Preface
Theresia and co.wrote this right after SP left broadway. Now that Douglas has left the show, it seems to take on a greater meaning...we assure you, there is none whatsoever. We do not pretend to have any insight whatsoever on actual cast members' personalities or lives. This was written in a time when they had no Internet, no knowledge of a national tour, and no relief from the ever-present desire to belt out in public places "TAKE ME TO YOUR FROU-FROU!" So they spent the summer of '99 pretending they were cast members. Then they wrote their exploits down. This is the result.
The only cast member they have ever actually met was Mr. Ron Bohmer, who seems like a very nice man, and therefore was graciously left out.
Part I: Shedding
(Scene: Theresia's bedroom, where she is dozing quite comfortably until awakened by shrill barking)
Theresia: (slowly becoming concious) Wa?
(a small, gray dog leaps onto her stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of her.)
Rascal: Hey there!
Theresia: It talks?
Rascal: You betcha!
Theresia: But--it'a a puppy--and it's (breathlessly) six inches tall.
Rascal:(defensive) I am a full-grown mini-miniature husky. I resent being called a puppy.
Theresia: (calling her bodyguard) Faucon--who is this, and how'd he get in here?
Rascal: Well, you could ASK me!
Faucon: What is your name, pup--and to whom do you belong?
Rascal: I'm Rascal.
Faucon: And you belong...?
Rascal: To PimperSills!
Theresia: Pimpersills! (shoots out of bed) He belongs to the actor--broadway's first scarlet pimpernel--(grabs him) Tell--me--everything!
Faucon: I have heard much about this puppy.
Rascal: Put me down, willya?
Faucon: He is no angel, this dog. He--not critics, not drooping first-season sales--HE was responsible for the broadway Scarlet Pimpernel's financial trouble. Several millions by way of eaten props--
Rascal: Hey.
Faucon: Damaged scenery--
Rascal: Hey!
Faucon: Cast members' missing lunches--
Rascal: HEY!
Theresia; (grabs pencil, notepad, and reading glasses) But he is going to tell me everything about the show, the people, where they are now...isn't he?
Rascal: Maybe I will, and maybe I won't.
Faucon: We have ways to persuade you.
Rascal: I don't like the sound of that.
Faucon: In fact, we have a large bag of (reads label) kibble.
Rascal: Ha-cha! (bounds into a reclining chair, dons a little pair of shades, and tosses bits of kibble in his mouth). I'll give you the highlights, you can tell the story. Now, waaay back in SP1...