The improvisational comedy group THE HARBINGERS OF TURPI- TUDE take the stage. Ideally, they are dressed alike in matching t-shirts that say THE HARBINGERS OF TURPITUDE, but they could be just in stage-worthy street clothes: anything from nerdy to glamorous. Everyone could maybe be working a theatrical “this is who I am” look, but it’s not essential. On stage somewhere there’s a small prop table (or better yet, a coat rack) with costume pieces on it: cowboy hat, Kaiser helmet, red glitter boa dress, rubber ducky, crutch.
They come into the playing area headed by group leader STEVE-O. He is wildly enthusiastic. GABBY and LOOMIS are somewhat lackluster but go- ing through the motions of team spirit. They all have bottled water with them, and drink as frequently as possible, like what they do is super hard work. This dialogue can be really loose. Paraphrase away, please.
STEVE-O. (Super cheerful:) Good evening, folks! Totally awesome of you to
join us here tonight! Why don’t you give yourselves a round of applause! OK! Just in case you haven’t hear of us, My name’s Steve-o, and the intoxi- catingly lovely woman to my left, sorry fellas, she’s taken! My fiancé, Gabby!
GABBY. Hi, I’m not his fiancé. Steve-o, I’m not your fiancé…
STEVE-O. She’s a sketch! And together, we are the improvisational comedy
team: the Harbingers—
LOOMIS. (With a wave:) I’m Loomis. I’m in the group, too, Steven.
STEVE-O. Right. And Loomis. Can’s forget Loomis. We are the Harbin-
gers of Turpitude!
(All strike pose, as they will every time the group’s name is said.)
And to get our first “sketch” up and running, we’re going to need a little help from you, the audience! OK! Give yourselves a round of applause for helping us out in advance! Woo! OK! To start us off, we need a suggestion from the audience of a location. A location. That’s a place. Anybody? We’re looking for a location.
MISS OHIO. (She is positively Ruth Gordon-esque.)
(If anyone in the audience suggests anything for real, try to call it out at the same time, so it sounds like a lot of real suggestions, but it’s okay if MISS OHIO’s is the only one.)
A barbershop!
(STEVE-O cups hand to ear, listening to suggestions. He makes up his own answers anyway.)
ROBIN GOLDWASSER 46
STEVE-O. A hayloft on a small dairy farm…in upstate New York. Terrific.
Okay. And we’ll need a relationship…for the players…that’s us. Who we are. Anyone? Just shout it out…
(Again, listens to audience but ignores any suggestion.)
MISS OHIO. You’re a barbershop quartet…with one missing!
STEVE-O. A farmer and his wife, good, good, (Pointing to LOOMIS:) and
the farmer’s wife’s secret lover. Okay! Awesome! Lots of possibilities there! Terrific!
(STEVE-O dons straw hat from prop table.)
GABBY. (Simultaneously w/Loomis’ line:) Steve-o, that was not the suggestion. LOOMIS. Are you not even going to try to do this? We could like totally do
the barbershop quartet thing…like, a cappella.
STEVE-O. The hayloft on a small dairy farm. Upstate New York. Here we
go.
(While miming something incoherent, he speaks w/Southern accent:)
Well, Maw, looks like the spotted heifer done gone dry agin. What more trouble kin we expect in these dark tahms?
GABBY. What the fuck are you doing…Paw?
STEVE-O. Why you silly old hen, Ah’m settin’ up the still so’s we can make
us somma that good corn likker!
GABBY. Really.
STEVE-O. Shoot, yeah! GABBY. That’s great “Paw.”
STEVE-O. Now, Maw, why don’t you run along and whup me up some vit-
tles! Wait! Who’s that behind you? Is that you’rn secret lover you’ve been having a secret affair with which everybody in Upstate New York knows about but me?
LOOMIS. Steve-o, what’s your problem? You want to talk about some-
thing, fine let’s talk, but this is not exactly the forum—
STEVE-O. Steve-o? Who’s Steve-o? My name’s Jedediah and this here’s my
fucking dairy farm in Upstate New York, and yer trespassin’, son! (Starts to
physically go for him in potentially fighting way.) And the Dairy Council of Upper
New York State says I got the law on my side iffen I was to kill yer bony skate-punk ass. (Drops accent, mocking:) Oh I’m Loomis, I’m so alternative, I’m so transgressive, I tattooed my pierced asshole—
LOOMIS. Dude, can you take a breath? Gabby, I am so not doing this— GABBY. Hold on, Loomis. (To audience:) Sorry folks. We’ve had some recent,
well, shake-ups in the old Harbingers of Turpitude Headquarters, and—
MISS OHIO. LaGuardia Airport!
THE HARBINGERS OF TURPITUDE 47
LOOMIS. I like so totally quit.
GABBY. Loomis, I did not give up my Saturday night shift at Bandito’s to
be publicly shamed, okay? Let it go; we’ll discuss it later.
MISS OHIO.You’re my stewardess…
GABBY. Sir, we’ll get to you later. MISS OHIO. I’m a ma’am, lady.
STEVE-O. Um, I think I’m ready to lead the team, thank you, Gabby, my
bright and precious smoldering jewel…
GABBY. (Simultaneous w/LOOMIS:) Fine. Fine. Lead away… LOOMIS. Do it to it, Steve-“o.” Take control, pally.
STEVE-O. Okay, we’re improvising now! Woo! Okay! We just need a— MISS OHIO. The bar car on the Metro North—
STEVE-O. —we need a location—
MISS OHIO. —to Mamaroneck! Ha! Riddle me that one, you bloopy-
doops!
STEVE-O. Anybody? Anybody at all?
MISS OHIO. The bar car, it used to be smoking, you know? You could
smoke like a chimney, no one’d say boo…Boo! Ah!
STEVE-O. Anybody else?
MISS OHIO. Oh, the times we had! Scarin’ each other, sayin’ Boo! LOOMIS. Sir, what’s you’re, like, problem?
MISS OHIO. It’s Ma’am! Actually, it’s Miss! STEVE-O. The top of Mount Everest. Terrific! GABBY. This is not working for me anymore, Steve-o.
STEVE-O. And I’m the seasoned mountain guide, (Dons Kaiser helmet:) and
I’m guiding my future wife, Gabrielle, to the top of the mountain.
LOOMIS. Am I invisible, here? Like, what is the dilly-o, Steven?
STEVE-O. Gabrielle! You must protect yourself against the brutal elements!
Quick! Put this flack jacket on! (Hands her red sequined gown with marabou trim.)
GABBY. Steve-o, you wanna talk about it? Let’s talk.
LOOMIS. Hey, like hello-o! Hello-o! Like, I’m here, too! Someone, me,
gave up the 2:45 A.M. slot at Arlene Grocery to be here, so don’t shut me out, okay?! Shouldn’t I be part of the cabal or expedition party or something?
STEVE-O. Yes. And your name is Bloop. LOOMIS. (Beat.) Bloop. Cool.
STEVE-O. And sadly we had to kill you and eat your flesh, Bloop. You had
a game leg. It was humane, I assure you.
ROBIN GOLDWASSER 48
LOOMIS. (Bursting into tears:) You all…totally…suck! I quit! I quit and I’m
going to kill myself!
(Running to back of theater:)
I quit, and I’m going to kill myself…and you’re all going to watch! I’m jumping off the balcony!
(Runs up little balcony area steps, looks over edge:)
Okay, that’s not tall enough! I’m going to jump out the back door of the Ohio Theatre and you’re all going to watch!
(He throws open latch. If it takes a while, he can ad-lib what we’re going to see: his bloody corpse, his mangled limbs… He hovers whole waiting for a reaction.)
MISS OHIO. (Wandering onto the stage:) My mother was a Metzner Girl. They
were like the Zigfield Girls, only prettier!
STEVE-O. (Consults secret stash of index cards hidden in helmet. Reading from cards:)
Oh, Gabrielle, now that I have you here alone, and we’ve sated ourselves on the flesh of our brother, I have something to tell you, my beloved…
GABBY. Loomis, don’t jump. It’s probably a big mistake.
STEVE-O. (Still reading:) With every inelegant fiber of my coarse being, with
every common drop of my common blood, and with each passing second, tic-toc, tic-toc, I love you more and more…
(Flips to next card:)
…and more.
MISS OHIO. Miss Ohio, I was. From 1954-1957, undefeated! Could do it
again, too. If it weren’t for my sciatica.
GABBY. Loomis, get back in here!
STEVE-O. (Still reading:) It is with trembling hands I offer to you this: the
key to my apartment, and ask you to be my official girlfriend, to share my lease, and 3 squares a day, except for I don’t eat eggs. I’d have maybe an English muffin, a little juice, nothing fancy, my love…
GABBY. You’ve got that all written down? STEVE-O. (Not hearing her:) I hate eggs.
GABBY. Not to nit-pick, but isn’t that sort of antithetical to the long tradi-
tion of improvisation?
LOOMIS. I’m, like, jumping…you guys! God, I totally hate my life!
GABBY. Shut, like, up, Loomis, for a second! Please! Steve-o, I’m asking
you, did you script an improvisation?
STEVE-O. No. Hey look, a rubber ducky! (In desperation, picks up the duck
from the prop table.)
MISS OHIO. I am Miss Ohio! This whole damn place is mine. I don’t need
your handouts. I got me a goddamn theater! The Ohio Theatre! And you are all my goddamn guests!
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