...
MISTO: Yeah?
MUNKU: We can settle this strike...
GEORGE: And end this play, and get some chow...
MISTO: Well, how?
MUNKU: Sleep Tite can offer you a compromise.
MISTO: What?
MUNKU: Mr. Deutler will give you the seven and a half cents if you give up the claims for retroactive pay.
TANTI: We ain't givin' up nothing.
MISTO: Now wait, Munkusid, I don't know.
DEM: Well, I do. Let's get it over. We've won!
EXOTICA: We've won! We've won!
TUMBLE: Deutler's talkin'. He's at the rally!
ALL: Hooray!
MISTO: Come on! (the crowd runs out, nearly trampling Jones, who had been in the background.)
BUSTOPHER: I told you this show was full of symbolism.
(All that are left are Babemeter and Munkusid.)
DEM: Oh, Munkusid, I could kiss you, you've been wonderful!
MUNKU: I don't want to be kissed for settling a strike. Of course, if it's anything personal...
DEM: Oh, VERY personal.
(They kiss.)
DEM AND MUNKU: *PURRRRRRRRRRRR*
BUSTOPHER: (to the audience) Embarrassing, I call it.
(More lovey-dovey dialogue here which will make me lose my lunch if I type it,and then we go to Hernando's Hideaway for a big pajama party. Everyone is dancing and wearing pajamas. As the song ends, Coricomax gets the crowd's attention)
CORI: Attention! Step back more...step back.
OLD D: (entering in a pair of blue silk pajamas) Now, Coricomax.
CORI: Yes, M.D.
OLD D: I just want to say one word.
CORI: OK, M.D.!
CATS: NO!!!
OLD D: Fellow Sleep Titers, this demonstration of harmony in our factory hits something deep inside of me and I know this party of yours is going to be a great success because it stems from a genuine Sleep Tite spirit of solidarity.
OTHER CATS: (unenthusiastically) Hooray.
MATT: Try to show some enthusiasm!
POUNCE: Well, it's a bit hard when Old D has these long, rambling lines.
CORI: Well, we sure all say OK to that, M.D. SO, on with our little tribute to Sleep TIte Pajamas. And now on with the Sleep Tite fashion parade. Wear Sleep Tite at all social functions!
(A curtain opens, and Grizbel comes out.)
GRIZ: Dresses are fine, but Sleep TIte's divine!
CORI: Sleep Tite has everything: Grace, style, and comfort!
(The curtains open again, and out come Preztoffolees and two queens in pajamas)
EXOTICA: I'm grace!
MISTO: I'm style!
TANTI: I'm comfort!
CORI: Wear Sleep TIte for happy family life.
(THe curtains open again, with two toms--Quaxo and Admetus--in pajamas, and Jones and Bombys in striped "convict" pajamas.)
BUSTOPHER: Now I trust her night and day, that's true love the Sleep Tite way.
(Bombys tries to sneak off with the two toms, but Jones yanks her back by her collar. THere's a chain attached to it.)
CORI: And another point, Sleep Tite is economical.
(The curtains open again, with Munkusid in pajama bottoms and Babemeter in pajama tops.)
MUNKU: Married life is lots of fun.
DEM: Two can sleep as cheap as one!
MUNKU AND DEM: (sing)
The pajama game is the game we're in and
We're proud to be in the pajama game,
ALL: We love it! We can hardly wait to wake
And get to work at eight
Nothing's quite the same as the pajama game!
(END OF ACT 2)
MATT: Well, I must say, all things considered, you guys rocked yet again. Guys?
(The cats, all comfortable in their pajamas and exhausted from the play, have all spread out and fallen asleep in various parts of the junkyard.)
MATT: Those cats...well, they deserved it. (he curls up next to where Juliet is dozing under Old D's tire, and he too dozes off.)
THE END
This author does not own "The Pajama Game" or claim to have any connection with it. No profit has been made in the
creation of this fic, so please don't sue us!
This fic is © Matt
