Laureline, showing off the unusual step and lithe winsome ways in which her every movement seems cast, turns to approach the closed door under the stair case, into which MDM and Nigel have discretely slipped, with the diminutive yet forceful Nigel gently closing it behind him: MDM's private study. She stands in front of it for a prolonged moment, then turns away, walking toward the front doors of the residence, to let herself out, the sound is heard of her gently closing the enormous bronze and glass gate behind her. There is a plaque on the door underneath the swooping stair, previously of brushed nickel with the word "PRIVE" engraved upon it in elongated, deco-inspired font. Barely noticed by spectators, it is now of burnished brass, framed in an ornate, sculpted garland of wheat-like flowers, baring the same word, in gothic script "old english" style font, written in Flemish. The confusing, erratic state of the set, all stunned players, some in a frank state of delirium, shifting, oddly cast lights streaming through the high windows, and jumbled music, a kind of radio static, seemingly many songs of various styles playing simultaneously, seems to dim slowly, as a series of scrims drops, one after the other, achieving a kind of slow burn haze that eventually erases the scene entirely, leaving a kind of smoky abstraction to be viewed by the audience. The music becoming barely audible, morphs into a soft, poignant violin concerto, and a spot appears upon the scrims, showing MDM and Nigel seated face to face, both characters clearly obvious in silhouette due to the extreme difference apparent in their height. (Many have been those who have suggested that MDM takes such exquisite care of Nigel, and pays him so generously, soley because he, along with his willingness to put up with the impetuousness of Monsieur, manifests such a distinctly petite frame, which, seen alongside Monsieur's inhumanly elongated one, "Makes MDM look taller.") The following conversation is heard to be exchanged between these two, intimate friends: (Many also have been those that have secretly discussed the exact nature of this partnership, which, to the amazement of all and sundry, seems unbreakable, in spite of MDM's recurrent fits of frenzy. Nigel, being very like MDM in comportment, but not in size, is forever witnessed, both publicly and privately, tenderly attentive to Monsieur's every whim. It is a well kept secret that Monsieur, who many view as physically untouchable, melts, and becomes frankly affectionate, when those few and far between, male or female, dare to lay the slightest touch upon him. Inherently aware of this, Nigel, having sat Monsieur down in one of the pair of "Chauffeuse" type chairs facing his desk, and seated himself in the other, is seen in silhouette to get up, and standing behind the towering shoulders of Monsieur, begin to massage the back of his neck, the base of his ears, and at one point, appears to bend down and plant a kiss upon one of them. This scene, which takes place without dialogue, proceeds with the following exchange of words clearly broadcast to the audience, atop the very faint sound of delicate violins:
Shhhhhhhhhhh. Calm yourself, now. There's a good fellow. Shhhhhhhhhhhh. Everything is going to be fine. I say, old man, why ever do you put yourself in such a state? You know we all love you now, don't you? Well. You know your Nigel Loves you, Sir, and nothing would ever take me away from you. You hear that, Sir? Nothing. Why, you could put me in chains and lock me in the cave and I'd patiently wait for you to release me, loving you all the while, I would. Of course I'd be in good company with all that wine, wouldn't I? Shhhhhhhhhh. There we are. (another soft kiss on the ear) Now come to your senses. I won't leave you: For nothing in the world will I leave you, do you hear? In fact, I've the key to this room somewhere upon me, and I've locked it from the inside. So you see, Sir, you won't be leaving me either, now, will you?
Neither of us will leave it until you can get hold of your passions. There's a good old man. Quiet now. Breathe. Just calm yourself.......
Ah, now there's an idea! here we are, see now, see how lovely this is--let me just pour you a nice bit of tonic.
The sounds of emery stoppered crystal decanters are heard to be uncorked, and that of a liquid being poured into a glass
Here you go, Sir, a Flower Bomb: Just what the Doctor ordered--just one drop of Shalimar--Drink, Sir. There's a dear.
[I]Nigel is seen to change position, seating himself in the chair opposite MDM.
Now, Give me your feet. Up here. Come on now. (tap tap)
MDM lifts his mile long legs, with their distinctive size 48 Johnny booted-feet, and places them on Nigel's lap. Nigel begins unzipping and pulling off boots, and then peeling off socks. He then begins diligently to rub each of MDM's bare feet with his hands, which seem doll-like in comparison to MDM's enormous, boat-like feet.
Alright then. You're going to be just fine, Sir. If your Nigel has anything to do with it, Sir, you're going to be fit as whistle in no time, you are. There's a good old man: Just breathe, and let your own Nigel take care of you.
That's right, Sir. Remember: Your Nigel will never leave you. For nothing in the world, do you hear? Nothing could take me from you. Nothing at all, Sir.
Would you like another Flower Bomb, Sir?
Good enough. Everything will be fine. And we can stay in here all night, we can, Luna's outside, you know, and she can take care of everything. She has her keys, and, you know, I've left her guest room unlocked, changed the sheets, left her favourite Guerlain soaps--what are they called now, Sir?
Savon du (Hiccup) Jeune Age.
That's right. Luna will take care of what's outside that door. And your Nigel will take care of what's inside this door: Including unlocking it, Sir, and believe you me, Old Man, nothing will get the key into that lock except a refreshed and revived MDM. How are you now, Sir? feeling better?
I know, Sir. Things are sometimes not as easy as they first appear, aren't they now? But trust in me, Sir: Remember. Your own Nigel here on the inside, and Our Luna on the outside. Everything is going to be fine. Here now. Give me your other foot.
Ni, I simply can't come to terms with all this.
Yes you can, Sir, and you're going to. You'll see: I give you 10 minutes and you'll be just dandy, you will. Just dandy.
But Ni it all seemed so easy, you know, and innocent. And now there's Lau, she's haunting me Ni. She's haunting me.
I know she is, Sir. To be honest, I'd be willing to bet you're not the only one she's haunting. Why, Doctor Perfumistico seems to have some odd ideas about her as well. Somewhat shocking ones, actually.
Of course he does. What man living wouldn't.
Well, Lau's quite the Temptress! Why, even I....well, what I mean is, I believe that Lau has eyes only for you, Sir. I can feel it, I can. The way she looks at you. I've seen many women sizing you up Sir, but none with eyes like that.
Is that so, Ni?
Why yes it is, Sir. Yes it is. When Lau looks up at you, she sparkles.
But Ni, she sparkles all the time.
It's because, you see, when you look at her, Sir, she's looking back at you. Don't you see that, Old Man?
And what do you make of that....that roue Aussie....coming in here uninvited, after nearly taking my life with his....his wanton ways?
Well, now, Old Man, I'm sure he's a good egg. Greek, you know. As Orthodox as they come.
You think so, Ni?
I couldn't say for sure, but Luna told me his name is Dimi.
I thought it was Jimmy.
One and the same, Sir, but, it's Dimi. And, you know, one isn't called Dimi without baring the name Dimitri, and then I furthermore seem to recall something he was saying at one point about being on a ship, and drinking Kouros deodorant.
Ni? Kouros deodorant? Why ever would one drink Kouros deodorant? I should think that would be a vile drink if ever there was one.
I'm sure it was Sir, but, you see, he framed the gesture in a predicament.
He said he was ship bound, with the Greek Army, and they were rationed of fresh water.
You don't say?
I do, Sir. Now. Now see here, Sir: How can this fellow be as bad as all that? Aussie's don't serve in the Greek Military, now, do they Sir?
Well, Ni, you might have a point. If he's Greek, I reckon I shouldn't be so hard on him. Do you think he's got designs on Lau?
Not a bit of it, Sir. Why, he'd sooner have designs on you, Old man, if I were to make an educated guess. You, if anybody, Sir, know how strapping young Greeks can be, don't you, now, Sir?
I suppose you're right, Ni. Though, only about the nature of Greeks. I can't imagine that one would be inclined to be so interested in me! Did you see how tan and fit he is? Why ever would some one like him be eyeing a mile high marble white skeleton dipped in wax such as me?
You under estimate your capacities Sir. You see how the Ladies all fawn on you where ever you go?
Is that so, Ni?
Indeed it is, Old man: Why, my MDM leaves a trail of corpses wherever he wanders. How many years have I been witness to this now, Sir?
It's only because they're afraid, Ni.
You'd be surprised, you old bugger! Why--look at Lau: She could have anyone she wants, yet here she is, all a-twinkle before you.
At any rate, I don't require the attentions of anyone as long as I have you, dear, devoted Ni. But, you know, for that which concerns having anyone one wants, I suspect the same could be said about Jimmy, couldn't it, Ni?
It's Dimi, Sir.
With that Nigel is seen to bow his head to place a tiny peck of a kiss upon the tip of MDM's right toe, and the lights go out.
The violin concerto fades.