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Pick your poison...
Posted
May 29, 2007
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It seems that someone
feels the need to drown their sorrows…
That someone is Yevgeny.
Yev: **humming Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 6 ‘Pathetique’**
…Dum – da – da – da
– da-dummm…
Tancredi: ‘Allo -- no won-der you are zo mo-rose, dreenking zat paint-theener. You need le vin for to put ze roses en tu visage.
Yev: Why would I need roses, when I am sad and
alone…
Yev: Besides, I prefer to drink the mother’s milk
of my ancestral land… vodka.
Tancredi: Alors now zat you put eet zat way… le vin ees
of ma patrie – zo we must
to respect each our customs.
Tancredi: An’ what ees eet zat makes you zo triste comrade?
Yev: A woman – what else do men make fools of
themselves for? My beloved Fabien leaves me adrift, a captainless
ship on the rough, rough seas of love…
Tancredi: Ah yes, l’amour, et la
femme – **to self** eef femme she ees…
Yev: And so I make this futile attempt to drown
my sorrows… *sigh* this reminds me of my love’s favorite drink – a mixture of
hemlock and belladonna. She has this charming way of saying, “It gives me a
little BUZZ,” – and then she smacks me upside the head and laughs.
Tancredi: Such a sweet gesture of l’amour... **to self**I should be
teemp-ted to do ze same…
**aloud** Zat takes me back to wheen
I foo-leeshly pur-sued ze love-lee Feenchurch, zo long ago. Eet occurs to me zat we belong to ze same fraternite -- of zose who’ave keesed
ze love-lee Feenchurch –
an’ LOST.
Yev: Fenchurch… that describes it well, brother –
“foolish”. Compared to the charms of my Fabien… I don’t know what I was
thinking then. Who knew she waited in the wings for me…
Tancredi: Oui… an’ leetle deed I know
zat ma belle E’Clair would
come an’ sweep me off mes pieds *le siiiigh*… ‘ow
I mees ma belle E’Clair –
our time togezher was too short last week-end… hmmmmmm…
Tancredi: Au revoir, M’sieur Yev – I must to compose a lee-tle
message to ma beloved, to let ‘re know ‘ow I theenk of ‘er – I ‘ave been remees een zat
– smile, M’sieur Yev!
Yev: Easy for you to say, Frenchman – you at
least KNOW where your beloved is –
Yev: The same as it ever was. I’m born alone, I drink alone, and will probably die alone… without
my heartless beauty to kick that last clod of dry earth on my coffin lid…
Fabien: **to
audience** shhhhh…
whatever is my worrywart going on about?
Fabien: **still
to audience** Isn’t he sweet
when he’s miserable? And
where do you suppose he got that photo he’s mooning over?
Yev: *siiiiigh* What if
I should forget what she looks like, it’s been so long….
Fabien: We’ll
get you refreshed right away, you silly babushka
mine – I have a little trip to take us on. Never mind packing! *smooch*
Yev: Yes… the dead don’t usually need a change of
underwear… *siiiigh*.
While at the BJD convention Dollectable in
And
WHO was seen canoodling with Stuart Little at Dollectable?
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