In the Spring of 2000, Balfour Highschool decided to create a new Dramatic Production, written and directed by Balfour students. After a month of stressful preperations, the Spring Production performed infront of an audience and raised $500 in ticket prices. Of the plays presented was my own, a Mystery Parody entitled Murder Mansion or No One Ever Suspects the Dead Guy, which you are about to read. Written in 3 days and practiced for 18 culminative hours, the final procut was a hit, if I do say so myself. Before reading the script, I feel fit to show a copy of the Cast and Crew list from the Play, show below.
Murder Mansion or No One Ever Suspects the Dead Guy
An Original One-Act Play by Michael Still
Detective Mills............Jeremy Book
Madame Eclair(Nadine)......Brett Paquin
Creme Brulee(Valerie)......Lorena Leal
Proffesor Peach(Tom).......Matt Thompson
Pete Nokio(Chuck)..........Sean Malcolm
General Poutine(Sean).......Matt Dunstan
Abott Costello(Jeff)........Jim McLeod
Figure in Black/New House Owner...Chris McConville
Directed by: Mike Still
Asst. Director: Chris McConville
Stage Managers: Judson Trenholm, Chris McConville
Stage Hand: Mark Olsen
Lighting and Sound: Sean Bond and Robert Cardinal
Teacher Supervisor: Ms. W Moskowy
The curtains are closed and a spotlight is on the center of the stage. A small table with a game of Clue on it and a chair next to it is set up just to the left of the spot, hidden in the darkness. The Alfred Hitchcock theme music plays as GREGORY walks into the spotlight. He is dressed in a simple black suit and white shirt. When the music fades, he turns to the audience.
GREGORY: Good evening. Youíve arrived at a rather appropriate time, as I was just finishing up a quick game of Clue. (The spot follows him to the table where he sits and looks over a score card.) Mrs. White, Professor Plumb, Coronal Mustard. Such stereotypical characters. Have you ever noticed that all of these murder mysteries, be it a theater performance, a breezy Whodunit reader or even a board game, they all seem bound by some unshakable cliche? No matter what, the situation stays the same. A murder at an isolated mansion or hotel, a host of unrealistic and shady characters whom all could be suspects, narrated by the Inspector, the only trustworthy character of them all. Well, perhaps some spontaneity would mix well. (He returns the game to the box and tucks it in the drawer.) Keep this in mind...while you watch the next performance, a tale of murder and deceit I call... (thunder sounds. The curtains start to open) Murder Mansion.
Scene: Center stage is a decorative living room, with ornate furniture, enough seats for 7 people with a coffee table in front. Stage left is a study, with a small desk and chair and stage right is a balcony. When the play begins the lights are directed on the living room. GREGORY rolls the table he was using next to the couch and walks off stage. The characters enter and sit in this order from left to right.
Madame Eclair, Professor Peach, Creme Brulett, Pete Nokio, Ezmerelda, Admiral Poutine, Abbott Costello.
Madame Eclair is an elderly dowatcher, wearing fancy turn of the century apparel and plenty of jewelry. Professor Peach is in his middle ages, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and customary tweed jacket with leather elbow-patches. Creme Brullet wears an outfit similar to the style of Rosemary Cloony or Zsa Zsa Gabor. Pete Nokio wears white pants and a customary red and white vertical striped jacket with matching hat. He holds a ventriloquists dummy (Slappy) wearing the same. Ezmerelda wears stylized Gypsy garb with a babushka, large earrings and a bead necklace. Admiral Poutine is an elderly, grey-haired man with a bushy millitary-style mustache and Generalís Uniform with several medals pinned to it. He has a pipe in his mouth. Abbott Costello wears an oversized brown robe, similar to that of a Monk or Friar. As the music fades, they talk quietly amongst themselves. music stops)
CR…ME BRUL…E: I do hope the Inspector arrives soon. Having that poor man lying lifeless in the other room disturbs me so.
PROF. PEACH: There there, darling. Iím sure the gent shan't be too much longer.
MADAME ECLAIR: I truly am sorry. I had no idea when I decided to throw this party, it would become a night of (lightning flash) murder.
GENERAL POUTINE: Thatís quite all right, dear. After all, itís not your fault.
PETE NOKIO: Unless, of course, sheís the murderer.
ECLAIR: What are you implying, sir?
PETE: Well, if you were the killer, it would be your fault. Iím just saying we shouldnít assume youíre not the killer, because if we did, we would have to do the same for everyone else here. And, we couldnít do that because one of us is obviously the killer.
PEACH: Iím afraid heís right.
ECLAIR: This is absurd! Tell me, do you even have any experience in detective work? Ha! I didnít think so. Now, letís wait for the authorities, then they can root out the murderer. (Sound of knock at the door) Why, that must be him now. (GREGORY enters with MILLS, who is wearing a suit and plain black tie.)
GREGORY: An Inspector Watson, to see you Madame.
MILLS: Actually, itís Mills. Detective Mills.
GREGORY: Ah, I beg your pardon, monsieur. I must be bit distraught.
POUTINE: Quite understandable, good man.
ECLAIR: Indeed. Itís all right Gregory.
GREGORY: Will Madame be needing anything else?
ECLAIR: Not at the moment. Thank you, Gregory.
GREGORY: (to Mills) And you monsieur? Perhaps a pipe?
MILLS: Iím more of a cigar man.
GREGORY: Iím afraid we have none in stock.
PETE: I would lend one, Pal, but Slappy here just took the last one. (He raises his right hand, which has a dummy with a cigar in its mouth. He talks through him now in a falsetto worthy of a Dick Tracy villain, not even trying to make his lips stand still while he does the ventriloquist act)
SLAPPY: Sorry, Coppa.
MILLS: Cute. Thank you, a pipe would be fine.
GREGORY: Certainly, Monsieur. (He exits.)
ECLAIR: Oh, where are my manners. Detective, Iíd like to introduce you to my guests. This is our resident celebrity, the singing sensation of Paris, Creme Brulťe.
ECLAIR: Professor Peche.
ECLAIR: (threateningly): Peche.
PEACH: (sighing) Peche. How do you do, young man.
ECLAIR: Vaudvillian comedian and ventriloquist...
(PETE walks up and shakes MILLSí hand with his free left hand.)
PETE: Hey there, Peteís the name, Pete Nokio. And this hereís Slappy.
SLAPPY: Pleased ta make yer acquaintance.(He sits)
ECLAIR: Medium Ezmerelda.
ECLAIR: General Poutine.
POUTINE: Good on ya
ECLAIR: And our man of the faith, Abbott Costello.
COSTELLO: Greetings, my son.
ECLAIR: And, myself, Madame Eclair.
MILLS: Looks like youíve rounded up the usual suspects. Are there any others who work in the household? The butler and.....
ECLAIR: Oh yes, Gregory and a Maid. (GREGORY enters with a pipe on a silver tray.)
GREGORY: Your pipe, monsieur.
ECLAIR: Gregory, the detective would like a word with you. But, before that could you fetch the maid.
GREGORY: Yes Madame.(He leaves again)
MILLS: And the maidís name is.......let me guess, Escargot? (The guests laugh snobbishly. GREGORY enters with the MAID, who wears the typical French Maidís uniform.)
ECLAIR: Ah, no. There you are, Allamode.
MILLS: Of course.
MAID: You wanted to see me, Madame?
ECLAIR: The gentlemen from the police would like to have a word with you concerning the murder.
MAID: Of course.
MILLS: Well, first things first. Who found the body?
MAID: I did, Monsieur, while dusting in the study. I found him lying there, already dead.
MILLS: Was the door open or closed?
MILLS: And the window?
MAID: Iím not sure, Monsieur. I didnít notice.
MILLS: All right. Gregory, you go check.
GREGORY: Yes, Monsieur. (He exits)
MILLS: All right, now, did you touch anything?
MAID: I did some dusting on the bookshelf before I found him.
MILLS:Thank you. Now, please stay here, so I can ask more questions if needed. (The Maid shuffles behind the couch and stands ready, dusting the back of the couch.) Now, what was the victims name, by the way?
ECLAIR: Ceased. A Mr. D. Ceased.
MILLS: Well, good thing you phrased it that way or Iíd end up like one of Mr. Nokioís jokes. (Laughter again. GREGORY enters, flustered.)
GREGORY: Madame, the body is.....is missing
(Dramatic organ sounds (organ emphasis, as heard on Mystery radio programs plays. Mills looks around, as if trying to find the source of the noise.)
MILLS: I see. This doesnít make things easier. Now, everyone, to the scene of the crime so I can investigate with all of you in my line of site.
(All walk off stage left to the study. Costello stays behind, reaches into his robe while no one is looking, plucks out a bottle of brandy, takes a swig and hides it again, looking around nervously before going with them. Spot on the Study. Mills is examining the desk. Papers are strewn around the floor.)
MILLS: What happened with these papers?
MAID: They were thrown about like this when I got here, monsieur.
MILLS: I see. I believe this is what we call in police terms, signs of a struggle.
POUTINE: And evidence?
MILLS: Iím afraid thereís not much I can do without fingerprint dusting. Iíll have to take you all into the station for questioning. Is there a phone around here?
GREGORY:(handing Mills the phone from the desk): Right here, monsieur.
MILLS: Thank you. (He picks up the phone, listens for a second, then slams it down) Itís dead (Organ emphasis sound. Again, Mills looks around for the source)
COSTELLO: What now?
MILLS: I donít know. Iím not used to situations like these.......I suppose, the only logical thing to do is....hope that this is an isolated incident.
ALL OTHER (together): What??
MILLS: Ah, yes......we all go about our business. And, if the killer should strike a second time, well.....the list of suspects will narrow a bit, now wonít it.
CREME: There must be something else we can do.
EZMERELDA: There is.
POUTINE: And what would that be?
EZMERELDA: Iíll show you. To the living room.
(They all return to the living room and sit as a semi-circle on the floor around the table, Ezmerelda at the inside center, looking like this:
POUTINE: This is absurd! There is no way the spirits will tell you the name of the murderer.
CREME: What are you afraid of, General?
PETE: Yeah, only the murderer would object to any method that could prove his guilt.
POUTINE: Iím objecting because this is nonsense! Witchcraft, a scam, right-wing shenanigan, superstitious rubbish and plain old Tom Foolery.
ECLAIR: Calm yourself, please. Now, we forget that our actions are no longer always our will, nor are we freely democratic. Detective Miller is the one in charge now, letís see what his decision is.
MILLS: Well.....although this is highly unorthodox, not to mention inadmissible, the results could never sway my judgment in the matter. However,.....there is no harm in trying. For curiosities sake, that is.
EZMERELDA: Excellent. Shall we begin then?
MILLER: We shall. (Ezmerelda hoists a crystal ball onto the table)
EZMERELDA: Now, all of you join hands. (they each hold one anotherís hands, including Ezmerelda. She closes her eyes) Oh spirits of earthly unrest, we come to you seeking knowledge, not in jest. Within the house is one who uses gun or knife, to steal their comrades very life. With hands joined, and circle closed, we wish to have his name exposed. Speak to us, oh spirits, please, to put our troubled minds at ease. (Thunder crash) Yes, the killers name is now clear, as if whispered in my ear. We thank you for answering our game, for now I know the killerís name....(They break hands.) Of course. The killer is.......(lights shut off. Sound of Ezmereldaís scream, then a shot. The lights turn back on. Ezmerelda lies slumped on table over the crystal ball.)
COSTELLO: Good lord!
POUTINE: Check her pulse! (Mills gets up, walks over to Ezmerelda, grabs her arm, holding her wrist up and pressing his thumb against it.)
MILLS: To be quite honest, I never did learn how to take a pulse. I basically investigate murders where the victim has been pronounced dead an hour or two before I get there.
POUTINE: Good god, man, what use are you?
ECLAIR: Hush, general.
GREGORY: Well, from your assessment, monsieur, is she dead?
GREGORY: Yes, what?
MILLER: Yes she is.
GREGORY: Yes she is what?
GREGORY: Now, please, put the two together.
GREGORY: Humor me, please.
MILLS: All right. Sheís dead (organ emphasis) Where does that keep coming from?
PEACH: Well, this is just dandy. I suppose we can throw that ďisolated incidentĒ garbage out the window now.
MILLS: Everyone stay calm. We canít exactly all stay in one area for the entire night. We can....all go to our individual rooms, keep our doors and windows locked and stay on the alert.
GREGORY: And the body, monsieur?
MILLS: Keep her right there. For evidence. If itís stolen, then itís stolen. I donít want to keep an eye on it and Iím sure no one else here does. (They all leave, except Gregory, who breaks off from the group sneakily. He watches them leave before relaxing.)
GREGORY: Itís all right, theyíre gone. (EZMERELDA raises her head.)
EZMERELDA: Phew. And not a second too soon. I thought I was going to burst out laughing down there if I stayed any longer.
GREGORY: You were great, Sally. The whole rhyming thing. How did you come up with that?
EZMERELDA: Come on, Ben, I am a poetry major.
GREGORY: You should try out for acting. We could use a talent like that at the Dinner Theater.
EZMERELDA: Well, you were great too. ďYes monsieur.Ē (MAID enters.)
MAID: You two have broken character then?
GREGORY: Itís all right, Susan. As long as Nadine doesnít catch us.
MAID: Yeah. Sheís gone REALLY overboard with this whole thing.
GREGORY: Well, at least weíre having fun. That is what she intended when she planned this entire thing.
MAID: Speak for yourself. This entire outfit is just not my style.
GREGORY: I like it.
MAID: You would. Why donít you wear it then?
GREGORY: It looks much better on you anyway.
MAID: Knock it off, Ben. There are people around.
GREGORY: Just teasing, Susan. But, I am serious about the costume. Maybe ask Nadine if you can keep it afterwards.
MAID: She can spare the cash. The woman is loaded as it is.
GREGORY: Oh, here come Tom and Valerie. (CREME and PEACH enter.)
PEACH: Have you seen the rooms? There aren't even any TVs.
MAID:You know what Nadine said on the invitations.
ALL: (Together): Absolutely nothing from present day.
CREME: But she gets to keep her fancy apparel. I get to play the singer, but she still gets all the jewelry.
PEACH: Well, she is playing the wealthy dowatcher. In other words, herself. And what about me? The nerdy Professor, what a gyp. I would KILL for Chuckís roll. With Slappy, the puppet. Weíd be cracking jokes like thereís no tomorrow.
CREME: And what about the guy who plays the cop. What a terrible actor.
PEACH: I know. Why did he change names on you?
GREGORY: Beats me, I answered the door and there he was. The briefing card said his name would be Inspector Watson.
MAID: And he just strolls in, dressed to the nines, changing his name while I have to stay as Allamode the maid, in costume none the less.
PEACH: And what a costume!
CREME: What was that Tom?
PEACH: Uh, nothing Sweet pea.
CREME: I didnít think so. Uh oh, here comes Nadine. Back into character, everyone. (They each busy themselves in their role, except EZMERELDA, who slumps back on the table. ECLAIR enters)
ECLAIR: What are you all doing down here?
GREGORY: Uh....the two guests are having trouble finding their rooms.
MAID: And I was just dusting.
ECLAIR: Well then, show them their rooms. Guest rooms 3 and 5.
GREGORY: Yes Madame.(Peach holds two fingers behind ECLAIRíS head, giving her bunny ears and Gregory stifles a laugh She turns to PEACH. GREGORY mimics her while she has her back turned.)
ECLAIR: I do hope you find your rooms hospitable, Monsieur Peche. All accommodations are being provided for.
PEACH: Iím sure they will be luxurious. Thank you (chuckle) Madame.
ECLAIR: Excellent. Now, I must go. Farewell. (She leaves and the entire group burst out laughing. EZMERELDA resurfaces)
GREGORY: Oh, that was priceless.
PEACH:(mockingly): ďMonsieur Peche, Monsieur Peche.Ē Itís PEACH, you faux French fool!
CREME: Quiet, sheíll hear you.
PEACH: Let her. Maybe sheíll get it right now.
EZMERELDA: So, what happens to me again, now?
PEACH: You can leave now, if you want. Your bodyís been ďstolen,Ē remember?
EZMERELDA: Well, that wasnít on the card.
MAID: Yeah, mine said Gregís body would still be there.
GREGORY: Thatís odd. Oh well, poor Greg probably wasnít patient enough to lie on the floor all day. Canít say I blame him.
EZMERELDA: Heís probably run off to get some wine. I think Nadine scheduled our murders first so we could get back to town. We both have classes, you know.
PEACH: Iím sure youíll find him out there already, waiting to give you a ride.
MAID: Ah, itís late. Iím going to bed. Coming, Ben?
CREME: We should let some rest too. Címon Tom. (The four leave. EZMERELDA pulls a duffel bag out from underneath the table. She pulls out her jacket and pulls it on over her Gypsy costume, takes off her wig and places it in the bag and starts to put her crystal ball and other seance props in there, humming softly. As she goes through this routine, a FIGURE IN BLACK, wearing Black pants, a black sweatshirt, gloves and a balaclava stretched over their entire face comes up from stage left behind her. He puts a hand on her shoulder.)
EZMERELDA: Oh! Greg, donít sneak up on me like that. (She moves her hand up and puts it on his.) Gloves? Is it that cold out? (she half turns, sees him, lets out a scream which is soon muffled by his hand going over her mouth. He drags her off backstage. A light shining backstage casts silhouettes of the figure and Ezmerelda. The figure drops her and she starts screaming as the silhouette of an axe strikes down on her a few times, then she stops screaming and her shadow slumps down. The figure moves away.The light goes over to the balcony. ECLAIR enters and looks out at the audience. Then, MILLS enters.
ECLAIR: Oh, Detective.
MILLS: Your not staying in your room?
ECLAIR: My guests are about. And, it wouldnít be proper for a hostess to retire to her chambers before her guests now would it?
MILLS: Whatever you say maíam.
ECLAIR: Tell me, Detective, have you a key suspect in this matter?
MILLS: Yes, but Iím afraid I canít divulge any information as of now.
ECLAIR: Of course. I just hope it isnít me.
MILLS: (chuckling nervously) Oh, no. No, of course not. Why do you ask?
ECLAIR: Well, the evidence is stacked against me.
MILLS (pulling out a notepad): Oh, like what?
ECLAIR: Well, itís my house. I know where all the trap doors and secret passageways lead to. I had been seen arguing with Monsieur Ceased earlier this evening. Oh, and I was missing shortly before the body was found.
MILLS: So, in other words, you have method, motive and no alibi?
ECLAIR: Well, yes, but.....I........I didnít do it. Are you saying otherwise?!?
MILLS: Well, no, not exactly, but........
ECLAIR: You are, arenít you! You think Iím the murderer. Well, I never (she storms out, sobbing)
MILLS: Thatís what Iím not so sure of.... (CREME enters.)
CREME: Gwyneth alert. Geez, I thought Ben was supposed to be the actor.
CREME: The guy whoís playing Gregory. He works at a dinner theater back in town.
CREME: Well, of course. Oh, donít tell me your trying to stay in character too. Nadineís been a big enough pest already tonight.
MILLS: Stay in character, Nadine, Ben, playing what are you talking about?
CREME: You mean, you actually donít know.
MILLS: No, just whatís going on here?
CREME: Then who are you?
MILLS: Just as I told you, Detective Steven Mills.
CREME: Youíre a real detective?!? Oh my god. You must think weíre all complete whackos.
MILLS: I was getting that impression, yes.
CREME: This entire thing is a theme party thrown by Nadine, the one whoís playing Madame Eclair. Weíre all friends of hers.
MILLER: So, no one is actually dead?
CREME: Of course not.
MILLS: Hold on, this doesnít make any sense.
CREME: Well, sure it does. You see, Iím not Creme Brulťe. I donít even know what.....
MILLS: No, not that. The reason I was called in was that someone from this house called 911, saying there was a killer after him. Then, there was screaming and the phone went dead. He said his name was Munson.
CREME: Greg Munson?
MILLS: Thatís right. How did you....
CREME: Thatís the guy who was playing Ceased, the first guy to get offed. Heís a college student, odds are he got too liquored up and started making some prank phone calls while waiting for someone to find his body. Heís known for stuff like that.
MILLER: Well, that changes everything. No oneís dead, everythingís fine.
CREME: Yes. Do you want to end the entire charade then?
MILLER: Oh, no need for that. Iím off duty now, I suppose I can have a little fun. Besides, I want to find out who the murderer is. (The spot goes back to the living room. Costello is sitting on the couch, holding a personal television in his hands. Sounds of a football game play softly in the background.)
COSTELLO: Címon. Iíve got 500 bucks riding on this game. (PEACH enters.)
PEACH: Jeff, you know youíre not supposed to have anything modern.
COSTELLO: Forget that, I needs my football.
PEACH: Youíve got the game on?
PEACH: Well, why didnít you say so. (He stands next to Costello and puts a hand on the personal TV. The FIGURE IN BLACK enters, sneaking up behind both of them. The sounds of the game turn to cheering and PEACH grabs the personal TV and starts jumping up and down and shouting as the FIB hits Costello in the back with the axe. Costello falls to the ground, shouting as the FIB axes him.) YES! TOUCH DOWN! TOUCH DOWN! WHOOO HOO!!! ( The Figure in Black exits. PEACH stops, flips of the TV and looks down at Costello, whoís lying on the ground.) Jeff? Jeff? Hrm, that Brandy packs a powerful punch. (He exits The spot changes to the Study. POUTINE enters.)
POUTINE: Need to find a way to die. Letís see now...(he starts to look around) A knife? Too obvious. A gun? Too noisy. Suffocation? Too uncomfortable. (He notices a mug on the desk.) Aha! Poisoning! (He grabs mug and swigs some of it back) Yeck! Cold coffee. (He lies down on his back on the floor behind the desk, leaving the coffee cup on the desk. His shoulders are visible on one side of the desk, his feet on the other. The MAID enters)
MAID: Sean? Sean? (She finds his body.) Ah, good. (She stands still, clears her throat then screams, then exits. Poutine sits back up.)
POUTINE: Hehehe. (The FIB enters from the other side, carrying a knife and coming around the side of the desk. He makes stabbing motions while standing over him and Poutine groans with each stab.Then, the FIB stalks away. Eclair, Mills, Peach, Creme, Pete, Gregory, and the Maid enter.)
ECLAIR: My God, itís Poutine!
MILLS: Scratch my theory. Alright, you found him just like this?
MILLS: And, did you notice anything suspicious?
MAID: Yes. I thought I saw someone running down the west hallway
MILLS: Peaches and Cream, you go check the west wing. (Peach and Crťme leave.)
MILLS: Alright, our suspect list has gotten pretty short. Eclair, Peach, Creme, Gregory, Pete and the Maid. Thatís.......(he counts on his fingers) six.
PETE: Whoa there. Donít count our friends out just because theyíre dead.
PETE: Well, think about it. No one EVER suspects the dead guy. Faking your own death seems to be in these days. Hey Slappy, ever wondered why that is? You see I thought...
MILLS:(interrupting) ANWAYS, I think we should stick to our original plan of staying together.
GREGORY: Except, Madame Brulťe and Monsieur Peche, who you just told to investigate.
MILLS: Exactly. Well.....someone go find them.
GREGORY: I will..(He leaves)
MAID: Iíll check the other side of the house for them.
MILLS: Alright. (The Maid exits)
PETE: Iíll check the wine cellar.
MILLS: Good. (Pete exits)
ECLAIR: Iíll check the main hall.
MILLS: Perfect (She leaves. Mills strolls around the room for a minute or two, stops looks around and notices heís the only one left) Hey, wait a minute!
(He exits The lights change back to the Living Room. The Maid and Pete sit on the couch. Pete has Slappy on his lap. The MAID is obviously annoyed by Pete)
PETE:......so then I say, ďIf thats your wife, whereís the dog?Ē
SLAPPY: Hey, Petey, did I tell you I saw Shelly the ex-proffesional hunchback the other day?
PETE: Oh, is her back better?
SLAPPY:No, sheís just out of work.
PETE: Hey, Slappy, I heard you manage a Baseball team.
SLAPPY:Thatís right. Actually, I have the team roster right here.
PETE: Allright, why donít you tell me who the players are?
SLAPPY:Allright, allright. Whoís on First, Whatís on Second and Idunnoís on Third.
PETE: Whos on first?
MAID:(interrupting):Have you seen Ben around here?
PETE: Which one is that?
PETE: Nope. Hey, where is everyone anyway?
MAID: Well, everyone said they would go check rooms.
PETE: Oh yeah, Iím supposed to be checking the wine cellar. Iíd better go down there.
MAID: (relieved) You do that.(PETE leaves. The MAID She reaches over the coffee table and picks up a stack of stapled papers and flips through it. She checks her watch.) 11:45. The Script sais I was supposed to be dead by now. Finally, I can get out of this ridiculous outfit. That is, if the killer shows up.(She sets the script back inside the coffee table, taking a closer look at the topís surface) Nadine sure doesnít keep this place very clean. She should hire a.......... (She stops, then reluctantly starts dusting the table with her feather duster and humming. The FIB enters, creeping up behind her. A creaking sound is heard and he looks down at his foot.)Ben? Oh, you know you shouldnít sneak up on me like that. (She looks up at the FIB) Oh, oh, youíre the murderer aren't you? A little overboard on the costume, isnít it? Who are you anyway. Lemme guess..itís Tom isnít it? So, Professor Peach WAS the killer, I knew it. Ask Ben, I bet him 20 bucks. (He Raises the axe over his head) Wow, whereíd you get that axe? It actually looks real. (The lights go off, then we hear the Maidís scream and when the lights turn back on, The FIB is gone and the Maid lying on the floor. Slappy sits on the couch. Eclair, Mills, Peach, Creme ,Pete and Gregory enter. Peteís jacket is undone, revealing the black sweatshirt heís wearing underneath.)
MILLS: Alright, so it wasnít the maid. Scratch another theory.
ECLAIR: Good lord, this is turning into a slaughter house.
PETE: Donít you think we should know who the killer is by now?
MILLS: Iím thinking. Now......letís see.....Eany Meany Miny Moe (he points a finger at each character)
GREGORY: Ah, why bother waiting. (He pulls out a gun) I did it, Iím the killer.
MILLS: AHA! I knew it.
CREME: Oh, so the BUTLER did it?!? Very original, Nadine.
CREME: No, you know what, this is silly. When you first told us about this little game, it sounded like a fun idea, but now itís just tacky. Now, weíre all tired, so Iím just going to go to bed. (She grabs Peachís arm and drags him along) Letís go, Tom.
PETE: Not so fast!.
CREME: Get over it Chuck. Weíre leaving, are you coming or staying?
PETE: None of you are leaving!
MILLS: What are you talking about!?!
PETE: Iím the killer!
GREGORY: No, I was, remember?
PETE: No, I mean the real killer.
CREME: Thatís cute, Chucky, real cute.
PETE: You donít believe me?
ECLAIR: Sheís right, Charles, this isnít any fun anymore.
PETE: Maybe not for you. (He reaches behind the couch and pulls out the axe) But for me, the Partyís just begun. (He hits Peach with the axe. Peach falls to the ground)
CREME: Oh my God, that axe is real!
PETE: And so is the damage it does. So long, Mr. Peche. (Peach sits up, grabbing his stomach where he was hit with the axe)
PEACH: ITís PEACH! (he falls back down again)
ECLAIR: Charles, why are you doing this?
PETE: You barely even knew me, Nadine. Barely knew me, but thought it allright for you to invite me to your little party. Did you even bother to ask what Iíve been doing for the past ten years of my life? Iíll tell you, rotting away in a Mental Institute for the Criminally Insane. You invited a real murderer to a party of fake murders, problems are bound to arise. Now, to take care of the rest of you (he moves towards them)
ECLAIR: Somebody stop him! (GREGORY points his gun at PETE and fires. PETE keeps walking.)
GREGORY: Oh, yeah, it was a fake!
MILLS: Iíll handle this. (He pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket, but accidentally drops it. He and CREME fumble for it, only kicking it further. CREME moves forwards to try and grab it, but PETE gets a hold of it and shoots CREME in the stomach before she has a chance to react. She falls down, next to Peach. PETE points the gun at MILLS. Eclair moves around the couch and up to the smaller table, unnoticed.)
PETE: Goodbye, Detective. (He prepares to pull the trigger, but Eclair pushes the table into his arm. Pete twists around, falling face towards the audience, with his gun facing towards him. It goes off as he falls. The table remains closer to the front of the stage. Pete crawls to his hands and knees, pulls himself up to the couch and puts slappy on his arm. He talks as Slappy now)
SLAPPY: You think you can kill Slappy! You Canít Kill Slappy. Slappy will be back for all of you (Eclair grabs Slappy and starts to hit him) Hey, what are you doing, ouch, stop.
ECLAIR: Die! Die! (She throws Slappy out into the audience) Itís over.
MILLS: Well, this will stick out as the strangest case Iíve ever investigated.
ECLAIR: You mean your a real police officer?
MILLER: Itís a long story. Iíll fill you in at the station.
ECLAIR: Well, letís go.
MILLER: (offering his arm): Madame? (Eclair takes his arm and both exit. Gregory walks up to the front of the stage as he pushes the table back up to the front, the curtains close behind him.)
GREGORY:Well, that was our story. Perhaps, now my mind can be on the level again so I can think of my game of Clue (He unpacks the game onto the table.) One thing Iíve always noticed about this game is, no matter what the outcome of one game, the same thing happens afterwards..... the characters are set back, and the game starts again. This time, with a new killer, a new weapon and a new room. Basically, a new murder, (curtains open again. GREGORY walks off. All the characters are gone. The NEW HOUSE OWNER sits on the couch, talking on a cellular phone.)
HOUSE-OWNER: Yes, I know Sharon. Iím just trying to think of something to do for this house warming party. Of course there has to be a theme, when have I ever thrown an ordinary party? What? Someone on the other line? Allright, Iíll hold. (He sets the phone down on the coffee table) Where did I put those keys?!? (He looks around the coffee table, finding the Script) Hey, whatís this? Murder Mansion: A Game of Mystery for a Costumed Party.....