"Alright, is everyone here?"

The multicolored-haired girl shrugged, "Even if they aren't, I'm going on anyway."

"Quiet," The black-haired girl snapped. "Let's do a role-call or something."

Nodding, the brunette adjusted her glasses, "Megara?"

"Oui!" The blonde Parisian called out.

"Linnya?"

"It's Zepta. Yeah, I'm here," Said the colorful-haired extraterrestrial.

"Elizabeth?"

A hand waved rapidly, "Call me Liz, by the way!"

"Zaydia?"

"Zay; Yep!" She adjusted the hair over her scarred, brown eye, leaving her blue one exposed.

"Oliver?"

"Here." The chestnut-haired boy smiled.

The brunette nodded, "And Mayble, or May, which is me...Alright, so we've got the main six here, what about our backgrounders?"

Several people shouted something or just waved their hands to acknowledge their presence.

"Good."

The voice of the announcer came through, saying the introduction they had asked for, "And now the six merry murderesses of the Crookem County Jail, in their rendition of 'The Cell Block Tango'."

May looked to the four other girls and Oliver, "You ready?"

Zepta rolled her eyes, "Just go out there."

Nodding, the group all strolled onto the stage, in the order of Oliver, Liz, Zepta, Meg, Zay, and May.

They all struck poses in the darkness.

The light hit Oliver, showing him in the striped prison shirt and leather jacket. A gun was in his hand.

"Pop..."

It faded and then shined onto Liz, wearing something identical. A bottle was in her hand.

"Six..."

It went out and moved to Zepta, who had a sharp silver blade in her grasp with flecks of red across it.

"Squish..."

Then it shined on Meg, who looked terrified, her wrists locked together in handcuffs.

"Uh-uh..."

Zay looked a mess, red splattered across her forehead and cheeks, flecked across her shirt, and drenching her hands.

"Cicero..."

May held a length of rope as she grit out a last name.

"Lipschitz..."

The spotlight faded again, until it went back to Oliver and went down the line from there, all of them saying their line a little more quickly.

Oliver tensed his finger on the trigger.

"Pop."

Liz swirled the contents of the bottle around.

"Six."

Zepta's grip on the knife tightened.

"Squish."

Meg pulled at her handcuffs and shook her head.

"Uh-uh."

Zay looked down at her reddened hands.

"Cicero."

May pulled the two ends of the rope away from each other, yanking it taut.

"Lipschitz."

Oliver brought the gun upward so he could stare down the top of it, aiming.

"Pop!"

Liz slammed the bottle down onto the stage, shattering it.

"Six!"

Zepta jabbed the knife into the air.

"Squish!"

Meg pulled frantically at her wrists' restraints, tears welling in her eyes.

"Uh-uh!"

Zay smirked a little as she tasted the red liquid on her hand.

"Cicero!"

May mimed putting her rope around someone's neck and pulling backward.

"Lipschitz!"

All of them stepped forward, each moving in sync.

"He had it coming."

They placed their hands on their hips.

"He had it coming."

The group looked to each other, shrugging, feigning innocence.

"He only had himself to blame."

Then they turned to the audience.

"If you'd have been there."

They all pointed to the crowd.

"If you'd have seen it."

They lowered their hands, looking at one another and shrugging before looking back to everyone else.

"I betcha you would have done the same."

Oliver.

"Pop."

Liz

"Six."

Zepta.

"Squish."

Meg.

"Uh-uh."

Zay.

"Cicero."

May.

"Lipschitz."

As the others faded into the darkness, Oliver stood in the spotlight, toying with his jacket.

"You know how people have these little habits that get you down?"

He looked up thoughtfully.

"Like… Bernie."

He grit his teeth, clearly irritated by just the sound of his name.

"Bernie liked to chew gum-"

Then he paused, tapping his bottom lip.

"No, not chew..."

Oliver looked into the crowd, fire alive in his emerald eyes.

"Pop."

He started pacing the edge of the stage, tapping the gun against his palm.

"So, I come home this one day and I'm really irritated and I'm lookin' for a little bit of sympathy."

A figure with thick, dark curls walked out onto the stage.

"And there's Bernie..."

He pointed to him as he sat down lazily, his mouth clearly moving.

"Lyin' on the couch, drinkin' a beer and chewin'-"

He stopped and glared at the boy.

"No, not chewin'..."

A distinct pop was heard and he growled.

"Poppin'!"

He walked over to the boy, still facing the audience.

"And, I said to him, I said, "You pop that gum one more time"..."

Another pop was heard, and he sighed.

"And he did."

Oliver lifted the gun up from his side and held it with both hands.

"So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots…"

He held it up to his face, one eye closed, and aimed it at the curly-haired boy. Two loud blasts came from the stage, and the boy collapsed to the ground. Oliver lowered the gun, a smirk on his face.

"Into his head."

The lights came on showing the rest of the girls again. Oliver stepped back to join them.

"He had it coming."

They pointed to the boy laying limp across the stage.

"He had it coming."

The group of teens shrugged, stepping backward.

"He only had himself to blame."

They pointed to their captivated audience again, eyes glimmering with delight.

"If you'd have been there,"

One patted Oliver on the shoulder sympathetically.

"If you'd have heard it."

They all nodded, making room for one of them to step forward.

"I betcha you would have done the same."

As the lights faded behind her, Liz stood, hands on her hips.

"I met Ezekiel Young from Salt Lake City about two years ago."

A boy wearing a bright red jacket walked onto the stage. The boy held out one hand to her, smirking mischievously.

"He told me he was single.,"

She smiled and took it, as he pulled her close to him.

"And we hit it off right away."

He twirled her and then dipped her low, dark hair brushing the stage.

"So, we started living together."

He lifted Liz upright, and then walked off to one side, looking around idly.

"He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd fix him a drink, we'd have dinner."

Liz cracked her knuckles and growled eyeing the boy on the opposite side of the stage.

"Then I found out, single, he told me?"

She looked away from him, sitting down next to the drawn curtain.

"Single, my ass."

She grit her teeth as she looked back over to him, the growl still clear in her voice.

"Not only was he married, oh, no,"

She held up six fingers to the audience.

"He had six wives."

Rolling her eyes, she reached behind the curtain, grabbing a wine bottle. The label wasn't visible.

"One of those Mormons, you know."

She stood and walked back to the center of the stage, meeting the brunette boy.

"So that night, when he came home,"

Liz handed him the bottle, a small smile on his face. He took a drink, not noticing.

"I fixed him his drink, as usual."

He made a choking sound and then collapsed upon the stage, dropping the bottle as he went.

She bent down and picked up the bottle, turning it so the skull on the label was able to be seen.

"You know, some guys just can't hold their arsenic."

Tossing the bottle onto the stage again, she walked back over to the group that were illuminated by the stage lights again.

"He had it coming,"

They jutted their thumbs out to the collapsed brunette.

"He had it coming."

They placed their hands over their hearts and sunk down to their knees, as if they were wilting.

"He took a flower in its prime."

Each slammed one fist down onto the wood.

"And then he used it,"

Down went the other fist.

"And he abused it,"

They all stood up, backing into the shadows again as the lights faded.

"It was a murder, but not a crime."

The spotlight fell onto Zepta, who was twirling her blade lazily.

"Now, I'm standing in the kitchen,"

She walked across the stage, waving the knife from side to side.

"Carvin' up the chicken for dinner,"

Stopping, the disguised alien princess shrugged, feigning innocence.

"Mindin' my own business."

A boy ran onto the stage looking furious.

"When all of a sudden, in storms my husband Wilbrin in a jealous rage."

He marched towards her, mouthing the words as she said them.

"'You been screwin' the milkman', he says."

She backed up as he continued to stalk toward her.

"He was crazy, and he kept on screamin',"

The boy threw his arms up into the air, mouthing the words again.

"'You been screwin' the milkman!'"

He ran forward, grabbing Zepta by the shoulders, and then stopped short, as she smirked.

"And then he ran into my knife."

The boy sank down onto the ground, as she waved the knife dangerously.

"He ran into my knife ten times."

She threw the blade downward, narrowly missing the head of the fallen boy, as she stepped back to join the others.

"If you'd have been there,"

The group grit their teeth.

"If you'd have seen it."

They pointed out to the audience again, fires dancing behind each of their eyes.

"I betcha you would have done the same."

The girls and Oliver all stepped back, leaving Meg standing there, teary-eyed and handcuffed.

"Que fais-je ici?"

She reached up and hit the side of her head with one bound hand.

"Il est dit que le célèbre Lac tenait Mon mari a claqué sur la tête."

She shook her head rapidly.

"En Mais ce n'est pas vrai,"

She looked at all of them with pleading eyes.

"Je suis innocent!"

Then she looked down, clearly confused and hurt.

"Je ne sais pas parce que l'Oncle Sam dit que je l'ai fait..."

Meg looked back up, holding out her hands.

"J'ai essayé de la police à expliquer,"

Then she sighed and looked down, shaking her head once more.

"Mais ils n'ont pas le comprendre..."

A light shined upon Zay, who placed her hands on her hips, "Yeah, but did you do it?"

Meg looked back up at her, speaking English for the first time.

"Uh-uh, Not guilty!"

Meg backed into the darkness, as Zay took the floor.

"My sister Veronica and I had this double act,"

A girl twirled onto the stage, strawberry-blonde hair fanning out behind her. She came to a stop beside Zay.

"And my husband, Charlie traveled around with us."

A boy with shaggy brown hair a bright red eyes strolled into the spotlight beside the two girls.

"And for the last number in our act,"

The girl jumped up into the air, and Zay grabbed her around the waist.

"We did these 20 acrobatic tricks in a row."

Zay lifted her higher into the air, until she planted her feet down onto her shoulders. She leaped off of Zay and onto the ground, landing in a perfect split.

"One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles,"

The girl did each of the tricks as Zay listed them off.

"Backflips, flip flops,"

She gave another spin before finally finishing, and taking a bow.

"One right after the other."

Standing up to her full height again, the girl and the red-eyed boy stood beside Zay.

"Well, this one night we were down in the hotel Cicero,."

She put her arms around each of them as glasses were tossed from behind the curtain on each side of the stage.

"The three of us, boozin',"

The two caught the glasses expertly and started laughing silently, drinking the contents of each cup.

"Havin' a few laughs,"

Then they both stopped, looking down at their glasses disappointedly.

"And we ran out of ice."

Zay unhooked her arms from the pair's shoulders, and walked away from them.

"So, I go out to get some."

She walked behind one of the curtains for a moment, before returning.

"I come back, open the door,"

She gasped, her visible eye going wide.

"And there's Veronica and Charlie,"

The boy had lifted up the girl by the waist, so her legs were up near his face, and spread out wide, and her face were down between his legs.

"Doing number seventeen- the spread eagle."

Zay fanned herself lightly, as the entire stage went out, except for her spotlight.

"Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing."

She rubbed her forehead, looking pained as she walked across the blackened stage.

"It wasn't until later,"

She looked down at her bloodied clothes, and then her drenched palms.

"When I was washing the blood off my hands,"

A twisted smile appeared on her face as the lights onstage came back on, showing the boy and the girl both collapsed and bleeding.

"I even knew they were dead."

The group was revealed once again, as Zay led them.

"They had it coming!"

She pointed to the fallen pair.

"They had it coming!"

She clenched her fists, looking enraged.

"They had it coming all along!"

Zay shook her head, gritting her teeth as she did.

"I didn't do it."

She glared at the audience, a few of them shrunk down in their seats.

"But if I'd done it,"

Zay stomped her foot to add emphasis to her final words before she stepped back to join everyone else.

"How could you tell me that I was wrong?"

She led them again from where she stood, repeating her verse once more before becoming silent and letting May take the floor.

May stood alone on the stage, twisting her rope around each of her wrists.

"I loved Al Lipschitz more than I could possibly explain."

A boy walked out from the stage, going to meet May with a small smile. Looking down, he picked up a sketchbook that lay untouched upon the wooden stage.

"He was a real artistic guy,"

Removing the brush from behind his ear, he set to work.

"Sensitive,"

After a few moments, he turned the artwork towards the audience, revealing a beautiful rendering of a rose.

"A painter."

May stopped smiling as the boy walked past her.

"But he was always trying to find himself."

She rolled her eyes as she followed him, adjusting her glasses.

"He would go out every night looking for himself, and on the way,"

May ran her tongue along her top teeth as she ticked off one finger, listing off each of the names.

"He found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary and Irving."

May shrugged, unwinding the rope from her wrists.

"I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences."

She threw it over the head of the boy, who hadn't looked up from his work.

"He saw himself as alive,"

She pulled back once the rope was around his throat.

"And I saw him dead."

Once the boy collapsed, May picked up her rope and stepped back to join the others.

"The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum."

They ran out to the very edge of the stage, a few of them spinning as they went.

"The dirty bum, bum, bum, bum, bum!"

Each of them spread their arms wide, pointing to a different area of the stage.

"They had it comin'."

The stage lit up, showing each of their victims littered across the floor.

"They had it comin'."

They lowered their hands, and looked back at the fallen people.

"They had it comin' all along."

Turning back to the audience, they pounded one foot.

"'Cause if they used us,"

Then the other.

"And they abused us,"

All of them placed their hands on their hips, giving the crowd a questioning glare.

"How could you tell us that we were wrong?"

Turning away, each of the girls and Oliver walked over to their victim. Except for Meg, who followed Zay.

"He had it coming."

Oliver bent down, and picked up the gun he had used earlier.

"He had it coming."

Liz grabbed the bottle she had dropped beside the brunette.

"He only had himself to blame."

Zepta pulled the knife up from the stage.

"If you'd have been there."

Meg looked down at her handcuffs helplessly, and Zay eyed her two victims with a look of disgust.

"If you'd have seen it."

May twirled her rope, smiling down at the suffocated boy.

"I betcha you would have done the same."

Oliver walked back to the front of the stage, tapping the gun against his palm.

"You pop that gum one more time."

Liz swirled the contents of the bottle as she followed him.

"Single my ass."

Zepta ran her fingers along the top of her knife, joining the two.

"Ten times."

Meg sighed, following Zepta, and looking tearful.

"Pourquoi Oncle Sam fermé la prison?"

Zay smiled at her blood-stained hands, walking to the front of the stage.

"Number seventeen- the spread eagle."

May spun her rope around her wrists, smirking, and joined the others.

"Artistic differences."

They all looked between one another, and then back to the audience, each giving a shrug.

"I betcha you would have done the same."

Oliver lowered his gun.

"Pop."

His spotlight went out, and Liz set the bottle down behind her.

"Six."

She faded into the dark, as Zepta dropped her knife.

"Squish."

Zepta vanished, and Meg sighed, finally giving up the struggle between her and the handcuffs.

"Uh-uh."

Meg disappeared into the blackness, and Zay lowered her hands.

"Cicero."

Zay's light went out, and May tossed the rope onto the ground.

"Lipschitz."

May vanished into the dark, and the stage was silent.


1) I know the different language part was supposed to be in Hungarian, but my character, Meg, fit the role very well, and she only spoke French, so I had to change it.

2) Meg couldn't have put her hands on her hips like I wrote they did, since she was handcuffed, but it wouldn't have been written as smoothly if I mentioned how she couldn't.

Cast:

Oliver Miller - Liz (Property of Gia)

Elizabeth Goldstein - Annie (Property of Really Big Hat)

Princess Linnya Zepta - June (Property of Gia)

Megara Monroe - Hunyak (Property of Gia)

Zaydia Tennant - Velma (Property of Gia)

Mayble Monroe - Mona (Property of Gia)

Neil Praetor - Ernie (Property of Gia)

Jonathan Tyler - Ezekiel Young (Property of Gia)

Wuain - Wilbrin (Property of HyperHearts58)

Vixamon O'Hara - Charlie (Property of Gia)

Gem - Veronica (Property of Gia)

Jerinal Gernatox Atoms - Alvin Lipschitz (Property of Gia)

Tell me what you thought! I always love positive reviews, they make me so happy :D And constructive criticism is really helpful, too.

I have tons of songs I can work with, so this will be continued, don't even worry about it :P If you have a song you want me to use, just let me know, I always read my reviews.

Thanks for taking the time to read!

~ Gia