[crickets chirping]
[distant riverboat horn]
[violin solo]
ROCKY: Old Man River!
That seems far too austere a name for something made of mirth and rage.
[rapid bowing]
O, roiling red-blood river vein. If chief among your traits is age,
[plucks violin] you’re a wily, convoluted sage.
[Rocky laughs and plays a note]
Is “old” the thing to call what rings the vernal heart of wester-lore?
What brings us brassy myth-made kings.
[triumphant stroke]
And a preponderance of bug-type things.
[whining vibrato]
[echoing] To challenge titans come before!
[violin playing continues]
O, demiurge to a try at Avalon-once-more?
And what august vitality
in your wide aorta stream.
You must have had to oversee
alchemic change of timber beam
to iron, brick and engine steam!
Your umber whiskey waters lance the prideful, sober sovereignty
of faulty-haloed temperance,
and wilt her self-sure countenance;
Yes, righteousness is vanity.
[chuckling] But sport’s for imps, not elderly.
So if there’s a name for migrant mass
of veteran frivolity
That snakes through seas of prairie grass
and groves of summer sassafras;
A name that flows as roguishly
as wild waters, fast and free,
[violin stops] It’s your true name:
Mississippi.
IVY: Ahem!
[melodramatic] It’s abundantly clear!
You forgot us down here.
ROCKY: Encore?
Uh, no encore?
IVY: Please, no. No, that’s plenty. FRECKLE: It’s fine. We’re fine.
Eh, should I, eh, add a d- dance?
ROCKY: Extra stanzas?
[wheezing laugh] There’s more where that came from!
Please don’t ruin musical theater for everyone.
I’m not sure lookouts
are supposed to make such a ruckus anyway.
IVY: Why don’t you come down here and grab a shovel?
ROCKY: Alas, Miss Pepper.
I was cursed, cursed with these spaghetti arms!
So, I do what I can.
I provide the a-!
[crashing violin noises]
I provide the ambiance.
Baby-Face provides the muscle.
Look at him digging his way to martyrdom,
the little go-getter!
Now, how about a little rhapsody in G minor for company?
Fine! If you’re not going to help us work,
you’re going to have to double as the dirt rag.
[shovel hits wood] FRECKLE: Rocky?
ROCKY: Ah! FRECKLE: I think I fou-
[cackling]
IVY: Is that it? ROCKY: Well, if it isn’t,
we’ll have some awkward explaining to do to the family of, uh…
[struggling to read] Herman Hapfamschfeel?
[frogs croaking]
[horned owl calls]
What was that? Did you hear something?
It’s all these unresting spirits!
ROCKY: We’re trespassin’ on their turf.
[over-the-top Irish accent] But there’s naught ye can do about it,
ye feisty devils!
FRECKLE: [sighs] I wish my mum was here.
What? Blasphemy! That force of nature, she’d stop us dead.
I know.
Oh, Freckle.
Don’t tell me you aren’t having a good time
showing off your shoveling skills for hotsy-totsy over here.
[train horn]
ROCKY: [laughing] Begorra!
For a moment there, I thought it was your mom.
This is why you don’t go rilin’ up spirits
and digging up graves and sacrilegin’ and
ROCKY: Settle down, cousin.
The spirits are all bottled up. [laughs]
Hundred years past, Burke and Hare were up to much worse.
And things turned out just fine for them.
FRECKLE: D- didn’t they ge- hang ‘em? ROCKY: Details, Freckle. Details.
Now show me your crowbar skills.
[shy laughter]
[coffin opening]
[whispering] Oh, thank the saints. [glass bottles clattering]
Ah, liquid gold! Dionysian delight!
Better still, Canadian whiskey!
ROCKY: [humming]
I think we should hurry.
IVY: I’ll start the car. ROCKY: [singing] Whiskey in the jar.
Uh, leave the headlamps off. Can’t be too careful.
Right. We’ve been so discreet up until now.
FRECKLE: Oh, uh. Ah, dang it. ROCKY: No!
ROCKY: Don’t let that get away! Miss M can’t spare a drop!
Murderation!
Where’s that spotlight when we need it, Miss Pepper?
ROCKY: Well now the spirits are afoot. FRECKLE: Hold on! I got it! I got it!
ROCKY: That is my foot! That’s not what I meant!
FRECKLE: Well, I can’t see!
ROCKY: Ah! There it is!
FRECKLE: Gah! Stop it! ROCKY: Y- you!
FRECKLE: Get off me, Rocky! ROCKY: Ow!
FRECKLE: Hey! Ah! Get off!
Ah!
[car door opens]
[car engine revs]
Excuse me hee! [gunfire]
IVY: [confused screaming]
[gunshot] SERAFINE: [laughs]
[gunfire]
Ah!
NICODEME: [laughs] IVY: [confused screaming continues]
Look like we got some live ones tonight.
SERAFINE: [laughs] Yeah. C’est bon.
The chase is the best part.
[gunfire]
Get in!
Get in get in get in!
MORDECAI: [sighs] Let’s not prolong this.
This is a trifling matter.
We have other business to tend to.
Yeah. But none of it near as fun as this gon’ be.
Mm! Can’t let the competition go unchecked.
Even a little vermin, they got a way of
festering.
Allons!
Where’d you learn to drive like that?
I didn’t!
[Music: “Olive Branch” by Sepiatonic]
ROCKY: Didn’t? IVY: Learn to drive!
Well, you’re so bad at it, you’ve confounded the enemy!
Nicely done.
[car horn]
[gasps]
Keep confounding! Keep confounding!
[grunts]
Now we need a performance from you, torpedo boy!
Ah!
No no no no!
ROCKY: Yes yes yes!
FRECKLE: No no!
Don’t be modest!
I, I, I g- I, um
[shaky] I…
Play us a symphony.
[gunfire] [glass shatters]
IVY: Holy simoleon! SERAFINE: [laughs]
[gasps] No!
[screams]
IVY: What’s going on back there?
SERAFINE: All right. What the-? NICODEME: [laughs]
I guess this one is the bait.
Oh no stay with me!
[maniacal laughter] [gunfire]
NICODEME: Hoo. SERAFINE: [laughs]
NICODEME: [laughs] SERAFINE: Whoo!
[coughs] I think I swallowed a bug.
You got a big, fat bebette for dinner? No fair.
[coughs and spits] Naw. Just more glass. [laughs]
Profoundly unprofessional.
Well, they got more firepower than I expected.
But you want to take over drivin’ back there?
No.
Especially now that you have alleviated us of our windshield.
Aw. You don’t like how we play?
How about you stop spectatin’ and throw in, cher?
Or do we have to worry about you getting
sentimental about old times?
FRECKLE: [laughing]
Now what? Now what?
Brakes!
Gyaah ha ha! [gunfire]
[gun clicks]
[tires squeal]
ROCKY: Turn here! Make a left! IVY: What? What turn?
ROCKY: Hang louie! Left Hook! IVY: Let go!
ROCKY: Sinister! Port! IVY: There’s no left here!
[clock ticking]
ROCKY: Use your imagination, Miss Pepper!
IVY: Dang it! Rocky! I can’t steer!
[clock ticking]
[gunshot] [tires squeal]
IVY: Whoa! [warbling scream]
[smash]
[crash]
[maniacal laughter]
[door slams]
Oh, is it playtime now?
Do you think we’re safe?
[fabric rips] [low growl]
[strained] Sorry! Sorry.
I didn’t mean to. It’s just that
there’s a ho- a fire.
A burning hot fire i- in, uh.
In the eh c- engine compartment!
IVY: [gasps] FRECKLE: [sighs]
BOTH: [cough] IVY: The radiator!
[sizzling] IVY: [inhales sharply]
Hot hot hot!
[unhinged laughter]
[throaty cackling]
[echoing thud]
[door creaks]
[cackling]
[lights buzz]
Ooooh!
Oh, the world is full of magic things!
I just need a ticket to ride.
[light sparks] [carnival music starts]
CARNIVAL BARKER: Step right up! Get your tickets! Get your popcorn!
Watch the world’s most idiotic stuntman
ride an elephant through a flaming gauntlet of-
IVY: Well, I’m nearly out of sleeves and ideas.
ROCKY: [laughing] IVY: The engine is still too hot!
I don’t even know if this-
You said there was a pistol in here somewhere?
There’s always one wedged in the seat.
IVY: Well, I guess that’s a gun.
[gunfire] BOTH: Ah!
I’ll draw them away. You start the car.
Please.
[gunfire]
This is going to take longer if you scatter them.
What happened to you that made you hate fun?
[tiny gunshot]
MORDECAI: [sighs] I’ll take care of that.
MORDECAI: Disable the vehicle.
[engine struggling]
Raspberries!
Aha!
[gunshots]
[clock ticking]
[gunshot]
IVY: [grunting]
[gasps]
Hi.
Ah! [gunshots]
IVY: [screams] FRECKLE: [gasps] No. No no no no no!
No! [gunshots]
MORDECAI: Four, five, six.
[gun clicks]
[gunshot] Agh!
NICODEME: [laughs] IVY: [muffled cries]
Bonsoir, mes amis.
[rumbling]
[clock ticking]
[explosion] ROCKY: [maniacal laughter]
[laughing] What the hell is this?
Child, that’s eleven kinds of stupid!
[explosion]
The sudden circus comes to town!
ROCKY: [cackles] [explosion]
The behemoth and the top-hat clown. [explosion]
Come gather, gather all around. [gunshot]
See them rain their fire down! [explosions]
[laughter] [gunshots]
Serafine!
[explosion]
[coughing]
IVY: [whimpering]
[gasps]
FRECKLE: [coughs] IVY: What’s happening?
Rocky.
ROCKY: [maniacal laughter]
Ahh! You can brandish up your whip and chair,
[explosion]
ROCKY: but the circus train’s a blazin’ tear!
[explosion] ROCKY: [cackles]
Said the clown with daring air,
“We’ll make our three rings anywhere!”
[metal clunk]
Whoop! [fabric tears]
[coughs and spits]
[loud clang]
[metal screeching]
[cricket chirps] [explosion]
[rushing water]
[cat hiss]
[rushing water]
[water dripping]
[engine starts]
FRECKLE: Rocky!
Come on, mudbug!
Ohhh. We got to skedaddle!
[clock ticking]
[sighs]
[panting]
Oh, are my eyebrows still on?
Uhh, yep.
Aces!
Here, Freckle. I got you a souvenir.
[screams]
ROCKY: You’re supposed to light it first.
NICODEME: Hoo. BOTH: [laugh]
SERAFINE: Nico! [coughs]
Brother of mine, help me up.
Cher, you look disappointed.
[sign creaking]
MITZI: “And though scrutinized and scandalized
and troubled in the end by depleted finances–”
Hm. Familiar story.
“–Miss Duncan leaves behind, moreover,
a legacy of consummate artistry
and bold innovation.”
Done in by a scarf.
The comic end that makes the tragedy, doesn’t it?
Speaking of tragedy,
we got an old supplier back.
The funeral home.
Still, it’s not the same
without you.
And that feeling that all of this
was ours.
[sighs]
Used to be we could drive a whole convoy of trucks in.
[horrible scraping noises]
Now we’re just digging for scraps.
Well, however unbecoming, Atlas,
that’s my cue.
Meet you downstairs.
[door creaks]
[string bass music]
Miss M!
Horatio.
MITZI: The door, sweetheart. HORATIO: Oh! Right.
[sighs]
MITZI: [sighs] WICK: How’s the weather, madam?
Ah, right. The difficult business of, uh, business.
You could certainly be of some help.
Except I’m supposed to be a pillar of the community.
Baron of the industry.
WICK: Upstanding citizen, you know? ZIB: [laughs]
He said, bent over his illicit beverage.
Oh, thank goodness. I wasn’t sure you were alive.
Zib!
Shouldn’t you be up on stage playing?
Pft. For who?
That guy?
How about you, Wick?
Shall I serenade you personally?
Uhh.
Once I’ve had a few more illicit beverages, perhaps.
I suppose I could use one of those, too.
Viktor?
[glass squeaking]
Viktor, I know it’s an adjustment,
but the bartender’s got to look like someone
the patronage can tell their troubles to.
[glass shatters]
More of a confidante. Less of a
coroner.
MITZI: Try smiling, honey.
[growls]
[sighs]
We’ll work on it.
ROCKY: Bum bada dum bada bum bum bum!
FRECKLE: Hello. ROCKY: We made it, everyone!
IVY: I drove the car! FRECKLE: Sorry.
ROCKY: We made it! FRECKLE: About the carpet.
[sad trombone]
J.J.!
J.J.: Sorry. MITZI: Well,
look what the Mississippi spat up.
Miss M, you seem, uh…
…surprised.
Rocky, sweetie,
you are nothing if not an exhausting, incomprehensible…
[cork pops] …surprise.
Thank you!
This was supposed to be the real McCoy.
Let’s see if that’s the surprise.
[alcohol pouring]
[glass cracking]
[shudders]
Well, [clears throat]
it’ll certainly start your engine.
ZIB: Which is to say, [clears throat]
it beats radiator fluid.
WICK: What’s that aftertaste?
Hm. Crisp, full-bodied, um,
reminiscent of oak wood...
WICK: Coffin varnish! VIKTOR: Yeah.
We can call it, eh, “Sunset Rose Cocktail.”
Sunset Rose Cocktail?
That sounds good!
[growls]
Psh!
You have no idea what I went through to get this.
I have very good an idea.
[glass cracking]
[spits]
[coughs]
Mmm! Sophisticated flavor.
[cat trill]
[upset cat trill]
So. Not bad, then?
ALL: [mumble in agreement]
MITZI: Better than getting shot.
Still, is this all we got for our money, honey?
You look like you took a bath in the rest.
Well, I could probably wring some more out of my coat for you.
There was a minor incident?
ROCKY: Incidences.
[sighs]
The likes of what?
ROCKY: Oh, just some spent ammo and-
Desecrated graves.
Fractured signage,
minor flooding, lots of structural damage.
Uh, we may have fomented a deadly rivalry on the way, too.
But dynamite and heavy machinery are marvelous problem-solvers.
Eh, old sport?
[sputters] Dynamite? What dynamite?
And the car is fine.
I fixed it!
[sounds of car falling apart]
Also, you’ll be happy to know my violin
came through unscathed.
[string snaps]
J.J.: [starts playing “Taps”] MITZI: I know you did your best,
honey, but we can’t keep running ourselves ragged and into the red
to bring a meager…
J.J.: [music gets louder] MITZI: W- what I mean is,
ah, I don’t see how this,
uh…
ALL: J.J.!
You know what?
I’m glad you and your violin are back, honey.
We could all use some music about now.
I mean, besides J.J.
All right, all right. Come on, kid.
What do you say we go lighten the mood?
Uh, about the dynamite…
ZIB: [hums “Blue Skies”] WICK: …and the machinery.
WICK: Can you elaborate? ROCKY: Mr. Sable.
WICK: Eh, right. Cheers.
IVY: Come on! You owe me a dance. ZIB: Something in 4/4, Mozzie.
FRECKLE: I do? IVY: Yes! I’ve decided.
IVY: You know the Charleston? FRECKLE: No.
IVY: The Lindy Hop? FRECKLE: No.
IVY: The Roundabout? The Jingle Jangle?
IVY: The Hoopty Noodle?
FRECKLE: I have a head injury.
IVY: I’ll show you.
IVY: You just gotta put one foot over there
IVY: and one over there.
And then swing a foot over here.
[Music: “Sunset Rose Cocktail” by M Gewehr]
[musical transition]
[music fades]
SECRETARY: Maribel Hotel.
SECRETARY: Manager’s office.
MORDECAI: [sighs]
MORDECAI: Connect me to Mr. Sweet,
MORDECAI: please.
MORDECAI: Rather unfortunately, we were sidetracked.
MORDECAI: The vehicle has been disabled and,
MORDECAI: on the whole, the evening has not gone according to plan.
ASA: Let me see if I have this right.
ASA: Ruthless, infamous hatchetman Mordecai Heller is calling me to
ASA: ask for a ride?
Yes.
ASA: [raucous laughter]
However, Mr. Sweet. It seems-
ASA: Wha- what am I, your dad? [laughs]
It seems we have a more considerable problem at hand.
ASA: What? Someone mussed your hair? You got some dirt on ya? [laughs]
As a matter of fact, yes.
But more to the point,
one of our suppliers appears to be double dealing.
To stragglers from Lackadaisy of all things.
They’re clumsy and likely to draw attention.
With the feds in town-
ASA: Yeah, that’s a real liability.
And I can only stave off so much heat from the higher-ups
before this whole city starts smoldering.
Oh, those dragons.
Having given it some thought,
MORDECAI: It does appear to warrant our attention.
Right, then.
Time to tie up some loose ends.
[Music: “Feathers N Fringe” by Albert Marlowe]