In Which the Production Is Ended

(The Narrator walks on stage wearing an Elizabethan outfit complete with a doublet and jerkin, and a hat fashioned after the head of wild ass.)

Narrator: Umm…Hello again. We talked things over with the director and writer and we're actually going to put a play that makes some sort of sense to the average person. Dontcha is the still the name of the play and it's still written by the brilliant Kohlomere. Sadly, we decided that hermaphrodites were a little over the top so we said goodbye to Jordan. But we have, however, brought into the production a very hot young man.

(The Narrator waves his arms in the air and accidentally bashes his forehead. A blond man in his twenties walks on stage with Kathy. It's rather obvious that Kathy is smitten by the newcomer.)

Kathy: Hello, we're back and we're going to pay a tribute to the Pussycat Dolls "Dontcha"! (She turns so her back faces the blond man and begins to dance wildly) Oh dontcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me-

Narrator: Kathy…don't you remember the little talk we had with Kohlomere?

(Kathy stops singing and dancing abruptly and hangs her head.)

Narrator: There's a good girl. Well, it is my entirely my pleasure to introduce to the stage for the very first time. He's like hot enough to seduce a virgin-give a round of applause to Mr. Lyle Marlow!

(Kathy and Lyle stare at the Narrator strangely.)

Lyle: Now can we get this show on the road?

The Narrator: Of course (he clears his throat pointed and Kathy takes her cue to get off of the Stage. Leading actress out of the way, he begins in a crisp British accent.) Our story begins in the Temple of Materialism, otherwise known as the Galleria. There we meet the most noble of shoe salesmen, Merit, struggling to balance school, work and the most arduous task of them all-the task of finding a suitable girlfriend.

Lyle: (striking a pose) Calculus homework is a breeze,

This job-oh please!

But I have been brought to my knees-

By the pursuit of love…ees

The Narrator: Poor Merit…little does he know, he is the object of many a woman's fantasies.

(The Narrator steps aside and a host of women come on stage. They form a loose circle around Lyle and begin to dance. After five minutes of women kicking high into the air, Lyle screams. At this, the women skulk off stage, grumbling.)

Lyle: Women right and left

Because of their lacking virtue-I am bereft

Narrator: Well, he has caught the eye of the glamorous socialite, Brianna. She, unlike those tawdry bints, didn't throw up her skirts at the mere sight of a man.

(Now in a puffy pink ballet gown, Kathy twirls on the tips of her toes over to Lyle's side. She stops when she is but a foot away from him.)

Lyle: What a beauty is she!

How happy we could be

Together she and me!

(As Lyle trilled this notes, a woman even taller than Kathy storms onto the set. She kicks the Narrator in the croch and fixes the two remaining actors with a menacing glare.)

Madwoman: (In a thick Polish accent) I am Kohlomere, the writer of this play and they have done it all wrong! This is not the Dontcha I intended! There are too many asses and they titter about this show business crap! Now they must die!

(She reaches into her coat pocket just as the curtains fall once more.)

FIN

A/N: I should probably mention the song Kathy sang when she started to dance was "Dontcha" by the Pussycat Dolls. Naturally, it isn't mine.