Chapter Thirteen: The Case of the Thespianic Thread
INT. 224B. Afternoon. Minutes later. Right into the middle of a huge fight:
MADGE
Absolutely not, James, the answer is ‘no’!!
STALLION
And I hear you, Madge, I hear you, but to counter, what if instead the answer was “sort of reluctantly yes”?
MADGE
Counter-counter proposal, how about: a friendly but extremely firm “fuck no.”
STALLION
Mmhmm, mmhmm and would you consider a begrudging but ultimately conciliatory “I understand that I must occasionally make a sacrifice for the success of the group and my best friend James will then owe me a favor” compromise?
MADGE
How about a wifely reminder that you already owe me several favors - see that whole marriage thing we did -
STALLION
(under his breath)
Oh my god again with the marriage–
MADGE
–and any further favors can be forwarded to the office of “there’s been a murder!”
FAWX
Have we considered a compromise wherein an eager and willing third party takes the responsibility for press and public relations?
MADGE/STALLION
No!
STALLION
Sorry, Hampton, but You are on a strict regimen of saying as little to the press as humanly possible. Unfortunately, it has to be Madge.
MADGE
‘Unfortunately’?
STALLION
Do you want to do it?
MADGE
No.
STALLION
I'd say that's Unfortunate.
FAWX
So for the record, no one here is interested in letting the person who actually wants to do this have a chance?
STALLION
Correct and, no offense.
FAWX
Much taken!
STALLION
Well none intended, so I’m all good. Look, the reporter was very clear: Madge or nothing.
MADGE
Oh, so there was another option? Great, then let’s go with ‘nothing’. I’m fine with nothing! Absolutely cracking for nothing!
STALLION
Madge, it’s three days. We survived without Christ for that long!
FAWX
James, as someone acutely aware I apparently can do nothing to help the current situation -
STALLION
Again, no offense.
FAWX
Sure - but is there, perhaps, any other compromise on the table, given the discomfort of one-third of the party in the room?
MADGE
I have a name, ya know.
FAWX
Sorry, two-thirds of the party in the room.
A pause, STALLION considers.
STALLION
Well…I suppose…if one of the things we’d taken off the table before–
MADGE
Yes?
STALLION
––could be brought back onto the table, thus knocking our reporter friend off of said table, then we might be able to come to an arrangement.
MADGE
Love that, thank god.
STALLION
Great! So I’ll just RSVP you with the Daughters of the Knitting Circle–
MADGE
Oh, FUCK me, no!
STALLION
Fuck you, yes! Madge. I love you. But at a certain point, we do need to say yes to some things.
Beat. Then, grudgingly:
MADGE
And then once I’m done, we’re back to the case, just us?
STALLION
Just so. But if you back out, or, god forbid, pull a ‘Hampton’ on any of it–
FAWX
Pull a what?!
STALLION
–then the profile is back on. Please. We need this.
MADGE
Deal. I’ll pop out, do a little chit-chat, kiss some metaphorical babies, and be right back for the evidence wall before you know I’m gone. And that’s the last we’ll ever have to see of whatever his name is.
STALLION
Thank you, Madge! You’re a career-saver. Besides, I can’t imagine he’s going to write anything of substance anyway, he’s basically the most boring person alive.
FAWX
James does have a point, he told me his tea order earlier, and by the time I went to make it I had forgotten.
STALLION
Exactly! I mean, he’s been standing right next to me this entire conversation and did any of us even consider addressing him?
MADGE
Nah, not once.
FAWX
I forgot he was there, no offense.
FITZY
(been standing there the whole time)
None taken. I’ve always prided myself on being forgettable.
MADGE
Perfect cuz I don’t even remember what you just said, but give us ya name again? I either wasn’t listening, reasonably forgot, or intentionally blocked it out.
FITZY
Not one of you asked.
MADGE
Oh thank god, at least we weren’t rude.
FITZY
Right. Well. My name is John–
They all instantly react in various forms of audible eyeroll and “eugh.” It’s a super boring name.
What? Is that–
MADGE
It’s just… Holmes had a ‘John,’ we already have a J name in our group…
STALLION
We’re trying to create a legible brand here, you understand. So… do you have anything else?
FITZY
…em…
FAWX
Oh! Perhaps your father’s name?
FITZY
My father was also named John.
MADGE
Grandfather?
FITZY
John.
STALLION
Seedy Uncle?
FITZY
Funny story-
MADGE
Right. Jesus. Johns all the way back, is it?
His silence tells them it is. Ugh.
FAWX
(lightbulb!)
How about Shawn? I like Shawn. It’s warm, approachable. Monosyllabic.
MADGE
If we’re putting a moratorium on ‘J’ names cuz of Holmes, we can’t be accepting S-H ones now too, can we?
FAWX
Oh god, you’re right. Veto! Veto!
STALLION
Counterpoint: he is dead so… fair game? I mean god rest his soul and all but -
MADGE
(lightbulb!)
Oh wait! I got it. Fitzy. What do ya think?
FITZY
(a slightly more concerned:)
…..em.
MADGE
Look at him! Ya gonna tell me you don’t see a perfectly good ‘Fitzy’ when he’s standing slack-jawed in front of you.
FAWX
Now that you mention it…
STALLION
Promising, Madge. Very promising.
MADGE
Right, so what do ya say, Fitzy?
FITZY
I… Umm… Not that I don’t like it but -
MADGE
Alright, fine, then you got about 5 seconds to come up with a better option or we’re just gonna stick with Fitzy, cuz we really gotta get a move on, mate. So, 5.
FITZY
What?
MADGE
4.
FITZY
You’re serious?
MADGE
3.
FITZY
I don’t–
MADGE
2.
A brief moment where he audibly struggles to think of anything else to say. Then, inevitably, because he’s been credited as FITZY in the script this whole time:
Ey! Let’s get this over with, shall we, Fitzy?
CREDITS
EXT. 2 2 Fun B Baker Memorial (& Merriment) Park. The next day, mid-morning.
FAWX, in disguise (a moustache), and STALLION, not in disguise (no moustache), walk the path to the Hard Rocks Cafe.
FAWX
… But I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have done a little disguise, just for old times sake.
STALLION
Hampton, I own the park, I walk these paths every day. These are my people.
The Park Custodian, MONTY walks past.
Good Morning, Monty, my favorite humble park custodian! How goes the day?
MONTY
Huh? Oh, Mornin’.
He walks off.
STALLION
Classic Monty, too dedicated to his work to say my name back in order to verify that he does, in fact, know it. –we did our first attempt at catering for his daughter’s christening so I’m basically family. Hence why no one would believe me in a disguise. You however -
FAWX
Am also incredibly well-known and noticeable by the public. But for this mission, I must, once again, drink from the bedazzléd chalice of Anonymity. You see, we need access to people who knew Dennis, intimately, and perhaps, also hated him. Intimately. Therefore, we need to infiltrate the acting ensemble. Therefore again, I need to be the ensemble–or, at least, in it.
STALLION
Well, you came on the right day. Park rules say we have to hire a new Watson to replace the deceased one before opening–even numbers, for every Holmes a Watson, you understand–and we’ve actually designed an ingenious method of doing so. You see, what we do is / hold auditions–
FAWX
Hold auditions?
STALLION
–I was getting there, yes, AND. Since we need more wait staff than performers, I’ve cleverly designed a system whereby all actors who didn’t make the first round of casting get to audition again when a slot opens up. All they have to do is work a minimum wage service job with no contractual guarantee of any stage time for a minimum of 6 months–with no absences.
FAWX
James, that is incredible!
STALLION
Is it? I was starting to hear a voice in the back of my head that sounded like the old village vicar berating me about my drive towards capitalist success putting a stain on my eternal soul or something to that effect, but whoo is that a relief!
FAWX
Oh no, not that, I mean that this system you’ve come up with is an extremely effective incubator for the exact feelings that could inspire a murderous rage–
STALLION
(to himself)
Push that down, James, it’s probably nothing.
FAWX
–in fact, the entire artistic ensemble of the Dancing Men Revue can now be considered not only valuable character witnesses, but prime suspects as well! Not bad for day one! I’ll infiltrate auditions, gain their trust, and solve it by day’s end!
STALLION
Happy to help, but you will still need to audition, which, and correct me if I’m wrong, you've never done before?
FAWX
Not even a little, but my character has, and trust me, he is quite the thespian.
STALLION
Right, well–
FAWX
So glad you asked to know more.
Affecting gravelly, disaffected, “cool actor” vibe:
My name is Flexton Jones. I studied drama at the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Arts for 3 semesters before dropping out due to my wild natural talent and rebellious demeanor. And after a brief sojourn touring my one-man show “Pimm’s Cup” to various unsuspecting pubs in the South Bank, and retiring to become a farmer in Keswick, I’m ready for my comeback. And this audition could be my big break to show the world my undeniable Craft.
Beat.
STALLION
Well, Flexton Jones, best of luck in your audition for a novelty theme park character.
FAWX
Who needs luck when I’ve got raw, unfiltered Preparation.
Breaking character:
Also! Hampton here, if I ignore you or am just generally disaffected, don’t be alarmed. That’s not your best chum, Hampton. But simply what I must do in order to preserve my charlatan, bad boy persona.
STALLION
If anyone understands that, it’s me. So, you’ve got it from here?
FAWX
Yes. No! Wait.
He drops into FLEXTON:
Yeah… whatever, suit.
FAWX pushes through the door in the cafe. We follow him in. The bustle of a green room before auditions.
Alright, Flexton. You’ve got this.
Scurry of footsteps, WEATHERBY has approached FAWX.
WEATHERBY
Hi! Are you for the auditions?
FAWX
Uhh… yeah, yes, yeah? Sure, that sounds good.
WEATHERBY
Wonderful! If you wouldn’t mind just giving me your name, age, and union status.
FAWX
Flexton Jones. Age 20…4? Status: non-union. By choice.
WEATHERBY
Oh Flexton Jones, love the name. Alright well, that’s all the info I need so, you can feel free to grab a seat.
FAWX
Let me stop you right there.
WEATHERBY
I was done but alright.
FAWX
You’re Elizabeth Weatherby, right? The…Chancellor of Fun?
WEATHERBY
Oh, please, the Chancellor was my father, you can call me Weatherby.
She laughs a little at her joke. Becomes immediately self-conscious about it.
My father wasn’t actually a chancellor, he was a gardener, I don’t know why I… that’s me, that’s my title. Yes.
FAWX
(way too casual with the pivot)
That’s… good. Hey, quick q, didn’t you, like, find a dead body the other night?
WEATHERBY
Oh. Don’t worry there won’t be any questions about the body as part of the audition.
FAWX
Good?
WEATHERBY
But, not so much. It’s a long story, and I don’t want to bore you so -
FAWX
You’re not -
WEATHERBY
Ok so, Lucius sent me to look for Doctor Watson after he ran off, so I was checking the Lost and Found (of the Baskervilles)–you know, where the lost things end up–and that’s when I heard Monty yell for help. And when I ran over, I found the fallen carcass of Dennis’s poor, non-union body! It was so sad. And you know, with that horrible altercation earlier at rehearsal–
FAWX
Sorry, the horrible what?
A bell rings from inside.
WEATHERBY
Oh, so sorry, it looks like we’re getting started. Break legs, Mr. Jones!
And she’s off, before he can get a word in. WHOOSH into:
INT. Victorian version of a convention center. Same time. MADGE is checking in for the event, a panel with the Daughters of the Knitting Circle.
MONITOR
Good morning, welcome to the Future Is Female convention on this fine day. Can I help you get checked in?
MADGE
Oh. Yeah, I’m actually a speaker, with the, uh, Daughters of the Knitting Circle. Madge. Stallion. Madge Stallion. Detective. Lady. Lady-detective, for purposes of feminism et cetera.
An attempted flirt:
And you are…?
MONITOR
Working.
MADGE
(under her breath)
You’d think being a “generational icon” would increase my hit ratio, and yet–
FITZY
(behind her)
Do you always talk to yourself, or just when you’re on a case?
MADGE
Jesus, you spindly fuck!
MONITOR
Language.
MADGE
Sorry!
FITZY
(quietly)
You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?
MADGE
(quietly)
Ooh, what was your first clue, detective?
FITZY
Around the time you pushed me into a gaggle of unaccompanied children and shouted that I had just seen ghost number three and wanted to free myself from the chains of miser-dom, I started to get an inkling.
MADGE
And yet here you are, Christmas-goose-free.
FITZY
As it turns out, I’m rather good with children.
MADGE
No you’re fuckin’ not.
FITZY
You’re right, they find my professionalism off-putting. I paid them off–which probably makes me an easy mark for the future, but I’m here now. And ready to talk if you change your mind?
MADGE
I’m good.
MONITOR
Are you both ready to check in or does this pantomime have another act?
MADGE
Yes, right, again, Madge Stallion, speaker and Icon Extraordinaire. This is Fitzy, he’s irrelevant and will be gone soon. Like most men, am I right?
MONITOR
This is your first time joining us, then?
MADGE
Fuck me.
MONITOR
Language.
MADGE
Ok, we’re all adults -
FITZY
I’m press. I have my credentials–
MONITOR
You’re fine, I’ll put you down as “man.”
MADGE
But you just–
MONITOR
This way. We’ve just started.
Whoosh.
INT. The Kitchen of the Hard Rocks Cafe. Mid morning.
ARCHIE and McMURPHY are busy at work, pots and pans clang and water bubbles.
ARCHIE
McMurphy, I need a time check on those danishes.
McMURPHY
Danish-check: Coming right up, Chef.
STALLION throws the doors wide.
STALLION
Well well well, if it isn’t the star of the day! Not sure if you saw the Times but–
STALLION straightens a newspaper.
–what do you get for the man who inspired them to publish such rave reviews as “profoundly edible” and “Crudités that make you want to say Crudi-yay”?
ARCHIE
Oh. Wow. I don’t think anyone’s ever responded to a pun-based menu with more puns.
STALLION
I know! Who could have imagined–two years ago, working for Scotland Yard, miserable, overworked, unfulfilled that you would be here, now Doing what you love, in a culinary temple of your own creation. I am so, so proud of you, and so proud I could be a part of this journey with you.
ARCHIE
Thank you, James. I—you’re right. It’s incredible, all of it. And I’m sure, soon, we’ll be nearing a point where I can truly –enjoy it, you know? And I will - I promise - actually celebrate.
STALLION
(lower voice, a flirt)
Yes, well…on the topic of celebration…I have been reliably informed that the Red Threaded Tweed tailor shop will be temporarily closed this afternoon on a routine Argyle Summit, should you want to do any celebrating of the…intimate variety.
ARCHIE ARCHIE, who has been laser-focused on the chopping he’s been doing, doesn’t respond right away, and then realizes on a two second delay what has been asked.
ARCHIE
Oh! Right.
STALLION
(immediate backtrack)
Or not.
They both overcompensate in opposite directions to a weird degree.
ARCHIE
No, no, I want to–!
It’s just–god, we’re so busy.
This is not–about us or how I–
At all!
STALLION
Totally fine.
Yeah, I know–I also–
Same!
And I completely understand–
STALLION
I’m busy too! Incredibly busy. Running a park. Soooo busy. And tired! Just like you! So, I just thought, you know, I could rally if you–
ARCHIE
Oh and, I do! And we will! I–how about tonight? I mean I know I have the night off but I… what else are nights off for!
STALLION
Yes! Absolutely! We shall have our day. Or Night. To-night.
ARCHIE
Definitely!
Beat. What the fuck just happened? After a moment:
A timer goes off in the next room.
ARCHIE
I should–
STALLION
Yeah!
ARCHIE rushes out. Beat.
STALLION
(to himself)
I think that went great, personally.
McMURPHY approaches STALLION.
McMURPHY
I think that’s real admirable, Jim Jam.
STALLION
What have I told you about calling me --wait, what’s admirable?
McMURPHY
Oh, you know, what you two got going on. Bein’ friends, and bein’ coworkers, like that. My gran used to say, “Ephraim, balancing a personal and professional relationship is tougher than running a Chelsea fish fry on a Wednesday.”
STALLION
Wha–
McMURPHY
On account of all the grease.
This makes no sense.
STALLION
Right. Well, I’m going to–
McMURPHY
For instance there was a time, me and my ex, Jocasta, tried to start a feral hog nursery together out in York. Had all the paperwork, crunched all the numbers. Thought we were solid enough to beat the odds. Soon enough, though, all we talked about was washing the hogs, feeding the hogs, selling the hogs, what would happen if we missed the hogs we’d sold and wanted to get ‘em back, balancing the egos of the hogs, you get it–it was all we had left to talk about. And I think that was what tore us apart in the end. Well, that and the priest she ran off to Majorca with, you remember.
Beat.
But with you two? I think you’ve got what it takes, Jim. I really do.
WHOOSH.
INT. The Dining Room/Audition Room of the Hard Rocks Cafe. About an hour later. All around FAWX, actors are warming up, maybe playing a game of Zip Zap Zop or two. FAWX whispers to the AUDITIONER next to him.
FAWX
Oh, Auditions. Perfect place to get nervous, ey? Savvy? Not saying that’s how I feel. Hello, Flexton Jones. I’m just saying it’s easy for things to… heighten in a situation like this. The thrill of wanting something so badly you feel like you’ll just die on the spot? Or, I don’t know, kill, even.
AUDITIONER #1
Oh, I’m just grateful for the chance to be here. Even if I don’t get cast.
FAWX
Right. Yeah. Sure. But like…you do want to get cast, right?
AUDITIONER #1
Oh, I couldn’t say. If I was the right person for the role. Fingers crossed, ha.
FAWX
Of course Of course…That’s the… So. Hypothetically, say you were the right person for the role–
AUDITIONER #1
–ope, you said it, not me–
FAWX
–and you knew that–
AUDITIONER #1
Couldn’t say!
FAWX
Don't you ever want to act so badly, you’d throw someone off a cliff?
Beat.
Metaphorically?
RAKE
You wouldn’t be attempting to break actor-waiter-theme park worker solidarity, would you?
Thomas RAKE, a tall actor in his 30s that looks pretty astoundingly like Sherlock Holmes (maybe a bit more attractive), stands behind him.
Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.
FAWX
W–what?
RAKE
Apologies, I’m A Sherlock Holmes. Here, at the park. Name’s Thomas Rake.
FAWX
Oh! Oh, ha ha ha! That is so… yes. Hampton - Flexton. Flexton Jones. Why are you here?
RAKE
Well Hampton Flexton Flexton Jones - great name by the way - memorable consonants - not sure if you heard or not, but my last Watson met with, shall we say, a rather unfortunate exit.
FAWX
Oh, yes, I heard. And how do you…feel about that?
RAKE
How do you think? The bond between scene partners is ethereal. The Cassius to my Brutus. The Romulus to my Remus. The Entire Country of England to my Henry V. But truth be told, all of us actors are pretty shaken up, I mean, sure, this time it’s a Watson, but who's next, ya know? We’ve gotta trust each other. And hopefully one of you is gonna be talented and trustworthy enough to be my new partner. So, Hampton Flexton Flexton Jones, what do you say? Can I trust you?
Whoosh.
INT. Convention Center. Same time.
The Head of the Daughters of the Knitting Circle, LOTTIE–cool, collected, charismatic–is warming up her crowd.
LOTTIE
And now, my fellow Daughters of the Knitting Circle–and our lovely audience for this Feminist Futures panel–we have an incredibly special guest who finally answered our invitations.
Hubbub!
You know her from The Standard, you know her from The Times, you know her from discovering our sister Margery Tinsleton’s husband’s affair earlier this spring.
MARGERY
(brightly)
We’re doing great!
CUT TO: Backstage. MADGE and FITZY.
FITZY
So… just as a thought exercise, how do you feel about the public persona of Madge Stallion? Do you believe appearances like this help or hurt your methodology for solving crimes?
MADGE
Cute. I’m not answering that. Or any other questions. Now zip lip, I gotta get in the zone for… whatever this is about to be.
FITZY
Right.
Beat.
MADGE
It hurts.
CUT TO: Onstage, LOTTIE’s intro.
LOTTIE
Please give a warm Daughters of the Knitting Circle welcome to Mrs. Madge Stallion!
The audience applauds. The Daughters start clapping with their knitting needles.
DAUGHTERS
Knit knit knit knit knit knit knit knit!
MADGE walks out.
MADGE
(Under her breath and through her teeth)
What… the… fuck…
Beat. Silence. They all stop at the same time. It’s creepy.
Right, so… I’m Madge. And a few things we should get out of the way before we dive in: I’m a detective. I am… a woman, eh? Uh… I don’t care for marzipan… Umm…fuckin…
A light quarter-hour ring from the clock.
And, that’s my time! It’s been wonderful being here with you all. One day I’m sure you’ll achieve your goal of… I dunno, crocheting the world? See ya soon!
She starts to leave abruptly. LOTTIE intervenes. Still cheerful.
LOTTIE
Oh excuse me, Madge. I’m sorry, but you can’t go just yet. We have so many pre-screened questions to ask you!
MADGE
Right, but you see I just have so many other appointments today, I don’t want to bore you with the list- truly wish I could stay but ugh, you know, crime - it just never sleeps, the inconsiderate brute! Now, in terms of payment would you say - -
LOTTIE grabs her arm as she passes. Still charming for the crowd:
LOTTIE
Oh, Madge, what a delightful wit! You never cease to surprise. But if you’ll remember, you are contracted, via your extremely late RSVP, to answer the questions of our members for the next hour and a half and then stay for our Snacky Luncheon. Margery spent over 20 minutes making those cucumber rounds. And I know how that sounds, but it is, in fact, monumental for her.. And if you don’t stay for that, how would that make you look?
MARGERY
Oh, that’s fine, I don’t–
LOTTIE makes a quick and kinda intense “zip it” noise, and MARGERY stops.
She’s right. I would be pretty put off.
There is maybe a hint of something kinda scary in LOTTIE’s eyes. MADGE recognizes when she’s been beaten.
MADGE
Well…you know what they say. Sometimes crime…can wait. And I can’t wait for a… cucumber round.
Whoosh
INT. The Dining Room/Audition Room of the Hard Rocks Cafe.
MME DELLEDONTE, 60s, French, Over it. Constantly smoking, nothing has impressed her since she was a child.
MME DELLEDONTE
Bonjour, Ciao, Hallo For those of you who don’t remember me from the last round of auditions, I am the director of The Dancing Men Revue, Madame Delledonte of the Comedie Francaise, as you all know but should be reminded. Luckily, Mademoiselle Weatherby reached out to me as I happened to be in town looking to buy some bowls, and told me we needed to do these auditions so, good timing. That being said, I must be on the first train to Marseille which by my half dead watch is in 2 hoeurs so please stop wasting my time and I don’t know, get on with it.
AUDITIONER #1
“Bly-me, Sherlock. The game… is… a foot?!” Sorry, that was bad. Can I go again?
MME DELLEDONTE
No. Next!
AUDITIONER #2
“I, John Watson, have not lived in Sherlock Holmes for years for nothing!” Oh it’s ‘with’ not ‘in’... I’m always flipping those.
MME DELLEDONTE
Next!
AUDITIONER #3
“What studied Torments Sherlock has for me! Whether tis’ nobler in the mind to -”
MME DELLEDONTE
Two different plays and I wouldn’t cast you in either. Next!
AUDITIONER #4
(sung to the tune of Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik”)
“Come, my friend, the game is now a foot. And, you know, the foot is really goot -”
MME DELLEDONTE
No slant rhymes!
AUDITIONER #4
It’s actually German for ‘good’.
MME DELLEDONTE
Oh great, so you think the people coming to this park are bilingual? Double Next.
AUDITIONER #5
Does that mean I don’t get to go?
MME DELLEDONTE
Exactly.
AUDITIONER #6
Right, so let me tell ya ‘bout my ex-girlfriend -
MME DELLEDONTE
Next!
AUDITIONER #6
Can I ask why?
MME DELLEDONTE
You’re auditioning for John Watson and that’s what you started with.
AUDITIONER #6
Actually I thought I was auditioning for Sherlock Holmes.
MME DELLEDONTE
Even more egregious. Next!
AUDITIONER #7
Hi there! Samuel Pinkerton Chase. 5’ 9”. Union Affiliated: Weaver. Willing to shave. Reading for the role of John Watson.
MME DELLEDONTE
See, this is what I’m talking about. Some goddamn professionalism.
AUDITIONER #7
May I use this chair?
MME DELLEDONTE
Next!
AUDITIONER #7
I’m sorry?
MME DELLEDONTE
I hate suckups and chairs. Their only function is to remind me of the limits of my own craft. Next!
FAWX
(under his breath)
Not Flexton Jones, Not Flexton Jones, Not Flexton Jones.
MME DELLEDONTE
Ehh…Flexton Jones, you’re up.
FAWX
Oh god.
Whoosh.
INT. The Daughters of the Knitting Circle Panel. Half an hour later.
LANOLIN
–and that is when I decided that, yes, I could be a mother…and a wife.
A solemn round of applause.
LOTTIE
Thank you, Lanolin. The Daughters thank you for your bravery. As a fellow woman, I think this story speaks to all of us.
MADGE
Jesus Christ…
LOTTIE
Yes, Madge? You seemed to be very vocally absorbing Lanolin’s tale. Anything more to add?
MADGE
Oh, nah, nah, nah. I’m good. I’m good, yeah. But as a uhh, female cousin of a…nother female cousin, thanks, too.
LOTTIE
There’s that charming wit. Again. It’s so present. Well, daughters, now that we’ve all checked in with each other and gotten the first pass at the snack table -
“We’re so bad” tittering.
We are happy to introduce the other half of our Feminist Futures panel with the Daughters of the Knitting Circle–welcome all, to the Husbands of the Daughters of the Knitting Circle!
MADGE
Wait, what the–
LOTTIE
(cutting her off)
Let’s give them a hearty yet feminine welcome!
Something way cooler plays for their intro. Self-congratulatory. Under the music, LOTTIE pulls MADGE aside:
LOTTIE
I’m sorry but what the fuck do you think you are doing, Madge.
MADGE
No. I’m sorry, because what the fuck are men doing here? Isn’t this the Futuristic Feminism panel?
LOTTIE
Well I’m sorry, but you’d know exactly what it was if you’d answered the RSVPs, or come to any of our meetings.
MADGE
And, again, I’m sorry because I’m starting to feel like these aren’t actual apologies.
LOTTIE
Oh well that would be the first accurate deduction I’ve heard all day, now, wouldn’t it?
MADGE
Right - final “I’m sorry,” but: Are you feeling this energy right now? Because I recently got out of a vague relationship-adjacent thing and I’m not too picky.
LOTTIE
I would rather shove this knitting needle directly up Lanolin’s nostril. After what you said to Margery?
MADGE
What did I say to Margery??
MARGERY
Oh it was nothing.
LOTTIE
Say it, Margery.
MARGERY
It was at the library last Wednesday, you saw me returning a copy of Bleak House and you said, “That’s a big book, too much of a commitment for your husband, eh?”
MADGE
That was a compliment! I still assumed you read it!
LOTTIE
Make a bloody effort, Madge, for fuck’s sake.
The HUSBANDS take their seats. LOTTIE is back in PR mode. The Husband’s President, HENRY Stillwater is on stage with them.
Thank you so much, gentlemen, for joining us today in this talk about feminism and the future.
HENRY
It is a pleasure, as always Lottie. And might I add those cucumber rounds? Margery? Lights out. We are all very, very proud. Now, Lottie, I’ve planned no speech although we both know I can extempore with the best of them - but no I am here to simply say how I am tickled the most feminine shade of pink to get the opportunity to hear Mrs. Stallion speak. In fact, I think we all are, right Husbands?
HUSBANDS
Yo Hoooooooooooo!
HUSBAND #1
Oh, oh! I have a question for Mrs. Stallion.
LOTTIE
Right. Well, we’re not really at the Q&A section, and Mrs. Stallion has a pre-approved list–
HUSBAND #1
How does one become a detective?
MADGE is pleasantly surprised.
LOTTIE
You don’t have to answer that, M-
MADGE
Nah, it’s fine. I like his verve. So, let you in on a little secret, Step number 1, don’t have kids.
Large “ahh” from the HUSBANDS and audience. Scribbling as they take down notes.
Are you… sorry are you all actually writing this down?
HUSBAND #1
It’s very helpful!
HUSBAND #2
Totally makes sense!
HUSBAND #3
If I wasn’t so terrified of dying I could’ve avoided that years ago.
MARGERY’S HUSBAND
See Margery? I’m learning!
MADGE
Step number 2 is… I don’t know, find something that doesn’t make sense and start pulling at the strings.
HUSBAND #2
Right, right, and when you say ‘pull at the strings’... what if the mystery doesn’t involve thread or cloth at all. What if it’s more a matter of money going missing or a promotion going to someone who just started at the mill when you’ve been working there for going on 14 years now.
MADGE
Seems specific -
HUSBAND #3
She means you gotta look for things with thread and start pulling at those.
HUSBAND #1
You mean like a chaise lounge? Or a couch?
MADGE
Not -
HUSBAND #2
Or like a pillow on the couch in my boss’s office at the mill? You’re saying the answer could be in there?
HUSBAND #3
Wait, your boss has a pillow in his office?
HUSBAND #2
Yeah, just a simple patterned throw pillow, I thought it was nothing.
HUSBAND #3
Well clearly not, Charles! You’ve got to tear that pillow apart!
HUSBAND #2
Then I’ll be a detective too. Wow!
HUSBAND #1
Anyone can pick up the magnifying glass!
HENRY
Is that right, Madge? Can anyone become a detective, as long as they believe they are, even if they don’t ever solve anything?
Beat.
MADGE
What’s in that barrel you got hiding over in the corner?
HENRY
Some of Horace’s home brewed Lager, we close out every meeting with a pint.
MADGE
Tell ya what, pour me a pint of that lager and I’ll call ya Sherlock bloody Holmes.
Husbands cheer!
WHOOSH.
INT. The Hard Rocks Cafe. FAWX is onstage, auditioning.
MME DELLEDONTE
Monsieur Jones. Whenever you’re ready.
FAWX
Yes, well… Flexton Jones reading for the role of… John Watson. You know I’ve actually studied Sherlock Holmes for… awhile or, or I do have some Ibsen prepared, and it’s an obscure one, so -
MME DELLEDONTE
Convince me you can walk before you convince me you can repair my marriage.
FAWX
Right, John Watson… John Watson… I… hmmm… is there any way I could request to read with…Thomas Rake, there?
Mild hubbub.
What? Did I say something?
RAKE
(to himself, laughing)
I knew it. God dammit, I knew it the second I laid eyes on you.
FAWX
Knew what?
MME DELLEDONTE
Do you see, amateurs, the first rule of auditioning is to get inside the head of your character. Flexton, here, recognizes that he has no autonomy. He can’t do anything on his own. Like a scared infant in the wilderness. He is nothing without his Sherlock Holmes. That is John Watson.
FAWX
Well I actually hadn’t even -
The door burst open and in comes STALLION, WEATHERBY, and McMURPHY with coffee and danishes.
STALLION
Ahoy hoy! The Russet and Brunette colored seas of coffee and teas are now available in the back as well as some delectable danishes and -
MME DELLEDONTE
Mr. Stallion, may I introduce you to your new Watson: Mr. Flexton Jones.
STALLION.
Well that is…. Wonderful. Wonderful! Lovely to meet you for the first time, Mr. Jones.
FAWX
(too cool)
Sure.
STALLION
Ok.
MME DELLEDONTE
Mr Stallion, I must be catching my train, please retrieve my bowls from the break room. I’ll invoice you for the day. And to be clear I got here at 9, not a moment later.
STALLION.
Well, it’s only 10:15, so the hourly breakdown would actually be–
MME DELLEDONTE
Oh no no no no, Mr Stallion. Art is volatile, transitory, fleeting. Sometimes we toil 9 to 5 searching for answers, and sometimes we put in ten minutes of deep contemplation and the answer stands before us with crossed arms and flat feet, like an embarrassed Greecian statue. When you know, you know, and I know. Mademoiselle Weatherby if you could please take Monsieur Jones to his costume, he’ll begin immediately. The rest of you… merci met non merci. And don’t forget to stack your unused chairs and tables on the way out! I can’t stand the idea of vacant chairs and vacant tables.
She swans out. The auditioners begin to leave.
STALLION
Well, Mr. Jones. It’s nice to see someone so dedicated to the noble craft of treading the boards will be working with us here at 22Fun.
McMURPHY
And I’m McMurphy! I’ve been the one carrying the danishes. Oh, also since you work here now, I’m required to let you know that’ll count as your meal for the day and - don’t worry - I won’t mention it if you wanna grab some coffee on the way out.
FAWX
Wonderful. Ms. Weatherby, I’m ready to see my costume now…
WEATHERBY leads FAWX out.
McMURPHY
Ya know, it’s funny. I’ve seen that same vest in Hampton Fawx’s closet once and thought “nah, no one’s ever gonna pull that off”. But this guy does. Somehow he does.
STALLION
What were you doing going through Hampton’s closet?
McMURPHY
I go through all my friends’ closets. Just as a little game.
STALLION
What game even is that?
McMURPHY
If I told you, it wouldn’t be no game, Jim. Think about it…
Whoosh.
INT. Daughters of the Knitting Circle & Husbands of the Daughters of the Knitting Circle.
HENRY
Wow. Madge, I’ve never seen this group fired up like this before!
HUSBAND #1
What do we want?
HUSBANDS
Lager!
HUSBAND #1
And when do we want it?!
HUSBANDS
Patiently after the ladies have been served!
MARGERY’S HUSBAND
Specifically my beautiful wife Margery! Wooooo!
Privately:
LOTTIE
I’m so sorry, Madge, may I have another word.
MADGE
As long as that word isn’t -
LOTTIE
Sorry, what the fuck is your problem?
MADGE
You’re really gonna have to stop saying sorry–isn’t that, like, a Thing for you guys? Besides, what are you so upset about? I’m making you look cool!
LOTTIE
No, you’re making you look cool! Is it too much to ask that you follow the lead of people who have been doing this longer than you?
MADGE
Oh, what, so you’re just fine with sitting in the background chirping on about being the daughter of a male husband who once survived leaving your foyer as the peak of female empowerment–
LISBETH
I told that story from a place of vulnerability! It was a safe space!
MADGE
Still is, Not like there’s a fire.
LOTTIE
Look, there are things about how this goes that you don’t understand, and if you would just come to a single meeting–
MADGE
Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the cheers for MORE SHOTS PLEASE!
A full HUZZAH!
Now, any more questions about how impressive being a detective is?
HUSBAND #2
Mrs. Stallion. What’s the most depraved case you’ve ever been on? Ever seen something that stirs up a lot of bile in the belly?
MADGE
Great question! Once we had to return a cart to a woman whose name was on it and when we brought it to her she said she’d never seen that cart before in her life. Just spooky shit left and -
MARGERY’S HUSBAND
Right, and as a woman how’d that make you feel?
MADGE
Um…well, probably the same as it’d make you feel–
MARGERY’S HUSBAND
But your job is harder, right? As a woman? It’s like–I was doing this thought experiment the other day after marriage therapy–love you, sweetie–I was “exercising my empathy” like the doc reminds me, trying to get into the head - and feelings - of my beautiful and capable wife Margery–to understand her more, right? And so I was going about my day, having a laugh, buying a croissant, waving at a dog–you know, typical man’s day out. And I realized–my wife could do all of that - because she can do anything in the world - but it would probably just be way worse. For her. And I want to honor that part of her human experience. So if you could just tell us how much it just totally sucks to do this as a woman, that’d be great.
HUSBAND #1
So that we can learn.
HUSBAND #3
And grow.
HUSBAND #2
And use our voices to help you speak truth, maybe in a best selling book or a series of lurid short stories about your life.
MADGE
Wait, so why can’t I talk about the fun stuff I do?
HUSBAND #1
Oh you can, and we want to hear about that too! But if you could couch those fun bits within the wider picture of how those fun bits are probably less fun for you as a marginalized member of society–that would be great and helpful for us too.
MADGE
Uh, well…my life is not, actually, that hard. I’m pretty lucky, my husband has money–
HUSBAND #3
But people probably talk about you behind your back, like other worse people that aren’t here, about how you’re not as good as men.
HUSBAND #2
Which is both clearly untrue and narratively interesting as an uphill societal battle.
MARGERY’S HUSBAND
Yeah, so I think we’d all like to know how it’s different as a woman––
MADGE
Well, I guess it’s mainly different because you have to do shit like answer these stupid fucking questions.
She laughs like this will go over as a joke. It doesn’t. Silence falls across the room.
I mean… am I right ladies? Yeah?
Beat. Finally, the clock chimes two.
I’ll uh…take my shot to go, please?
INT. Weatherby’s Office.
WEATHERBY
Oh, here’s my office. I know it looks like a broom closet, that’s because it is, and if you don’t think Monty’s made it cozy now, just wait until I conduct your monthly performance review in here. but since it’s your first day this is more of a welcome to the family!
FAWX
Yeah. Cool. Very cool. And what kind of axis of grading would that performance report be on? Wouldn’t you say theatre is more of a fleeting glimpse at the beauty of humanity in a completely non-quantifiable container of ephemerality? How would I get a better grade? Not that I care. Is it a 1-10 situation or–
WEATHERBY
Oh, a 1-10 scale is so limiting, don’t you think? I find that the Hodgson 23-point efficiency scale–
FAWX/WEATHERBY
–allows for a more complete assessment of ability in a time-lapsed capacity!
WEATHERBY
Yes! Wow. You know, I’m surprised–actors are usually a more bohemian sort. They don’t tend to care for precision… to a Hodgson extent.
FAWX
Oh, yeah. I mean. Sure. Whatever, Square. Or–not square! Because bohemians don’t believe in right angles. Oval. Dome. Parabola–Hampton you’re not helping yourself.
WEATHERBY
Tea? I must warn you that if you say yes that will count as one of your two beverage breaks for the day so you’ll want to drink the whole thing for proper hydration. Rehearsals can get quite intense.
FAWX
Oh. Yes. Thank you. Speaking of which, didn’t you say that there was an…altercation before, with Dennis? As his replacement, should I be on the lookout?
WEATHERBY
Oh, that? No, no, that is not going to be an issue moving forward. Doctor Watson came to visit the morning of the…you know. And he was rather—chuffed, negatively that is, about some of the artistic choices Mr. Stallion and Madame Delledonte had made. Dennis asked a question, Dr. Watson didn’t care for the question, he left. Some words were exchanged that were perhaps of the non-family friendly variety. We thought we’d smoothed it over with him afterward but….well. Don’t go asking Dr Watson any pesky little questions, and you should be fine!
FAWX
….shouldn’t be a problem. Nothing else?
WEATHERBY
No, no, everything’s been going swimmingly, really. It’s a lovely place to work. Though, if you do receive any anonymous threatening notes about something terrible happening to keep the park from opening just drop those in my mail slot and don’t even worry about it.
FAWX
I’m sorry wha–
The bell chimes two.
WEATHERBY
Ooooh! Time to get you to your locker! Slurp that tea and come with me!
INT. Daughters of the Knitting Circle. The last few people file out and they’re alone.
LOTTIE
Right. Now, prefacing that I’m not the famous detective here: how do you think that went, Madge?
MADGE
I mean, the end wasn’t great, but I think I at least made more of an effort than you lot did! All of that “as a woman, as a wife” stuff–not exactly–
LOTTIE
Oh for god’s sake, Madge, it was all an act!
MADGE
…what?
LOTTIE
Do you know how much we were paid to do this event?
MADGE
I dunno, I’m thinking 5 pence and a “coupon” from your husbands for a foot rub you won’t be able to cash–
LOTTIE
200 pounds.
For clarity: in 1891 this was a FUCKING LOT.
MADGE
Fuck off?!
LOTTIE
200 pounds to knit in a stupidly unequal circle, and act nice, and answer some ridiculous questions about things we probably-to-certainly don’t care about.
MADGE
Well why didn’t anyone tell me, I love lying!
LOTTIE
Because every time we sent you an invitation to one of our meetings, you sent back a telegram that just said “fart noise” in brackets.
MADGE
That’s fair, I did do that. But wait, isn’t this, like, incredibly fucked up? To just get rich off pretending to be something you’re not?
LOTTIE
We’re not “getting rich,” Madge, we’re working. Do you think I want to do this? I’m a chemist. Lanolin is co-chair of the Women’s Suffragette Committee. Lisbeth returned yesterday from traveling around the world - in 45 days, mind you -and gave the keynote speech at the Royal Society of Female Journalists twenty minutes ago.
MADGE
Wait, but she was here the whole–
LOTTIE
Was she?
MADGE
Whoa.
LOTTIE
And Margery…paints cubes or something–I don’t get it, but other people seem to. We take the bare minimum we need to do our work and we donate the rest. And remind me, what have you done, Madge, except act like you’re better than us?
MADGE
Wha–I–wait, so you’re angry that I made fun of the people you’re pretending to be for money?
LOTTIE
Yes! Because those women exist too! Probably. Why wouldn’t they? And you would know that if you didn’t make fun of them, or if you didn’t care more about ingratiating yourself with the men than having a single conversation with us, or if you had bothered to actually stop giving pull quotes about knock-off spider memorabilia long enough to RSV-bloody-P!
Beat. It’s tense.
MADGE
Right, are you sure you’re not feeling this? I just - Your words are saying “mucky muck pond scum” but that could go a lot of different ways, and if my husband is the issue, let me assure you that’s not–
LOTTIE
Oh please, Madge, all of our husbands have, at the very least, a subtextually-charged relationship with a pen pal. You’re not special.
MARGERY
Well, I don’t know about that, my Walter–
LOTTIE
Oh my god we get it, Margery, you married for love and he still cheated on you, move on.
MADGE
…so that’s a no?
LOTTIE
Go back to solving mysteries, Madge. Come talk to us when you actually have something to say. Daughters, knit out!
As a group, they leave. FITZY steps in.
FITZY
That was quite something, you know.
MADGE
Fucking Fitzy. Could you, like, officially piss off now?
FITZY
I mean, it was a disaster. I don’t think you actually answered a single question with any substance. You insulted half the room. You single-handedly isolated 2 major sects of your demographic: men and women.
MADGE
Do you have a point?
FITZY
But that last bit was honest. I was interested. Other people will be too. Are you going to let me tell them now?
MADGE
Look, Fitzy. I don’t know what you want me to say here, I think I made it pretty clear how I feel about having to talk about what I do.
FITZY
I don’t want to talk about it.
MADGE
Then what the fuck do you want, Fitzy?
Beat. FITZY knows he has one chance to pitch this.
FITZY
Mrs. Stallion–
MADGE
Ugh.
FITZY
(not a “first names” kinda guy but going for it)
Madge. Someone is going to write this story, eventually. It’s inevitable. Would you rather it be told by someone who only listens to what you say in forums like this, or by someone who actually cares about what you do.
Beat.
MADGE
One day and I get to read anything you write down in your little notebook.
FITZY
Three and I will give you a very generous editing pass.
MADGE
Two but you have to solve it with us.
Beat.
You want to know what we do, yeah? Then you have to see what goes into it. That’s my condition. Silly voices and all.
Beat. She clearly thinks he’ll say no.
FITZY
How silly are we talking?
MADGE
Oh, you have no idea, Fitzy. Also, I get to keep calling you Fitzy.
FITZY
Feck, you’ve come this far with it, may as well. Deal. Shall we?
They start walking.
MADGE
For the record, you’re not doing this to try and angle for a shag, right? Because I physically could not be less interested–
FITZY
Oh no, I don’t think either of us would enjoy that.
WHOOSH.
INT. Hard Rocks Cafe, Costume Shop. FAWX going through his locker.
FAWX
Oh good, And here I thought they’d maybe have the decency to give me an empty lock - But… wait that must mean all this belonged to…
He fumbles with papers and clothes.
Dennis! Oh my - Yes! Oh Hampton, this is your finest hour. Empty water cup, tooth brush exposed to the elements, Receipt for a turkey leg, receipt for a turkey leg, receipt for a turkey leg, bushel of sage, why not, and… oh.. Oh yes. A note! A handwritten note to… Wait… it’s incomprehensible, what am I looking at–
RAKE closes the locker next to him.
RAKE
Oh, yeah, the handwriting -
FAWX
Murder locker!
RAKE
Sorry, mate! Didn’t realize you were so easily startled. Maybe do some journaling about that? Doesn’t really fit Doctor Watson’s energy. Don’t worry, the animal work will help with that. Think Peruvian capybara.
FAWX
What did you mean?
RAKE
About the handwriting? Yeah, total shit, it was perfect. We all try to go for authenticity here when we’re in a work space, right down to the handwriting–see, doctor’s scrawl.
FAWX
Oh, right, I suppose that makes sense.
RAKE
How’s the costume feel?
FAWX
It does seem to be… rather itchy… is that…normal?
RAKE
Considering the suits are made of cotton and thatch, yeah. But, again, something you get used to.
FAWX
Cotton and thatch, you say? Funny I would’ve thought they’d be a bit more… accurate.
RAKE
And if we were at the Savoy, maybe we could get you a nice three-piece brown houndstooth, but this is a theme park, mate. The place where expectations go to sit in the waiting room. At least it fits, right?
FAWX
Well, it’s a 52 long.
RAKE
What size do you usually wear?
FAWX
45 short. But it’s fine, I can roll up…everything. See? Sleeve is as good as…new?
FAWX has noticed something.
RAKE
Flexton? Was that a question or a comment, because specificity of intent is everything.
FAWX
A question, actually. And an observation: there are initials in this sleeve: DB. Dennis’s, I assume. And to follow up on that, another question: did Dennis have more than one costume?
RAKE
Oh, mate, hilarious that you think we get doubles. I have to trade off socks with the Holmes outside the gift shop. Quick tip: make sure you get the Monday rotation.
FAWX
But Dennis…If Dennis died in his costume, then how am I wearing his costume now?
RAKE
Spooky question, there, mate. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s–we were all in costume for the event.
FAWX
Right, so there was no other costume it could have been. Unless…
IPHY
(from 2x02)
Ahh! This is interesting here. Past the piercing Tibia and over the long johns you can see a tag, here on the bottom of the brown houndstooth jacket.
FAWX
Unless it wasn’t a costume.
FAWX
(from 2x02)
“J.W.” Well obviously that must mean -
MADGE
(from 2x02)
–with the real John Watson’s nicked speech in his pocket–
FAWX
Unless it was the real thing.
RAKE
The real thing? You think John Watson came in here, told Dennis to fuck off, and then, what, gave him his jacket?
FAWX
Or maybe Dennis stole it.
RAKE
And so…sorry, you think Doctor Watson killed him over a nicked jacket? I mean, I know it’s not exactly Chekhov, but maybe just leave a bad review.
FAWX
I don’t know, maybe?
Lightbulb.
Or. Maybe we’re asking the wrong question. Maybe it’s not about who wanted to kill Dennis.
IPHY
I guess he does kind of look like him.
LUCIUS
–uncanny resemblance
STALLION
–he really did look exactly like John Watson.
LUCIUS
–if not slightly more attractive–
FAWX
I think the actual question is: who wanted to kill John Watson?
End of Part 3