Oi! Oi! Tryouts for "Bride and Flatulence" (and all the other student directed plays and student written shows) are this Tuesday and Wednesday, 6:30pm, Hillsdale College Black Box. Here, a little bit of "Bride" for you.

BRIDE AND FLATULENCE:?A Short Play With Music By Eden Casteel

SCENE ONE: THE BALL

EMMABETH FAIRFAX, 18, headstrong and prejudiced

MARYJANE FAIRFAX, 20, deliberate and sensible

FITZWALTER DARBY, 24, taciturn and really really rich (he shows up later)

A Regency era ballroom, suggested by several elegant chairs and perhaps some potted greenery. Beautiful young sisters Emmabeth and Maryjane Fairfax sit on chairs side by side, drinking punch from glass or ceramic teacups. Minuet music plays in the background during the scene.

MARYJANE: Emmabeth, you look like you are ready to shout to the sky. Whatever is the matter?

EMMABETH: I have just been humiliated by Mr. Darby.

MARYJANE: You mean, the wealthy Mr. Darby of PennybrookEstate?

EMMABETH: No, the rude Mr. Darby at the other end of the hall. But I suspect they are one and the same.

MARYJANE: Are you certain it was a calculated effort to hurt you?

EMMABETH: I happened to find Mr. Darby standing next to me, so I asked the gentleman if he cared to dance, and he immediately said, ?No.? I innocently asked him ?why?? and he replied, ?Find a looking glass.? The impudence!

MARYJANE: That is rather rude. Even for a rich man.

EMMABETH: Ten thousand a year can?t purchase good manners.

MARYJANE looks across the room: He does not seem arrogant now. In fact, he seems rather strained.

EMMABETH: Yes, is very tiring to appear to be suffering the happiness of the lower class as they dance in front of you.

MARYJANE: Your tongue rivals the punch for tartness, my sister. Emmabeth smiles at her Good heavens, Emmabeth!

EMMABETH: What is it?

MARYJANE: Your teeth!

EMMABETH: What is wrong?

MARYJANE: Did you partake of the spinach tartlets at the buffet?

EMMABETH: Yes, they were delicious. I had three of them.

MARYJANE: I can see that!

EMMABETH: How?

MARYJANE: They have stuck to your teeth! You have green lines of spinach between your teeth!

EMMABETH: Horrors! Help me rid myself of them! Maryjane surreptitiously helps Emmabeth scrub out her mouth with a napkin and some gulps of punch. Emmabeth sits, demoralized

EMMABETH: Do you suppose . . .

MARYJANE: That Mr. Darby was gently trying to spare you further embarrassment when he suggested you find a looking glass? Yes, that would be a logical and charitable explanation of his behavior.

EMMABETH: I am still put out. Mr. Darby should know better than to offer a food that would leave his guests open to ridicule.

MARYJANE: The fault lies in the spinach, not in the man.

EMMABETH: I condemn the menu and the man who approved it!

To the tune of ?Now Is The Month Of Maying?

EMMABETH: The spinach tart has shamed me, yet Mr. Darby blamed me!?Fa la la la, fa la la la.?Why should he take offense? My anger is intense.?Fa la la la la. . . .

MARYJANE:?His observations dental were delicate and gentle,?Fa la la , fa la la.?You could choose to abhor it, or simply to ignore it,?Fa la la la, fa la la.

MARYJANE: The crisis has passed, sister. Forgive the cook and forget the faux pas.

EMMABETH stands: I shall wait for you in the carriage.

MARYJANE: Go ahead, dear. I spy Mr. Bingolee and I would like to try a quadrille with him, if he asks me.

EMMABETH: But I have been shamed by spinach! I cannot remain here! Maryjane sighs

MARYJANE: Very well. We?ll depart. She stands and departs with Emmabeth