Ironsides Family/Bowie/Lock Jaw
Lock Jaw!
Billing
A satirical and highly politically charged one act play performed by the Flowrestown Theatre Company
Setting: Balance's Retreat, Republic of Swordfell
Timeframe: During the Mud Crisis of early Spring, 21 YD
Dramatis Personae
DEMON OF DWILIGHT, the Ruler-Elect of the Republic of Swordfell - Played by Heraldus Geranium the III
TYRANT OF STONE, the Steward of the Republic of Swordfell - Played by Jeremiah Orchid
Lock Jaw!
Prologue
Two nobles, once in concord now bitterly divided, wage war for the soul of their newborn babe, the Swordfell of prophecy and legend!
Acts
Scene: Near the hearth inside the Grand Hall of the Capital Palace, on the birth of their new Republic, we see the jubilant Demon and Tyrant toasting to their accomplishment....
DEMON: Rejoice Fellish noblemen for we have born glory! For we have founded upon this very moment in history that to which has never before breathed Dwilight’s air! This we did with the flame of our community! Behold the product of creative and mutual collaboration!
TYRANT: Yes! I have founded a realm that will be remembered as my greatest achievement in life! What I once lost I now regain here in the land to which I own! You shall see much greatness effect from my reign!
DEMON: No, no, hang on now, that’s not right. WE ALL founded the Republic together. Not YOU. We’ve been working on this realm for a tad over a year before you even showed up to the party. Not to mention that you aren’t going to reign at all. You’re just the temp.
TYRANT: Oh yes! To my honour and prestige do I grace the continent with Stormfell, I mean Swordfell! My ambition to become the grandest cavalier to ever live will finally be fulfilled when I get around to it. I am amused by your concern, brother Demon, as it is typical of mere knights to tremble and quiver before their betters. You make me laugh! HAHAHAHAAA!
DEMON: Excuse me, what do you mean by MERE knight. I’m the guy who is supposed to sit in that seat. I was chosen to. Don’t you think that means you owe me a little professional courtesy?
TYRANT: Chosen? Then why did you allow me the privilege of seceding?
DEMON: Because you cried when I asked you to give the position to someone else. Then you wangled to get your pothole into the choice position. Regardless of all of that, I am asking you to resign so I may assume my rightful duties as ruler, please.
TYRANT: Resign? ME? Oh no! I have so much to do, so many oaths and promises to fuflill!
DEMON: They’re not that important. I can do them just the same. I insist that you resign.
TYRANT: Resign? Oh, please, but then I will never have the potential to become the grandest cavalier when and if I feel like it.
DEMON: Sure you can, just not now. But if you don’t resign then I will never earn my station as a leader. I am asking you to resign for me.
TYRANT: Resign? NO! You must wait for me to decide at my comfort and leisure when I say it is okay to! I am the great and all powerful Brown! Ruler of this rocky valley and all surrounding territories without exception!
DEMON: More like Brown-stain. Look pal, I don’t know what you’re thinking but you sound nuts. I’d really appreciate it if you resigned now before this gets ugly. You realize going against me is going against ALL of us (at least that’s what it was supposed to mean).
TYRANT: Resign? Oh look everyone, the Demon is up to no good cavorting with my enemies and plotting to eradicate that to which the majority of people pay worship to, that to which all of his friends belong to but he doesn’t care because I said – I mean, I proved – that he was plotting against all of them ALL along!
DEMON: What the deuce! Thy mother accepts gold to please men, and I believe you are the product of such a union! Not only are you a usurper but you are a liar too! Fellish! We got trouble! Back me up!
TYRANT: And now I shall stranglehold the realm and convert it to my own vision as I always intended. And I blame you for my tyrannical decision! You entered into my mind, my heart and my soul and forced all of these decisions for me. You made me become exactly that which you accused me of! I have no responsibility in my actions whatsoever! Innocent of all charges and bad behaviour! All blame falls squarely on you, Demon. Since you choose to disagree with me, thus I shall ignore you!
DEMON: Treacherous traitor! Eat those words!
At that moment the Fellish nobility enter the Capital Palace to see the Demon and the Tyrant sword fighting. Pulling a dirty trick, the Tyrant throws sand in the Demon’s eyes and then kicks him in the stomach. The Demon goes down. Instead of helping him up, the Fellish blink and stare as one stands on the Demon's back. The Tyrant dances in foaming-at-the-mouthed-glee!
