A Skunken Folly

"All the world's a race, and us mortals merely racers." -- William Skunkspeare

Hence, herein we present a new comedy by Clark Ciery, the bard of Ithaca…

A SKUNKEN FOLLY - A half marathon in four acts

The place: Barton Hall, Ithaca, around April Fool's Day of ye new millennium, site of ye Skunk Cabbage 10K and half marathon.

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

Ricko - a running fool.

Trenka - Ricko's devoted wife.

Casio - a wristwatch.

Ingall - a British noble exiled to Ithaca.

TinyWinnie and Jefjuranio - spritelets with winged feet.

Duke Delaney - a training buddy of Ricko.

Lord and Lady McLaughlin - Ithaca nobility.

Bizzoni - God of virility.

Hoebecky - Keeper of times.

Contessa DeBoer - director of the race.

Prologue: And so it had come to pass that the annual footraces - a 10K and a half marathon were drawing nigh. Ricko, the running fool, approaches the race without worry. We see him running, engaging in talk with a group of companions (the company runs in place on the stage).

Lord McLaughlin: Ricko, fool! The Lady McLaughlin will be running the half marathon for the first time this year. I would aid her in this trying endeavor, but alas I must away to Holland to make sure that the Dutch have deli counters that are just so! When your own labors are done on this first of April, day of fools, wouldst thou see her to the finish? For perhaps, lacking oxygen, your feeble jests may amuse her.

Ricko: That reminds me of a story...

Several days later...

Act I: The registration and preparation

(The stage is set in the dim tones of the Hall of Barton. We see Trenka and Ricko working at a registration table. A motley crew assembles before them with cash in hand)

Trenka: Ricko! Change for a 20! How much for a t-shirt? Oh, must you dally so? Why did Contessa DeBoer entrust you with such a task?

Ricko: (to person at front of motley crew) That reminds me of a story...

Trenka: Enough stories! Fill in the number! Clip the application! Find more change! We have work to do here...shouldn't thou warm thyself to the task at hand?

Ricko: Little warming needed today, my dear! For today I shall start gingerly, stepping lightly the first 8 miles at the pace I plan to run at the great tournament in Boston. Only in the last 40 furlongs shall I exert myself completely. And that reminds me of a story...

(Contessa DeBoer enters from the right...one of the motley crew is with her...with a wave of the hand she stays Ricko's story)

Contessa: This man, yclept Chris, has F checked on his number but most assuredly he is not of the fairer gender. Summon Bizzoni and have the record righted!

(Bizzoni enters...all bow)

ALL: Hail, Bizzoni! What sayest thy machinery?

Bizzoni: If the computer proclaims F, then F it shall be! (The motley runner casts off cotton sweats to reveal that "he" is actually a "she" in compression shorts and a tank top!)

ALL: Hail, Bizzoni!

Bizzoni: Now, go all of you, and run nobly! And stay in order in the finish chute or answer to the dread Hoebecky!

Hoebecky: Hey, I'm out here freezing my fingers off on this stupid timer so you better stay in frickin' order!

Act II: The first 8 miles

(The motley crew)

[to be continued… or not…]