Enter DAISY GRIME, a CLOWN, accompanied by FOOLS, HARLEQUINS, and JESTERS.
GRIME
I say ‘tis dirty, wicked, foul, and dark --
An opportunity both miss’d and scorn’d --
That vampires of any shape or shade
Would drink the blood of innocence most pure
When Pepsi costs a dollar sev’nty five.
FIRST FOOL
O lady, I must ask, and tell the truth:
Wherever in this God’s green holy land
Canst thou obtain this drink for such a fee?
I’ve seen no less than fifty-five pence more.
GRIME
A hospital, good sir.
SECOND FOOL
(Does some figures)
And might I ask
Wherever in this land (of any hue)
Is fellow who two dollar thirty pence
Dost pay for si of Pep?
GRIME
Not I, i’faith.
I pay a mere two shillings short of two.
And, once again, I pay in hospital.
CANADIAN JESTER
I pay a hefty two and half for mine.
But in my blood runs maple syrup, too.
GRIME
O Jester fine, I pray thee, still thyself.
Thou stray’st from this, our mode of speaking here.
FIRST FOOL
But blood costs naught but time.
SECOND JESTER
Aye, that is true;
But sir, remember this in figuring:
A Pepsi, too, is free, if stolen ‘tis.
FIRST FOOL
I see, but -- wait, another thought occurs.
Wherefore, I ask thee, for what reason, sirs,
Dost Lady Grime buy Pepsi from the house
Of healing, birth, and death?
GRIME
‘Tis simple, friend.
Allow me to explain to thee the cause.
The Pepsi sold by those who follow in
The footsteps of St. Luke, Evangelist
Is sold for a mere dollar sev’nty five.
FIRST HARLEQUIN
(Aside, to SECOND HARLEQUIN) Why wouldst a vampire drink Pepsi, then?
SECOND HARLEQUIN
(Aside, to FIRST HARLEQUIN) Why wouldst an honest man drink Pepsi, sir?
FIRST FOOL
A femboy, it would seem.
(There is general applause and agreement.)
Enter KONAHRIKS De’ACTIVAT EDZOZ ESQ., a SCHOLAR and WARD OF THE SKY.
WARD
You see, my friends, this selfsame story tells
The truth of why the incubus’s tale
Is one that bears to no more to be declared.
I’ll tell you all my reasons three. The first:
The wealthy ghoul who drinks the common blood
Is overused and stale, like molding bread;
But also hangs upon the teller’s face
A pallid, gasping idol worship mask.
The second mark I tally here along:
A vampire who sucks the blood from men
Does hold up in the mind a mirror cold.
This mirror shows that, far from fantasy,
The vampire is real, ‘tis Elon Musk.
The reason third is simple, clean, and pure:
A werewolf’s just, like, sexier, my dudes.
(GRIME dances like a ferret. There is rejoicing.)
Enter LARA, FELAGUND, and SHERLOCK, accompanied by the MANGO MERCHANT.
LARA
I feel these words have struck me to my core.
Is this, the world, collapsing to the ground
Or is it just my weary, shaking soul?
FELAGUND
‘Twould seem my lady needs to see St. Luke.
SHERLOCK
I’ve heard his fellows sell a Pepsi cheap.
(The MANGO MERCHANT offers a mango. All weep.)
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