Benevolent! A Non-Canon Malevolent Christmas Special

BENEVOLENT:

A NON-CANON MALEVOLENT CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

Transcript adapted from script provided by Harlan and made by K.M. & jack

 

 

(BEGIN.)

 

(Joyous Christmas bells and music play. Voices murmur quietly.)

 

ANNOUNCER: Ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary friends! Welcome to Arthur and John’s Benevolent! (The audience applauds.) A non-canon Malevolent Christmas special, starring Arthur Lester and John! (Applause grows more intense.)

 

(Music cuts out and applause quiets. Wind blows quietly. A doorbell rings.)

 

ARTHUR (muffled, frustrated): Oh, right in the middle of – (A knock on the door.) Just a minute!

 

(The audience laughs. Two more doorbell rings. The audience laughs again.)

 

ARTHUR (muffled): I said, just a minute!

 

(More laughter. A knock on the door.)

 

ARTHUR (muffled, to himself): Oh, for the love of – fine! (Louder.) We’re coming!

 

(A door opens.)

 

ARTHUR (regular volume): Well, someone is impatient!

 

(The audience applauds.)

 

JOHN: Arthur, wait!

 

(Louder applause and whistles.)

 

ARTHUR (baffled): What?

 

JOHN: You can’t answer the door dressed like that!

 

ARTHUR: What's wrong with how I'm dressed?

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: The apron! It's... you should remove it first.

 

ARTHUR: The apron? Oh, well, I – (In realization.) Wait a minute. (Audience laughter. Accusatory.) You bought me this apron.

 

JOHN (matter-of-fact): I did.

 

ARTHUR (over audience laughter): As a Christmas Eve present! You said I could open it and wear it while I was cooking the turkey.

 

JOHN (smug): I sure did.

 

ARTHUR: And you assured me that it wasn't anything silly!

 

JOHN: Of course!

 

ARTHUR (sternly): John.

 

JOHN (also sternly): Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Is there something offensive or silly on this apron?

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN (slowly): Are you still blind?

 

ARTHUR: You know I am.

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: Then… no!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR (sighing): John, you – !

 

(The doorbell rings multiple times.)

 

JOHN (exasperated): The door!

 

ARTHUR: I know, I know! Hold your horses.

 

(Arthur walks and opens the door. Wind blows.)

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Telegram for Arthur and John!

 

ARTHUR: Oh, why, thank you!

 

JOHN: It's Christmas Eve, and you're out delivering mail?

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Why, of course! (Proudly.) The mail never stops!

 

ARTHUR: How much do I owe – ?

 

TELEGRAM MAN(cutting him off): Say, aren't you Arthur Lester? The famous PI and star of Malevolent?

 

(Audience laughter and applause.)

 

ARTHUR (bashfully): Well, yes. I-I suppose I am…

 

TELEGRAM MAN: And that must make the disembodied voice John!

 

JOHN (eagerly): Correct again!

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Wow, I love you guys! (Audience laughter.) You're my favorite podcast!

 

ARTHUR: Well... thank you! I really must say it's always nice to meet a fan of mine! It's not often that –

 

TELEGRAM MAN (cutting him off): Oh, no no no no no. I hate you.  

 

ARTHUR (disappointed): Oh.

 

TELEGRAM MAN: I'm a John stan!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN (matter-of-fact): Aren't they all.

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR (enough of this): Well... regardless, thank you for being a fan and thank you for the telegram! I hope you're nearly done, it's-it’s really coming down out there!

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Oh, yes, you're my last delivery! I'm heading back home for my Christmas Eve tradition of a tall glass of scotch and complaining on the Internet!

 

ARTHUR (uncertain): Oh! Good.

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Heh! And here's a bit of advice for you, my good man!

 

ARTHUR: Oh?

 

TELEGRAM MAN: Next time you answer the door, don't wear an apron that says: ‘May I suggest the sausage?’ (He laughs to himself.) Merry Christmas!

 

(Audience laughs uproariously. Arthur sighs and closes the door.)

 

ARTHUR (sternly): John.

 

JOHN (innocently): What? It's the only one that came in your size!

 

(Audience laughter.) 

 

ARTHUR: Ugh! You are incorrigible. (He sighs and walks.) Anyway, the turkey is almost done, and –

 

JOHN: The telegram!

 

ARTHUR: Oh, yes! Of course! (He tears open the telegram.) Well, what does it say?

 

(A slow piano tune plays.)

 

JOHN (reading): ‘Dear Arthur and John. Stop. The weather has grown worse. Stop. I'm afraid with how dangerous the roads have gotten. Stop.’ (Dismayed.) ‘We won't be able to make your Christmas Eve dinner!’ (The audience reacts with disappointment.) ‘Stop. Signed, all your friends and family.’ (Troubled.) No one is coming?

 

ARTHUR (shocked): But... But it's... Christmas Eve.

 

(John sighs heavily.)

 

ARTHUR (dismayed): I suppose that means we're… alone for the holidays.

 

(Audience boos.)

 

JOHN (sad): Oh, no.

 

(Wind blows. The piano music ends. A brief pause, and then sad horn music starts to play. The audience applauds.)

 

JOHN (encouragingly): Oh, come on, now. Enough of this!

 

ARTHUR (surprised): Enough of what?

 

JOHN: Feeling sorry for ourselves, Arthur!

 

ARTHUR: We've only been sitting here for a few seconds, and –

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: Look, Christmas Eve won't be as... full, as we had hoped. (Getting excited.) But that doesn't mean we can't have a good time, right?

 

(Hopeful music starts up.)

 

ARTHUR (more upbeat): I suppose not!

 

JOHN: And look… who's been through it more than us, hey?

 

ARTHUR (slowly): That's… true! We've been through far worse!

 

JOHN: Of course we have! Remember when you had your femur shattered by The King In Yellow? (Audience laughter.) The elder god that I am a fracture of?

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR (fondly): Boy, do I!

 

JOHN: And remember when you stabbed yourself in the throat just so he wouldn't win!

 

ARTHUR (excitedly): I sure do!

 

JOHN: And remember when you fell down that hole!

 

ARTHUR: Which hole?

 

(A beat.)

 

JOHN: Remember falling down holes?  (Audience laughter.) You do that all the time and you're okay, aren't you?

 

ARTHUR (to himself): The PTSD is...

 

JOHN: Aren't you!?

 

ARTHUR (back on track): Damn straight!

 

JOHN: Well then, snap out of it. (Audience applauds.) We can make this Christmas the best one yet. I know it!

 

ARTHUR: You're right, damn it! (Arthur sits at a piano, the fall board is lifted. He plays a few notes.) Nothing is going to get us down.

 

JOHN: Oh, yeah?

 

ARTHUR: How about a little bit of this to pick up the mood, eh?

 

JOHN (enthused): Oh, yeah! That's more like it!

 

ARTHUR: You know this one?

 

JOHN (chipper): Nope!

 

ARTHUR: That's okay! (Audience laughter.) The lyrics are incredibly sexist anyway! Just say it's really cold and don't let me leave.

 

JOHN: Okay!

 

(‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ begins to play. Both sing.)

 

ARTHUR: I really can’t stay…

 

JOHN: Well, Arthur, it’s cold outside…

 

ARTHUR: I’ve got to go ‘way…

 

JOHN: But, Arthur, it’s cold outside…

 

ARTHUR: This evening has been…

 

JOHN: Well, warmer than the… Cold outside…

 

ARTHUR: On quite a ride…

 

JOHN: If we hold hands, the fans would die.

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR: I wonder if we’re in a flurry…

 

JOHN: Arthur, now, what’s your hurry?

 

ARTHUR: Snow is getting higher with time…

 

JOHN: Maybe we should open some wine.

 

ARTHUR: It’s really getting out of control…

 

JOHN: If you leave, you may fall into a hole…

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR: Maybe just a half a drink more…

 

JOHN: I don’t think that we shut the door.

 

(Someone knocks at the door. Singing stops.)

 

ARTHUR (confused): Huh?

 

JOHN: The door! Arthur – Arthur! (The doorbell rings.) Someone’s at the door!

 

(Audience laughter and applause. The music ends.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh! Oh! (Calling out.) Who’s there?

 

JOHN: They’re just outside. (More knocking.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh! (Calling out.) Well, come on, in! (Arthur stands up and walks.) Who could be out in a snowstorm like this?

 

OSCAR: Someone in need of help.

 

(Upbeat Christmas music starts.)

 

ARTHUR AND JOHN (joyfully): Oscar!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR (delighted): Oscar, old friend, how are you doing? How is the church? Please, come in! (The door closes.) Warm yourself by the fire!

 

OSCAR: Thank you, thank you, boys.

 

JOHN: It's Christmas Eve, Oscar! (Growing more uncertain.) Shouldn't you be in church with the... church... goers? The – The people who believe in God… or whatever?

 

OSCAR (walking inside): Yes, John, I should, but... well... Damn it all to hell if the roads aren’t plowed.

 

ARTHUR: What do you mean?

 

JOHN (shocked): They can't get to church?

 

OSCAR (downtrodden): No, they can't. (Audience makes upset noises. A sad piano song plays.) What's more is, I have a whole group of children at the church waiting for their parents and the audience.

 

JOHN (confused): Audience?

 

ARTHUR: So you left them all there?

 

OSCAR: It's the Children's Choir performance tonight! And no one is there!

 

JOHN (intently): Well, how can we help?

 

OSCAR: No way I can think of. Unless you had a way to clear snow... or a way to bring all the visitors to the church safely.

 

ARTHUR (suddenly): Wait a minute…! (Confidently.) Wait a minute. Hm.

 

(The audience cheers.)

 

JOHN: He's got an idea.

 

(The audience cheers louder. Staccato piano music plays.)

 

OSCAR: Oh, yes! Arthur!

 

JOHN: One of Arthur's famous ideas! Come on everyone!

 

(The audience claps on rhythm.)

 

OSCAR: Use your mind!

 

JOHN: Say it!

 

OSCAR (to the rhythm): Think, Arthur, think! Think think think!

 

(Arthur hums thoughtfully on rhythm.)

 

ARTHUR (eureka): I have it!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

OSCAR: Well, what is it?

 

ARTHUR: Do you remember when we closed the tear in the universe at the Allan farm?

 

OSCAR (excitedly): Of course!

 

JOHN (upbeat): Sure do!

 

ARTHUR: Well... if we reopen it, the parents should be able to enter a gateway on their side, cross through the dimension of pain, and exit right back into the church!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

JOHN: They wouldn't even have to brave the snow!

 

OSCAR: Only the unspeakable horrors of the outer planes. (Audience laughter.) Arthur, you're brilliant! (Dismayed.) Oh, but... we don't have the book... or the pages.

 

JOHN (smugly): Don't we?

 

ARTHUR (pleased): John kept them on our shelf of oddities! (John chuckles.) Don't worry!

 

(They walk. Hopeful music plays.)

 

OSCAR: They're all here! (He sighs in relief.) Thank you, boys. This is... (The pages flip.) It's a Christmas Miracle!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: You get all those parents to their children safe and sound, okay?

 

OSCAR: I can't guarantee safe or sound, but I'll try!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: Say, Oscar…?

 

ARTHUR: Yes?

 

JOHN (not you): Oscar.

 

ARTHUR (okay): Oh.

 

OSCAR: Yes?

 

JOHN: After the concert… do you have… anywhere to be?

 

OSCAR (melancholic): Sadly… no. I don't think I have plans this Christmas Eve.

 

ARTHUR: You do now. (Growing more excited.) As soon as you're done there, you come back here for a turkey dinner that will change your life!

 

OSCAR (happily): It's a dinner date!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

JOHN: Travel safe, Oscar.

 

OSCAR: Wish me luck!

 

ARTHUR: Bye, Oscar, Bye! Goodbye! (Oscar leaves. Arthur sighs.)

 

(The door opens and shuts.)

 

ARTHUR: That felt... good!

 

JOHN (passionately): The holiday season is about helping others, Arthur! You taught me that!

 

ARTHUR: Hey, we both taught each other that.

 

(John chuckles. Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: Now. What do you say we finish up that turkey and get ready for a –

 

(The power cuts out. The audience gasps.)

 

ARTHUR (annoyed): Oh, no. What now?

 

JOHN (dismayed): The power, Arthur!

 

(Sad music begins to play.)

 

ARTHUR: No power means no radio!

 

JOHN: Or no Christmas lights!

 

ARTHUR: Or no…

 

ARTHUR AND JOHN: Christmas dinner!

 

ARTHUR: Ugh, the turkey!

 

JOHN: It’ll be ruined!

 

ARTHUR: And now we have a guest coming too!

 

JOHN (morosely): Oh, no... How are we going to get out of this mess?

 

(Music fades out. A sparkling sound, along with a sad horn instrument, begins to play. Something clicks repeatedly.)

 

ARTHUR (working on the lights): Okay... okay... are the lights on.... (A click.) Now!

 

JOHN (wearily): Nope. (Audience laughter. Arthur scoffs.) It's hopeless, Arthur. We’re many things, but handy we are not.

 

ARTHUR: Speak for yourself! I have at least one hand...

 

JOHN: And I have the other!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh, you're right. (Arthur shuts the fuse box.) Without the power, we don't have a chance in hell at finishing that turkey in time for dinner. (Tired.) Oh, damn this snow storm.

 

JOHN: It's not the weather's fault, Arthur. (John sighs.) It's mine.

 

(Audience starts to boo.)

 

ARTHUR: What? Why?

 

(Melancholic music begins to play.)

 

JOHN: Well... I never told you this… but. Well. A part of me wanted Christmas… just with you and me.

 

ARTHUR (sympathetically): John.

 

(Music cuts abruptly.)

 

JOHN: As friends. (Audience laughter.) Canonically just friends.

 

ARTHUR: Of course.

 

JOHN: That part of this is canon.

 

ARTHUR: Obviously.

 

(Melancholic music begins again.)

 

JOHN: But, you know... it feels like having a little time to chat about everything that's happened, and-and reminisce about the year... Well, it felt like that's what Christmas was about.

 

ARTHUR (considering): Well, you're not wrong.

 

JOHN: After all, this is my first... real Christmas.

 

(Audience gasps.)

 

ARTHUR: Wait. (Surprised.) You're so right! How did I not realize it!

 

JOHN: I mean, I was there when Jesus was crucified –

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR (cutting him off excitedly): Well, we need to give you a proper Christmas, along with the lights on the trees and the smell of roast turkey. (Determined.) Come hell or high water!

 

JOHN (gratefully): Thanks, Arthur. (Audience applauds.) But… what can we do?

 

ARTHUR (sighing): I don't know.

 

JOHN: What we really need is a –

 

(The doorbell rings repeatedly. Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR: Another visitor? It’s so late!

 

JOHN (stunned): Almost dinner time!

 

ARTHUR: Should we let them in?

 

JOHN: I don't see why not!

 

(Arthur walks.)

 

ARTHUR: Who is it?

 

STRANGER (muffled): An old friend.

 

JOHN (confused): An old friend?

 

ARTHUR: Well, the season is about friends, after all.

 

JOHN: Let him in!

 

(The door opens.)

 

EDDIE: Heya, boys!

 

ARTHUR AND JOHN: Eddie!

 

(Audience applauds. Eddie chuckles.)

 

ARTHUR: Eddie! We thought that we –

 

EDDIE: Killed me? (Eddie laughs.) I know. Funny thing about that, see. I was d –

 

ARTHUR: Eddie, you have the most perfect timing!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

EDDIE (laughing): I guessed as much. I was walking by the house and I saw that your Christmas lights weren't on and I thought... if anyone needs a little Christmas cheer, it's Arthur Lester and that rascal inside his noggin, John!

 

ARTHUR (relieved): You're a godsend, Eddie!

 

EDDIE (heh): It ain't God who sent me!

 

ARTHUR: Well! The box is over here by the booksh –

 

EDDIE: No need! (He starts to walk.) Just need to get up against a wall here and, uh…

 

(Eddie thumps the wall. Electricity hums.)

 

JOHN: The lights! They're back on! Eddie, you fixed the power!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: Eddie! You're a miracle worker!

 

EDDIE (humbly): What can I say! I'm a maintenance man for a reason!

 

ARTHUR: Wow, Eddie! We don't know how to thank you.

 

JOHN: Where are you headed now?

 

EDDIE: Oh, nowhere in particular. I hear there's a good bar down the street I may drink my sorrows away at…

 

(Hopeful music starts to play.)

 

ARTHUR (seriously): Eddie.

 

JOHN: Mm-hmm.

 

ARTHUR: John and I would be honored if you would stay and have dinner with us tonight.

 

(Audience gasps.)

 

EDDIE (shocked): You mean it? No foolin’?

 

JOHN (sincerely): Of course we mean it. It's the least we can do after I killed you!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

EDDIE: Wow. Thanks boys. You really are all about the spirit of giving this year. What the hell, I'll do it! (Audience applauds.) Let me just drop my stuff off at the car and I'll be back in time for the bird to hit the dinner table.

 

ARTHUR: We can't wait.

 

JOHN: Thanks, Eddie.

 

EDDIE: Thank you two! (He starts to walk.) This is truly a Christmas miracle! See you soon!

 

(The door opens and shuts behind him.)

 

ARTHUR: Well, it looks like our holiday fiasco is turning out to be quite the event!

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

JOHN: Oscar, Eddie... hey! Maybe it won't be too quiet after all!

 

(Audience gasps.)

 

ARTHUR (placating): I'm sorry... I-I know you wanted –

 

JOHN: No, Arthur. What I really want is an authentic Christmas experience... and that's exactly what we're going to have!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: You're damn right! Well, with the power back on, I might as well go and check on the turkey!

 

JOHN: Good call.

 

(Arthur walks. He opens the oven.)

 

ARTHUR (muffled): OUCH!

 

(Audience gasps. Objects clatter at a distance.)

 

JOHN (muffled): Arthur!

 

ARTHUR (normal volume, in pain): Ow ow ow ow ow!

 

JOHN (worriedly): Arthur, what happened?

 

ARTHUR: The damn turkey! I burnt my hand taking it out of the oven!

 

(Audience reacts sadly with some scattered boos.)

 

JOHN: Oh no! Are you okay?

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I suppose so, but… (Arthur sighs.)

 

JOHN: But what?

 

ARTHUR: I don't think I can… play piano!

 

(Audience gasps.)

 

JOHN (gasping): But you could play previously when I had control of the hand. (ARTHUR: Shh!) (Audience laughter.) You didn't have control, but somehow you played with both hands in the music store – (Arthur continues to shush John. Audience laughter.) Well. (John sighs.) That's okay, right?

 

ARTHUR (upset): What is Christmas without music, John? (A melancholic tune begins.) It's the most important part – to me at least. All the beautiful soft melodies and tunes you hum year round. (He sighs.) But I just... I don't think I can play.

 

JOHN (hopefully): We'll have to find another solution. I'm sure something will happen.

 

(A pause. Someone coughs.)

 

JOHN (louder): I'm sure something will ha –

 

(The doorbell rings.)

 

JOHN: Yeah.

 

ARTHUR (surprised): Another person trapped in the storm?

 

JOHN: Should we ignore it?

 

ARTHUR: It's Christmas Eve, let's help them out.

 

JOHN (determined): Agreed!

 

(Audience gasps in curiosity.)

 

ARTHUR: Hello?

 

STRANGER: Hey, guys! (Upbeat Christmas bells ring.)

 

JOHN (excitedly): Wow! It's holiday recording artist Kristian Noel Pedersen!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

KRISTIAN: H-Hey, how are you? (Door close. He steps inside.) Yeah, my van broke down out front and I saw the Christmas lights. They're so bright and beautiful. I just had to come in… and also see if I could use your phone.

 

(Audience laughter.)

 

ARTHUR: We don't have a phone, but… we do have Christmas Spirit in abundance. (Dejected.) Only…

 

(Audience boos.)

 

KRISTIAN: Only what, Arthur?

 

JOHN: Only Arthur's hurt his hand and can't play piano!

 

ARTHUR (downtrodden): And what is Christmas without…?

 

KRISTIAN (agreeing): Without music.

 

ARTHUR: Exactly.

 

JOHN: You get it.

 

KRISTIAN: Well... I'm no Arthur Lester on the keys, but if you'd like... I’d be happy to perform one of my songs from my new album here, for you all tonight.

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR (excitedly): Wow! Would you!? Really!?

 

JOHN (taken aback): You can't be serious.

 

KRISTIAN: Of course I'm serious... serious about Christmas and spreading holiday cheer!

 

(Audience laughter. John laughs.)

 

ARTHUR: We'd be honored, Kristian. What do you need?

 

KRISTIAN: Nothing but a piano. (Kristian walks over to the piano and lifts the fall board.) Ah, here we are! I hope this puts you in the holiday mood, boys!

 

(Kristian plays ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’.)

 

KRISTIAN (singing): ‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light… from now on, our troubles will be out of sight… have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay… from now on, our troubles will be miles away… here we are, as in golden days, happy golden days, of yore… faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us, once more.

 

Through the years, we all will be together, if the Fates allow… hang your shining star up on the highest bough… and have yourself a merry little Christmas, now.’

 

(Audience applauds. Kristian steps away from the piano.)

 

ARTHUR: Wow! Thank you, Kristian! That was remarkable!

 

JOHN: It put me right in the mood, I can't believe how lucky we are!

 

ARTHUR: Do you need to use the phone still or –

 

KRISTIAN: You know what, Arthur? That song put me in such a good Christmasy mood, that I think I'll just enjoy the snow and walk to my mother-in-law’s house.

 

(Audience reacts with surprise.)

 

ARTHUR: You're sure?

 

KRISTIAN: Of course! After all, it's Christmas Eve! I'd rather enjoy the lights and winter wonderland!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

JOHN: Sounds pretty magical to me.

 

KRISTIAN: You know what I say: there's always a bit of magic around Christmas. (A magical sparkling noise. Audience reacts with wonder. Kristian goes to the door.) 

 

ARTHUR: Thank you, Kristian, you saved this Christmas Eve.

 

KRISTIAN (laughing): No, thank you guys! You made my Christmas that much more benevolent. (Audience laughter.) See you soon, boys!

 

(The door opens and shuts behind Kristian.)

 

JOHN (eagerly): Bye, Kristian!

 

ARTHUR (half-second behind): Bye, Kristian.

 

ARTHUR (sadly): Well. (Melancholy music plays.) The turkey's almost ready. The mashed potatoes and branclüten are all but done...

 

JOHN (worried): Are you okay? You… seem a little sad.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): There's an empty chair tonight. (Audience reacts sadly.) No matter who couldn't come or-or will come... it'll still be empty.

 

JOHN: Hm. I think I know whose chair that belongs to.

 

ARTHUR: It's always a difficult time of year. But I know deep down that... uh. (A beat. Someone coughs.) But I know... deep down... that, uh. (Whispers.) Oh my god. Oh my god. (Quietly, to John.) What… What is the line?

 

JOHN (quietly): I don't know.

 

ARTHUR (quietly): Uh, it's something about... I-I don’t know, deep down that I'm not alone or something. (Panicking.) Fuck – Fuck… Fuck!

 

JOHN (stressed): Just make it up! (Arthur grunts.) Quickly, before – !

 

KAYNE (at a distance): Cut!

 

(Arthur gasps in fear.)

 

JOHN (angry): God damn it.

 

(Footsteps, growing closer.)

 

KAYNE (melodramatically): Three hours I gave you. Three whole hours while I assembled this... audience. (The audience applauds. Kayne abruptly cuts them off.) Tut tut! Daddy's talking. (To Arthur.) You couldn't learn three thousand simple words. Arthur Lester, come now. This is easy! (A soft thud, followed by flipping of pages.) Look, look, look! (Reading.) ‘The chair, but I know deep down that I'm never alone.’ (Furious.) Never alone!

 

ARTHUR (browbeaten): S-Sorry, Kayne, I-I –

 

KAYNE (mocking): I-I-I –

 

JOHN: Kayne, he –

 

KAYNE (furious): Zip it, Sparkles! You two are just lesser versions of the man himself so play your parts, how I write them... (Passionately.) And make it sing!

 

ARTHUR: We're trying our best –

 

KAYNE: What did I just say!?

 

JOHN: Don't, Arthur! He's just going to –

 

KAYNE: Blow up your heads and replace you with another version of Arthur from another timeline? (Growling.) Yes. You took the words right out of my mouth, yellowjacket. Now! Look! (His voice echoes.) You've made the audience uncomfortable. Look at all their bleeding faces. Oh, you know how long it took me to make them? (Audience laughter. Furious.) Look at them! Mindless, empty shells. (A shuddering sigh. He walks. More calmly.) Alright, you know what? Rewrites. (A snap of his fingers, a poof, and papers flip.) Just read from this. I rewrote the ending to have a little more… (Eagerly.) Color. ‘Cause, well, let's face it, you boys are just a bit… milquetoast.

 

JOHN (confused): Milk… toast?

 

KAYNE (walking away): Take it from after Kristian leaves. Okay? Okay, good. (To the audience.) And you all! Forget you saw any of this.

 

(An electric woosh. Audience applauds. Melancholy piano music plays. John and Arthur recite their lines stiltedly.)

 

ARTHUR: Ah, um, well… The turkey's almost ready. The mashed potatoes and branclüten are all done, but...

 

JOHN: Are you okay. You seem a little sad.

 

ARTHUR: There's a chair empty tonight. No matter who couldn't come or will come, it'll still be empty, because –

 

(Doorbell rings.)

 

JOHN (with a burst of forced excitement): We should get the door!

 

ARTHUR (awkwardly): Yes.

 

(Arthur walks and opens the door.)

 

ARTHUR: Wait, John. That chair won't be empty anymore.

 

JOHN: Why?

 

ARTHUR: He’s finally come.

 

JOHN (excitedly): Kayne! You're here!

 

(Audience applauds, cheerful Christmas music plays.)

 

KAYNE: Hey, boys!

 

ARTHUR: Kayne!

 

KAYNE: I couldn't miss out on another holiday event with my boys!

 

ARTHUR: I'm so glad you came! Finally! After all these years!

 

KAYNE: I just wanted to see you, Arty! And look, I brought Eddie and Oscar!

 

EDDIE: Hey, I’m here too!

 

OSCAR: Hey, Arthur, John! I hope it's okay, I brought the kids with me from the Children's Choir! (EDDIE: Where can I sit? (In relief.) Aw, yeah.) Their flesh has melded with the alien world upon moving through the outer dimension. (Audience laughter.) But their voices can sing, still!

 

KAYNE: Shall we hear them sing?

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: Yes, sing a song! For all of us!

 

CHILDREN’S CHOIR (singing discordantly): ‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way… oh, what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh, hey!’

 

(The bells end abruptly. The audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: Wow. (Hopeful piano music plays.) Well, it turns out that this is the best Christmas Eve ever. With Eddie, Oscar... and even Kayne. John... do you feel the spirit?

 

JOHN (exuberantly): More than ever, Arthur!

 

(Audience applauds.)

 

ARTHUR: Well, then, I suppose we should all sit down for dinner. (Wooden chairs scrape against the floor.) And from our Malevolent family to yours…

 

ALL: Merry Christmas!

 

(Arthur chuckles. The audience applauds.)

 

KAYNE: Well done, everyone! Well done! (Drawing it out.) Aaand, scene!

 

(The music draws to a close. Everyone’s heads explode. Gore drips.)

 

KAYNE (stepping through gore): Ah, excuse me.

 

(He pulls out a chair and sits. He chews and swallows loudly.)

 

KAYNE (scathingly): Well, it’s a little dry, Arthur.

 

(He burps.)

 

(END.)