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It is evening in the court of Lübeck. The MINISTERS are sat around a small table, playing some archaic game of cards. LÜBECK strolls in, in an identical fashion to the Prelude. The ferrets busy themselves throughout dropping off little bags into their collection hat.
LÜBECK: It is I, Lübeck, Lord Protector of Mecklenburg, Queen of the Hanse.
The MINISTERS look up in disinterest, then return to their game.
LÜBECK: Lord Protector of Mecklenburg. I said. In case you didn’t hear.
MINISTER TWO: We heard the first twenty-seven times.
LÜBECK: Yes, but Pomerania won’t be taking her away this time.
MINISTER ONE: No, Herr Bürgermeister.
MINISTER THREE: Wish they would.
LÜBECK: What was that?
MINISTER THREE: I said, ‘That’s good’. Herr Bürgermeister.
LÜBECK: Your enthusiasm for my conquest is poop, Ministers.
MINISTER ONE: Sorry, sir.
A pigeon flies in and drops a note to MINISTER ONE.
MINISTER ONE: Here’s some news which should prop you up, sir. Our new standing amongst the nations of the world has been officially recognised.
LÜBECK sashays across the stage.
LÜBECK: And so the accolades begin to roll in. First this, next the Imperial Crown, then the slow road to world dominance! So, Minister, what do they say? Are we yet a great power?
MINISTER ONE: No, sir.
LÜBECK: Certainly. Of course. These things take time. A major power, then.
MINISTER ONE: I’m afraid not, sir.
LÜBECK: We’re no medium power!
MINISTER ONE: No, sir. Nothing so grandiose as all that, either.
<Projection changes> LÜBECK turns to look at the screen.
LÜBECK: Small? Small?! Gott in Himmel. A small power. Insig…! Tread caref… ! What in the name of all that is holy were we before? This is an outrage!
MINISTER ONE: You shouldn’t trouble yourself.
MINSITER THREE (coughing into his hand): Minor holding.
LÜBECK: What?
MINSITER THREE: A minor holding.
LÜBECK: We were a minor holding?
MINISTER THREE: Third minister to a minor holding. How do you think I feel? I never even get a name badge.
LÜBECK: That’s it. We must simply conquer more. Let’s annex something.
EVERYONE: No casus belli…
LÜBECK: Yes, yes. Well then, let’s attack Pomerania.
MINISTER TWO: Bad idea, sir.
LÜBECK: And why is that?
MINISTER TWO: Two reasons. Sweden and Brandenburg.
LÜBECK: Ah. Yes. Well, Hamburg then.
MINISTER ONE: Denmark.
LÜBECK: Bremen. We can end the alliance.
MINISTER ONE: Denmark again.
LÜBECK: Lüneburg.
MINISTER ONE: Fine.
LÜBECK: Norway.
MINISTER TWO: Lüneburg’s fine, Herr Bürgermeister.
LÜBECK: Friesland? Silesia?
MINISTER ONE: Sir, let’s go after Lüneburg. They’re a safe target.
LÜBECK: But you said…
MINISTER ONE: My mistake, sir. Of course. Lüneburg are allied with Bavaria who…
LÜBECK: Are half a world away.
MINISTER THREE: Well. If you’re a minor holding, they are…
LÜBECK storms over to MINISTER THREE , waving his finger angrily.
LÜBECK: I’m sure at some point it will occur to me to have a plan to do something very unpleasant to you. Only I haven’t thought of it, yet.
MINISTER THREE: Yes, sir.
LÜBECK turns on the spot , throwing one arm into the air.
LÜBECK: War!
The SOLDIER marches on-stage. He is followed by the CAVALRY, a rotund, little man astride a hobby-horse.
CAVALRY: My liege.
LÜBECK: I am not your liege. I am your Bürgermeister.
CAVALRY: Sorry, sir.
LÜBECK: Do not concern yourself. Get me Lüneburg on a plate.
The CAVALRY goes galumphing off-stage south, past the audience and out the fire exit. The SOLDIER looks a bit wary, then follows. The drums of war, as well as the pots and pans, are now accompanied by an occasional whinny. The fire door flies open, and smoke belches out down the stairs. The CAVALRY and SOLDIER return with LÜNEBURG, played by the same actor as MECKLENBURG, but with a large blue ‘L’ on his lapel.
LÜNEBURG: You can’t annex me!
LÜBECK: No need. You are my vassal, Herr Lüneburg. And I will have your treasury.
LÜNEBURG: All of it? Last time, you only wanted fifty gold ducats.
LÜBECK: Just what have you got in your drawers?
The MINISTERS turn to the audience, looking pained.
LÜNEBURG: More than that.
LÜBECK: Lots more? (rubbing his hands)
LÜNEBURG: One hundred and fifty.
LÜBECK: You know? I always did like you, Lüny. Pleasure doing business.
The SOLDIER and CAVALRY march LÜNEBURG offstage-north. LÜBECK clasps his hands behind his back and starts mulling around the stage.
LÜBECK: This is a most delicious problem. We now have too much money. Our ferr… I mean our merchants rule Europe’s centres of trade, and yet our enemies are secure on our every border. Therefore, what to do? We are not yet ready for Denmark, Brandenburg and Sweden. What to do…
MINISTER TWO: Sir?
LÜBECK: Yes?
MINISTER TWO (to the audience): All together now, like Baldric! (the audience joining in on perfect pantomime cue) I HAVE A CUNNING PLAN! It will cost money, but gain us tremendous strength.
LÜBECK: Excellent! Do tell. Your Bürgermeister awaits.
MINISTER TWO: We hire…
An anticipatory musical dum-dum-dummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
MINISTER TWO: A spy!
LÜBECK: A…
An anticipatory musical dum-dum-dummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
LÜBECK: Spy?
MINISTER TWO: Indeed, sir. A…
An anticipatory musical dum-dum-dummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
MINISTER TWO: Spy!
LÜBECK: Excellent. Call forth the spy!
MINISTER ONE walks regally to the middle of the stage. When there, he hunches over double.
MINISTER ONE: Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst!
Long pause.
MINISTER ONE: Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst!
Something is clearly wrong. MINISTER ONE falls out of character for a moment, staring off-stage east. He shrugs a ‘what’s going on?’. Suddenly, the STAGE-HAND is shoved abruptly onstage. He still has his clipboard, and is wearing headphones. The wire stretches offstage behind him. A coat and some accessories are hurled into his back from the wings. He stoops down and picks them up. Once he’s put on the coat, it’s clear that the headphone wire is trapped. He manages somehow to remove his headphones and thread them through his coat sleeve. Once free, they are tugged from offstage, and go flying through the air. The STAGE-HAND then stoops down and picks the rest of his costume, a preposterous, black moustache and a dagger which has no holster. The STAGE-HAND shoves it clumsily into his coat pocket, from which it dangles precariously.
LÜBECK (trying in vain to cover up his panic): Ah. The spy. Excellent. You’ve arrived.
The STAGE-HAND bows awkwardly.
STAGE-HAND: Yes, sir. Har.
LÜBECK: Oh for god’s sake. You are a spy, not a pirate.
STAGE-HAND: Sorry. I mean, yes, sir. Herr. Ja. Ees goot.
LÜBECK: Did you go to drama school?
STAGE-HAND: What are your orders?
LÜBECK: Yes, of course. My orders. My orders are… well, I don’t know. (turns to MINISTER ONE) What are my orders?
MINISTER ONE: Sir, you need him to create a situation whereby we can lay claim to Mecklenburg and Lüneburg.
LÜBECK: That’s the one. Hit it, poopsie.
MINISTER ONE: But first, he’ll have to infiltrate their spy-rings.
STAGE-HAND: How do I do that?
MINISTER ONE: Blend in.
LÜBECK shoots MINISTER ONE a very droll look and raises his eyebrows. The STAGE-HAND goes wandering off stage-east. Loud whispers can be heard. He returns a moment later looking quite pleased with himself.
STAGE-HAND: Done and dusted, Herr Bürgermeister.
MINISTER ONE: How?
STAGE-HAND: They’re having casting problems all over, I guess. I actually look more like a spy than some of the others. There was this woman with a limp and a bit of hair (indicating his upper lip) just there. Rough.
LÜBECK: Excellent. So, now you must fabricate our claims.
The STAGE-HAND goes sauntering toward the wings once again.
STAGE-HAND: No problemo.
He comes sauntering back on. <Projection changes> The STAGE-HAND dusts his knuckles on his thick, black spy coat.
STAGE-HAND: I do believe I missed my calling.
LÜBECK: Shoosh. Now then, send them some money. We must oily up their palms.
MINISTER TWO: Grease them, sir.
LÜBECK: Whatever. Make them nice-nice.
A small flock of pigeons fly offstage-east. After a few moments, one returns with a small note. It flies directly to LÜBECK. He reads it, rather nonchalantly, wandering listlessly as he does so, mumbling to himself.
MINISTER THREE: Well?
LÜBECK spins in place in an almost dancerly fashion and points at the screen, snapping his fingers.
LÜBECK: Check it out.
LÜBECK then breaks into an ill-advised dance routine. His ‘running man’ soon breaks down.
LÜBECK: Go Lübeck. Go Lübeck.
Finally, an absurd moonwalk takes him off the front of the stage curtain, and he collapses in a heap, with one foot still somehow attached to the stage. There is a palpable moment of silence.
LÜBECK: The first one to make a sound gets the rack.
Lights out.
Excellent! A medium power is always better than a small one. And that stage hand certainly has got full of himself quite suddenly.
I had a rather large laugh while reading this (well, among the many) when at one point I misread one of your stage directions. It actually said, "A pigeon flies in and drops a note to MINISTER ONE." But when I first read it, I read it as "A pigeon flies in and drops a note on MINISTER ONE." :rofl:
I had a rather large laugh while reading this (well, among the many) when at one point I misread one of your stage directions. It actually said, "A pigeon flies in and drops a note to MINISTER ONE." But when I first read it, I read it as "A pigeon flies in and drops a note on MINISTER ONE." :rofl:
Now that the first guy has applauded and earned the rack...TheExecuter leaps into the air and gives a standing ovation, whistling and hooting. The theatre goers sneer at his uncouth style, but also cheer and applaud in a more dignified fashion before milling out in search of restrooms and snacks for sale in the lobby.
Nice work. I especially liked the casting decisions for Luneberg and...
dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuuuunn
the spy.
Nice atmosphere you have going. Keep it up!
TheExecuter
Nice work. I especially liked the casting decisions for Luneberg and...
dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuuuunn
the spy.
Nice atmosphere you have going. Keep it up!
TheExecuter
I must say that spy's acting was brilliant but they must have forgotten to dress him up in his costume. Perhaps that is why... a stage hand? Preposterous!
The lights come up on LÜBECK, sitting on an old wooden throne, pondering deeply some great mystery. The ministers are all sat in a row on a long bench, knitting some sort of long tapestry or banner. The STAGE-HAND comes in and heads for them. MINISTER TWO looks up expectantly, then lowers his head as the STAGE-HAND replaces MINISTER ONE’s KLAUS SIEVEKING badge with a SIGVARD HAHN. MINISTER TWO stares at him contemptuously, then goes back to his needlework.
LÜBECK: Is it done?
MINISTER ONE stares to his right, surveying the work.
MINISTER ONE: Not quite, Herr Bürgermeister.
They go back to work. LÜBECK rolls his fingers in annoyance on the arm of his throne. He chews his fingernails. The SOLDIER stalks out from stage-north, holding a shiny new halberd with a great big bow on it.
SOLDIER: Look everyone, I’m a Man-at-Arms!
The MINISTERS look up blankly, then go back to work.
LÜBECK: Good for you, poopsie. We’re busy.
The SOLDIER storms back offstage, his post-adolescent voice crackling in the distance.
SOLDIER: You’ll be sorry when there’s a war. ‘Where’s the Man-at-Arms?’ ‘Maybe we should have been nice to the Man-at-Arms’. You’ll see!
LÜBECK: Finished?
MINISTER ONE: (Long pause): Finished.
The MINISTERS stand together, displaying their tapestry for all to see. LÜBECK stands and walks stage-south to get a better view. <Projection changes> The tapestry reads: LÜBECK WELCOME THE FIRST ANNUAL EAST ELBIAN IMPERIAL CIRCUS.
LÜBECK: Circus? CIRCUS?! Do I look like a dancing bear, Minister Three?
MINISTER THREE: From here? In this light?
LÜBECK: It is a circuit! The convening of an Imperial Circuit! I am an Imperial Convener! Do you realise the significance of this?!
The MINISTERS exchange bemused looks.
MINISTER TWO: No, Herr Bürgermeister.
LÜBECK: It is the third step to greatness. First we became a small power. But we don’t talk about that. Then we became a medium power. Now that – that we talk about.
MINISTER THREE: Ad nauseam.
LÜBECK: Shoosh. Now, we are an Imperial Convener. We bring the power back home. Back home to daddy, power. (Mimes talking to a child) There you go. Nicer here, isn’t it? We don’t like Austria, do we? No, mean old Austria. Naughty Austria.
LÜBECK suddenly remembers himself and stands rather rigidly.
LÜBECK: A big day. A big day for Lübeck.
MINISTER TWO: Perhaps, sir, we could have a festival in honour of the occasion?
LÜBECK: A most excellent suggestion, Minister Two. See, Three, how easy it is to please one’s Bürgermeister.
MINISTER THREE: I think a festival is a top plan, sir. Perhaps… I don’t know… a circus?
With that, LÜBECK loses all sense of decorum, and goes flying after MINISTER THREE, who runs off, jumping down from the stage curtain and up into the audience. LÜBECK chases after, falling and stumbling the whole way. Finally, they are face-to-face, with a rather PORTLY WOMAN between. She is sat in her seat, with MINISTER THREE behind, and LÜBECK in front.
LÜBECK: I’ll kill you!
PORTLY WOMAN: Is this bit part of the play still?
LÜBECK: I’ve had it with you!
MINISTER THREE: You should relax, sir.
PORTLY WOMAN: Is this that ‘invisible’ theatre?
LÜBECK (to the woman): Shut up, madam. You really shouldn’t talk during the performance. It makes it very hard to keep in character.
While LÜBECK is accosting the woman, MINISTER THREE ducks down behind the seats.
PORTLY WOMAN: Is this modern? I’m not really one for this modern stuff. Give me a good, old-fashioned panto any day.
MINISTER THREE has meanwhile crawled around the seats, and is now standing behind LÜBECK.
MINISTER TWO: Herr Bürgermeister, he’s behind you!
LÜBECK: Oh, no he’s not.
MINISTER TWO: Oh, yes he is!
LÜBECK: Oh, no he’s not!
AUDIENCE: OH, YES HE IS!
MINISTER THREE taps LÜBECK on the shoulder, then goes scampering back to the stage. LÜBECK follows, first in a rage, then slowly with some recovered dignity. By the time he reaches the stage, he is positively sedate. And out of breath.
LÜBECK: Now then, to affairs of state.
MINISTER ONE: Sir, I was thinking.
LÜBECK: Excellent. And?
MINISTER ONE: Pomerania, sir.
LÜBECK: Could you be more specific?
MINISTER TWO: It’s a country, sir. To the east. Go east, you won’t miss it.
LÜBECK: Not specific in that way, Minister Two.
MINISTER ONE: I believe she is ripe for the plucking.
LÜBECK (wincing): Not sure I approve of that language, Minister One.
MINISTER ONE: She is allied to Sweden and Saxony. But Thuringia has recently declared her independence, and Sweden is exhausted by wars with Novgorod.
LÜBECK: Her? She? Why all this ultra-feminism? Can’t a country be a big, strong, strapping man?
MINISTER THREE: Not in our experience, sir.
LÜBECK: Very well. Attack. Get the Man-at-Arms!
SOLDIER (off-stage): I told you so!
The STAGE-HAND comes on and switches LÜBECK’s badge for an ADAM BUDDENBROCK. After he exits, the SOLDIER comes on stage, using his halberd as a walking stick. The CAVALRY follow close behind.
SOLDIER: Exit. Stage-east.
The two go running offstage-east. The usual sounds are heard.
SOLDIER (off-stage): Take that, you dastards! And that! And that!
<Projection changes> The SOLDIER and CAVALRY return, looking a bit haggard, but smiling.
SOLDIER: Vini. Vidi. Kicked their ass!
LÜBECK: Well done, Man-at-Arms! Well done, sir knight!
CAVALRY: No worries, sir. All in a day’s service and all that.
A pigeon flies in and drops a note to MINISTER ONE. As it flies off, the STAGE-HAND comes onstage, and removes his SIGVARD HAHN badge. There is no badge to replace it. MINISTER TWO is apoplectic with glee.
MINISTER TWO (sing-song): You haven’t got a ba-adge! You haven’t got a ba-adge!
MINISTER ONE: You never have one.
MINISTER TWO: But yo-ou do-oo. And now yo-ou do-on’t.
MINISTER ONE punches MINISTER TWO in the shoulder.
MINISTER TWO: Ow.
A pigeon swoops in low and drops a note to MINISTER ONE. He reads it, bobs his head side to side humming to himself, then tosses the note over his shoulder. All eyes are fixed on him. He suddenly looks around.
MINISTER ONE: What?
LÜBECK: The missive?
MINISTER ONE: What?
LÜBECK: The note. Pigeon. Note. Drop. You. And?
MINISTER ONE: Something about a war.
LÜBECK: War? We’re under attack?! MAN-AT-ARMS!!!
SOLDIER (off-stage): I told you so!!!
LÜBECK: Is he going to say that every time?
The SOLDIER starts to emerge.
MINISTER ONE: Not a war with us, sir. We’re not involved.
LÜBECK: As you were, Man-at-Arms.
SOLDIER: Lucky escape this time, mon frère. This time.
LÜBECK: Shut up. Get off the stage. And if I hear another word of French out of you, I’ll be using your tongue as a soap holder.
MINISTER ONE: It’s a war of succession.
LÜBECK: Whose succession?
MINISTER ONE: Scotland.
MINISTER THREE: And we care?
MINISTER ONE: Well, Castille was supposed to inherit the throne, but France has contested it.
LÜBECK: Excellent. Spy!
The STAGE-HAND stumbles onstage, putting his costume back on hurriedly.
STAGE-HAND: Yes. My li… Herr Bürgermeister?
LÜBECK: You must work your magic on Lüneburg.
STAGE-HAND: Right-e-ho. Off I got to Lüneburg. Beautiful town, Lüneburg. I’ll make sure to write.
<Projection changes.>
The STAGE-HAND saunters down stage-south, toward the audience. He stops near a CHINESE MAN in the front row.
STAGE-HAND: Okay. Now, we’re going to have a conversation. I’m the spy. You’re Lüneburg.
CHINESE MAN: Are you talking to me?
STAGE-HAND: It’s like role-playing. I’ll start. Hey there, Lüneburger.
CHINESE MAN: Are you talking to me?
STAGE-HAND: Say, you looking for a spy? I could be one of your spies. I’m an out of work spy, you know.
CHINESE MAN: Are you talking to me?
STAGE-HAND (growing nervous): Yes. Now you say, “Yes, we’re always looking for spies.”
CHINESE MAN: My name is not Loonybird. It is Walter.
STAGE-HAND: C’mon. Just… just say it. “Yes, we’re always looking for spies.”
CHINESE MAN: You are a crazy man.
The STAGE-HAND reaches for his wallet.
STAGE-HAND: I’ll give you a tenner. Okay. Look. I don’t have my wallet with me. It’s back-stage. If you say, “Yes, we’re always looking for spies”, I’ll give you a tenner.
CHINESE MAN: Twenty.
STAGE-HAND: Done.
CHINESE MAN: And billing.
STAGE-HAND: Excuse me?
CHINESE MAN: I want my name on the marquee.
The STAGE-HAND looks around for a superior.
STAGE-HAND: Look, I can’t authorise that. Take the twenty or leave it.
The CHINESE MAN stands, grabs the STAGE-HAND’s hands, claps him no the shoulder and turns to the audience, grinning brightly.
CHINESE MAN: Yes. We are always looking for more spies for our spying… things.
STAGE-HAND: Excellent. Now, could we have Lüneburg as part our territory now?
CHINESE MAN: No.
STAGE-HAND: Another twenty?
CHINESE MAN: No, it doesn’t make sense.
STAGE-HAND: Come again.
CHINESE MAN: What is my motivation? You represent a Bürgermeister who already owns two burgs. Now he will own three. You can’t be a Bürgermeister and own three burgs.
STAGE-HAND: Are you a political philosopher or something?
CHINESE MAN: No. I sell cars. Mini Coopers. I can get you a deal.
STAGE-HAND: Lüneburg. Now.
CHINESE MAN: I don’t see how you will find a constitutional solution to this dilemma.
STAGE-HAND: Are you the playwright? Are you a historian? Have you read Act Two? No? Then shut up and hand over Lüneburg!
CHINESE MAN: Okay. It is yours.
The CHINESE MAN makes a low bowing gesture. He then turns to the audience and waves giddily before sitting down. <Projection changes>
LÜBECK: This is another fine mess you’ve gotten us into, spy. You’re fired!
STAGE-HAND: Sacked? Me?!
LÜBECK: Yes, you!
STAGE-HAND: Oh, thank god…
The STAGE-HAND de-costumes, then walks along the front row, up the stairs onto stage-east, and into the wings.
MINISTER TWO: What do we do now, Herr Burgermeister?
LÜBECK: We go…
LÜBECK does a small dance step whilst performing a hula-esque manoeuvre with his hands.
LÜBECK: … with the flow.
MINISTER TWO: Meaning?
MINISTER ONE: The burghers are upset, Bürgermeister. We must side with someone else.
MINISTER THREE: Let’s side with the nobles. They have money. They can afford more advisors. We can all have badges.
LÜBECK: Badges? You don’t need no stinking badges! We shall side with the merchants. We will create a republic, and be great, like Venice!
MINISTER TWO: But what shall we call you, Herr Bürgermeister?
MINISTER THREE: Doge? Doge Buddenbrock? (stifles a laugh)
LÜBECK: What does ‘doge’ mean, anyway?
MINISTER ONE: Well, its Latinate is the same as that of the word for ‘duke’. We could call you ‘duke’.
LÜBECK: Excellent.
MINISTER ONE: Herzog it is, my liege. Herzog Buddenbrock.
MINISTER THREE: Sounds like a chest infection.
LÜBECK: It sounds glorious.
MINISTER THREE: Phlegmy.
LÜBECK: From now on I shall be known as Herzog von Lübeck, Lord of Rostock, Protector of Mecklenburg, Recipient of Lüneburger Postcards, Convener of the East Elbian Imperial Circuit, and Queen of the Hanse.
He struts to the front of the stage and strikes a pose, basking in his own greatness. Lights slowly fade.
If your progress continues at a decent pace, at some point the list of the titles of the ruler of Lübeck is going to become sort of unmanageable
LÜBECK: From now on I shall be known as Herzog von Lübeck, Lord of Rostock, Protector of Mecklenburg, Recipient of Lüneburger Postcards, Convener of the East Elbian Imperial Circuit, and Queen of the Hanse.
Brilliant. I love this AAR!
Brilliant. I love this AAR!
germanpeon said:
i'd say it's perfect all way along, in it's own way.
If i were you, i'd try getting my hands on Saxony and then go for the New world, make a new Lubeck there(capital) and start colonizing
Or even without saxony actually... Just my 3 cents
kfijatass said:i'd say it's perfect all way along, in it's own way.
If i were you, i'd try getting my hands on Saxony and then go for the New world, make a new Lubeck there(capital) and start colonizing
It's only 1492! Not sure ANYONE has found the New World. Yet.
Great again Isca.ZmajOgnjeniVuk said:Quite interesting indeed! Great work Isca!
I would never have gone republic, so I can't wait to see what is in store for you.