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1 Posts

High Society» Forums » Sessions

Subject: [Long Live GBS] Your hat sir rss

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Johan Lew

Redwood Shores
California
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High Society

Your hat sir

Players: Fr, Mo, Da, By, Me
(plagiarized liberally from G.B.S.)

Covent Garden at 11.15 p.m. Torrents of heavy summer rain. Cab
whistles blowing frantically in all directions. Pedestrians running
for shelter into the market and under the portico of St. Paul's
Church, where there are already several people, among them a lady
and her daughter in evening dress. They are all peering out gloomily
at the rain, except one man with his back turned to the rest, who
seems wholly preoccupied with a notebook in which he is writing
busily.

The church clock strikes the first quarter.

Da: I'm getting chilled to the bone. What can Fr be doing all this
time? He's been gone twenty minutes.
Mo: Not so long. But he ought to have got us a __CAB__(1) by this.
By: He won't get no __CAB__ until half-past eleven, missus, when
they come back after dropping their theater fares.
Mo: But we must have a __CAB__. We can't stand here until half-past
eleven. It's too bad.
By: Well, it aint my fault. missus.
Da: If Fr had a bit of gumption, he would have got one at the theater
door.
Mo: What could he have done, poor boy?
Da: Other people [By takes a __CAB__] got cabs. Why couldn't he?

Fr rushes in out of the rain from the Southampton Street side, and
comes between them closing a dripping umbrella. He is a young man of
twenty, in evening dress, very wet around the ankles.

Da: Well, haven't you got a __CAB__?
Fr: There's not one to be had for love or money.
Mo: Oh, Fr, there must be one. You can't have tried.
Da: It's too tiresome. Do you expect us to go and get us a __HORSE__(7)
instead?
Fr: I tell you even they are all engaged. The rain was so sudden:
nobody was prepared; and everybody had a chance at a __CAB__. I've been
to Charing Cross one way and nearly to Ludgate Circus the other, perhaps
another __HORSE__ will do.
By: Yes'um. That'll do, that'll. [By takes a __HORSE__]
Mo: Did you try perhaps a run at Trafalgar __SQUARE__(Villa: 10)?
Fr: There's a nice thought.
Da: Did you try?
Fr: I tried as far as Charing Cross Station. Did you expect me to
walk all the way to the __SQUARE__?
Da: You haven't tried at all. [Da take the __SQUARE__]
Mo: You really are very helpless, Fr. Go again; and don't come back until
you have found a ride.
Fr: I shall simply get soaked for nothing.
Da: And what about us? Are we to stay here all night in this draught,
with next to nothing on. You selfish pig--
Fr: Oh, very well: I'll go, I'll go [He opens his umbrella and dashes off
Strandwards, but come into collision with a flower __GIRL__ (5), who
is hurrying in for shelter, knocking her basket out of her hands.
A blinding flash of lightning followed instantly by a rattling peal
of thunder, orchestrates the incident.]
Me: Nah then, look wh'y' gowing, deah. [Me takes a __SCANDAL__(-5)]
Fr: Sorry [rushes off with __GIRL's IMAGE__ (3)]
Me: [picking up her scattered flowers and replacing them in the basket]
There's menners f'yer! Te-oo banches o voylets trod into the mad. [She
sits down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers, on the lady's
right. She is not at all an attractive person. She is perhaps eighteen,
perhaps twenty, hardly older. She wears a little sailor hat [Mo takes
the _SAIL_(8)] of black straw that has long been exposed to the dust
and soot of London and has seldom if ever been brushed. Her hair
needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly be natural.
She wear a shoddy black coat that reaches nearly to her kness and is
shaped to her waist. She has a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her
boots are much the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she
can afford to be; but compared to the ladies she is very dirty. Her
feature are no worse than theirs; but their condition leaves something
to be desired; [By takes _PROUD RECOGNITION_ (2x)] and she needs the
services of a dentist.]
Mo: How do you know that my son's name is Fr, pray?
Me: Ow, eez ye-ooa san, is e? Wal, fewd dan y' de-ooty bawmz a mather
should, eed now bettem to spawl a pore gel's flahrzn than ran awy athaht
pyin. Will ye-oo py me fthem? [Here, with apologies, this desperate attempt
to represent her dialect without a phonetic alphabet must be abandoned as
unintelligible outside London.]
Da: Do nothing of the sort mother. The idea!
Mo: Please allow me, Clara. Have you any pennies?
Da: No. I've nothing smaller than sixpence.
Me: I can give you change for a tanner, kind lady.
Da: Make her give you the change. These things are only a penny a bunch.
Mo: Do hold your tongue, Clara. [To Me]. You can keep the change.
Me: Oh, thank you, lady. [Me takes _COAT_OF_ARMS_ (2x)]
Mo: Now tell me how you know that young gentleman's name.
Me: I didn't
Mo: I heard you call him by it. Don't try to deceive me.
Me: Who's trying to deceive you? I called him Fr or Char same as you might
yourself if you was talking to a stranger and wished to be pleasant. [She
sits down beside her basket].
Da: Sixpence thrown away! Really, mamma, you might have spared Fr that.
[She retreats in disgust behind the _PILLAR_ [Me takes the _PILLAR_(9)]

An elderly gentleman of the amiable military type rushed into shelter, and closes
a dripping umbrella. He is in the same plight as Fr, very wet about the ankles.
He is in evening dress, with a light overcoat. He takes the place left vacant
by the daughter's retirement.

By: Phew!
Mo: Oh, sir, is there any sign of its stopping? [Da _BRAZING_(1/2) with anger].
By: I'm afraid not. It started worse than ever about two minutes ago. [He
goes to the plinth beside Me; puts up his foot in it; and stoops to turn down
his trouser ends].
Mo: Oh, dear! [She retires sadly and joins her daughter].
Me [taking advantage of the military gentleman's proximity to establish friendly
relations with him]....

[Did I say _MILITARY_(2x)??? The end...]

Tally:

By
CAB 1
HORSE 7
RECOG 2x

Da
VILLA 10
BLAZES 1/2

Fr
GIRL 5
IMAGE 3

Me
SCANDAL -5
COAT OF ARMS 2x
PILLAR 9

Mo
SAIL 8
 
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