Having a little free time on his hands, Tim has decided to give some thought
to that long-delayed jazz album. As we join our intrepid trio, they are at
the recording studio, listening to the band warming up...
Tim: That's Jerry on the vibes -- love those hot licks he belts out.
Dix: If you fancy hot licks...
Rowan: What did you say the name of this group is?
Tim: Feline Resurrection, why?
Rowan: Ah. Makes one think lovingly of vivisection.
Dix: Oh, they aren't that bad. Have you decided which songs you're going to
cover yet, Tim?
At this moment a man in a Brinks uniform enters with a large satchel in hand.
He looks at his clipboard and walks over to our friends.
Brinks Guard: Excuse me, I have a delivery for Mr. Curry?
Tim: That would be me. (He signs his name in the space indicated on the
guard's receipt page and the man hands him the valise.)
Dix: Are you having your laundry done privately again?
Tim opens the bag...it is filled to the brim with packets of money.
Rowan: My, your fans really know how to get your attention.
Tim: This isn't the first time either...I've been receiving great wodges of
cash from some anonymous donor all week. Let's see if there's a note this
time...
Dix: I don't see one. But I smell something. Like cinnamon?
Tim closes the valise and stuffs it under a chair.
Tim: Hmmm. Well, we can go into it later. You asked which songs I'll be
doing -- well, I thought that I couldn't do better than to reprise some of
Lady Day's bitter blues numbers for a start. Like, "You Let Me Down,"
"Moanin' Low" and of course... (He begins to sing:)
"Sunday is gloomy / My hours are slumberless / Dearest, the shadows about me /
Are numberless..."
Dix: Not "Gloomy Sunday!!" Not with its record of disaster!
Tim [continuing:] "...Little white flowers / Will never awaken you.../ Not
where the black coach / Of sorrow has taken you..."
Rowan: My, that's a cheery little thing.
Dix [hands over her ears:] Tim!! That song was banned from radio for a
reason -- several people committed suicide after listening to it. The
composer himself jumped out of a window years after writing it...
Tim [grinning:] Now, you know that I'm not superstitious..."Angels have no
thought / Of ever returning you, / Would they be angry / If I thought of
joining you..."
Rowan: Point taken...enough of this subterfuge -- why are the Spice Girls
sending you all this money, Tim?
Tim [blushing:] Touche'. Their agent, Hedgeway Mousebottom, thinks that my
voice would be the perfect foil for theirs on their next album...
Dix: Sacrilege!!! You'll join up with the Sp*ce G*rls over my recumbent and
lifeless body!!!
Rowan: The "recumbent" part sounds most attractive...but why are you
asterizing their names?
Dix: On the Blackadder List, they've become a fashionable new swear word, as
in "Now, just a Sp*ce-G*rling minute!"
Tim: I've already declined their flattering offers. I keep sending back the
money, but they're difficult to discourage.
Dix: Let me handle it...
. . . . . . . * . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . *
Our friends are tired but happy after an eight-hour stint at the recording
studio. Tim has taped a dozen beautiful jazz tracks with Dix backing him up
on her instrument of choice, the triangle...
Rowan [plaintively:] Are you quite sure that you don't want to include my
goblin song? It has a wistful, neurotic quality that's quite crowd-
pleasing...
Dix: Let's save it for the next one, Ro.
Tim: Or the one after that.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Next day our adventurers return to the studio to listen to the playbacks --
and are horrified to hear the sound of girlish voices blended in with Tim's
rich baritone.
(Tape: "...doo-wah, doo-wah,-- Guhl Powah!!!"
Dix: There's dirty work at the crossroads, fellows.
Dix, Tim and Rowan confront the man in the control booth.
Tim: Say, you're not Freddy. Where's our regular mixer?
Rowan: And who are you?
The shifty-looking man replies,
Man: Uh, Freddy got a better offer...he's doing travelogues for the BBC.
I'm, umm, Basil Teagarden...
Dix: "Basil," hmm? A Spice-y alias, I would guess. Let's have that tape
(she pulls it off the machine) -- it would set Tim's career back twenty years.
Rowan: We'd better find another studio, that hasn't been infiltrated by
condiments..
As Tim, Dix and Rowan head down the sidewalk toward Tim's Acura, they do not
notice a large gray van creeping along behind them. They stop at the entrance
to the parking lot and Tim reaches into his pocket for his car keys.
The van pulls up to the curb and five girls in minimalistic costumes leap
out...
Dix and Rowan are pushed aside and the attackers pounce on Tim --
Posh: Don't bend the merchandise!
Scary: Save some for me!
Baby: This is for your own good -- (getting a hammerlock on Tim, who is too
much a gentleman to defend himself against her).
Sporty: Toss him to me!
Ginger: Quick!! Into the van!!
Rowan: You know, this reminds me of Wild Kingdom. The bit where the
lionesses pull down the antelope and turn it into small canapes..
Dix starts forward to aid Tim.
Rowan: Watch yourself -- I've heard that one of these young ladies has a green
belt in karate.
Dix: Not to worry -- *I* have a gold belt! (She whips off the gold snake belt
at her waist and uses it to snare Baby Spice's ponytail, freeing Tim.)
Rowan: Gold? I thought that black was the highest rank.
Dix: Well, don't tell anyone, but I got it for accidentally carelessly
disemboweling a couple of my sparring partners.
Rowan: Really?
Dix: Slit them from chin to brisket...forgot to trim my fingernails. The
instructor gave me the belt to go away...
As she is talking, Dix has pulled a large spray can from her purse and aims it
at the Spicies who are closing in for the kill:
Dix: Try a little pepper -- *that'll* spice up your lives!!
Tim, Dix and Rowan sprint down the parking lot to the car, leaving a knot of
weeping, sneezing, brightly Spandex-clad antagonists behind...
. . . . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . *
After evading the determined assault (salt, get it? ;-)) of the saucy Sp*ce
G*rls, Tim, Dix and Rowan have gone undercover (their favourite spot) while
they regroup and formulate a plan.
We find them in their cunning hideout -- Disneyland.
Dix: This was a great idea, Tim. They'll never think of looking for us here.
All three of them are soaking wet at the moment, having just exited "Splash
Mountain."
Rowan: That ride could use a little more, umm, excitement, don't you think? I
could speed it up a bit...
Tim: Put away that screwdriver -- we saw what you did in "Bean." Let's go
get our picture and find a quiet spot where we can formulate a plan.
Dix: You're sure you boys don't want to go on the teacup ride?
Rowan: That one makes me actively ill, thank you.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Our friends have paused for a bite to eat at one of the Park's outdoor cafe's.
Tim: I'll have a bowl of clam chowder. Those hollowed-out bowls of French
bread are delicious.
Dix: Better have the veggie plate -- you said that you were watching the
calories.
Rowan: Oh, let him enjoy himself.
Dix: I'm thinking of his new TV series, "The Tim Curry Show." Pefect title,
by the way. Those cameras add pounds to one's weight. And don't you have
something to share with us too, Ro?
Rowan [sighing and picking up a stalk of celery:] Well, Blackadder is about
to ride again, figuratively speaking. I have bowed to the inevitable.
Tim: What century will he be desecrating this time?
Rowan: The first one -- Edmund will appear as one of Jesus' disciples.
Baldrick will be a pointless peasant, as always.
Dix has taken a spoonful of chowder and is choking on it. Tim and Rowan
perform a flawless Heimlich maneuver on her and she recovers.
Dix: Don't say things like that when my mouth is full! So that's why you've
been letting your beard grow.
Rowan: Sorry. (He hands her a napkin.) So, Tim, what's the plotline for your
new program?
Tim: Well, it's supposed to be kept under wraps, but I'll be doing a variety
show with some new Henson creatures.
Dix: We know that much -- what else?
Tim: Every week, I will be (leaning closer, he whispers)...
Rowan: An interesting concept. But won't the SPCA object? I mean, those
animals *are* endangered.
Tim: (whispers again)...
Dix: And you'll have a song on every show? Marvelous!!
Tim: There'll also be a running bit where I do impressions of scenes from old
movies -- Peter Lorre in "Casablanca" (in Lorre's voice:) "Hide me,
Rick!!--You've got to hide me!!", Ginger Rogers in "Gold Diggers of 1933,"
(singing in Pig-Latin:) "..e're-way in-way e-thay oney-may..."
Dix is giggling when the waitress comes over to bring their check. Then out
of the corner of her eye she notices...
Dix: Don't look now, but that group of sight-seers has spotted us.
Tim: Oh, no,--it's those Sp*ce-persons!!
Waitress: Quick,--I know a back way out of here!
Dix: Stephanie!!
Maria [also in waitress outfit:] We'll distract them. Most of the Timbos are
here and we'll run interference for you. Hurry!
. . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . . . . *
After spotting the Sp*ce G*rls in their immediate vicinity, Tim, Dix and Rowan
were unexpectedly aided by Stephanie and Maria. Our friends now follow the
girls through a maze of topiary hedges at the border of Toon Town and are met
by a seven-foot-tall "Eeyore," who leads them to the "Characters' Changing
Room."
Eeyore: Hurry,--choose some outfits.
Dix [looking startled:] Is that you, owlett?
Owlett: Yes. And that's Christine Z (pointing to an oversized "Tigger" who is
patting Tim on the head) and Cuz Carol (a huge "Winnie the Pooh" giving Rowan
a hug). We'll try to smuggle you out of the Park before the Sp*ce G*rls catch
up with us.
In a matter of moments our friends have donned their disguises: Dix as Peter
Pan, Tim as Captain Hook and Rowan makes a convincing fearsome crocodile. They
make their way to the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride unmolested.
Rowan: It's dark in here (gesturing toward his croc snout). What's going on?
Tim: Shh. We're mingling with the animatronic "pirates" and "townspeople."
Dix [suspiciously:] I'd swear that those two "wenches" aren't part of the
display -- look, that one in the indecent frock is Michelle!
Tim: You're right -- nice tattoos, too. And the other one with disarranged
clothing seems to be...a left-handed-pathetic-paranoid-psychotic-sarcastic-
wiseass-ditzy pseudo-blonde...
Rowan: My, you're good. Wonder why she has "Bloomington" stencilled on her
knickers?
Dix: So she can be returned if found wandering, I suppose.
Tim feels a tug at his arm and looks up to see "Quasimodo" hovering
obsequiously.
Tim: Oh, hello, Josh. Come to help us evade our pursuers?
Josh: Aye, aye, Sir. Bryan has bribed one of the guards with a block of
tickets to your new TV taping...This way.
As our friends thankfully exit the employees' gate, Tim gives Josh his card.
Tim: Bring all your friends if you like. I always give a better performance
when I see familiar faces in the audience.
"Tigger" suddenly pops out from the hedge near the gate, wagging "his" tail.
Tigger: I'll walk you to your car, shall I?
Dix [drawing Pan's sword:] That's all right, Christine dear, we can find
it...
At that moment, a sleek green van draws up and Cap'n Martha leans out of the
driver's seat:
Martha: Hop in. The Sp*ce G*rls posted their manager, that Mousebottom
creature, in the parking lot to keep an eye on your car. If you return to it,
they will pounce.
Tim [doffing his Captain Hook plumed hat gracefully:] At your service, Ma'am.
Rowan: Right. That's it -- this head comes off now. (He pulls off the
crocodile head and blinks in the sunlight.) Are we being kidnapped again?
Dix: No, we're among friends (opening the back door of the van, she
flinches). LOTS of friends. Hello, Betty B, Betty T, Briana, Dani, Linda F,
Linda E, Jamie, Dina, Jacquie, Connie, Cindra, Cynthia...
. . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . *
Thanks to Cap'n Martha's expert driving, our friends and the Timbo crew made
it safely back to Tim's mansion, unimpeded by the thwarted Sp*ce G*rls. They
are now settled comfortably in the living room, discussing Tim's new TV show.
Tim: As you all know, I've had to put the jazz album on the back burner again
while I gear up for this new project.
SFX: Groans from the Timbos.
Tim: But I'll be singing on each show, and we'll put an album together that
way.
SFX: Cheers from the Timbos.
Rowan: And maybe there'll be room for my goblin song?
Dix: You can sing it to me, baby. (She strokes his hair and he picks up her
hand and kisses it.)
Tim throws them a dark look.
Tim: I thought we agreed: no PDA's.
Dix: Don't sulk, Tim, I still have fingerprints from where you grabbed me on
the pirate ship.
Tim: I was, umm, steering you to safety.
The Timbos are getting restless, so Tim gives them one of his blinding smiles.
Tim: I want to thank all of you for your timely intervention during our
escapade -- and what better way than to ask you to appear on my show?
SFX: Squeals of delight.
Dix: Yes. I've put together a few suggestions...(she hands some sheets of
paper around). Who wants to go first?
Linda F, Betty T and Cuz Carol whisper together, then jump to their feet.
Dix: Okay, you can do the authentic Ukrainian folk dance.
As the charming dance progresses, Linda, Betty and Carol spin in intricate
designs. They also begin to remove articles of clothing and toss them gaily
into the audience...
Dix: Hang on a minute -- let's see that program. "Ukrainian '*Fertility*'
Dance." Next!!
Patty M comes forward and seats herself at the piano. She begins to play and
sing:
Patty: "I can't give you anything but love, Timmy, / While the moon and stars
shine from above, Timmy / So -- lock the doors and I'll be yours!! / I can't
give you --"
Dix: NEXT!!
A row of eight "Tapdancing Timbettes" lines up: Dina, Jamie, Arlene, Christine
Z, Cindra, Cynthia, Connie and Betty B. Cap'n Martha plays, "I Got Rythm"
while the Timbettes go into their precision routine.
Rowan: Say, they're quite professional...
Dix: Wait for it.
The Timbettes wrap up their number with a flourish -- they whirl in unison,
bend over and flash their matching red satin undies, spelling out "H-O-T C-U-
R-R-Y."
Dix: Next...
Tim [blushing:] Well, perhaps for the Christmas show...
Rowan: They weren't exactly unprepared for the audition, were they?
Dix: The Timbos are ALWAYS prepared. For anything.
Bryan and Josh have retired to the kitchen during the musical numbers. Bryan
now makes his entrance in full Frank-N-Furter ensemble, Josh beside him in a
Riff outfit.
Bryan: "Howja do? -- I see you've met my faithful handyman--"
Dix instantly pulls the Persian scarf off the piano and drapes it over both of
them and pushes them back into the kitchen...
After all the Timbos have demonstrated their impressive skills, Tim, Dix and
Rowan look at each other speculatively.
Tim: What do you think?
Dix: Choir robes. Floor-length.
Rowan: No naughty lingerie acts, then?
Tim: Well, I *would* like *this* show to last more than three episodes.
Dix: They'll be fine, trust me. An angelic chorus will add just the right
touch -- why, you could sail to Heaven with the Timbos aboard. (She hands
Martha a music sheet.)
Dix: Hit it, Cap'n Ma'am...
. . . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . . *
In hopes of creating a wholesome production number for Tim's new series, the
Timbos gathered around the piano and raised their voices in:
A Hymn to Tim
(tune - "Ode to Joy")
Who's the actor we adore so?
Surely he was born to rule.
Gazing on his manly torso,
Who can blame us if we drool?
It's Tim Curry, star charismatic,
Bright as the lights that spell his name;
Be he comic or dramatic,
--Let us celebrate his fame!
Sound his glory to the nation;
Sing his praises near and far...
Then we'll move for deification --
For our Tim, a god-like star...
Dix: Uh-oh, someone's been tampering with the lyrics. Hold it right there.
Tim: Right. Back to Plan A.
Rowan: Ah, good. Nothing like a bit of slap and tickle...
SFX: {slap!!}
Rowan: Oh, sorry, Tim. I meant that tickle for Dix.
. . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . * . . . . . . . . . . *
The Timbos have all left (it wasn't easy, but a few of them have lives and
they convinced the others) and our trio are alone in front of Tim's fireplace.
Tim [thoughtfully:] You know, I think that we treated the Sp*ce G*rls a bit
shabbily. They do have a big following, after all.
Dix: Especially Ginger. She needs to do some sit-ups.
Tim: I think that I should offer them a guest spot on the show.
Rowan: Surely you could just send them money.
Dix becomes very busy poking up the logs in the fireplace.
Tim: Dix...
Dix: Umm, they've gone back to London (taking a telegraph blank out of her
pocket).
Tim [reading:] It seems to be an offer from Elton John to do an album with
them. "Condimental Journey." That sounds...dreadful.
Dix: I know. But they'll fall for anything.
Rowan: Wicked girl. But resourceful.
Tim: Yes. I think she deserves a spanking...
The End (in every way)
