Oooompah. Ooooompah.
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A chronological look at the play in 54 pictures.  Click on any image for a bigger view.

Scott Alexander opens the show with catchy pop music to which you can't really sing along, and there's no beat.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
I would be remiss if I did not mention that everything necessary to make you happy is available right here, right now.  Step right up.  Raise your hand if you are willing to lose your life.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
The Good Doctor is The Good Doctor, who brings you Pferdzwackür's Frabjous Elixir, a fantastic Drinkee-Tonick.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
What if I told you we had an elixir, that would knock your shoes and socks off, and pull your suspenders up around your ears?

Clod:
Real Medicine?

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Here, try some of this!

 
  

Clod:
Okay!

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
I need you to be more pliable.  Let us start over.  Forget about buying anything.  Weíre going ot relax.  Get comfortable in your chair.  Listen to my voice.  There is only one drink who kisses so sweetly the inside of your eyelids.  It is this.  Pferdzwackur's Elixir.  Ladies and gentlemen.  Close your eyes.  Close your eyes, and listen to my voice.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Once upon a time There was a beatiful girl.  Lucinda.  Rare and delicate, a moody coquette, an eater of moon-pies.  Liquid is her life, nervous and deep, wrapped in caress of the softest porcelain skin.

 
  

Clod:
Iíll tell you a secret.  I am seduced.  By the television.  I see beautiful, beautiful girls in there.  They dance the hula.  They wear skimpy bathing suits.  They got a kung-fu grip.  I am in love.  With the television.

 
  

Delilah:
I am the angel of the television.  I bring you a revolution.

Clod:
Do you think Iím sexy?

 
  

Delilah:
I have a product here that will knock your wawa right off the moon.  Behold.  The Nutcracker.

Clod:
How about a little kiss?

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
I believe.  I believe that a bottle of elixir is exactly the answer for a ravishing young thing such as yourself.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
And I only give it to you after Iíve told them everything.

Lucinda:
Them?

Mr. Ooolong:
(indicating the audience)  Them.

Lucinda:
Oh.  Them.

 
  

Lucinda:
They look dumpy.

Mr. Ooolong:
They are not dumpy. They are customers. Whim-cash-kindness.

Lucinda:
Oh. Do you think they burn?

Mr. Ooolong:
I beg your pardon?

 
  

Lucinda:
They look fat to burn. Sizzly cholesterol. Greasy smoke, I bet.

Mr. Ooolong:
Why donít we move along.

Lucinda:
I am asking.  Are.  They.  Flammable?

 
  

Clod:
Yeah, you and me both.  This is about the point in the show where I lose interest.

 
  

Delilah:
Is it time?  Did you come for the taxes?  Who sent you?  Mutual?  What took yo so long?  Where's my fried chicken?  My vacuum cleaner works fine, by the way.

 
  

Clod:
Here's my problem.  My sister is whacko.  Whack.

 
  

Delilah:
You must go.  You must go and save your sister.  Your sister.  Has been bitten by the vampire.

Clod:
No.  No! No! No!  She has NOT been bitten by a vampire.  Thatís just the part she plays in the show. She pretends to be bitten by the vampire.

Delilah:
Then what are we talking about here?

 
  

Delilah:
Lookit blowfish.  I already gave you free advice.  You should take it.  You gotta trust somebody.  Better to have loved and lost than never to love at all.  It goes the same for all transactions.

 
  

Delilah:
Okay, Flounder.  I will make a bauble.  Just work with me.  Hold this.

 
  

Delilah:
Think about your sister. Keep stirring. Let your stirring fingers reach out and grasp her hand.

Ticker needle gauge meter
By the zag of analog
Potash pepper poop saltpeter
digerati does the dog

 
  

Delilah:
In the dank and smooky wot
Shopping mall and shopping mall
Echo fade and memory rot
Grizzle, fat cholesterol.

Newt butt.  Rhubarb.  Wasa-Tusa.  Coriakin.  Okay.  Now for the pixie dust. . .  Wouldn't you know? I'm almost out.

 
  

Delilah:
The 200 machine. Duplicitous Factory Anti-Original.

Clod:
Oh.

Delilah:
It's simple.  Say you need something in bulk.  You put one in here.  And two hundred come out.

 
  

Clod:
Two hundred?

Delilah:
Roughly.

Clod:
Two hundred of anything?

Delilah:
Maybe.  But it's knockoff.  Not quite the original strength.  Works well for low-grade herbs.  And pixie dust, I hope.

 
  

Delilah:
Here it is.  For lack of something concrete, happiness.  Nice happiness.

Clod:
It looks like a rubber ball.

Delilah:
Behold! We have the Bauble.

 
  

Clod:
He said, 'Son, there are two kinds in this world.  Those who fish.  And.  Fish!'

I am one of those who fish.

 
  

Lucinda:
Drink.  Drink my blood!

Clod:
Hi, Lucinda.

Lucinda:
My flesh is dope, Throat dope glow.

Clod:
Nice to see you.

Lucinda:
The pleasure is all mine!  Drink my blood!

 
  

Lucinda:
I have doped my skin with poison incense and ground up fireflies.  I am electric.  I keep a battery under my tongue.  My teeth grind in a highpitch keen.  It drives housecats batty.  My eyelids are glazed with honey.  I swallowed a pound of cinnamon, and it sweats from my pores.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
I suppose weíll be needing an intermission.  There is so much more in the second act you know.  Lucinda is still desperate.  Turns out the happiness ball didnít work like it was supposed to.

 
  

Ghost Voice (Puppet):
I want your indulgence.  Do I insult your intelligence by pretending to ask questions?

 
  

Ghost Voice (Puppet):
Here is my question.  If I was a magician, and I could put magic into little objects, little tokens, and thereby save your souls, why would I not do this?  And if I need to make a living, would it not be reasonable to charge a very attractive price for these little doobers?

 
  

I N T E R M I S S I O N

 
  

The Mayor's Hampden Holiday parade was cold, and bright.  We handed out plastic vampire teeth.

 
  

Everyone (singing):
My mama told me
That she would buy me
A Rubber Dolly
If I'd be good.

Now don't you tell her
I got a feller.
She won't buy me
No Rubber Dolly.

 
  

Everyone (singing):
My mama told me
That she would buy me
A Stick of Candy
If I'd be good.

Now don't you tell her
I got a feller.
She won't buy me
No Stick of Candy.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
And what has become of Lucinda?  When last we saw her, she had received the strange gift of happiness.  And soon, so soon, on Christmas Eve, she receives her Nutcracker.  Thusly awry the situation skews.

 
  

Lucinda:
What should I put in the 200 machine?  Money?  Or Happiness?

 
  

Clod:
I don't feel anything.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Someone has been hitting the Breath of Life.  No matter.  Everything is working according to my plan.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Now, all we need is the final breath.  From the right mouth.  To give you the smell of somebody she trusts.  One final breath, just a taint of something familiar and well-loved.  Where is that boy Clod?

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
I am the Judge.

Clod:
Droselmeyer?

Mr. Ooolong:
In the flesh.

Clod:
Do you fix crazy people?

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Clod?  Why are you giving your money to strangers?

 
  

Lucinda:
And the moment I awake, screaming, belongs to Coco Chanel.  But my soul.  My soul belongs to Microsoft.  Oh, and my body?  You couldn't guess who my body belongs to.

 
  

Delilah:    Boy.  I sure could use a Coke right now.

Lucinda:
Me too.  I'm thirsty!

Delilah:    A coke would really hit the spot!

Lucinda:
You're telling me.  A nice Coca-Cola product.

 
  

Voodoo Prime:
Nyaaaaaah!

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
My loverly Lucinda child.

Lucinda:
Uncle Droselmeyer!  You scared me.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
What is that youíre playing with?

Lucinda:
A rubber dolly!

Mr. Ooolong:
Oh, let me see!

 
  

Lucinda:
No.  I want it.  I would.  Please I would like my gift, Uncle Droselmeyer.

Mr. Ooolong:
And will you keep it a secret?

Lucinda:
Oh.  Yes.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Before you I submit a soldier.  A splendid royal soldier, in full parade dress.  Coin of the realm.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Ladies and gentlemen.  I pity the girl.  But I canít help it.  I like the taste of fear.  I like a safe and comfortable victim, who never thought she would be taken thus.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Suspicion is bitter.  Willing masochism, rancid.  I am a connoiseur.  I like to build trust.  I like to forsake it.

 
  

Mr. Ooolong:
Gett off the set.  I'm working.

 
  

Everyone (singing):
Love.
Love in a Bottle.
Love in a Spoon.
I love you.

 

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