I predict:
1. I am going to develop another crush on Matt Shofner.
2. I am going to invite myself over to Liz Earnest's apartment to have her braid my hair a la Juliet.
3. I am going to wax nostalgic for the days when I lolled around that stage in my purple sweatshirt evening gown whining to Evan Nasteff about how David Bridgewater wouldn't stop arguing with Melissa Johnston-Price long enough to buy me a bigger tiara.
*****
What actually happened:
I developed another crush on Matt Shofner. This happens routinely. Not when he's playing a wooden puppet and I'm playing an opinionated egg. Not when he's playing a flighty homeschoolee and I'm playing an obsessive compulsive adoptee with a lisp. Nope. Only when he's dressed as a newsboy doing box steps or as an overly confident transvestite car-washing an elderly conservative. Or, as I learned tonight, when he's naked except for nineteen vests making Shakespeare EFFORTLESSLY ACCESSIBLE.
Act 1: Matt enters holding an enormous pretzel stick. Melissa enters wearing what I'd bet my entire apartment is Alexander's tunic from "The Lion in Winter." Modified for boobs, of course. Irene enters with a Bump-It in her BANGS.
So the gist of this play is- a bunch of people who have discovered their mutual love of tunics decide to get together and throw a party. It's all going well until Miss Liz comes downstairs having had the nerve to wear a full body doily. SO not the fashion. The boy at the party with the most stylish haircut- being a connoisseur of any new and trending fashions- takes a liking to Miss Liz and her adventurous attire, and invites her to stand with him on a table in the center of the room.
Normally, this kind of behavior would've caused a stir, but fortunately everyone is distracted by their slow motion flash mob AND the fact that Daenerys Targaryan has just shown up to the party.
Melissa -who really runs the house- takes advantage of the dance break to grill Daenerys about what the hell she's doing there. I mean, it's common knowledge that "Game of Thrones" is hip-deep into filming their final season somewhere in the undercarriage of New Zealand and she's probably inconveniencing a lot of people.
Following the party, Miss Liz decides that it would be super romantic to languish about on her balcony and talk loudly about the boy with the cool hair in hopes that he might happen by. And he does. After some initial indecision about where would be the most compelling place to lurk, he settles on downstage right where he's found a particularly alluring gobo.
This reverie is brought to a close when everyone in the city named Matt descends upon the garden. They're drunk. They just cannot get over Daenerys being at the party. Crotches are fondled, epithets issued, and then we all retire.
Having really enjoyed the convo in the garden the night before, Miss Liz decides she'll go ahead and marry the boy with the nice hair. She has the option of marrying Axle, but that gets weird because he's going out with her mother.
Bo Wilson's the only guy around who can perform the ceremony- but he proves tricky to find. After much searching, Miss Liz and her intended happen upon Bo, clad head-to-toe in burlap and pretending to yank plants out of wooden platforms. After some inquiry, it is unveiled that Bo is doing character immersion research for the potential role of a monk in the next installment of "The Charitable Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants." He has a few moments though - so he marries those crazy kids.
Post-ceremony, Hairy Husband tells Miss Liz to run along to the house- he'll be there in a minute. One can only assume that he intends to stop into the nearest bodega for wedding night essentials-- condoms, olive oil, wax seals.
But in an unfortunate turn of events, pre-bodega, Hairy Husband runs into Matt Shofner. Matt is PRETTY PISSED because despite his best and, quite frankly, admirable efforts of sculpting his own hair into an absolute work of art, this new boy is getting all the attention. So he challenges him to a fight to the death. As one does. Things derail, though, with the appearance of a blonde gentleman with a heat tolerance so high he can wear trousers fashioned of drapery fabric. Wisely realizing this to be a greater threat, Matt decides to duel Trouser Man. Matt loses. He exits, sulking, stage right and immaturely refuses to participate in any further scenes of the show until curtain call.
Miss Liz, understandably, is a bit miffed that her new spouse has chosen brawling in the streets over having fresh, brand new sex, but decides to forgive her husband when he offers to re-enact the opening of "In the Heights," Act II. Miss Liz is pretty impressed. Not many people would've placed bets that anyone could look as muscularly attractive as Josh Marin without his shirt on, but Hairy Husband's really got it going on.
We think all will be well for the lovers, but. Here comes Colt. Colt is really excited to be back in Richmond and feeling rather devil may care about most things. Like wearing solid gold shoes. And marrying his daughter off to his wife's boyfriend.
Miss Liz, naturally, doesn't cotton to the idea. For one, she's already married. For two, Richmond isn't that big a city and she would see her motherhusband'sgirlfriend Irene EVERYWHERE. For three, weddings are usually long and boring and the VMFA demands all actors be out of the building by 10:30PM.
So she decides to kill herself.
Bo, deep in the vein of writing a comedy, convinces her to dial back the drama. Just make everyone think she's killed herself.
The ruse is successful. There is keening, which is how you know. Many people go to visit Miss Liz in her tomb. Melissa, Daenerys, Zach Galifinakis (who turns out to be Romeo's father), and Axle.
Axle lovingly places an artificial lily he's just picked up from A.C. Moore on Miss Liz's bosom. He's in the process of contemplating what the hell is going on in his life when Hairy Husband suddenly enters. He's in a tizzy- having had to rush out of the salon upon receiving news of his wife's passing.
Axle is torn. On the one hand, this fellow has robbed him of the opportunity of marrying his girlfriend's daughter. On the other hand, his hair is SO GOOD. Compromising, Axle roars accusingly that he is a "hottie Montague," and draws his sword. Ever a proponent of flair, he draws his cape as well. The two men engage in a beautiful death ballet which results in Axle taking a seat downstage right, in the very same gobo which Hairy Husband found so fulfilling an hour prior. Perhaps they weren't so different after all.
Meanwhile, Miss Liz hasn't drawn breath for twenty minutes. Understandably convinced that she's dead, Hairy Husband chugs some poison. Sadly, this poison wasn't from Bo, but from an actual monk who had no real sense of levity. So he dies.
Miss Liz wakes up and crosses her fingers that Hairy Husband has remembered his prop dagger. Cause what really could happen without that? Improv in iambic pentameter = a tall order. Oh, yes. There it is.
She responsibly stabs herself and falls face down on the slab. Damn. She may have broken her nose. She will have to talk later with Audra about the time she got extremely into a modern dance piece and cracked her nose so hard on the floor she gave herself a nosebleed. Maybe Miss Liz will braid her hair while they talk.
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