New Albion by Dwayne Brenna Page B

with the copyist have made this tardiness inevitable.”
    Mr. Tyrone delivered the play script, or what there was of it, into our waiting hands. Two meager pages. We had to satisfy ourselves with two meager pages.
    Still energized from the previous evening’s misadventures, and sporting a jagged cut over his left eye which was the apparent result of a collision with a piece of falling scenery, Mr. Hicks weighed the pages in his hand. “She’s a trifle deficient in the weight of her cargo,” he said amicably. “If you would be so kind, First Mate Tyrone, as to cast me the second, third, fourth, and fifth acts, as well.”
    Mr. Watts was nowhere to be seen; he had been given the day off to prepare for the evening’s performance of Fine Old British Veterans .
    Standing at the head of the table next to Old Stoneface, Pratty cleared his throat and made his address. “Time, with His stealing hand, has necessitated that I provide you with only the first scene of a manuscript that will move the British pantomime forward a hundred years. My heartfelt apologies for that,” and he cast a sidelong glance at Mr. Wilton, “but I must inform you that I only signed the contract for deliverance of this manuscript two mornings ago.”
    “Well,” said Mr. Wilton, not taking the bait, “let us read.” He cleared his throat and turned to Mr. Farquhar Pratt. “And whom do you propose should read which part?”
    Pratty waved his hand erratically in the direction of the actors. “Immaterial at this moment,” he said. “Mr. Watts is not present?”
    There was a faint stirring amongst the acting company. Mr. Wilton leapt to the rescue. “Mr. Watts is presently indisposed,” he said, “due to an incident which shall be dealt with at a later date.”
    ‘Well then,” said the old man, “the part of Wanky Twanky Fum will fall to Mr. Hicks on this occasion. If Mr. Simpson could read the Genie. Miss Wilton, Chin Chan Chow. Mr. West, Noko. The rest shall fall out as it will.”
    Without further ado, we read through the first scene of the pantomime. It was as follows:

    Scene the First
    (Palace of Wanky Twanky Fum, Emperor of China)
    Noko. And will your father the Great Emperor Than Whom None Greater Can Be Imagined not countenance our marriage?
    Chin Chan Chow. Alas, good Noko, no. He is positively determined never to let me marry a military man. He served in the British Navy as a young boy, and therein he developed an antipathy for the army.
    Noko. And will he never relent, knowing our love to be true?
    Chin Chan Chow. Never. He says he would rather have molten gold poured down his throat. Oh me! I fear I shall die an old maid.
    (Enter Wanky Twanky Fum.)
    Wanky Twanky Fum. What’s this? What’s this? My own daughter disobeying my wishes? Did I not advise you, young lubber, to keep a league’s distance from my daughter?
    Noko. You did so advise.
    Wanky Twanky Fum. And did you not signal your acceptance of my advice?
    Noko . A mere mortal should not be made to promise what love alone can dictate.
    Chin Chan Chow. I love him, father. Are my wishes not enough?
    Wanky Twanky Fum. Harlot! Your wishes count for nothing. Am I not Emperor of China? Am I not Master in my own palace?
    (Enter a Genie.)
    Genie (aside). I am the Spirit of Chaos and will transform the scene. (to the others) Spare some change for a poor man, down on his luck?
    Wanky Twanky Fum. How did this beggar gain entrance to the palace? Be gone, sir, or I will have you beheaded.
    Genie. Is there no mercy for the poor traveler?
    Wanky Twanky Fum. None, sir, if you will not depart and leave me to sort out my domestic life.
    Genie. Very well. (He performs a spell, throwing a yellowish powder in their faces.) We’ll see how you fare in another realm.
    (He transforms the scene to the Kingdom of Needles and Pins.)

    As the reading came to an end, a silence descended upon the assembled artisans of the New Albion Theatre. Mr. Hicks stared at the second and last page for a good long