New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:

Why Mouchoir de Monsieur? - Page 4  

post #181 of 291
1/2/11 at 2:38pm
...forgive me... I'm "off book"... (coughs)...

Wake up, child!
post #182 of 291
1/2/11 at 2:39pm
Thread Starter 
MrMcclmd: "What are you doin' lyin' in that stinkin' bed?!? Get up!"
post #183 of 291
1/2/11 at 2:52pm
Loungeboy has poured himself a rather large cognac and pokes at MDM in between sips with the shiny tip of a walking stick he found in the hall closet on his way in.
"Wake up", he murmurs mindlessly with each thrust.
"The vultures are circling MDM. That no account cousin of yours is already eyeing the silver"
post #184 of 291
1/2/11 at 2:54pm
Luna: You still in bed?
SoS: Wake up, sleepy-head!"
Laurentine: "We are of the going water and the gone. We are of water in the holy land of water"
Red:"Don't you know you've kept him waiting?"
Loungeboy: "Look who's here to see you!"
post #185 of 291
1/2/11 at 2:55pm
♫ wake up and make loooove with mee ♫ wake up and make luv ♫ ♫ is very good indeed ♫


edit : seen Ian Dury up there ?
post #186 of 291
1/2/11 at 3:11pm
... observer Luna composes herself and getting up from the chaise, reminds the gathered that the original intent of this gathering was to talk about bathing in cologne and some such other things... and that if Dear MdM is really beyond the pale he probably would not be interjecting others' lines here... so he must be fine.

She finds the shards of the mysterious teacup on the floor next to a fine old screen, cautiously picks them up with her gloved fingers and tips them into a nearby plant pot (carefully readjusting the soil so that the evidence is hidden) and strides into the adjoining room, still hearing the singing from MdM's fainting couch, to find...
post #187 of 291
1/2/11 at 3:19pm
LI**St**en** To ***mE***Li**St**en T**O ** Me*** HE***LP***ME****HE**LP***ME***BA**BY***PLE**ASE*** PLE**ASE***TA***LK***

You can't hear me
You can't hear what I'm sayin'
You don't hear what I'm sayin' do you?
post #188 of 291
1/2/11 at 3:21pm
Thread Starter 
BREAKING NEWS: It seems that, through the efforts of many friends, who, reportedly, would not allow Bleu de Chanel-wearing firemen into the house, telling them that they would most surely do him in, Village Eccentric "Mouchoir de Monsieur" has indeed come out of, and has apparently survived, his NDE. According to one account, upon awakening, he seemed to be emitting a scratchy vinyl 25 year old recording of Kate Bush, hisses, scratches, bumps and all, through his mouth, as soon as it began clearly breathing. Oxygen tubes filtered through a 2000ml gilded bee bottle of Guerlain's Eau du Coq, which his friends insisted upon to the point that the paramedic dispatched to revive him was later found bound, gagged and stuffed into a closet among countless pairs of YSL Johnny boots, have now been removed. His first words were not specifically audible, but have been reported to have sounded something like: "no baron de charlus." After several minutes of fanning and hand rubbing with Dr. Harris's Arlington infused silk habutae fans and Jo Malone Amber Lavender Body Cream, He seemed to audibly and clearly ask for a certain "Lau," and then began softly speaking in what sounded like French. Since French has been formally outlawed, and carries with infraction the Death Penalty, we will at this time not be able to translate what was said.
Neither is it presently clear at which time the infamous MdM will be entirely revived. Commentator and Ruling Sovereign of his posse, Mr. Redneck Perfumisto, has told us that there is still work to be done, and that he is busily at work doing it, at which point the enormous bronze and beveled glass double doors of MdM's town house were softly shut upon us. Peering as best we could through the parlor floor windows, it appears that his friends have all joined hands around his fainting couch, which has been pushed into the middle of the room, in order to form a kind of alter over which Mr. Perfumisto seems to be installed, sitting indian style on a burlwood pedistal atop fringed and tassled cushions and draperies, reading from an enormous leather bound book, and wielding an axios sensor filled with burning incense. The firemen we consulted, as they were loading their equipment
back into place, told us there were no hopes of having our way with these people, and that one of them, amid a raucous of voices screaming "Lunas! No! Don't!" had threatened them with a rolling pin. For the moment, all is calm around the property, and someone has just drawn the heavy draperies across all four front facing parlor floor windows of the residence. We will keep you informed of developments. Next, Mila Kunis tells us what Nathalie Portman really smells like, after this brief message.
post #189 of 291
1/2/11 at 4:12pm
^ He's coming to! A round of Eau de Coq for everybody - on the house!

[We shall wait with great anticipation, to put forth to MdM our inquiries as to the fragrant bathing habits of those on the other side.... ]
post #190 of 291
1/2/11 at 4:40pm
Acting as a voice to the horde of people who refrain from posting in fear of violating the sanctity of this brilliant and entertaining thread, I say, we are watching silently in delight.
post #191 of 291
1/2/11 at 4:53pm
*Dimi stops rocking, and peers out from the gloom*
post #192 of 291
1/2/11 at 5:39pm
...and Luna, walking into the other room (rolling pin in hand as she was in the kitchen looking for an appropriate teacup when she heard the commotion at the front door, chaos ensued, and she didn't want to brandish anything expensive) sees Dimi peering from under the chair... MdM is now sitting up and blinking... and says to Dimi "come on dear Dimi, I believe our friend is going to be fine now"... as she offers Dimi her gloved hand (and hides the rolling pin behind her back) she notices Monsieur Perfumisto on the pedestal, looking somewhat like a character from a Lewis Carroll story...
post #193 of 291
1/2/11 at 5:50pm
... Dimi, who can see said rolling pin concealed behind Miss Luna's back, reflected in MdM's antique venetian mirror draped with far-eastern finery, retreats to the shadows again.

"I'm not coming out".
"I was only trying to help. To offer MdM a tiny morsel of true Jicky parfum. To appease his thirst for trousery civet! And in a flacon so pretty and rare it is a treasure to hold in ones hand! I had no idea he might expire!"

Dimi pokes his head out from under the table and his eyes turn to slits...

"Put the rolling pin down Miss Luna".
post #194 of 291
1/2/11 at 6:05pm
And Luna, realizing her error (and inconvenient mirror placement) drops the rolling pin and says...."'Um... Oh... Sorry...

But dear Dimi, as you can see he is not dead. I'm not sure he was truly ever dead... in fact, I would swear that he simply had an out-of-body experience brought on by the ecstatic bliss of seeing those little treasures you offered him... Come out now."
post #195 of 291
1/2/11 at 6:13pm
*eyes still slitted*

Dimi looks around for concealed sharp objects and net traps suspended from the ceiling. He reaches for his rosewood box and emerges slowly from beneath the table. His knees crack as he finally stands up and dusts himself off.

"Miss Luna, I believe you're right. I had to think on the fly. With the threat of witnessing MdM's impending air-paddling hissy fit, I had to do something. I mean, he might have hurt himself! He might have toppled one of these fabulous art deco folding screens in his rage and pinned himself under it for days!"

Dimi looks at MdM's ashen face. Colour begins to blossom across his cheeks.
post #196 of 291
1/2/11 at 6:39pm
As Dimi and Luna go about their business, Loungeboy quaffs the last of the cognac from his unusualy large snifter. Sauntering over to the long overlooked and discarded JICKY cast aside by MDM, he swiftly palms it from the carpet. Jauntily whistling "Happy Days Are Here Again", he casually tosses the JICKY in the air and catches it repeatedly as if it were a rubber ball. Striding over to the bar and seizing the bottle of cognac with his free hand, he settles himself on the divan. He had hoped as things settled there might be an early supper....surely there was talk of seafood wasn't there?
A well. No matter. The color has returned to MDM and he seems even more lucid now....
post #197 of 291
1/2/11 at 6:55pm
Luna, having brought Dimi somewhat to HIS senses, looks around and wonders where the sweet wisp Laureline got off to and remembers having smelt a waft of H.O.T. Always and seeing a set of veils go up an elegant staircase... "ah, to sleep off the excitement..." she thinks...

Meanwhile, R. Perfumisto is still chanting and waving incense from his pedestal... seemingly oblivious to the calm that is settling around him... as the rest of them await the Monsieur's return to alertness. Luna wraps her pale green silk shawl 'round her shoulders and settles to another chair.
post #198 of 291
1/2/11 at 7:26pm
  • kbe
  • offline
  • Gender:
kbe pops the top off'n a cool Bud Longneck, sets way back in his rockin chair (sniffin gently at the 'fumed hankey stuck under the top of his right suspender strap) all the while eyeballin this strange bunch just a-hootin and a-jabberin at each other...
post #199 of 291
1/2/11 at 8:07pm
...and upon spying the rustically-garbed kbe, Actias asks... "Who let my cuz from Branson in here?"... ...

Ah well... at least you have the perfumed handkerchief (or is that a man-size Kleenex?)"...

... kbe totters offstage...
post #200 of 291
1/2/11 at 9:18pm
...RP grabs a non-alcoholic brewski from his vintage fridge down in the fragrance lab, and finding a page written by a stranger's hand in his formula book, dutifully reports back to the group yet one more version of the strange, wonderful, and mysterious goings-on which this thread seems to have created in an alternate universe....

From the Journal of Dr. Reedneck Prefumistico, 1/2/2010

I was called to the residence of one Mouchoir de Monsieur, otherwise known to his friends and acquaintances as "MdM", at approximately 3:00 PM this afternoon, give or take some unknown period of time. While I normally do not perform house calls, it was with some urgency that the young lady with the rolling pin did persuade me that a change in policy would suit me. Seeking to accommodate both said lady and an American gentleman with a firearm of unknown make, I accompanied them posthaste to the very charming home of Mr. Mouchoir de Monsieur.

I was met at the door by an unusual group of citizens, including two young men who appeared to be emergency personnel, and who were exiting the place rather quickly. One of them - I believe he was the fireman - appeared to be dragging the other, who was a paramedic of some kind. This younger man presented as if intoxicated, and did smell significantly of some sort of very loud feminine fragrance. He was covered with red blotches, which on closer inspection appeared rather like pouted lips, and smelled significantly of the root of Iris pallida. He appeared to be in some kind of delirium, responding to all inquiries with only two words - "Angel" and "Laureline". However, I was assured that this person was not MdM, who was apparently upstairs, unconscious and stretched out on a "fainting couch", as these people called it. I offered to treat the individual at hand, but was persuaded otherwise by present company and their charming implements.

When we arrived upstairs, I became aware that these good people were a cult of some kind, apparently followers of MdM, a vigorous advocate of the bathing of oneself in fragrance. While my nether bits did tempt me to ask the young ladies present for a demonstration of this practice, my excellent medical training told me that it was imperative to begin treatment immediately, in hopes of a successful outcome, and possibly a more in-depth demonstration at a later time.

The cult members drew said fainting couch to the center of the room, whereupon I began to inquire as to the history of the subject, including in particular the nature of any intoxicants which he might have ingested or inhaled in the recent past. Running out of room on my memo pad, I rephrased the question, inquiring as to which intoxicants would have been most likely to have had the observed effects. Strenuously objecting to the possibility that this was due to either the subject's normal pills or vodka, one cult member believed that MdM's misfortune had resulted from seeing a certain bottle of fragrance. However, as a man of science, I was not moved by such superstition, and instead sought a chemical agent as the most likely culprit. Eventually, a consensus emerged among the cult members that this was with all likelihood the work of a certain fragrance, "H.O.T. Always".

Apparently, it was the practice of MdM to make mental journeys of some kind through the use of fragrance. It was suspected by the cult members that MdM had apparently slipped back into a prior journey, in something analogous to sequelae observed with the ingestion of lysergides and other hallucinogens. The American gentleman assured me that this was possible, allowed by both the quantum mechanics and some Indian religion to which he adhered. When asked which branch of Hinduism or Buddhism was meant by Indian religion, he pointed his firearm at me, induced it to make a clicking noise, and said "The other kind." I took this to be some kind of mystical paradox of the cult, and inquired no further.

Seeking not to delay treatment, I asked for a sample of this "H.O.T. Always". The cult members searched high and low, but none was to be found. However, a certain chap among them, the guilt-ridden one named Dimitri, who appeared to be the keeper of their sacred ointments (also referred to as "vintage"), offered the idea of using another fragrance called Givenchy Gentleman, which was supposedly reminiscent of H.O.T. Always, or vice versa.

Thus, we applied Givenchy Gentleman to a men's handkerchief and placed it under the nose of the subject, MdM. Reading from a large, leather-bound book, which I initially took to be one of Satanic rites of some sort, instead I heard these words:

"Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of one's friend springs from his earnest counsel."

With these words, the group then began soothing the brow of the unconscious gentleman with copious quantities of a certain Guerlain eau de cologne, withdrawn from a large flacon provided by one of their gurus, who was called The Miracle Mind. Another, who was called Loungeboy, kept silent vigil while drinking a most fragrant concoction, assuring us that MdM was soon to return from his unexpected journey, being in possession of some kind of persistent mental connection with their leader, MdM. All the while, the women named Laureline, or Lau for short, and one named Actias Luna, or Luna, spoke in mysterious ways which appeared to be meaningful to the other cult members, relating to intricacies of the fragrant arts, as well as stories from the prior mental journeys of MdM.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, surprisingly, and just plain out of the blue, MdM gasped and began to converse with the cult members, although he appeared not to be fully aware of our presence.

"Jicky! Oh, Jicky!"

Then....

"Sylvaine! Oh, what have you done? Oh, what have you done to Jicky?"

With great commotion, the cult members began to attend to MdM, assuring him that this woman, Jicky, was unharmed, but that only her clothing - referred to rather unceremoniously as "packaging" - had been defiled by the other lady. Now as a medical doctor, I am obligated to report abuse of any kind which I should discover. However, when I inquired as to the current whereabouts of said Jicky, or the alleged perpetrator Sylvaine, I was very hastily conducted to the door of the residence and bid adieu, my work apparently done.

Before leaving, I should add, I was presented with two bottles of fragrance, which I was told were prize belongings of these people, most grateful for my services. One - a bottle of Givenchy Gentleman, I now wear on occasion, as a reminder of what was perhaps my most unusual case. The other bottle - a glass flacon of unknown vintage and manufacture, appears very old. I am still attempting to determine the nature of the contents.

Thus ended my most interesting case. I am not aware of the final outcome, but it is my steady belief that the subject recovered. I expect - and indeed earnestly hope - that the citizens of our fair city will be hearing much more from this Mouchoir de Monsieur fellow. For, as that American pistolero said upon my departure, our town hasn't had this much fun and excitement in many a moon.
post #201 of 291
1/2/11 at 10:03pm
Thread Starter 
MDM's Riotous, feverish dream, revealed:

Well, you know, Dr. Perfumisto, I don't typically float about the drawing room, and you, why, you're not typically here either, are you? I'm ever so glad you've come, though. I can't imagine what I would have done without you. If nothing else I'm sure that pedistal suits you! Are you comfortable? May I offer you more cushions? Something for your hookah? Well, Dr. Perfumisto, I must say, if that is an axios sensor I'm afraid I've never seen one quite like it--why ever would a sensor have a tube attached to it in such a way? Who ever heard of smoking incense? It smells divine. Who am I? Why, Dr. I thought you knew. I'm not sure who I am to be quite honest. I do know this is my house, though I'm afraid I haven't the faintest clue who I am: I thought I was a man, but look here, who ever heard of a man sauntering about in a taupe bias cut crepe de chine gown? And this aquamarine silk velvet peignoir, these marabou feathers on the collar, and look! look at my hair! All cropped and crimped. Oh, and these chartreuse peau de soie pumps: Isn't the louis heel fetching? Get a load of my ankles, Dr, don't they look alluring? Oh, Dr. Perfumisto, stop it now-I told you: I don't know who I am, but I can assure you I also don't know any of the other people in here, either. You see how they observe, motionless and silent, most especially I'm sure I don't know that ruffian hiding behind the draperies over
there, see? Yes-that one. My sister, or...or my wife.......Yes, Dr. Perfumisto, of course, I couldn't have a wife, now, could I? I suppose she must be my sister then, whoever she is I do know her, but....Oh, she's upstairs asleep...in our bedroom. Sisters can share bedrooms, can't they Dr.? Well, yes, I know there are, but she prefers it that way. What does it matter, Dr.? We're here, now--these others....they were like pictures....on the wall....and suddenly they all began talking, sometimes all at once. I know it doesn't make any sense Dr., but it's true: Does it make any sense at all that I should be floating about this room, and look like this, when I tell you I'm a man! Oh, Please Dr. Perfumisto, I implore you, I don't know: All I know is when the portraits on the wall began to speak, each and every one, they started to descend! To descend I tell you! Can't you see all these empty frames on the wall? Yes! First they started chattering, and then they all floated down. No, not exactly as I'm floating now, It seemed more as if, having been eternally alone, I was suddenly hosting a tea, or a salon, you know, the way they do in Paris, with all of these guests! Well, Dr. Perfumisto, if nothing else, I knew who I was then. I knew well enough to have to throw one of them out; she was in that frame, over there. She seemed charming at first but then, as the afternoon progressed, she seemed somehow.....possessed by an evil spirit of some sort, very queer indeed, so I asked her to leave. No, of course I would never make such a request in front of others, I had a word with her in my office, there, on the other side of the hall......but, once she had gone, I did bolt the door. No, Dr. I don't think any of them noticed. She was an odd one, very quiet. Yes, of course Dr, but, you know, the Devil comes in many strange disguises; one never knows. There was an experiment. Well, we'd planned it. Oh, Dr! the picture people and I: We were all going to crack open a new 30ml bottle of Jicky Perfume and test it out! On New Year's Day! Well, I suppose you could be right, Dr, maybe that is why they all came down out of the pictures, I suspect that it wouldn't have been very much fun to do on my own--But Then, Oh, Dr! Then....the most terrible thing happened! Well, it all started when we peeled off the celophane: You know the new ones have celophane on them, and an outer box. Oh, it was horrible, Dr! Must I go on? ........ Very well. I'll give it my best. After all, you've been so very kind, and, I'm so grateful for all you've done. Well, you see, it went this way: We opened the box, and.....and.....Oh, Dr!.......I will, just give me a minute, will you? Inside the outer carton, where we had all fully expected to find the green celuose flocked inner ecrin style box with the gold gilt arabesque on, there was....there was instead....Oh! Dr! I'm going mad! I'm going mad I tell you! I can't go on...I can't! Alright. I'll pull myself together, you'll see. After all, the worst is yet to come, I shan't fall to pieces just yet. Rather than the green box we'd expected, we found a hideously common looking white one...and....it.....it.....didn't even have a hinge! I'm telling you Dr, I lost my senses: I was mad with rage. I threw it across the room! No, Dr, that isn't the worst of it. It was him! I mean that hooligan, cowering behind the draperies, I suppose in some kind of effort to calm me down, or for what reason I don't know, he showed me.....he......he. He showed me pornography, Dr.
I Tell you Dr, Pornography! Yes! Nothing has been quite right ever since, everything has gone queer, I just don't know what to do! I don't! Yes! There is something I'm not telling you. I just can't begin to say it. Alright. I'll tell you. At some point, I don't remember when, I don't know where I was, or how I did it.....I......I opened the flacon! Yes! You see it there? See how the ficelage is broken? No, Dr, he didn't steal it--you see him there passed out on cooking sherry--he's harmless: he was just playing with it and whistling at one point. I opened it, Dr, Yes! I did! I opened it!.........and...........and I........Oh, Good Lord above, I put some on and it.........it smells like lemon pledge....in a....in a bathroom! and in twenty minutes it's GONE! YES! it's GONE in twenty minutes! Oh, Dr! Help me! For the sake of humanity, do something! I don't know if I can go on: I don't know if I can LIVE!!!!!! I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVE!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
post #202 of 291
1/2/11 at 10:04pm
Thread Starter 
...
post #203 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:19pm
why what daylight ?
so darling you lost it about a fake ? we must investigate and call upon Sherlock maybe
for now hand me down the turquoise cashmere plaid and stay calm if you please. we shall find a way.
post #204 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:28pm
The light
(ong dong dee ah dong dieu)
Begin to bleed
(ong dong dee ah dong dieu)
Begin to breathe
(ong dong dee ah dong dieu)
Begin to speak
(ong dong dee ah dong dong dee ong dieu)
post #205 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:35pm
OH MY Gah.........!
What a catastrophe!!!!
You knew there was a chance I'd be stopping by and you put cooking sherry in the Cognac bottles???!!
Boy you really do have my number.
And oh yes. The JICKY.
The JICKY. That IS horrible!
post #206 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:37pm
[lmao]

telegram

from dr reedneck prefumistico
to basenotes county sheriff

attn - under treatment for nervous exhaustion due to recent stress

citizen mdm reports formula for jicky stolen - replaced with lemon pledge

do not repeat do not alert public at this time to avoid panic buying of

current formulation. Also something about pornography. Suspect that

perpetrator is known as dimitri dimi or sorcerer of scent (sp?) may be

accompanied by armed and dangerous yank and bathing cult members.

Details to follow when mdm recovers fully. Yours truly dr. P.
post #207 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:46pm
A rasping voice is heard gasping faintly from within the chamber--it's source unidentified, "The tonic... take the tonic!

Shalimar!

The Tonic... take the tonic... Drink it before it's too late... Jicky is gone... save yourse..."

Then silence.
post #208 of 291
1/2/11 at 11:56pm
MDM faints back on fainting couch and Dr. P turns to the others....

"If Jicky as been reformulated.... can any of us live?"



[the doctor pulls out his flask of Shalimar Ode a la Vanille and swallows a mouthful]

*stunned silence*
post #209 of 291
1/3/11 at 7:27am
Quote:
Originally Posted by Laureline View Post

why what daylight ?
so darling you lost it about a fake ? we must investigate and call upon Sherlock maybe
for now hand me down the turquoise cashmere plaid and stay calm if you please. we shall find a way.

On second thought, the idea that Jicky has been reformulated is utterly unbearable - even in play.

It's definitely a fake.

We must look on the bright side. At least Mouchoir de Monsieur was taken on a bottle of the great Jicky. My most momentous fake was a bottle of L'Eau par Kenzo Pour Homme. That's like getting fooled by fake Pampers, or a counterfeit left front fender of a Ford Focus. Fake Jicky! There is definitely something about Jicky, even when it's not Jicky.
post #210 of 291
1/3/11 at 8:25am
... and thus, the first installment of "The Reformulation of Jicky? - or The Rise and Fall (and subsequent revival) of Le Mouchoir de Monsieur, A One Act Absurdist Play in Three (or more) Acts" has ended... (more or less, for a quick brunch and tea perhaps)

With all the players more or less retaining what sanity they had.

Meanwhile, languid Luna has gone off (nay, flitted off, gracefully, moth-style) for a holiday in a warmer climate for a while, having had to exert herself a bit too much with all the drama from the Monsieur's fine rooms...
post #211 of 291
1/3/11 at 9:32am
.
.
.
.
.
f i n n





*film seizes, melts, and bubbles; smoke pours out of projector; tomatoes launch*
post #212 of 291
1/3/11 at 10:21am
Thread Starter 
Credits: 30ml Jicky Parfum, 1 of 8 purchased, courtesy of GUERLAIN BOUTIQUE
(not e-bay/mohammed perfume and camera seller/guerilla parfumerie in bad hood--so--brace yourselves--it's NOT a fake)
post #213 of 291
1/3/11 at 10:41am
quoi non j'y crois pas excuse my French !
post #214 of 291
1/3/11 at 10:49am
Thread Starter 
MESSAGE FROM ABOVE: PLEASE MONITORS DO NOT SHUT US DOWN NOR ERASE OUR THREAD. WE CAN NOT FINISH THIS BEFORE M de M WAKES UP. WE BEG FORGIVENESS FOR BEING RENEGADES.
post #215 of 291
1/3/11 at 10:55am
Thread Starter 
FURTHER MESSAGE FROM ABOVE: (whole chorus of voices now) PLEASE, GOOD MONITORS!!!!!! DO NOT SHUT US DOWN!!!!! HAVE MERCY AND BE CLEMENT UPON US!!!!! IF WE ARE SHUT DOWN OUR LEADER WILL BE FOREVER LOST!!!!!! FOREVER!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS ONLY THE END OF ACT ONE!!!!!!!!!
post #216 of 291
1/3/11 at 4:59pm
*** up in the balcony... ***

"Goodness. I think I should like to borrow that fainting couch for myself."

"Indeed. My, my. I must admit that I'm at something of a loss for words."

"Myself as well. However, from the sound of it, this is just an intermission."

"REALLY. You don't say."

"I'm quite sure of it, actually."

"Well. We need to think about this. If we're quick on our feet, we can still get to the opening of Springtime for Hitler."

"I take it you mean The Producers?"

"As you say. The one with the rotating swastika dancers. Dreadfully tacky and inappropriate, but that one doesn't have so many.... What do you call them?"

"Drama queens?"

"Yes. Those."

"But certainly Mel Brooks and his troupe were all drama queens, don't you think?"

"True, but the man wasn't..... well, at least I don't THINK he was one of these perfume dandies."

"Probably not. However, that one has a drag queen."

"And this one doesn't?"

"Point taken. But this one also has some rather unusual characters in support roles. And you never know who's going to show up in Act II, now, do you?"

"True. Things could get interesting."

"Then should we stay?"

"Let's. However, would you be a dear and get me some whiskey? Either that or hashish of some kind. It seems that this troupe is somewhat making it up as they go along. I need to slow down my brain so they can catch up."

"Love - you read my mind."
post #217 of 291
1/3/11 at 5:43pm
Thread Starter 
Entre'acte/intermission features instramental version of Peter Gabriel's "INTRUDER," suggesting arrival of unsuspected, and not necessarily welcome, guest at the Town House of Monsieur. "Jicky Green" velvet curtain with guilt arabesques and fringes clearly displays dramatic shadow cast of yawning alter, atop which the lain out body of Monsieur, obviously breathing, still wearing final costume change, marabout-trimmed-peignoir and gown, which is entirely cut on the bias and clings languidly to his breast. Many Gentlemen in audience seen fanning and attempting to revive their wives having fallen into a swoon, Other ladies seen trying to wake up their husbands having fallen asleep, young couples seen madly necking with their eyes closed. Instramental version of "Intruder" prolongs and segues into.........
post #218 of 291
1/3/11 at 5:53pm
...Luna says from the wings... "with a kiss I pass the key"...

post #219 of 291
1/3/11 at 6:06pm
... and a fog rolls out over the re-entering audience... a fog that with a scent of... Shalimar...
post #220 of 291
1/3/11 at 6:13pm
Thread Starter 
You, and I...............and Rosabel, believe.
post #221 of 291
1/3/11 at 7:27pm
...the lights go down... and the audience murmurs in anticipation...
post #222 of 291
1/4/11 at 4:04pm
...and, as time has apparently folded upon itself for some of the audience (particularly the smoky balcony)...

...a scrim of a dark translucent fabric slowly descends in front of our unconscious, or sleeping?... Mdm...

... and a young boy on a unicycle rides slowly across the stage, expertly juggling five jewel-shaped and gleaming miniature perfume flacons filled with gold liquid, off which the spotlight glints and further mesmerises the audience...

The boy executes a figure-eight, still juggling, and exits...
post #223 of 291
1/4/11 at 5:22pm
If I weren't Suspended in Gaffa, I'd Be Running Up that Hill, but The Night Doesn't Like It so Get out of My House!!!!!!
post #224 of 291
1/4/11 at 5:29pm
...while The Miracle Mind, Guru of the Olfactory Mysteries, enters stage left and continues to chant somewhat ...esoterically ... and ...

(cue up)...

post #225 of 291
1/4/11 at 5:42pm
... and the sound of deep breathing fills the auditorium, with another fog rolling out from the stage, this one carrying the scent of tobacco and incense...

...the audience breathes as one... and waits... as the robed Miracle Mind exits the stage and the lights go down again...
post #226 of 291
1/4/11 at 5:52pm
...after an interval of near pitch black... a small flame erupts center-stage in front of the dark scrim...

And from the wings... the voice of Laureline is heard... "perfume is poetry... Perfume is sensual...mmmm...Yes!"

And ...(cue up)...

post #227 of 291
1/4/11 at 6:13pm
... and then... a thick fog rolls off the stage, backlit by the flame still burning center stage...

Little lights flicker through the fog and as they go out, they release... labdanum... here...
... iris... there... benzoin ... over there... jasmine... in the center of the auditorium... imortelle... in the balcony...

... and the audience breathes... and waits...

...dark figures enter stage left and right, behind the scrim... and sit near the quiet form of MDM... barely visible to the audience.

...we wait.
post #228 of 291
1/4/11 at 6:43pm
  • kbe
  • offline
  • Gender:
Enter three Basenoters.

FIRST BASENOTER. When shall we three meet again?
In Jickey, Kouros, or in some yet to be named accursed Creed?
SECOND BASENOTER. When the spritzing is done,
When the drydown is lost and won.
THIRD BASENOTER. That will be ere the fade of the Middle Notes.
FIRST BASENOTER. Where to place the chosen scent?
SECOND BASENOTER. Upon the Off Topic Board. Yes!.
THIRD BASENOTER. There to meet with MdM.
FIRST BASENOTER. I come, but, alas, bearing malodorous vapors.
ALL. Hark! The For Sale Thread calls. Anon!
Fair smells, foul smells
Hover through sillaged air. Exeunt...
post #229 of 291
1/4/11 at 7:17pm
...and in the Théâtre de la Rive Gauche... two white doves fly from the balcony and alight in a basket on the stage...
post #230 of 291
1/4/11 at 7:32pm
...a candle floats over the audience... then two... then three... they disappear...

and....

(cue up)



...and the theatre goes dark. The audience gasps... and waits....
post #231 of 291
1/4/11 at 7:47pm
  • kbe
  • offline
  • Gender:
::seated center, row 5, Orchestra::

FOPPISHLY DRESSED SEAT-NEIGHBOR TO KBE (who is busy groping inside his bib overalls for a slingshot, never missing an opportunity to down a dove or two in the failing candle light): "My God man! What IS that disastrous scent you dipped in?

In turn now like the breath of death itself I smell it! ..tell me it is NOT that wretched 'Reintarnation' by Merry Thugler...or I shall exeunt forthwith myself, aisle left. Melanie or no!"

FROM A ROW BEHIND, MdM BROADCASTS AN ADMONITION: "SHHHHHH!!!!!"
post #232 of 291
1/4/11 at 7:57pm
While kbe's companion, fashionably attired in matching "dress black" Carhartt's and a fetching straw bowler with black canvas band mutters sotto voce... "good god man, doesn't that fool recognize CBIHP's "Newmown Hay After a Traipse Through the Milking Stalls?"...
post #233 of 291
1/4/11 at 7:58pm
...said companion adjusts the white linen band collar shirt and "ahems"... and all goes black again, momentarily...
post #234 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:16pm
... a bass note thrums... slowly... quicker... quicker...

The scent of Opium and ... opium... spreads across the audience...

(cue up)

post #235 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:36pm
...and a woman in a ragged tutu dances across the stage... staggers... and falls to the stage, apparently asleep at the edge...

The flame at center stage still burns....

(cue up)



And the theatre goes black. Slowly, Monsieur's drawing room, faintly... appears... projected against a dark green curtain...
post #236 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:40pm
Thread Starter 
The Dream.....Continues, in strict voice over, our stage set is now a mass of swirling smoke and lights, MdeM's Sepia/aqua-tint/late 20's drawing room is erased, as is MdeM himself, when "Jicky Green" Curtain finally lifts, to unveil a kind of reigning abstraction, all smoke, and lights, with no precision whatsoever, save for the voice of MdeM, still tinged with the inexplicable late 20's lilt of a female screen siren, now echoing slightly, and coming from nowhere in particular on the stage. Amidst distant hissing and the faint sounds of water dripping, the lone voice of MdM echos on: This particular diatribe starts quite loudly, and, very slowly loses its volume, until barely audible:

Doctor? Well, you know, I have just screamed: Hadn't you noticed? I would have stamped my feet if I could have, though I'm afraid I would be merely stamping air, which would have no effect at all, would it? Doctor! What must I do for you to administer a drug? Surely you see I'm in need. Why, I'm in a frank fit of hysterics; can't you see? What do you mean for no reason? How could you say such a thing? Weren't you listening earlier? Were you not paying attention? A perfectly good bottle, freshly extracted from a Guerlain Boutique, one of eight, mind you, has been opened to find its' packaging redesigned in the most perfectly plebian fashion and, though its' flacon seems unchanged the fragrance itself seems to have evaporated right out of its own juice! Does that situation not sound worthy of a fit of hysteria? I tell you Doctor: I must ask you to administer something to me in the immediate. Why, however you see fit, Doctor, and could you see to it that whatever it is you chose to give me allows that I regain my footing, and my beard, and perhaps, my suit of clothes? I've had quite enough of floating about in this getup--The marabout feathers won't fail to fall upon my tongue; this smooth porcelain cheek, this bobbed hair, these mules, not to mention my voice: None of this makes any sense whatsoever. Well, Doctor, I suppose it has to do with my bottle of Jicky: It must! Why, It certainly seems to be floating about in a body and in clothes not its own. I told you! Where, before it was perfectly divine, It is now reminiscent of the odor one would expect were a kind of lemon scented cleaner used to scrub out a public loo, which itself has since seen a few visits, and not just of the more dainty, delicate kind. Confound you! You should know why that's important, and worthy of such a display of hysterics and confusion! You're the Doctor! Do you think I've chosen to find myself locked into the body of an erzats Norma Schearer? Furthermore I seem to have flown away from my home, I haven't the faintest clue where I am now, everything has gone all dark and full of smoke: I'm in a bad way Doctor, I'm in a bad way! Clearly I could use a nervine, or a tonic? You know....a drug? I told you! However you see fit to administer it! By inhalation--Give me a pill--an injection--an intravenous drip! Well I don't know why you wouldn't? This all started innocently enough, everything was going swimmingly, and now look at this state of affairs! The one that has me floating about in a woman's body! And all this smoke--and darkness--my home--all of those people--where have they all gone? And my Jicky! Oh! Doctor! My Jicky....And to think I kept only one 30ml flacon unopened by precaution before i broke into the new vintage! Do you realize that as of now a mere one ounce of perfume must last me for the rest of my life? Hmmm? One Ounce, Doctor? One Ounce is a two month affair! Not that of a lifetime! Oh! I'm becoming again mad with rage! I can feel it coming on! Doctor! Get me out of here!!!!! Maybe this is all a dream? That's it! could I wake up and find that I have dreamed this entire plot? DOCTOR!!!!!! DOOOOOOOO SOMETHINNNNNGG!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! ahhhhh! I'm raving now, can't you see? I'm raving....and I shan't stop....No! I Shan't! They'll hear from me! Those people! and that MONSTER! yes, him! the one with the......the.....PORNOGRAPHY!!!! All of this is a dream! it has to be! Someone DO SOMETHING!!!! Doctor! Give me a drug! Go on! have you way with me, now! Dooooo ittt t t t t t t t t t t ! ! ! ! !
post #237 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:45pm
Thread Starter 
In ensuing dead silence--the audience puzzles--hearing the familiar voice of Luna whispering urgently: REDNECK!!! REDNECK WHERE ARE YOU???? Lau--FIND REDNECK!!! THIS IS HIS CUE. (then that of Lau: "Sssshhhhhhh!!!!! on t'entend!")
post #238 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:47pm
Thread Starter 
Audience starts whispering to each other--the word "Redneck" is heard over and over in their tumult......
post #239 of 291
1/4/11 at 8:58pm
...and the phrases Doctor Perfumisto... Doctor Perfumistico... Doctor Redneck Perfumisto... can also be heard...
post #240 of 291
1/4/11 at 9:09pm
....slowly....
....gently....
....a high-pitched sound becomes known behind the murmurs....
....the murmurs stop as people try to comprehend what is going on....
....at first it seems like something has gone wrong with the sound system....
....soon, it becomes apparent that Act II is about to start in a most unorthodox way....
....the sound becomes louder and louder, until it is clear that it is the human voice....
....voices....
....female voices singing.....
....beautifully....
....harmoniously....
....louder....
....and LOUDER....
....and LAUder.....
....the soprano voices, harmonious to the point of vibrating the seats, become deafening.....
....and then they stop.

SILENCE
New Posts  All Forums:Forum Nav:
  Return Home
This thread is locked