Intermezzo

INTERMEZZO

Transcript made by jack

CWs: discussions of child/parent death/torture, drowning

 

(BEGIN Intermezzo.)

 

(Rainfall, with the occasional booming thunder. The sound of wet footsteps.)

 

KAYNE: Let’s start with a story! Shall we? (A slow piano melody begins.) So, this Order of the Fallen Star. It’s been around for quite a while, really. And a couple of hundred years ago. (Fake posh accent.) Before all these little futile, meaningless, money-grubbing little shits joined Daddy’s Boys Club, they had… nobler goals. (He walks.)

 

Three of their best and brightest were given a holy mission to find the most coveted.  (Dramatically.) The most powerful, the most… (The piano music abruptly cuts out.) You know what? It was the Black Stone.

 

ARTHUR (uncertainly): The… Black Stone. 

 

KAYNE: Yes. You’ve seen it. (The piano melody resumes.) Well, not it it, but! You saw a painting of it, in Larson’s little… house! Didn’t you? 

 

JOHN: How did…?

 

KAYNE: Nope! Cut the house. (Exuberantly.) Look, kids, for expediency’s sake, let’s just assume I know it all! But don’t call me a know-it-all! (He cackles.)

 

ARTHUR: The Order was…

 

KAYNE: Be-neath Larson’s mansion, yes. And those three statues you found, those Three Soldiers…

 

JOHN: The ones in the Dreamlands.

 

KAYNE: Entie, Erwin, and Neitsh! Those stooges! They were the ones sent to retrieve the stone, only… they got a little distracted on the way. One of them fell into the power-hungry mindset that seems oh-so-prevalent with these… Order boys. And tried to bring about Shub-Niggurath! My… well, she’s… cousin, maybe? On Dad’s side, for sure. Anyhoo! 

 

They failed. And Antoine… (Muttering.) You remember him, right? Lighthouse boy! Not the lighthouse guy, but… the one who lived under it, and… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Suffice to say, they didn’t find the Stone. 

 

JOHN: Antoine. That was who Amanda Cummings was –

 

ARTHUR: He was who Anna Stanczyk was –

 

KAYNE (miffed): Ugh. Every time you pronounce that name… yes, yes, right. The big picture is that these boys, these Three Soldiers… well, they didn’t find the Stone. See. And well… that’s a problem. For me. 

 

JOHN: For you?

 

ARTHUR: What do you want with the Stone?

 

KAYNE: Why doesn’t matter. Not now. Not yet. 

 

JOHN: Can’t you just… get it? 

 

ARTHUR: You can do…

 

KAYNE: Anything!? (Arthur exhales.) Almost! But see… this Stone… (Frustrated.) This stupid, fucking Stone… it’s… just out of my eyeline! I can’t… get it! Something about it just… can’t be seen. Bah! It just makes me so mad! (He cackles.)

 

ARTHUR: If the Soldiers were sent to find it, clearly someone within the Order knows where it was.

 

KAYNE: Knew, yes! Look. (Commiserating.) Just for the sake of ease, I can’t see it. Okay? I don’t have that… something. (He chuckles.) I just can’t. Okay? 

 

ARTHUR: Okay, okay. 

 

JOHN: But surely someone can.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, there are… plenty of things that can… the Vanguard is…

 

KAYNE (dramatically): The Vanguard! Oh, God, your little tooth? Oh, Arthur. (He tsks.) Such a powerful being, so under-utilized! Give it a mouth, will you? Let it join in on the conversation, for once.

 

JOHN (breathless): What?

 

KAYNE: No. No, no, no. Not that… thing. No, some people can see my Black Stone when they touch that little gray rock back there. But only some. 

 

JOHN: Like who?

 

KAYNE: Well! Some little shit-kicker kid did. And then he found out where it was, and then I had my own plans, and I did find out eventually, but… if I had… been such a… (He rambles to himself. Static rises in the background.) I wasn’t there. I was there. I wasn’t there… (He chuckles to himself.) You know what I mean. (He snickers.)

 

ARTHUR (lost): You – what? H-Hold on, what?

 

KAYNE (brightly): Not me me, but me! You know? (He cackles.)

 

ARTHUR: What… What are you? Larson called you… Nyarla… thotep. You said… ‘who cares?’.

 

(A slow piano melody begins.)

 

KAYNE: Exactly! Exactly, Arthur. You get it. It’s not about the names we’re given, it’s about the names we choose! 

 

JOHN: But… are you him?

 

KAYNE: Are you… he?

 

ARTHUR: Are you?

 

KAYNE: Oh, alright, alright. Look. (He snaps his fingers. An otherworldly whoosh.) Here, Artie! Imagine this piano is everything that exists. Everything that will, has, and has yet to. Now, see this key, here? (He plays one note.) Middle C? That’s you. That’s your lovely little planet on its entire timeline from start to finish. Empty rock to empty rock with a few billion monkeys in between. And all these other notes… (He plays up the piano discordantly.)  Are just… copies of that. Slightly different! But basically the same. Different realities, different… universes. Follow? 

 

ARTHUR: I guess, yes. 

 

KAYNE: Come here. (Southern accent.) Let’s see what’s under the hood. (A creak, followed by the sound of discordant strings.) See all these strings and hammers? Everything inside here… what you can’t see when the lid is closed… well, that’s where I exist. (Indignantly.) As well as a number of other cretins who like to call themselves gods! (He grumbles.) In here, we can pluck the strings! (A discordant noise.) Hammer a tune! (Shimmering strum of piano wire.) And walk along these tightened little metal coils to enact our will, in various ways! But never… (Every word emphatic, punctuated by piano wire strum.) More than one key at a time. 

 

See. We are limited in here, Artie. (The lid shuts.) We, as gods… (He taps at the keys discordantly.) Have pieces of us on each and every one of these keys. But our souls… if you want to call it that… are trapped under the lid! Now, don’t get me wrong. We can strike those hammers and make a hell of a mess… but you can’t play much of a tune one note at a time. Can you? (More demanding.) Can you?

 

ARTHUR: No, no. 

 

KAYNE (briefly laughing): Exactly. Or, that’s what I thought. (A slow piano melody begins.) See. Shub-Niggurath, that rascal that those Soldiers boys fell into a few hundred years back, that insanely devout little follower named Antoine waited a – (A Southern accent.) Whole six-hundred and sixty-six years to drag her out from under the lid, kicking and screaming… and land her squarely on the bench! Giving her all the keys she could ever hope for! 

 

JOHN: What?

 

KAYNE: Amazing, right!? Well, not really. Anything is possible if you put your mind to it. The really amazing part…! (Emphatically.) Was how he fucked it up! See, once you’re out of the lid, you’re on your own, bucko! No more safety net. (Faux grumpy.) No more hammering the strings! You are out there and boy, didn’t she last all of five minutes before… (A bang, followed by an otherworldly whoosh.) Bang! Gone from existence. 

 

ARTHUR: Gone? Shub-Niggurath…

 

KAYNE: Gone-zo! Thanks to your pal Henry. In fact, I guess a few names you might know. Frank Underhill. He was in the mix, as well.

 

ARTHUR: W-Wait. Henry McFarland, a-and…

 

JOHN: Frank Underhill was in the Dreamlands.

 

KAYNE (sing-song): Putting the pieces together, I see! (Dramatically.) Look, these boys set off a chain of events that changed the very fabric of our universe! (More normally.) Y-You following? No? Look, the Coles Notes here are Henry, Frank, some other guy – they stopped Antoine from bringing Shubby into this world maybe ten years ago. Shub entered Henry’s body, landing her squarely and firmly on this plane, and with a little time fuckery… (Whispering.) He deleted her from existence. 

 

JOHN: But we saw… a depiction of her, on the wall of the house that –

 

KAYNE: Well, see. When something that powerful gets deleted, it doesn’t go out with a whimper. Every other key that she had ever existed on instantly forgot about her. (He cracks his knuckles and taps the keys.) As if they were never… even… struck! And the world she was brought into? (He plays a quick, alternating tune.) Only had the remnants of her stain. (He begins Faroe’s Waltz.) Sounding familiar, Johnny?

 

JOHN: No. (Kayne gasps.) Why… Why would it?

 

KAYNE: Be-cause, the same thing happened to you, silly goose! Only, just a little piece of you made it out of the lid, and got you trapped in your very own Oxford’s Dictionary of Blasphemy! (He begins to play a melodic tune.) Every single key has a little John and a little Arthur, all slightly different, all having made slightly different choices along the way!

 

ARTHUR: I thought you said I was unique.

 

KAYNE (excitedly): O-O-Oh! You have no idea. Not yet. 

 

JOHN: And I?

 

KAYNE (sucking in air): Well.

 

ARTHUR: Right. Okay, but… each key, then, has a different you, as well?

 

KAYNE (pleased): Yes, yes! Now you’re getting it! Each key, each dimension, each world with its own entire timeline and series of events distilled from the choices you’ve made, the successes, the failures, all of them exist with their own little version of me. Until I killed them. (A sudden horror sting.)

 

JOHN: What? 

 

KAYNE: See. When I touch the Gray Stone, I didn’t ask for what other like-minded versions of myself might have wanted. I asked how to move between these universes. 

 

Unimpeded! (Faux pitifully.) I wasn’t pulled out to be stuck in some mortal flesh or against my will, I slipped out of that prison! And now, I am able to play all the keys. (He plays a few, before settling into a cascading melody.) See. Watching Shub blink out of existence gave me a new perspective. A new understanding, a new reality! A ripple effect caused by a series of strange, unfortunate choices! It made me… special. 

 

In a way, I’m like you, Artie! An anomaly! 

 

ARTHUR: You’re the Nyarlathotep from this reality. 

 

KAYNE: Well, pfft, I mean. I suppose. (Chuckling.) But! To put it another way… I killed him. And all that remains is…

 

JOHN: Kayne.

 

(Multiple keys, hit at once.)

 

KAYNE: Simply. 

 

ARTHUR: But what does all that have to do with me?

 

KAYNE: Well, I told you! You’re special. At first, I thought it was just me, but really, I think this world has some serious power after Shub blinked out of existence! (He begins to play a choppy melody.) 

 

ARTHUR: But… what? I-I don’t understand.

 

KAYNE: Hm? I told you already.

 

ARTHUR: Y-Yes, I get that there are other worlds, other dimensions, me, a-a-and…

 

KAYNE: Do you, though? Do you truly understand? Look. (A snap of his fingers, an otherworldly whoosh. Arthur huffs. Kayne makes faux noises of disgruntlement. A muffled conversation is audible between Other Eddie and Other Arthur.)

 

OTHER EDDIE (muffled) : Lord’s day of rest. That’s why I want to get this work done, frankly.

 

KAYNE: Oh! Tight in here.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): Building is mostly empty. I’m surprised you’re even here, frankly.

 

ARTHUR: What? What… where are we? 

 

JOHN: It’s pitch black.

 

OTHER EDDIE (muffled): Oh, you know me. I’m always here.

 

KAYNE: O-Oh, wait wait wait wait wait. Listen, Artie. 

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): So it’s only us in the building now, I suppose.

 

OTHER EDDIE (muffled): Yep. Unless your partner is here somewhere.

 

JOHN: The maintenance man. From your apartment.

 

KAYNE (excitedly): Yes! Yes, yes!

 

JOHN: Is that…

 

KAYNE: But wait! Wait, wait! Listen. I love this part. Hold on.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (overlapping, muffled): Yes, we get most of our work done on Sundays. It’s pretty quiet here.

 

OTHER EDDIE (muffled): I imagine your line of work needs a lot of quiet.

 

ARTHUR: Who…?

 

(A short silence.)

 

ARTHUR: Is that…? (A sudden gunshot. Kayne cackles. Arthur makes a noise of fear.) I-I didn’t do that.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): Oh – what have I done!? Oh. Oh, my God. (He makes distressed noises.)

 

KAYNE: Well, in this world, you did! I love this one, it’s really fun. You end up losing your arm up to the elbow and you kill so many people!

 

JOHN: What?

 

ARTHUR: W-Whose… (He pats around him, hitting something solid.) Is this… 

 

KAYNE: I call this one ‘Dark Arthur’, or ‘Darkthur’. 

 

ARTHUR: Wait, who’s… (More patting.) Is this… (The click of metal.) What am I…

 

KAYNE: Oh, yeah! That would be Parker’s body you’re up against. (Arthur makes noises of fear.) Say hi, Parker. (Kayne puppets Parker, clicking his teeth.) Hi, Arthur! Time to go! (He cackles. An otherworldly whoosh. John grunts, Arthur makes a noise of fear.) 

 

JOHN: We’re in… a dimly lit room. The wall is covered in slats of wood running horizontally, and the ceiling is on an angle that touches the floor. Similar to Marie’s attic, but… much, much smaller. Everything is covered in dust.

 

KAYNE: Yes, yes. Look, no matter what I seem to throw at you, you come out the other side better for it! The other Arthurs, well. (Jovially.) They’re just not you! It’s like the Black Stone itself, I can’t… see you in the same way! Something about you is just… different! 

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): A symbol?

 

KAYNE: But I don’t know what.

 

ARTHUR: Where are we?

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): What? 

 

KAYNE (surprised): Oh, you don’t… recognize it. (Arthur breathes heavily. Distant footsteps approach.) Oh, oh! (Kayne shushes him.) Just keep breathing! (Sing-songing.) The wall.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): What’s that sound? 

 

JOHN: There’s a small hole in the wall to our right!

 

KAYNE: Yes, yes! But – (Kayne shushes him again.)

 

JOHN: Kayne wants us to look through it, maybe.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): Listen. 

 

KAYNE (chiding): Ah, ah, ah! Just breathe, Arthur!

 

JOHN: Okay.

 

KAYNE: And keep those ears open.

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): What is that? It’s coming from the wall. (Arthur breathes shakily.) A hole? 

 

JOHN: What? That’s… That’s you! 

 

OTHER IRVINE (muffled): It’s a local saying.  

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled, startled): What?

 

JOHN: Where…

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): Oh. Oh, yeah.

 

OTHER IRVINE (muffled): ‘Day comes when…’ (He trails off.)

 

KAYNE: Addison! You weren’t here, sadly. 

 

ARTHUR: T-That was me, but… 

 

KAYNE: But, but, but, but! Are you getting it, yet?

 

ARTHUR: What else have you changed?

 

KAYNE: Changed!? (Taken aback.) No, no, you’re missing the big picture, Artie! 

 

OTHER ARTHUR (muffled): The owners? 

 

(Kayne snaps his fingers. An otherworldly woosh. Arthur grunts. Crickets chirp at a distance.)

 

JOHN: Arthur, we’re standing in a small room. It’s dark. A single window lets moonlight pour in. A small crib sits beneath the window. 

 

ARTHUR: What?  Where – (He gasps.)

 

KAYNE (shushing him): Don’t wake the baby. 

 

(A music box version of Faroe’s Lullaby begins. Kayne laughs.)

 

JOHN: Who…?

 

ARTHUR: What? Is this… (Shakily.) I-Is this…

 

KAYNE: Oh, God, no, no no no no no! Arthur, Arthur. You’re missing the scope of what I’m saying! (A short pause.) This is you. 

 

(A slow piano melody begins.)

 

JOHN: What?

 

KAYNE: Don’t you recognize yourself? (Eagerly.) Go, go! Look. Well, not look, but. 

 

JOHN: Arthur. 

 

ARTHUR (shakily): H-How…?

 

(A baby coos.)

 

KAYNE: What did we say about words like ‘how’? 

 

JOHN: You’re so… tiny. 

 

KAYNE: Arthur! Were you a preemie? 

 

ARTHUR: Why here?

 

KAYNE: Kids, Arthur. They are the most important thing. (The baby continues to make noise.) Hell, even I have a daughter. And you know what, she would love you! No word of a lie.

 

ARTHUR (weakly): In this… here. Do my… parents… still…?

 

KAYNE: No. No, no, no, no, no no no. Not in this one. But oh… oh, are you starting to get it, now? 

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I, um… I think I… 

 

(An otherworldly woosh. Both John and Arthur gasp. Water runs at a distance.)

 

JOHN: We’re in a hallway. A carpeted hallway, there’s a door to our right, with… what sounds like running water, beyond –

 

KAYNE: That’s enough, Johnny. (Smugly.) He knows where we are. 

 

(Faroe’s Lullaby begins.)

 

ARTHUR: My… home. 

 

KAYNE: Now. Stay right here! Seriously. (A door opens. Brightly.) Hey, kiddo! Just going to turn this… (Arthur breathes shakily. Kayne turns off the faucet.) Off! (Kayne laughs.) Okay! Play safe! (The door opens again.) Ah, kids. She’s very cute, Arthur. 

 

JOHN: Was… that…?

 

KAYNE: Let’s go downstairs and talk. Shall we?  (A snap of his fingers. An otherworldly whoosh. Arthur breathes heavily.) Ah, the piano room! Where I would say you did some of your best work, Arthur. (Faux simpering.) Sit, please, please, I insist. (Arthur walks and sits at the bench.)  Why didn’t you ever finish Faroe’s Goodbye? I liked that one. Do you remember it?

 

ARTHUR: No. Not entirely, I-I…

 

KAYNE (darkly): Try to. (Arthur begins to play Faroe’s Goodbye.) So! Boys. I think I’ve made everything abundantly clear. 

 

JOHN (frustrated): All except what you actually want us to fucking do.

 

KAYNE: Right, right! Oh, boy. (Theatrically.) In my old age! Well, I want you… Arthur, to get the Black Stone. For me. 

 

(Arthur stops playing.)

 

ARTHUR: How am I supposed to do that?

 

KAYNE: Great question, again, wow! I don’t know. Remember? (Kayne cackles.) Did I say stop? 

 

(Arthur begins to play again.)

 

JOHN: We can’t get something if we don’t know where it is!

 

KAYNE: Or when! (Meandering.) Well, I do know when. And where. But not really… how. Or where in specific, just… look. I know the when and where. I managed to squeeze that out of my previous self, so I can get you there… you just need to… get it! 

 

ARTHUR: I… (He exhales. The piano melody continues.)

 

KAYNE: Oh, oh! That’s it, there it is! (Cooing.) You do remember. Play that, will you? (Threateningly.) Play it! (Arthur continues to play.) Ah, yes. I love this part. 

 

So, we’re going to use the carrot and the stick, here! Sound good, boys? When you get me the Black Stone, both of you… your own bodies, again! There are even worlds where you did it already! Imagine that! It doesn’t go well after, but!

 

JOHN: What do you  –

 

KAYNE: Arthur back in his and you in your own and… you two can still try to stay friends! Plus, Artie…! Listen to that! (Amicably.) No running water! You can have her back, Arthur. Imagine that! That… Mm! Must just warm your heart. 

 

ARTHUR: It’s not real. None of this –

 

KAYNE: Oh, it’s real! And now for the stick. If you don’t play along – (Arthur stops playing.) I will torture every version of your daughter in front of you until the last light of the dying sun. (Abruptly.) Did I say stop!? (Arthur begins to play.)

 

(Violently.) I will perform such atrocities on Daniel, Charlie, every single person you know! Over and over again! And that is not even to say what I will physically do to you! I can kill you in so many ways! (Breathing heavily.) You have no… no idea! And John… oh, boy! Listen, Goldie, I’ll do worse to you than him. Just because I can! That’s the stick. 

 

ARTHUR: It’s quite the stick.

 

KAYNE: You can’t even fathom. (Arthur stops playing. More calmly.) Look, boys. This is easy. Easy, easy, easy, easy, easy. I mean. I assume. Now! You two. Fighting over and over again. Look, I’m not a monster. I just want the Stone. So! Before I send you on your merry way, John-boy, let’s chat! 

 

JOHN: About what?

 

KAYNE: Oh, can’t you feel it? The tension? Arthur’s so upset about our little side deal. You choosing to keep it from him…

 

JOHN (quickly): I had no choice.

 

KAYNE: Sure. Anyway! I want everything to be as smooth as ice, so! I’ll make you a little offer. Call it DC al Coda! (He cackles. Quieter.) That’s a joke for Arthur and I, John. (Normally.) How would you like me to wipe Arthur’s memory? 

 

JOHN: What? 

 

(A slow piano melody begins.) 

 

KAYNE: Not entirely, mind you! Just the little revelation we spoke about, back in New York.

 

JOHN (in surprise): What.

 

KAYNE: I could wipe it from his mind, so he wouldn’t remember that you lied to him!

 

ARTHUR: John. (He shakily inhales.) Do not –

 

KAYNE: It’s a one-time offer, John! A way to start fresh. A little boost to make you two play nice! And then you can get my Stone. What do you say? 

 

JOHN: I-I…

 

ARTHUR: John. Listen to me.

 

JOHN: I-I don’t want to…

 

ARTHUR (determinedly): Don’t you do this. I –

 

JOHN (quietly): Do it.

 

ARTHUR: No. No.

 

JOHN: Do it, Kayne. 

 

ARTHUR (reeling): How, how could you – ?

 

KAYNE: Ah. Once a monster, hey, Artie? (Arthur breathes heavily.)

 

JOHN: Do it. 

 

KAYNE: Nah.

 

JOHN: What!? You bastard! 

 

(Kayne cackles. John makes noises of frustration.)

 

KAYNE: You know, when Arthur wrote down to forget about Oscar, oh! (John groans.) And the choices he could’ve made… (He tsks.) Oh. I think it’s time to re-evaluate, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: You! 

 

(Kayne cackles.)

 

KAYNE: Oh. Alright, boys! It’s been a blast. (He snaps his fingers. An otherworldly whoosh. Rain falls.) This way. Watch your step, please. (Another otherworldly whoosh. Kayne grunts in satisfaction.) Well, here we are! I think it’s 700 years ago, maybe, somewhere, around there. And look! You boys get to go to England after all!

 

ARTHUR: England?

 

KAYNE: That’s right! (Dramatically.) Welcome to 13th century England! (Overexcited.) I know, right!? Who would’ve thought? But… this is where the Soldiers left off, so…

 

ARTHUR: H-Hold on! We… We have no… money, o-or…! What – !

 

KAYNE: Look, look, look, look, look, look, look, Arthur! (Arthur makes a stunned noise.) I can’t worry about the details, okay? Call me when you find my Stone.

 

(He snaps his fingers. An otherworldly whoosh.)

 

ARTHUR: How, how – ?

 

KAYNE (echoing): And Arthur? Gooooood luck! (Kayne cackles. Thunder booms. An otherworldly whoosh.)

 

ARTHUR: No! 

 

(John breathes heavily, followed by only the sound of pouring rain and thunder.)

 

(A click, followed by static.)

 

(END Intermezzo.)