Jordan’s heart swelled at the star treatment she received from Paradigm Studios. Legions of lackeys catered to her every whim, the craft services table was overflowing with goodies, and the most talented backup singers formed a diverse, multi-cultural chorus. An entire orchestra had been set up to provide musical accompaniment. Moreover, Guy Kincaid was handsome and dashing as usual.
From his position in front of a microphone stand on a soundstage, Guy ogled his co-star. “Jordan, darling, you’re an absolute vision. Shall we take it one more time from the top?”
Jordan leaned into her microphone. “Ready when you are.”
Guy and Shirley sat in front off the stage in unfolded director’s chairs. The cherubic faced, bespectacled Rudy Benson, assistant producer of Chop It Off, joined the duo.
“You were right, Dag,” Rudy said. “Your girl is an angel.”
“Have I ever steered you wrong?” Dag asked.
“Dozens of times,” Rudy answered.
Dag shook his head. “Everyone in this business has a memory like an elephant.”
A stagehand clacked the top of a clapperboard down. “Chop It Off: The Lorena Bobbitt Story, Sound Test Auditions, Take 2 and action!”
Dag spotted a script in Rudy’s hand and yanked it. “Do you mind? It’s been recently brought to my attention that I need to read these things.”
Chop It Off: The Lorena Bobbitt Story – Production Script
ACT 1
(It’s the 1990s. An enraged Lorena Bobbitt enters her bedroom to find her husband, John, fast asleep. She raises her hands. She’s holding a man’s shirt with a lipstick stained collar in one hand and a butcher’s knife in the other. She breaks out in song.)
LORENA BOBBITT:
He cheated…again!
(Chorus girls fill the stage, all dressed like neighborhood housewives.)
CHORUS:
Yes, he cheated again! Why, oh why can’t you see?
LORENA BOBBITT:
That he had carnal relations with someone other than me?
CHORUS:
Oui!
LORENA BOBBITT:
My eyes are open now! It’s clear what I have to do!
CHORUS:
Get in the car and leave him now! For divorce you’ll have to sue!
(Lorena raises the butcher’s knife.)
LORENA BOBBITT:
I’ll make it so he can never cheat on me again! I’ll separate him from his tiny friend!
CHORUS:
Um, no we were just thinking that you could just take all his money in court. Make him open up his wallet, but to be violent is to be a bad sport.
LORENA BOBBITT:
But if he goes to court, he’ll find another woman and we all know he’ll cheat on that poor girl too. No, to end this vicious cycle, there’s only one thing left to do.
(Lorena belts out a showstopper.)
LORENA BOBBITT:
Oh…I’m…going…to…chop it off!
CHORUS:
No, this plan will surely fail!
LORENA BOBBITT:
Yes, I’m going to chop it off!
CHORUS:
Think of the headlines! Think of jail!
LORENA BOBBITT:
I’ll be a hero to every woman who ever got the jilt! Now you can chop off your husband’s penis and not feel a scintilla of guilt!
CHORUS:
You should probably feel some guilt.
LORENA BOBBITT:
Oh, I’m going to chop it off! It’s what I was born to do! I’ll chop it off for me…
(Lorena looks out as if she is acknowledging all of the women in the audience.)
LORENA BOBBITT:
…and I’ll chop it off for you!
ACT 2
(John Wayne Bobbitt wakes up. He gets out of bed, stretches and yawns. He breaks out into song.)
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Something is missing…
(A chorus of neighborhood husbands flood the room.)
CHORUS:
Don’t you hate that feeling? Is it under the bed? Is it stuck to the ceiling?
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
What did I loose? It is my keys? Is it my shoes?
CHORUS:
Something isn’t right! What a terrible fright!
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m feeling most indignant. Something is amiss. Something feels so different.
CHORUS:
Did you lose your wallet? We think we saw it on the coffee table!
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
No, it’s not that, but I just feel so unstable.
CHORUS:
Did you lose your day planner? We think we saw you drop it on the stairs.
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
No, but this has caught me unawares.
CHORUS:
How frightful to know that something is gone, but to not know what is missing.
(John Wayne Bobbitt heads to the bathroom, lifts up the toilet seat and drops his pants. He shuts the door behind him.)
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Oh well. Maybe I’ll figure it out while I’m pissing….ARRRRRGGGGH!
(John Wayne Bobbitt opens the bathroom door and returns to the bedroom.)
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Where is it?
CHORUS:
Where’s what? You look live you’ve been hit by a rock!
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
My penis! My Johnson! My cock!
CHORUS:
It’s not there?!
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
No sirs, at this very moment I’m wearing empty underwear.
CHORUS:
It’s probably the last place you left it.
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Could it be in the kitchen? Could it be in the sink? I’m sorry that I’m bitchin’ but this is enough to make a man drink!
CHORUS:
Where, oh where is your best pal? That is what we must know!
(John Wayne Bobbitt looks around.)
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Hey! Did anyone see Lorena go?
(A knock at the door. John Wayne Bobbitt opens it. A police officer holds up a plastic bag. It contains a penis.)
POLICE OFFICER:
Sir, is this yours?
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
Why, yes! Where did it go? It’s never left me before!
POLICE OFFICER:
We need to get you to a doctor. See if it can be sewn back on.
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
My God! Will it ever work again? Will an erection it ever yield?
POLICE OFFICER:
I have no idea. We found it at the edge of an abandoned field.
JOHN WAYNE BOBBITT:
But officer! Please, tell me! Will it ever produce a load?
POLICE OFFICER:
What do I look like? A dick scientist? It was just lying there on the side of the road!
Bookshelf Battle 