Cat's Pajamas (12 page)

Edgar feigns a look of horror and abruptly gestures toward the empty space behind Albert.

EDGAR: Albert, look out! Behind you!

Albert drops his coffee and spins around to face the nonexistent menace. Taking advantage of Albert's confusion, Edgar wrests the vase from his grasp, then retreats behind the casket. When Albert rushes toward Edgar, he raises the vase high above his head.

EDGAR:
(cont'd)
Don't move! I can be merciless with Ming!

ALBERT: YOU creeping piece of crud!

EDGAR: One more step, and all the king's horses and all the king's men…

Cindy strides into the studio and plants herself near the front edge of the set, presumably between camera one and camera two.

CINDY: Twenty seconds, Mr. West. We're bringing you up on camera one.

EDGAR:
(to Albert)
Here's the deal. Go to the control room and tell Arthur that for the next two hours he has to broadcast
everything
I say! Each time camera one goes dark, I want to see the tally on two start glowing like Boris Karloff in
The Invisible Ray!
The minute anybody cuts me off, your precious little cuspidor gets shattered in front of a million loyal Sarcophiles!

ALBERT: This is blackmail.

EDGAR: This is live television.

CINDY: Five seconds, Mr. West. Four, three, two…

Albert, defeated, throws up his hands and stalks off, headed for the control room. Ruth steps out of camera range but remains on the studio floor. As the discordant THEME MUSIC for Frisson Theater pours from the speakers, Edgar places the porcelain vase in the embrace of Erik the Orangutan. Edgar assumes a dignified posture and stares into camera one.

NARRATOR:
(off-stage)
Chilling tales of the supernatural and the paranormal! Horrifying yarns drawn from the archives of the Frankenstein family and the annals of the Dracula clan! Channel 56 is proud to present
Frisson Theater—
with your host, Dr. Sarcophagus!

Cindy points to Edgar, cueing him to begin his shtick.

EDGAR:
(to camera)
Welcome, Sarcophiles! This afternoon we bring you the fourth and final entry in the Kharis quartet from Universal Pictures—yes, you guessed it,
The Mummy's Curse!

He pulls out a sealed envelope from his pocket.

EDGAR:
(cont'd)
But right now I want to tell you the results of our First Annual
Frisson Theater
Scenery Chewing Contest. Over two thousand viewers mailed in ballots, up five hundred from last year's Name Dr. Sarcophagus's Pet Armadillo Competition.
(reads back of envelope)
The nominees for Scenery Chewer of the Century are Charles Laughton in
The Island of Lost Souls,
George Zucco in
Dead Men Walk,
Peter Lorre in
The Beast With Five Fingers,
and Bela Lugosi in
The Raven.
And the winner is…
(opens envelope, draws out paper)
Bela Lugosi in
The Raven!
“Poe, you are avenged!”

Leaning into the casket, Edgar retrieves a bottle of catsup and a plastic potted fern.

EDGAR:
(cont'd)
And here's Bela's prize—a genuine piece of edible scenery, equally delicious with catsup or mustard.

He slops catsup on the fern, then takes a bite, chewing with hammy delight.

EDGAR:
(cont'd)
Hmmm, hmmm, good! The next time I see that hungry Hungarian, I'll be sure to give him his trophy.

Returning the fern and the catsup to the casket, Edgar retrieves the vase from Erik the Orangutan.

EDGAR:
(cont'd)
And now it's time to play Guess the Title of Next Week's Movie. Your clue is this porcelain vase from seventeenth century China. Go ahead, shout out your ideas, I can hear 'em all, my hearing-aid is turned up full, (cups left ear) What's that, Tony Cochantropolis of Mount Airy? You think it might be
Charlie Chan in Transylvania?
Nope, sorry.
(cups right ear)
Ah-hah! Right you are, Lucy Wintergreen of Manayunk—next week's movie is
The Mask of Fu Manchu. (tosses the vase, catches it)
And now I have an important issue to discuss with Sarcophiles everywhere. It seems that the High Priests of Karnak no longer believe in
Frisson Theater.
Starting next week, they intend to fill this slot with NCAA basketball. Can you
imagine?
NCAA—No Creatures At All. So here's my idea. During the next twenty minutes, instead of watching
The Mummy's Curse,
let the powers-that-be know that monster movies aren't simply escapist trash—they're escapist trash that
matters.
Send telegrams, call the station, or visit us here at 1600 City Line Avenue. But you must act immediately, or there'll be the Devil to pay! (glances off-stage) Okay, Ivan-roll the flick!

As the famous 1940's Universal fanfare fills the air, the
Frisson Theater
set goes dark, and the spotlight again falls stage left. Tom Moody continues to interview the aging Edgar.

TOM: The fans really rose to the occasion, didn't they?

EDGAR: Six hundred telegrams. Three hundred phone calls—and heaven knows how many viewers couldn't get through. But the big surprise was the legions of Sarcophiles who showed up at the station, even though it was the dead of winter. During act two of
The Mummy's Curse,
Albert Meinster agreed to meet with them.

The spotlight fades, and once again a high-key glow illuminates the Frisson Theater set. Cindy stands at her post between camera one and camera two. Still gripping the porcelain vase, Edgar paces behind the casket, waiting for the next break in the broadcast of The Mummy's Curse. Ruth fidgets near Erik the Orangutan.

Having descended from the control booth, Albert stands just out of camera range, facing three of Edgar's most devoted fans. The first to speak is MARGE TURNER, a plump middle-aged mother. She marches up to Albert and looks him in the eye.

MARGE: I would've brought my boy Willy along, but he's away at college. What you have to understand, Mr. Meinster, is that Willy was just about the most pathetic case that ever went to Glenside Junior High School. No friends. Didn't fit in. Other kids always picking on him.

She turns and faces the audience, so that she seems to be speaking to the whole world.

MARGE:
(cont'd)
But then Willy got interested in
Frisson Theater,
and sometimes I watched it with him, which is how I became hooked, and we really liked the way Dr. Sarcophagus would talk about the Frankenstein Monster.
(points toward dungeon set)
That man you got over there, Edgar West, he has a
gift.
He explained to the fans that the Monster never
asked
to be the way he is, all clumsy and ugly, it wasn't his
fault,
and the
real
problem is narrow-minded villagers who think they have to reject anybody who doesn't wear lederhosen and carry a shillelagh. Well, that took a big load off Willy's shoulders, and eventually he started to relax, and by the time he got to high school he wasn't totally miserable anymore, just unhappy like most kids.

Marge backs away. Next to approach Albert is JAKE GINSBERG, age twenty-three, poised, confident, amiable.

JAKE: (points to Marge) I guess I was a lot like that woman's kid, you know, an outcast, and to top it off all these
changes
were happening to me. I was starting to notice girls, and my complexion was worse than a pineapple's, and I had so many braces my smile looked like the grille of a '59 Chevy Impala.

He turns and faces the audience.

JAKE:
(cont'd)
But every Saturday afternoon I'd watch
Frisson Theater.
It was kind of my duty, since I was president of the Sarcophiles, Germantown Chapter. Mr. West really understood what we were going through. He told us how teenagers often feel like the Wolf Man—you know, our bodies out of control, spouting hair and everything, but he said we just had to
hang in there,
the way Larry Talbot does in
House of Dracula,
and if you remember that movie, Mr. Meinster, you know that the werewolf gets
cured
in the end.

ALBERT:
(to Jake)
If it's about a werewolf, why is it called
House of Dracula?

Jake, exasperated, rolls his eyes and steps away. LOU SPINELLI, a bewildered fifty-year-old with a Tor Johnson physique, marches up to Albert.

LOU: My wife is working down at the truck stop now, or she would've come along too, 'cause this is about her as well as me. You see, Mr. Meinster, when I decided to marry Alice I knew she had a couple of pretty serious addictions—rather like poor old Bela Lugosi—but I thought everything would turn out all right if I just loved her enough. Pretty stupid, huh?

He turns and faces the audience.

LOU:
(cont'd)
Anyway, one day the police show up, and they take Alice away, and they tell the judge she's a
dealer,
which is a lousy lie, so after Alice goes through rehab she has to spend seven years in Wyncote Penitentiary,
seven years,
and I take to relieving my stress by watching
Frisson Theater.
Half of me wants to back out of the marriage and start playing the field, but old Doc Sarcophagus, he's always showing his Mummy movies, and he keeps reminding the fans how Kharis really knew the meaning of faithfulness. That loyalty idea, well, it kinda struck a chord with me, and I said to myself, “Heck, Lou, if Kharis can stay true to the Princess Ananka for something like three thousand years, you can certainly stand by Alice for seven.”

Lou backs away from Albert. Cindy gestures Ruth off the set, then signals for Edgar to face camera one.

CINDY: Mr. West, we're up on camera one. Ten, nine, eight…

To amuse himself, Edgar starts tossing the vase in the air and catching it. Albert nearly has a heart attack. He takes two steps toward the set.

EDGAR: Humpty-Dumpty sat on the wall…

Albert stops abruptly, groans.

CINDY: Three, two…

She cues Edgar to begin.

EDGAR:
(to camera)
Hello again, boys and ghouls, crazies and gentlemen. We've had a
very
eventful afternoon here at Channel 56, and I want to thank all of you who sent telegrams, made phone calls, and darkened our door. Unfortunately, it's too early to tell whether our hidebound station manager has seen the light.
(flourishes vase)
You know, this Ming vase reminds me of an exciting offer available exclusively to all Sarcophiles. Just last week the station acquired a limited quantity of
authentic Egyptian entrail containers.
For only ten dollars you can get a canopic jar big enough to hold a large intestine, or colon, and for five dollars we'll send you one that's perfect for a small intestine, or semicolon.
(beat)
And now—the exciting climax of
The Mummy's Curse! (glances offstage)
Roll it, Ivan!

As before, the
Frisson Theater
set goes dark, and the spotlight falls stage left on Tom Moody and the elderly Edgar.

TOM:
(awestruck)
You saved that man's marriage. You helped all those kids cope with adolescence.

EDGAR: And I gave the Sarcophiles two hours of pleasure every Saturday afternoon—that's what I'm
really
proud of.

TOM: And yet Albert Meinster still wanted to cancel the show.

EDGAR: Those endorsements went right over his head. But you know, Tom, I
did
get through to the person who mattered most…

As the spotlight fades, the familiar glow bathes the
Frisson Theater
set. The three witnesses are gone. Cindy stands at her post. Albert stalks around the studio.

Ruth rushes toward Edgar, arms outstretched. Edgar balances the vase on the casket lid and receives Ruth's embrace.

RUTH: Oh, Edgar, I had no idea anybody was actually
listening
to all that Mister Rogers stuff you've been doling out.

ALBERT:
(singing sarcastically)
It's a beautiful day in the netherworld…

CINDY: Mr. West, when the show's over, could I have one of those autographed photos you like to give your fans?

EDGAR:
(to Cindy)
Sure thing.

Edgar and Ruth relax their embrace.

ALBERT:
(indicating Edgar)
The Role Model from the Black Lagoon.

Suddenly Albert springs onto the set and swoops the vase off the casket lid.

ALBERT:
(cont'd)
Ah-hah!

Albert turns, lurches forward, and presses the vase into Cindy's grasp.

ALBERT:
(cont'd)
Hide it some place where a washed-up horror host would never think to look. Do the job right, and I'll give you a raise.

Vase in hand, Cindy rips off her headset, drops it on the floor, and makes an abrupt exit.

RUTH:
(to Edgar)
Surely you were moved by all those testimonials.

ALBERT: Beat the bushes hard enough, you'll find somebody who'll say the Three Stooges saved him from a life of crime.

RUTH: The Three Stooges maybe. Basketball never.

ALBERT: I just did the math. The NCAA broadcasts will double our revenue.

RUTH: I just did the math too. The chances of my having dinner with you tonight are one in seven hundred and thirty-eight thousand.
(to Edgar)
Even if you didn't save
Frisson Theater,
today's efforts were not in vain.

EDGAR: My canopic jar runneth over.

RUTH: Kharis and Ananka—now and forever!

EDGAR: Now and forever!

ALBERT:
(to Ruth)
Piffle. Leaving this lunatic was the smartest thing you ever did.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the air vibrates with an unearthly WHIRRING, and an incandescent figure materializes stage right.

RUTH: Jeez!

EDGAR: Whoa!

We have just witnessed the arrival of PYTER PERIPHRASTIC, a judgmental but enlightened alien. Pyter wears a luminous silver jumpsuit featuring a high art-deco collar and, wrapped around his brow, a Ninja headband. He carries a Flash Gordon-style ray gun.