#14: AMERICANA TALES 2: BETSY MEETS JAZZ

(Lights up. A smoke-filled low-lit jazz club. BETSY sits alone with a gin and tonic in one hand and her heart in the other. It’s 2 a.m. She is not impressed. A JAZZ MAN stands at his piano. His jacket is tossed aside. Sweat drips from his brow. He is making music and singing. We should not question how BETSY manages to travel through time and space like this but rather begin to accept it as fact.)

BETSY: (Heckling) These words are not words!
JAZZ MAN: (Singing) Bebop bebop.
BETSY: Sloppy.
JAZZ MAN: Shoo-deee-oooo-beee!
BETSY: Infantile.
JAZZ MAN: Shoo-deee-oooo-BEEE!!
BETSY: Redundant even. (then quickly:) Redundant even. Get it?!
JAZZ MAN: Heeby-ja-bopbopbop-BA.

(A TRUMPET PLAYER appears from behind a curtain mimicking the tune of the JAZZ MAN’s most recent scat. He plays loudly and directly into BETSY’S face. She drops her cocktail on the table and covers her ears.)

BETSY: I prefer baseball any day.

(A TROMBONE PLAYER pops up from a trap door on the floor. His music is louder and bolder. The musicians are ecstatic and welcome him with “Hey’s” and “Ha’s”. BETSY is repulsed.)

BETSY: Check please.
JAZZ MAN: Five drink minimum starry 'n stripes. Keep drinking.
BETSY: Bollox.

(A spotlight appears and all focus goes to ELLA, a sultry Jazz goddess. She sings a self-indulgent parody of “My Funny Valentine”. She is prodigious: moving us with her dynamic range and soothing tones.)

ELLA: My funny Valentine.
Sweet, complaining Valentine.
You make me smile with your flag.
Your threads are red-white blue.
Very sexy woven through.
Yet you sorta make me gag.

BETSY: Well I’ve never –

(BETSY stands and goes to leave, but the TROMBONE PLAYER threatens her (playfully) with his trombone, thus forcing her to sit again.)

ELLA: Is your Betsy more than Ross?
Are you rock or just mere moss?
If Georgie threw you - no worse – toss
‘d you, would you sink?
Would you sink?

(Big Finish with the whole quartet.)

JAZZ MAN: Sinkinty sinkity sinksink-sink!
ELLA: Yeah!

TROMBONE PLAYER: Smooth.
TRUMPET PLAYER: Cool cats are around.
JAZZ MAN: You do it every time Ella.

(The JAZZ MAN and ELLA embrace passionately.)

BETSY: If this is America, count me out.

(The JAZZ MAN and ELLA continue their embrace. The TRUMPET PLAYER and the TROMBONE PLAYER put their gaze on each other then on BETSY. BETSY drinks gin.)

BLACKOUT