After my quick experiment with The Real Slim Shady Musical, I decided I wanted to try something more original – though equally ridiculous.
I want to write a stage musical in the style of Rodgers & Hammerstein.
Simple enough. Wasn’t sure yet what the musical was going to be about. It returned the following song:
The first thing that came to mind as I heard this grand musical unfold in song was what would be the most unlikely thing to be the focus…an outhouse.
Continue with a related track that talks about building an outhouse.
This created a new song about “Our Grand Palace, Our Crescent Moon”
But now that I had identified the centerpiece of the musical, what would be the drama?
Continue with a related track sung by the small town’s mayor who upon using the outhouse gets a sliver.
Oh no! What will happen to the Mayor? In this frontier town, a sliver from the outhouse seat could be the recipe for disaster!
Continue with a related track sung by the mayor’s wife who is mourning the mayor who lies on death’s door due to the infection from the sliver.
What a turn! From all the hope of the pioneers building their town and electing their new mayor, to the death of their Mayor!
Now that large portions of the Lyrics were written, I circled back to have Gemini help me to write some of the Book.
Help me write the musical book for the first scene where a wagon train of pioneers descends upon a nice place in the prairie to build a town. And they park their wagons and start to get building.
Scene 1 – The Tall Grass
SETTING
A vast, untouched stretch of the American prairie. High summer.
AT RISE
The stage is empty and silent. Then, we hear the distant, rhythmic thump-thump of a drum, mimicking a heartbeat or a heavy footfall.
SCENE START
(The first wagon crests the “hill” upstage. It’s dusty, battered, but draped in a defiant white canvas. COOPER, a man with a map and a mission, stands at the front.)
COOPER (Calling back) THIS IS IT! HOLD THE LINE! WE’VE REACHED THE CREEK!
(The ensemble—the PIONEERS—spill onto the stage. They are exhausted but electrified. The music begins: a low, driving cello line that builds into a folk-infused anthem.)
CHORUS NOT ANOTHER MILE. NOT ANOTHER LONG DAY’S DUST. WE’VE TRADED THE ROAD FOR THE RIVER, AND THE IRON FOR THE RUST.
(The wagons park in a semi-circle, creating a natural arena on stage. MEN begin unhitching horses; WOMEN start unloading heavy crates. Every movement is choreographed to the beat.)
COOPER (Spoken over music) ELIAS, GET THE TRANSIT! WE MARK THE SQUARE FIRST. CHURCH ON THE EAST, SHERIFF ON THE WEST. WE AREN’T JUST CAMPING, PEOPLE – WE’RE ANCHORING.
ELIAS (Wiping sweat) THE SOIL’S BLACK AS INK, COOPER. YOU COULD GROW A CITY IN A WEEK HERE.
CHORUS (Building in volume and harmony) UNFOLD THE CANVAS, UNTIE THE KNOT. THIS BIT OF EARTH IS THE ONLY BIT WE’VE GOT. DROP THE TAILGATE, CLEAR THE STONE – WE’RE BUILDING A TOWN TO CALL OUR OWN!
(The “Building” begins. This is a percussion-heavy sequence. PIONEERS use hammers, saws, and shovels as instruments. The rhythmic “clack” of wood hitting wood becomes part of the orchestration.)
The town is taking shape, no time to waste. But what about the people? Who will take these Pioneers and make them Townfolk?
Great. Add a new scene to the Book where COOPER tells about his past and why hey came on this adventure.
SCENE 2 – The Founder’s Fire
SETTING
Nightfall. The camp is a silhouette of half-finished frames and wagon tongues. A small fire flickers center stage.
AT RISE
COOPER is seated on a crate, a compass in one hand and a tattered, folded letter in the other. ELIAS approaches with two tin mugs of coffee.
ELIAS THE BOYS HAVE THE SOUTH PERIMETER STAKED. SOIL’S DEEPER THAN A WELL, COOPER. YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT THE VALLEY.
COOPER (Without looking up) I WASN’T RIGHT, ELIAS. I WAS JUST OUT OF OTHER DIRECTIONS TO TURN.
ELIAS (Setting the coffee down) YOU DON’T TALK MUCH ABOUT THE ‘BEFORE.’ MOST OF US ARE RUNNING FROM A DEBT OR TOWARD A GOLD MINE. BUT YOU? YOU LOOK LIKE A MAN TRYING TO OUTRUN HIS OWN SHADOW.
(ELIAS exits quietly, leaving COOPER alone. The orchestra introduces a lonely, haunting fiddle melody—sparse and Americana.)
COOPER (Spoken over music) MY FATHER BUILT A MILL IN PENNSYLVANIA. STONE BY STONE. HE TOLD ME, “COOPER, A MAN IS ONLY AS TALL AS THE ROOF HE PUTS OVER HIS FAMILY.” THEN THE BANK CAME. THEN THE FIRE CAME. AND WHEN THE SMOKE CLEARED…THERE WASN’T ENOUGH STONE LEFT TO HEADSTONE A GRAVE.
(He stands, his voice shifting into a gravelly, melodic baritone.)
COOPER (SINGS) THEY TIGHTENED THE NOOSE IN THE VALLEY. THEY SHUTTERED THE WINDOWS IN TOWN. I WATCHED EVERY BEAM THAT MY FATHER HAD BLESSED COME CRASHING AND CINDERING DOWN.
I CARRIED THE ASH IN MY POCKET. I CARRIED THE DEBT IN MY BONE. BUT A MAN WITHOUT LAND IS A GHOST IN THE WIND – A KING WITHOUT EVEN A THRONE.
(He paces the “square” of the new town, looking at the stakes in the dirt.)
COOPER SO I TURNED TO THE WEST LIKE A FEVER. I SCRIPTED A MAP OUT OF DUST. BECAUSE HOPE IS A LIAR WHO PROMISES GOLD, BUT SURVIVAL…SURVIVAL’S A MUST.
(He looks at the tattered letter in his hand—perhaps a photo or a deed.)
COOPER I’M NOT BUILDING FOR GLORY OR STATUES. I’M NOT BUILDING TO CONQUER THE WILD. I’M BUILDING A DOOR THAT NO BANKER CAN BREAK – AND A ROOM…FOR A GHOST OF A CHILD.
(The music swells, then thins out to a single sustained note as he folds the letter away.)
COOPER THE PRAIRIE IS BIGGER THAN FAILURE. THE PRAIRIE IS DEEPER THAN REGRET. WE’LL PLANT EVERY SEED IN THE SCARS OF THE PAST, AND WE HAVEN’T SEEN…OUR BEST HARVEST YET.
(COOPER blows out the lantern. The stage goes to a deep, starlit blue.)
We have our damaged lead who is looking for a new start, with new hope. But no new start is without its problems. What about opposition to our hero?
At the end of the last Scene, Gemini had asked:
Would you like me to write a scene for the “Opposition”? Every town-building story needs a character who thinks Cooper is leading them into a trap or a disaster.
So I replied:
Please do.
SCENE 3 – The Bitter Root
SETTING
The edge of the camp. A storm is brewing on the horizon – the sky is a bruised purple.
AT RISE
SILAS is sharpening a knife on a whetstone. The sound is rhythmic and metallic (shhh-chk, shhh-chk). ELIAS is nearby, trying to hammer a fence post into the ground, but hitting rock.
ELIAS (Frustrated, wiping grit from his eyes) THIS GROUND’S GOT A TEMPER, SILAS.
SILAS (Without looking up, the whetstone continuing its rhythm) THE GROUND DON’T HAVE A TEMPER, BOY. THE GROUND JUST IS. IT WAS HERE TEN THOUSAND YEARS BEFORE COOPER’S MAP, AND IT’LL BE HERE TEN THOUSAND YEARS AFTER YOUR BONES ARE PART OF THE SILT.
ELIAS COOPER SAYS WE’LL HAVE THE FIRST ROOF UP BY TUESDAY.
SILAS (Laughs, a dry, rattling sound) TUESDAY. COOPER’S GOT “FOUNDER’S FEVER.” IT’S A DANGEROUS SICKNESS. IT MAKES A MAN LOOK AT A DUST BOWL AND SEE A CATHEDRAL.
(The music shifts—a low, dissonant woodwind melody, creeping in like the coming storm. SILAS stands, his shadow long and jagged.)
SILAS (SINGS) I’VE SEEN A HUNDRED ‘HOPETOWNS’ CRUMBLE. I’VE SEEN A THOUSAND ‘NEW DEALS’ DIE. A MAN COMES WEST WITH A POCKET OF SEEDS AND A BEAUTIFUL, BLOODY LIE.
THE PRAIRIE LETS YOU TILL HER BELLY. SHE LETS YOU THINK YOU’VE WON THE FIGHT. THEN SHE SENDS THE LOCUST, THE DROUGHT, AND THE COLD – AND SHE SWALLOWS YOUR TOWN IN THE NIGHT.
(He walks over to ELIAS’ fence post and kicks it. It wobbles.)
SILAS YOU’RE DIGGING A GRAVE FOR A DREAM, BOY. YOU’RE HAMMERING NAILS INTO AIR. COOPER’S GOT VISIONS OF STEEPLES AND CHIMES – BUT THE DUST DOESN’T LISTEN TO PRAYER.
(A low rumble of thunder. The ensemble — the tired TOWNFOLK — begin to gather in the background, watching the clouds with unease. SILAS turns to them, his voice rising.)
SILAS WHEN THE WELL RUNS DRY IN AUGUST! WHEN THE WINTER LOCKS THE GATE! DON’T LOOK TO THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN MAP – FOR THE MAN WHO LED YOU TO YOUR FATE!
(COOPER enters from his tent, hearing the last few lines. The two men lock eyes. The music turns into a tense, rhythmic pulse.)
COOPER (Spoken, sharp) IF YOU DON’T LIKE THE SOIL, SILAS, THE ROAD IS STILL BEHIND YOU. YOU’RE FREE TO WALK IT.
SILAS (Sheathing his knife) I’M A REALIST, COOPER. I’M STAYING TO SEE WHICH HAPPENS FIRST – THE TOWN GOES UP, OR THE PEOPLE GO UNDER.
ELIAS (Looking at the horizon) THE WIND’S PICKING UP.
SILAS (A final, chilling note) THE WIND IS THE ONLY THING…THAT EVER TRULY…STAYS.
(A massive crack of thunder. The TOWNFOLK begin to scramble to cover their wagons as the first heavy drops of rain hit. Blackout.)
Oh, there’s a storm brewing there! But what about Cooper, it’s time for the townfolk to recognize his optimism and guiding light!
In the next section, COOPER is elected the mayor of this new town.
SCENE 4 – The First Ballot
SETTING
High Noon. The sun is beating down. The frames of several buildings are now visible, skeletal and raw.
AT RISE
The ENSEMBLE is gathered. There’s an air of nervous excitement. A wooden crate has been turned upside down to serve as a stage. MARTHA holds a tin cider pot; ELIAS is holding a hat filled with scraps of paper.
ELIAS (Shouting over the chatter) QUIET DOWN! THE SUN’S AT ITS PEAK AND THE INK IS DRY! WE’VE GOT FORTY-TWO SOULS ACCOUNTED FOR, AND FORTY-TWO SCRAPS IN THE HAT!
MARTHA (To the crowd) IT’S MORE THAN JUST A NAME ON A PAPER, NEIGHBORS. IT’S A PROMISE TO STAY WHEN THE CREEK FREEZES OVER!
(The music kicks in—a bright, Americana “Hoedown” rhythm. Fiddles and a jaunty banjo. This is a “Community Song”—fast-paced and optimistic.)
CHORUS (SINGS) WE’VE GOT THE MUD ON OUR BOOTS, BUT THE DUST IN OUR HEADS IS CLEARING. WE’VE GOT THE WOOD AND THE NAILS, AND THE END OF THE ROAD IS NEARING.
WHO’S GONNA HOLD THE KEYS? WHO’S GONNA DRAW THE LINE? WHO’S GONNA STAND IN THE RAGING RAIN AND SAY, “THIS PIECE OF DIRT IS MINE”?
(ELIAS pulls the final scrap of paper from the hat. He looks at it, then at COOPER.)
ELIAS (Spoken) BY A MARGIN OF THIRTY-EIGHT TO FOUR… I GIVE YOU THE MAYOR OF HOPE’S END. COOPER!
(The crowd erupts. COOPER is pushed toward the crate. He looks humbled, almost frightened by the sudden weight of it. SILAS stands at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, one of the “four” who clearly didn’t vote for him.)
COOPER (Holding up his hands) FRIENDS… I DIDN’T COME HERE FOR A TITLE. I CAME HERE FOR A FLOOR THAT DIDN’T SHAKE.
MARTHA (Teasing) TOO LATE, MR. MAYOR! SPEECH!
(The music drops to a steady, rhythmic “walking” bass line. COOPER steps onto the crate.)
COOPER (SINGS) I DON’T HAVE A GOLDEN CHAIN. I DON’T HAVE A MARBLE HALL. MY OFFICE IS THE OPEN PLAIN, MY DESK IS A WAGON WALL.
BUT IF YOU GIVE ME THE WEIGHT OF YOUR TRUST, I’LL GIVE YOU THE STRENGTH OF MY BACK. WE’LL TURN EVERY BIT OF THIS PRAIRIE DUST INTO A RAILROAD TRACK!
CHORUS HE’LL TURN THE DUST TO THE TRACK!
COOPER WE’LL BUILD A SCHOOL FOR THE BRAVE!
CHORUS A SCHOOL FOR THE BRAVE!
COOPER AND A TOWN THAT NO HUNGER CAN SLAVE!
CHORUS (Full, soaring harmony) STAKE THE CLAIM! WRITE THE NAME! RAISE THE MAYOR OF THE PRAIRIE FLAME! FROM THE MUD TO THE SKY, WE’RE ASCENDING – WITH A BRAND NEW DAY AND A HOPE UNENDING!
(The TOWNFOLK hoist COOPER onto their shoulders. They begin a celebratory dance—a “Square Dance” style choreography that mimics the layout of a town grid. Even the cynical SILAS is forced to step aside as the momentum of the crowd sweeps past him.)
SILAS (Muttered, as the music peaks) HEAVY IS THE HEAD THAT WEARS A CROWN MADE OF STRAW.
(The song ends in a massive, coordinated “strike” of hammers against wood. Freeze frame.)
We have a new Mayor! And the storm clouds circle still.
While there is still so much story to tell, I wanted to jump ahead to the tragic turn – the splinter!
Later in the musical, Cooper goes to use the newly built outhouse and when sitting is stuck by a splinter which he now fears will cause him an infection.
SCENE 10 – The Splintered Seat
SETTING
Sunset. A small, freshly painted wooden outhouse stands alone stage left. The rest of the town is buzzing with the sound of a distant fiddle rehearsal.
AT RISE
COOPER emerges from the outhouse. He is walking with a strange, stiff-legged gait. He stops, winces, and reaches back to gingerly touch his backside.
COOPER (A hiss of breath) SWEET HEAVENS… OF ALL THE OAK IN THE TERRITORY…
(He limps to a stump and tries to sit, then immediately stands back up with a yelp. The music begins: a plucked, nervous violin pizzicato—the sound of a “tightening nerve.”)
COOPER (SINGS) I’VE FACED THE WOLF IN THE WINTER. I’VE FACED THE FLOOD IN THE SPRING. BUT I NEVER THOUGHT A TINY SPLINTER WOULD BE THE END OF EVERYTHING.
(He peers over his shoulder, trying to see the injury.)
COOPER IT’S BURIED DEEP IN THE PROMISE. IT’S HIDDEN UNDER THE PINE. A PIECE OF THE TOWN HAS TAKEN A BITE OUT OF THIS MAYOR OF MINE!
(ELIAS enters, carrying a bucket of water. He stops and watches COOPER’S contortions.)
ELIAS MR. MAYOR? YOU’VE GOT A LOOK ON YOUR FACE LIKE YOU’VE SEEN A GHOST. OR A TAX COLLECTOR.
COOPER (Stiffly) THE OUTHOUSE, ELIAS. THE “FIRST OFFICIAL PUBLIC WORKS PROJECT.”
ELIAS A BEAUTY, ISN’T SHE? SANDED HER MYSELF.
COOPER (Grimacing) YOU MISSED A SPOT. ABOUT THE SIZE OF A NEEDLE AND THE TEMPERAMENT OF A HORNET. IT’S… IT’S IN ME, ELIAS. I CAN FEEL THE HEAT. THE “PRAIRIE FEVER.”
ELIAS (Suppressed a grin) IT’S A SPLINTER, COOPER. NOT A CANNONBALL.
COOPER (The music swells into a frantic, minor-key patter song) BUT THE DIRT! HAVE YOU SEEN THE DIRT? IT’S IN THE AIR, IT’S ON THE SHIRT! AND AN OPEN WOUND IS A COFFIN GATE FOR A MAN WHO TRIED TO CHALLENGE FATE!
FIRST COMES THE SWELLING, RED AND ANGRY, THEN COMES THE CHILL, THIN AND HANGRIED! BY TUESDAY NEXT, THE TOWN WILL CRY, “OUR MAYOR DIED FROM A PIECE OF LYE!”
(SILAS wanders by, overhearing. He leans on his cane, enjoying the spectacle.)
SILAS (Spoken) TOLD YOU THE GROUND WOULD TAKE ITS TOLL. JUST DIDN’T THINK IT’D START WITH YOUR BACKSIDE.
COOPER (Whirling around, then wincing) THIS IS A LEADERSHIP CRISIS, SILAS! IF I’M SEPTIC, WHO HOLDS THE GAVEL? WHO SIGNS THE LUMBER DEEDS?
SILAS (Chuckling) WELL, IF THE INFECTION REACHES YOUR BRAIN, I SUPPOSE WE’LL JUST ELECT THE OUTHOUSE. IT’S CLEARLY GOT MORE “BITE.”
COOPER (Ignoring him, singing to the sky) IS THIS THE END OF THE NEW FRONTIER? BETRAYED BY A BOARD AND A POOR VENEER? OH, THE HISTORY BOOKS WILL BE SO UNKIND – TO THE MAN WHO LEFT HIS PRIDE… BEHIND!
That last line! Did Gemini know what it was doing with the use of “behind”? I was always vague about where the actual splinter wound was…
Can anyone save the Mayor?
The next scene is of the new doctor who has come to town and how he tries to help the mayor, but it’s too late.
SCENE 11 – The Doctor’s Arrival
SETTING
COOPER’S tent. A single lantern casts long, flickering shadows. COOPER is lying face down on a rough cot, clutching a pillow.
AT RISE
DR. PANKHURST enters. He is wearing a coat that has seen better decades and is scrubbing his hands with a grey rag. ELIAS stands in the corner, looking pale.
DR. PANKHURST (Voice like gravel in a tin can) MOVE THE LIGHT CLOSER, ELIAS. I CAN’T TELL IF THAT’S A PUNCTURE OR A PIGMENT OF THE IMAGINATION.
COOPER (Muffled into the pillow) IT’S THUMPING, DOCTOR. IT HAS A PULSE. IT’S…IT’S COLONIZED ME.
DR. PANKHURST (Sighing, pulling a massive pair of iron forceps from his bag) EVERYTHING IN THIS TERRITORY IS TRYING TO COLONIZE SOMETHING ELSE, MR. MAYOR.
(The music begins: A slow, ominous “Oom-pah” rhythm, like a funeral march played by a tipsy brass band.)
DR. PANKHURST (SINGS) I’VE PULLED A BALL FROM A SOLDIER’S KNEE. I’VE SAWED A LEG IN A WALNUT TREE. BUT A PRAIRIE SPLINTER… SHE’S A WILY FOE. SHE TRAVELS FAST WHERE THE VITAL WATERS FLOW.
(He pokes the area. COOPER lets out a high-pitched “G” note.)
DR. PANKHURST SEE THE PURPLE? SEE THE STREAK? THE VIGOR IS STRONG, BUT THE FLESH IS WEAK. I COULD POULTICE THE WOUND WITH BARK AND LYE— BUT THE WOOD HAS DECIDED… THAT THE MAYOR MUST DIE.
COOPER (Bolting upright, eyes wide) DIE? FROM A FENCE POST? I SURVIVED THE OHIO RAPIDS! I SURVIVED THE GREAT FIRE!
DR. PANKHURST (Putting a heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down) NATURE’S A FUNNY BOOK, COOPER. IT DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR RESUME. IT JUST CARES ABOUT THE ROT.
(The music swells. The ENSEMBLE appears in the shadows outside the tent, humming a low, mournful dirge.)
ELIAS (Spoken) IS THERE NOTHING? A TONIC? A PRAYER?
DR. PANKHURST (Packing his bag slowly) I COULD CUT. BUT BY THE TIME I REACHED THE HEART OF THE GRAIN, I’D HAVE HALF THE MAN LEFT. THE INFECTION HAS “SHAKEN HANDS” WITH THE BLOOD, ELIAS. IT’S A FORMAL INTRODUCTION NOW.
COOPER (His voice becoming weak, melodic) THE TOWN… THE SQUARE… WHO WILL BREATH THE PRAIRIE AIR? I BUILT THE SEAT… I SAT THE THRONE… AND NOW THE SEAT… HAS CLAIMED MY BONE.
(SILAS appears in the tent flap, looking uncharacteristically somber. He removes his hat.)
SILAS (Spoken) I TOLD YOU, COOPER. THE GROUND DON’T HAVE A TEMPER. IT JUST WANTS WHAT’S ITS OWN. YOU PUT YOUR STAKES IN THE DIRT… NOW THE DIRT PUT A STAKE IN YOU.
DR. PANKHURST (Final verse, leaning over Cooper) THE FEVER IS CLIMBING THE STAIRS OF YOUR SPINE. THE VISION IS BLURRING THE BOUNDARY LINE. YOU WANTED TO ANCHOR? WELL, ANCHOR YOU SHALL. IN THE SIX-FOOT-DEEP SOIL… OF YOUR NEW CAPITOL.
(COOPER reaches out a trembling hand toward his map on the wall. His hand drops. The lantern flickers and dies.)
CHORUS (OFFSTAGE) STAKE THE CLAIM… WRITE THE NAME… HOPE IS A WHISPER… IN THE PRAIRIE FLAME.
(TOTAL BLACKOUT)
Wow, there’s a lot in there. I loved “..pigment of the imagination…”
But alas, nothing DR. PANKHURST could do was good enough to save the Mayor. The heart of this prairie town is in ruins.
..I could certainly do more, but this experiment was an exciting look at what Gemini could do, but also a humbling look at what Gemini can do. Is it “original” if I just guided the direction? Is it “original” if no other human chose word after word?
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