Dinosaur Teeth (Part 7)

experimental theatre, avant-garde opera, hip hop, rap

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(Bagpipes. Low. Nervous. Loch Ness trombone – warning.)

Woman Tramp (waking up, screaming, then whisper):
I dreamed.
The Earl.
The dinosaur scarecrow.
He was eaten.
By dinosaurs.
Real ones.
With teeth.
With opinions.
A committee.
They voted.
The Earl was the main course.

Penguin (dry, not looking up):
Which dinosaurs?

Woman Tramp:
All of them.
I woke up when they reached for my shoe.

(Train whistle. Broken.)

Sssssera (symbols spelling „RUN“):
S-s-s-soldiers?
Gone.
Every one.
Went h-h-h-home.
To their m-m-m-mothers.
To their t-t-t-tea.
We are alone.
Dinosaurs are c-c-c-coming.

Fliss (paintbrush empty):
I sent you for a zeppelin.
You were gone 50 meters.

Woman Tramp (defensive):
Dinosaurs on the road.
Three. Maybe four.
One had a bow tie.
Red. Aggressively red.
I turned around.

Penguin (still not looking):
50 meters is not a journey.
It's a regret with legs.

(Cello. Dissonant. Bomb memory – far.)

Bat Choir (Haka – soft, worried, fluttering):

50 meters. 50 steps.
Tramp went out. Tramp came back.
No soldiers. No help. No zeppelin in sight.
Just a penguin with a book.
A snake with fright.
A mechanic with an empty brush.
A woman in three coats – crush, crush, crush.
(Whisper.)
Crush.

(Accordion. Barely. Dinosaur roar – distant.)

Fliss (throwing paintbrush):
So. No zeppelin. No soldiers. Dinosaurs coming.
The Earl is a snack.
And we sit here. Reading?

Penguin (holding up book):
Wittgenstein.
Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.

Fliss:
Does it help with dinosaurs?

Penguin:
„Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.“

Fliss:
So we shut up and get eaten?

Penguin:
No. We shut up and read.
Dinosaurs don't understand philosophy.
That is our advantage.

Sssssera:
What about f-f-f-fur-snakes?

Penguin:
He wasn't prepared for you.
No one is.
Also our advantage.

(Loch Ness trombone – confused slide.)

Woman Tramp (sitting, three coats wrapped tight):
So we stay.
No zeppelin. No running. No fighting.
We read Wittgenstein.
And wait for dinosaurs.

Fliss (sitting next to her):
Stupidest plan I've ever heard.

Woman Tramp:
Exactly why it will work.

Penguin (reading aloud, quiet):
„The world is everything that is the case.“
The case: dinosaurs are coming.
„The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.“
Our world: pink castle. One book. Three coats.
A fur-snake. A bat choir.
No zeppelin.
That is enough.

(Bat Choir – whisper, then growing, then fragile.)

Bat Choir (overlapping):

Dinosaurs don't read Wittgenstein.
Dinosaurs don't count stars.
Dinosaurs just eat.
That's their whole philosophy.
But we have:
One – penguin with gray bow tie.
Two – mechanic with empty brush.
Three – snake with glowing fur.
Four – woman with three coats and a bad dream.
Five – bat choir that says no.
Six – pink castle.
Seven – a book that says silence is the answer.
Eight – memory of the Earl.
Nine – tricycle with gold spokes.
Ten – the cracked-egg star.
(Whisper.)
Eleven – nothing.
Nothing is silence.
Nothing is Wittgenstein.
Nothing is the breath before the dinosaur.
Nothing is our secret weapon.

(Train whistle. Not hopeful. Just there.)

Sssssera (symbols now „READ“):
Let's r-r-r-read.
If dinosaurs c-c-c-come, we read louder.
If they eat us, we read from inside.
Wittgenstein in the stomach.
That's a p-p-p-poem.

Fliss (opening random page):
„Death is not an event in life.“
So maybe dinosaurs are not an event either.
Maybe dinosaurs are just… Tuesday.

Woman Tramp (small smile):
Tuesday. Always Tuesday.
Tuesdays don't count.
But Wednesdays might.
If we are still here, we read another page.

(All together – soft, then growing, then soft again.)*

The Entire Company (overlapping):

We stayed. We didn't run.
We read Wittgenstein in a pink castle.
Let the dinosaurs come.
We have:
Three coats. One book.
A bat that says no.
A snake that spells hope.
A penguin with logic.
A mechanic with dreams.
And 50 meters of courage
that turned around
and became wisdom.
The wisdom to stay.
The wisdom to read.
We cannot stop the dinosaurs.
But we can describe them.
Description is resistance.
Resistance is a page.
A page is a world.
Our world is enough.

(Silence. Dinosaur roar – closer. A dish breaks – calm. A tricycle bell. A page turns.)

Penguin (reading, as lights fade):
„Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.“

(Pause.)

Bat Choir (from darkness, upside down, tender):
No.
No to the dinosaurs.
No to silence.
No to the end.
No no no no—
(long pause)
…keep reading.

(Page turns. Darkness. The cracked-egg star. Still there. Still counting.)

4512/7500

(Bagpipes. Low. Nervous. Loch Ness trombone – warning.) Woman Tramp (waking up, screaming, then whisper): I dreamed. The Earl. The dinosaur scarecrow. He was eaten. By dinosaurs. Real ones. With teeth. With opinions. A committee. They voted. The Earl was the main course. Penguin (dry, not looking up): Which dinosaurs? Woman Tramp: All of them. I woke up when they reached for my shoe. (Train whistle. Broken.) Sssssera (symbols spelling „RUN“): S-s-s-soldiers? Gone. Every one. Went h-h-h-home. To their m-m-m-mothers. To their t-t-t-tea. We are alone. Dinosaurs are c-c-c-coming. Fliss (paintbrush empty): I sent you for a zeppelin. You were gone 50 meters. Woman Tramp (defensive): Dinosaurs on the road. Three. Maybe four. One had a bow tie. Red. Aggressively red. I turned around. Penguin (still not looking): 50 meters is not a journey. It's a regret with legs. (Cello. Dissonant. Bomb memory – far.) Bat Choir (Haka – soft, worried, fluttering): 50 meters. 50 steps. Tramp went out. Tramp came back. No soldiers. No help. No zeppelin in sight. Just a penguin with a book. A snake with fright. A mechanic with an empty brush. A woman in three coats – crush, crush, crush. (Whisper.) Crush. (Accordion. Barely. Dinosaur roar – distant.) Fliss (throwing paintbrush): So. No zeppelin. No soldiers. Dinosaurs coming. The Earl is a snack. And we sit here. Reading? Penguin (holding up book): Wittgenstein. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. Fliss: Does it help with dinosaurs? Penguin: „Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.“ Fliss: So we shut up and get eaten? Penguin: No. We shut up and read. Dinosaurs don't understand philosophy. That is our advantage. Sssssera: What about f-f-f-fur-snakes? Penguin: He wasn't prepared for you. No one is. Also our advantage. (Loch Ness trombone – confused slide.) Woman Tramp (sitting, three coats wrapped tight): So we stay. No zeppelin. No running. No fighting. We read Wittgenstein. And wait for dinosaurs. Fliss (sitting next to her): Stupidest plan I've ever heard. Woman Tramp: Exactly why it will work. Penguin (reading aloud, quiet): „The world is everything that is the case.“ The case: dinosaurs are coming. „The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.“ Our world: pink castle. One book. Three coats. A fur-snake. A bat choir. No zeppelin. That is enough. (Bat Choir – whisper, then growing, then fragile.) Bat Choir (overlapping): Dinosaurs don't read Wittgenstein. Dinosaurs don't count stars. Dinosaurs just eat. That's their whole philosophy. But we have: One – penguin with gray bow tie. Two – mechanic with empty brush. Three – snake with glowing fur. Four – woman with three coats and a bad dream. Five – bat choir that says no. Six – pink castle. Seven – a book that says silence is the answer. Eight – memory of the Earl. Nine – tricycle with gold spokes. Ten – the cracked-egg star. (Whisper.) Eleven – nothing. Nothing is silence. Nothing is Wittgenstein. Nothing is the breath before the dinosaur. Nothing is our secret weapon. (Train whistle. Not hopeful. Just there.) Sssssera (symbols now „READ“): Let's r-r-r-read. If dinosaurs c-c-c-come, we read louder. If they eat us, we read from inside. Wittgenstein in the stomach. That's a p-p-p-poem. Fliss (opening random page): „Death is not an event in life.“ So maybe dinosaurs are not an event either. Maybe dinosaurs are just… Tuesday. Woman Tramp (small smile): Tuesday. Always Tuesday. Tuesdays don't count. But Wednesdays might. If we are still here, we read another page. (All together – soft, then growing, then soft again.)* The Entire Company (overlapping): We stayed. We didn't run. We read Wittgenstein in a pink castle. Let the dinosaurs come. We have: Three coats. One book. A bat that says no. A snake that spells hope. A penguin with logic. A mechanic with dreams. And 50 meters of courage that turned around and became wisdom. The wisdom to stay. The wisdom to read. We cannot stop the dinosaurs. But we can describe them. Description is resistance. Resistance is a page. A page is a world. Our world is enough. (Silence. Dinosaur roar – closer. A dish breaks – calm. A tricycle bell. A page turns.) Penguin (reading, as lights fade): „Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.“ (Pause.) Bat Choir (from darkness, upside down, tender): No. No to the dinosaurs. No to silence. No to the end. No no no no— (long pause) …keep reading. (Page turns. Darkness. The cracked-egg star. Still there. Still counting.)

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