This House Runs on My Rules!

[Intro — Delicate harpsichord, graceful strings, stately waltz] [Spoken — Deep, dignified female contralto] Good afternoon. My name is Beatrice McKinnon. You may call me Mrs. McKinnon. I am the proprietor of this establishment. And have been for longer than most of you have been alive. [Pause] Considerably longer, in fact. [Harpsichord flourish] Now, there are a few rules we observe at McKinnon House. Nothing unreasonable. Simply the standards of a civilized household. [Spoken — firmly] And I do expect them to be followed. [Verse 1 — Jaunty harpsichord and pizzicato strings] A proper house has proper ways, Established through the years! We welcome guests from near and far, And sometimes calm their fears! The silver shines, the linens glow, The floors are polished bright! And every guest, alive or dead, Shall know what's wrong and right! [Chorus — Sweeping strings, lively theatrical rhythm] For this house runs on my rules! And we do not suffer fools! Be you pauper, prince, or king, There's one important thing: You will mind your blessed manners in these halls! [Verse 2 — Playful orchestral dance] No rattling chains at suppertime, No wailing after ten! And if you haunt the drawing room, Please tidy up again! The living have their little needs, The dead have theirs as well! But whether you're from heaven, dear, Or somewhere else as well— [Chorus — Brisk harpsichord and full strings] This house runs on my rules! We're a household, not a school! There's a place for every guest, And I really must insist, That you mind your blessed manners in these halls! [Instrumental break — Harpsichord and strings dance playfully] [Spoken — Music abruptly stops] Excuse me. Did you just put your muddy boots... On my freshly polished table? [Single ominous harpsichord chord] I beg your pardon? [Low trembling strings, growing menace] [Shouted — Terrifying commanding contralto] YOU MISERABLE, ILL-MANNERED, HALF-WITTED LITTLE WRETCH! [Orchestral explosion — Furious strings, thunderous percussion, frantic harpsichord] [Verse 3 — Dramatic operatic rage] A HUNDRED YEARS OF CARE AND PRIDE! AND STILL YOU DARE DEFY! I'VE SENT MORE FOOLS THROUGH LOCKED-UP DOORS THAN STARS UP IN THE SKY! THE WALLS ARE MINE! THE KEYS ARE MINE! THE VERY FLOORBOARDS KNOW! AND IF YOU CANNOT MIND YOURSELF, THEN OUT THE DOOR YOU GO! [Massive orchestral crash] [Absolute silence] [Spoken — Perfectly calm and dignified] There. I feel much better. [Small pause] Now, dear... Would you care for tea? [Harpsichord resumes — Light and cheerful] [Pizzicato strings return] [Final Chorus — Triumphant orchestral dance] For this house runs on my rules! We have standards, not just stools! Though the years may come and go, There's one thing you ought to know: You will mind your blessed manners in these halls! [Spoken — Kindly but commanding] Do enjoy your stay. And remember... [Brief pause] I am always watching. [Final harpsichord flourish and grand string chord]