Well, I shouldn't do this
I have a lot of projects needing prompt attention and my own fading timeline. But for some reason I became compelled to do this awful thing(with apologies to the deceased Alfred Jarry and Christopher Marlowe). I just offer as far as I am. In writing plays all the real editing comes in the execution, but without that unlikely event- which would get me deported to Guantamo- I hope someone understands this anyway. Any complete resemblance to a certain lie-trafficking Tariffist is impurely coincidental. Please stop me.
The Comical History of King Ubu
by Alfred Maralo
"I do not sing of suckers and tools
Nor all my fans, fantastic fools,
The House destroyed. Just close the schools!
There never has been, nor will you see
As great a man as ever can be-
Just say it aloud. It must be ME.
But now it comes with my final breath,
Vigorous and great with diet meth,
To out-deal the cards of Mister Death."
ACT ONE
The Oval Throne Room
UBU: (Loud and long fart) Fantastic! What a tough day and I still don't get the respect I am entitled to. But I will! Esteban! Get over here...NOW! Wait, you're not Esteban.
ESTEBAN # 2: Beside the fact you made me come over to do Esteban #1's job, he's been on the outs with you for a long time.
UBU: I don't feel well. This schedule is killing me. I should be relaxing and enjoying things more, though I admit it has been a lot of fun getting things done and done right! Unlike all my predecessors.
ESTEBAN #2: Thanks to your contract with Lucky Lucifer we can do anything!
UBU: I can do anything. But I am a little worried. My heart has been skipping a beat lately which it only did before when...someone young was around. I am beginning to worry I may have to actually honor the agreement before I am done. It DOES say I must be satisfied. My lawyers were pretty clear about that. Were they not, Mere Ubu?
MERE UBU: (wearily) If you say so. God knows, you only hear what you want to.
UBU: Don't mention that Name!
MERE UBU: Oh, God?
UBU: I have felt bad about dying before, but now with all this stress it all comes down to the last big Deal. For my soul. I will not be cheated by Death or anyone else. I've been bargaining all my life with no help from anyone else. No one has done it better, certainly not that sucker and loser the Devil. No, it is time to turn to God and see if I can get past this hard work with my legacy and soul intact. Just watch me.
MERE UBU: (aside) What? Go up in smoke like the Devil dispensing with stolen votes?
PERE UBU: Get that Pope of ours over here now! He can get me what I want. It's all written in my Bible so he has to help me get to Heaven!
ESTEBAN #2: The red phone, Sire! Ow, it's a little warm to the touch.
UBU: Idiot! Don't pick up...oh all right. Hand it here. (He puts on asbestos oven mitt, holds phone carefully away from a bandaged ear) Uh-huh, the problem? The contract? Talk to my lawyers...yes, the ones alive of course. Oh, yeah? I'll see YOU in court! They have to listen to me. I'm the King... Contract? What contract?... Signed in MY blood? I doubt it. I'll have my FBI guy do a DNA test on it... Stick to your own job and you'll get plenty of business because of me. Oh yeah? Well, I'll see you in Hell first!" (slams phone down, looks around)
Well, what?"
ESTEBAN#2: The white phone is ringing!
UBU: That Pope guy! About damn time! I might need him. I think I may have misspoke just now.
ESTEBAN#2: N-n-n-n-ot the Pope. I think...I believe...
UBU: Gimme that phone! Why is it every great man is surrounded by idiots? Hello, this is the King. Oh, not the Pope then...a messenger? Is this some kind of threat? I just deal with the top or else talk to my lawyers first...OK, I can listen a bit if it's an offer...Just a second...Will someone pour a bucket of ice on the red phone? It looks like it's going to explode. Yeah, could be an assassination attempt! The freezer is down the hall! Utterly surrounded here. I said, just a second! What's the urgency?
A. BLONDEBOT: (Enters in a rush, sees Mere Ubu, falters, recovers, bows): Sire, Missus Ubu!
UBU: What? I said I don't want to be interrupted, and I don't miss Mere Ubu. She's right here!
MERE UBU: That's LADY Ubu! And it should be Queen or Your Majesty.
UBU: Shut up. What is it, MISS Boundblot?
A. BLONDEBOT: The internets are buzzing with a new meme accusing you of incontinence..incompetence? "Ubu's booboo" is the catchphrase. it started on Twits4us.
UBU: Impossible. We own that platform. I'll text on our special site, DoubleTruth. Get me my cellphone.
ESTEBAN#2: Sire, Heaven is on the white phone...
UBU: They can just wait! ...Ooohhhh. my heart. Get me my pills and a diet soda! Longevity drugs my ass! They just give me the runs. I can't believe I am saying this, but maybe that texting will have to wait. Round up my usual bots and assign them to rebuttals, rebukes, and revenge. This is the Devil's fault. He's breaking his deal!
UBU: OK, who IS this on the line. You got two minutes. Wait. Lemme put this on speaker for my staff. Who's here by the way?
MINISTER OF SCIENCE: Will, your Science guy, Your Majesty!
UBU: Completely unnecessary...wait, you're that guy who couldn't even explain the Aquatic Equation to me- and what's it for anyway? To measure how much is left in my water bottle? You're fired. Get out of here. (Will departs hastily) Go into the washroom on your way out and see if any lawyers are hanging out in there.
WHITE PHONE: ...abriel. This about your last chance. Not everyone is privileged to know when that is.
UBU: I am not everyone. Get to it then..I have this pain!
RED PHONE: You are not seriously going to trust that guy!
UBU: Who put that on speaker? Just shut up. I'll deal with you later.
RED PHONE: We already have a deal! There's still plenty of time for your other stuff.
UBU: I am not sure if we have a deal anymore. Nothing in the contract says you can keep bugging me while I'm doing my business. I don't think I even signed it, so if you keep breaking the deal, as you call it, why should I even listen? Get lost "angel". I dealing with Numero Uno now.
WHITE PHONE: We can make a deal- to put it in terms you seem to understand.
UBU: Not another contract. Pricking my finger is very unsanitary, so unsanitary you wouldn't believe it. My minister of health could tell you stories...
WHITE PHONE: No contracts, no more oaths. Your blood is not required- or sufficient. Just salvation.
UBU: I don't think I like your tone. Are you insinuating I need saving...Hello, HELLO!
WHITE PHONE: Back again. Maybe you prefer the dial tone, but we are always here- while YOUR mortal time is running out.
UBU: Right. What's the deal? How can I move on into Heaven? Do I need to convert to some special religion, some cult? I'm not much of a follower.
WHITE PHONE: In your case, you have to accept extra time living to turn your life and some failings around. As you will see, this dispensation is just not for your sake, but for Earth as a whole. It is a narrow path and contracts with the Devil or any evildoer partner or blackmailer cannot touch you there.(RED PHONE vibrates violently)
UBU: (sweating) More time? I'll take it. I haven't signed anything but I don't like the sounds of this narrow path stuff.
= new reply since forum marked as read
ACT TWO: Scene One- Mountain of Temptation
UBU: Let's see if I got this straight. Skip the Ten Commandments and start with the rewards instead. But the rewards are kinda woke. "Blessed are the poor in spirit, the mourning, the lowly, those who hunger for...hunger for...holiness." I mean, commandments certainly did nothing except try to tell me what not to do. Sort of insulting and it says here "Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of slander against you because...". That certainly applies to me all over and they make up every fake reason so it might even be because I say I am a Christian. Catholics have cannon lawyers right? Maybe they can find me a piece of this blessed be action, although it sounds suspiciously woke to me.
GABRIEL: (Now in person, dressed as Virgil, the bard of Empire) It is hard- sometimes...very often...always?...impossible for people to get the Word of God straight. So yes, the Commandments in your case have not been particularly fruitful. You shouldn't even need much understanding to know dealing with the Devil is way off base. Because of your earthly father you were set upon a very dangerous spiritual path. In fact- not spiritual at all and not very successful for even being a simple mortal mammal. So let us look at what always remains in the end. It all boils down(sorry for the Hellish metaphor) to simply acting like God. Words just mess you up.
UBU: Jesus! I've done so much already! Well, that was the other contract. That's over now. If I can take my crypto currency into the afterlife- it's all digital you know, pretty spiritual- I could send it back down to Earth like blessings? How does that sound? (enter Mephistopheles panting)
MEPH: Another mountaintop! Are you going to show him all the Kingdoms and National Parks he has to trade off for his soul. Look! There's Greenland off to the North with just a few tribal Vikings to deport to Denmark! Come on, your fellow Emperor already has a chunk of Utopia to pillage. You'll never get Canada at this rate.
ESTEBAN#2: Listen to him, sire! Your agenda has much to do and there is yet time. Your legacy! Your fortune! Think of your children!
UBU: (Turns to Gabriel, squinting) They have a point.
GABRIEL: And a contract, whose time is running into inescapable payment. We offer you a free choice. First there is an invitation to help one single person, that might decide all. It is up to you.
ESTEBAN#2: Sure. Just bend the knee!
GABRIEL: Knees in Hell are all broken, however they are posed. You are only free to be in pain forever under a fake servitude, a fraudulent self-identity, free to be not you, not Me.
UBU: My head hurts. Can we get on with this?
Scene Two: Detention center of Gator Guantanamo
UBU: I've seen this before.
GABRIEL: But now we are here, in disguise as two guards. Here is a victim of your quota deportations, cut off from family and legal appeal, awaiting rendition to some fresh Hell on Earth where she is unlikely to survive certain to be harmed.
UBU: What's your name girl? Uh... hola?
MARG.: Margharita, sir. I do not speak Spanish. I was born in America, but for some reason I was grabbed by men in black masks, handled roughly and sent here, away from my parents and everyone. Can I have a glass of water?
UBU: I can’t believe they did that to you. You must have done something wrong. You must be a terrible, terrible person!
MARG: Well, I am a terrible person now, because I am very angry. Everything they told me about freedom and rights and the law in America is a lie. If I survive, I will be avenged.
UBU: (Aside to Gabriel, who does not respond in any way) You see? I was right. This is why these people are so dangerous. We must protect ourselves from them at all costs. I figure eleven million is a fair number. Bound to be some mistakes, but you cannot take chances. Besides the number is everything. Part of the deal….oh.
GABRIEL: Something wrong?
UBU: Yeah. This is a whole new deal. Christ, I sound like FDR! Well, small beginnings...Little girl?
MARG: Margharita. Well, what?
UBU: Everyone is coming back, you know. There will be a fair trial. I mean, for the ones with criminal records.
MARG: I’ll believe that when I get back home to my parents. Then the fun starts!
UBU: (Waving hands defensively)No! Too many people have been hurt already. It’s time to be nice. Be happy.
MARG: My pursuit of happiness means hounding Ubu to his grave!
GABRIEL: We have to be going. We’re attracting too much attention.
MEPH
Also dressed as a guard) Is that guard bothering you miss? He’s not to be trusted around young women. He has a rep AND a rap.
UBU angrily) Leave me alone! Why is everyone so mean to me? Can’t I have at least one friend I can do good deeds for? You never liked me and I never trusted you, Myfisto...no matter how much fun we had.
MARG: Get me out of here and I’ll do whatever you want!
UBU: Really? In that case...wait a minute. This is what you call a temptation, right? No, I just want to set one thing right and be a real friend. YOU are my ticket of escape. I get you out that way and you’ll do bad things, very bad things, so bad I can’t help you. Then what will become of me? (Ubu pauses, contemplating his Homer Simpson logic)
MARG: Well, just say no and leave me to rot then? What are you scared of?
UBU: Me scared?(laugh turns shaky) Look, I will be the best friend you ever had. I am the bestest friend you ever had! All you have to do is like me. Uh, trust me. I deserve it.
MARG: Aren’t you the odd duck. What about you other two?
MEPH: I need an agent of change, Margharita. Work for me and I’ll get you out of here. You’ll get your revenge.
MARG: O.K. At least that makes sense.
GABRIEL: Despite new heart health his time is short. Look at the billions of stars- the very few one can see and think of the billions of years past and to come. A firefly consumed in a candle has as much significance as all Earthly Kings. All dead, if not forgotten now in less than a blink of cosmic time. The only small world of significance- and that only coming from God- is the single immortal soul. The only good free choice is to live for that.
UBU: Well, how does that happen? Do I really have a choice?
MEPH: None really. Freedom means the right to say no. Then you get screwed.
GABRIEL nods) Guaranteed choice, of course. Freedom given to others is the only thing a self can do to earn to live forever. Then there is only Mercy.
MEPH: Hey! We live forever in Hell too! We all get respect and we respect our Leader. No surrender. No regrets!
UBU: Is that a golf course over there?
GABRIEL: We'll get to that. Now do you mind if I banish Mephisto? He's consuming a lot of your last precious moments.
UBU: Yeah. He's been getting on my nerves with all his smart talk. And depressing. I should be feeling a lot better, but even this new ticker isn't cutting it. I wonder...(grabs crotch)
GABRIEL: (quick response) Just the heart and its a temporary dispensation.
UBU: I think I will do something to get saved. No, there's never been a convert like me. I've got to do something special. After all, I'm having a big change of heart.(laughs heartily) How about world peace? That would be a big deal.
GABRIEL: For that you have to get in the middle of a war. Understand it. Save people. Show them where you stand and stand everyone down until they come to their senses...but good luck. You’ll need that more than a miracle.
ACT TWO: SCENE THREE
(Done as puppets- optional. Ubu and Gabriel are ambulance drivers in the Gaza strip, under fire)
UBU: Hey are we delivering hamburgers in Seattle?
The white get up looks really pure, but we sure stand out. Are those fireworks?
GABRIEL: We are volunteer ambulance drivers in Gaza and the artillery is welcoming us. They might be claiming they are giving us protective fire, but more likely think we are hiding enemy soldiers.
UBU: Get me out of here! I don’t even watch the footage and I know damn well...(Loud explosion, ambulance blows up with limbs and heads scattered everywhere.)
This is real! My God, get us out of here!
GABRIEL: (Brushing off his shoulders) In a bit. How do you propose we make peace?
UBU: Peace? All they want to do is exterminate each other. All right let them, but they shouldn’t be shooting at foreign aid workers. And they can forget about that casino. Look at all those craters! Nobody is going to fly in to stay at my motel in this graveyard. Why can’t they just get along- or go away? Except to my country, obviously. Is that a child’s hand.
GABRIEL: One of thirty-one. One child had already lost a hand previously.
UBU: Well, thank God it wasn’t my fault. Uh, is there anyone left to patch up. I’d like to start earning my wings. (Stoops over corpse and vomits). I think I soiled myself during the explosion. My ears are still ringing unless those are bells?
ESTEBAN#2: Hola! It is wonderful to see you alive
Sire! Your enemies have revolted in your absence. What members of our forces aren’t in hiding are searching for you too.
UBU: Too? Are they coming to my aid?
ESTEBAN#2: Well, no Sire...
{Paula Vogel in 2017 had an Ubu proposal of sorts to all dramatists, which technically I am not, although I wrote one college play and some cornball skits for a summer camp. One full parody of the Wizard of OZ which is buried in copyright prohibitions. I found this out AFTER I wrote this abomination combining Faust and Ubu. There is a bit of scene three left and then on quickly to Act Three which begins in the Vatican. Will Ubu be saved? Some drama there. It is all predetermined by the Muse. Forgive me!}
And I had to reconcile that with a redo. Anyhow, this is the end of Ubu. Something devoutly to be wished for.
ESTEBAN#2: Well, no Sire. Roughly speaking, they can be divided among those who wish to kill you, wish to kill you horribly, wish to bring you to justice, those who wish you to have an accident, and those who want to keep you captive to drain you of whatever advantages you might provide.
UBU: (Silent for a while.) My followers?
ESTEBAN#2: Quite a few remain, Sire. They hope you have an honorable quick death. Some have set up an online fund…
UBU: I can’t believe I suddenly don’t care about fundraising. Maybe I am saved? (Gabriel shakes his head sadly). Am I destined to be slaughtered, or die a natural death? Some blessing this is, to get a new heart. It’s all your fault they have turned against me. And all those cowards too. How much time do I have left. (Gabriel holds up two fingers) Weeks? Days? HOURS?
Minutes…
GABRIEL: Back up. Things are progressing to two hours, but some minutes you can change.
UBU: (Waving hands wildly) I need a refuge, someplace… Except Greenland! Saving that for prison camps in rare earth mines after we deport the Danes. Take us to the Vatican! Only, can you make us invisible. Or maybe wear hoodies. You know, the anonymous black teenager kind.
GABRIEL: Truly a wise choice. Let it be so.
End of Act Two
ACT THREE: The Sistine Chapel
(A large screen projection backdrop of the high altar and back fresco of the Last Judgment. The Pope and Mere Ubu are seated in a wooden pew. Ubu’s KKK robes are smeared with stains, mostly orange.)
UBU: The Suite Sixteen Chapel! Been here. Very scary pictures, but kinda gay. And Jesus without a beard. Not even a small mustache. Needs more gold. Now that’s an altar! Shoulda added 'get elected Pope' in the contract.
GABRIEL: You might want to lower your voice. We are invisible for now, but they can here us.
UBU: Yeah, I get it. I hear some voices over there in the front pews. Holy moly, that looks like Mere Ubu herself. Let’s get closer. I know quietly. She usually doesn’t say too much at home because I have everybody recorded. Except me. They scrub everything I tell them to.
GABRIEL: Bad news on that front. There are others recording everything you say. It is a matter of despair because you broadcast and post most of it to the world yourself.
UBU: Shhh. Here we are.
MERE UBU: (Pausing her conversation) That smell.
I’d know it anywhere, but I don’t see anyone around.
POPE: A bad batch of incense perhaps. Well, when we get old…
MERE UBU: (hotly) I’m here confessing the truth, your Papastry. I think my husband might be possessed by evil spirits and one of them is here!
POPE: No one can harm you here in the chapel. You are under God’s and my protection.
(Ubu elbows Gabriel excitedly)
MERE UBU: I am so frightened. All your Swiss Guards are out controlling the mobs protesting your Mass for my husband. I have done so much wrong, but I am not sure what to say. I always have to let him do all the talking….ouch! You pinched me!
POPE: I assure you….ow! Are you laughing at me?
MERE UBU: Of course not, but I know that ugly chortle. His ghost is here! They must have murdered him already! Poor Ubu.
UBU: Poor Ubu! Enough of this fun. Let them see us. I am running out of time.
GABRIEL: As I keep reminding you. Very well. (Mere Ubu shrieks)
UBU: I wish I could snap my fingers like you do. Do you think…
GABRIEL: I think you have to remember the clock.
POPE: King Ubu! Why have you come here.
UBU: I just wanted to change things before the end and something bad happens to my soul. But everyone turns against you when you do that. I may be causing my own death.
MERE UBU: I thought you would be the death of ME! I’ve been on the run since you reversed all your policies. Now the Veep is in charge but no one wants to listen to him. Total chaos.
UBU: Ah, the Very Empty-headed Exalted Prince. Well, if just once he became more popular than me or ceased working for the Contract I would have fired him. I miss the firing, the cries of anguish and indignation, the lamentation of the women, the sternly worded letters. But Pope, can’t you save me with some indulgence or cannon lawyer? I can buy both. I’ll light every candle and curse the darkness. Lend me those Keys!
POPE: I am afraid I have to leave you to the Angel of the Lord the same way you tied yourself to the Devil. If you can repent, I will not stand in the way. You insisted on your own terms, but no one escapes judgment.
UBU: Why not? You’ve never had a convert as important as me. Especially all my predecessors like that guy- and the one before him too. What terrible terrible people they are compared to me and they forced me to do drastic things to clean up.
GABRIEL: Stop! You are destroying your one chance. You can attain Heaven even with all your self-will.
UBU: Especially with my self-will! None stronger. We can come to an arrangement. I could use a drink….holy water?
GABRIEL: Not only do you insist on your own way, justice demands it. Behold the gate! (the entrance to the road to heaven appears in place of the high altar.)
UBU: Wow! But I expected gold and pearls. This is more like stainless steel. What’s that gray mountain in the distance? And it looks like rain and lightning.
GABRIEL: For you that is the first part of the Golf Course of Purgatory. If you want to change, you must make all eighteen holes. You carry your own clubs- which are very hot to the touch and heavy. There will be no cheating or possibility of such. Each hole will be very difficult and painful. The iron mountain of the first is typical of the difficulty levels. The roughs are, well, rough. The quicksand pits very deep. Angels, whose spiritual appearance you will find painful for a very long time will appear to remind you who you are…. Since you have chosen the Catholic way, this will be your Purgatory. (Shows a stainless steel large gate, fronted by many rose bushes.)
UBU: Gotta get to the gate and get a look see. Ow, the damn thorns!
GABRIEL: I promised only a golf course. It seems some small democratic dispensation has been given to deceased prior Royal wives to add this preview.
UBU: Kind of gray in there. Feels hot. Is it likely to rain? I'll need a caddy carrying an umbrella and a good golf cart...Wait, that green(which isn't very) looks kinda steep.
UBU: Uh, that’s pretty stiff punishment, but what a great idea! I’m a great golfer! Ah, Mephistopheles!(Devil arrives dressed as a Cardinal)
MEPH: Got my name right for the first time! Forgive the cardinal sin costume. It was the Boss's idea. Before you get your hairshirt golf clothes on listen to what we have ready for you.
UBU: In Hell?
MEPH: We like to call it Alternative Paradise. (Gabriel looks wrathful.)
Anyway, we have built a huge casino hotel for you entirely out of gold and keep the temperature cool enough so it doesn’t melt.
UBU: That’s swell! But you must put in air-conditioning.
MEPH: Tech stuff is no good in Alternative Paradise. We’re very spiritual down there.
GABRIEL: ENOUGH! The torments are everlasting and you will curse yourself forever.
MEPH: HAH! We curse the One ultimately responsible..sometimes each other, but never ourselves. We keep our integrity, our self respect.
UBU: And our bitcoins?
MEPH: Glad you mentioned that! Meant it for a surprise, but here’s the deal. It’s all just code and you can spend all eternity memorizing each one so it will be yours and no one else’s. Uh, my guys will visit you to help out your memory. Play games with your trading cards...Not that Bible of yours, I’m afraid. The other one we gave you in secret.
GABRIEL: Your “pals” giving your memory the more than occasional pitchfork prod?
UBU: Nevermind. That sounds swell and I can have guest losers in the casino I can dish out some grief to...But golfing to heaven is not a bad deal either, despite the not cheating part. How long will that take do you think?
GABRIEL: It WILL take ten billion years of constant torment and hardship. And no cheating at golf.
UBU: Shit! I did not hear that right. Do I have a handicap?
GABRIEL: Your handicap is your own will and the harm you have caused others you cannot make up for. Only a change of will and a slight change of heart gets you back on the path, and Divine Mercy allows you the shortest path of transformation. And you steered us to the Catholic way.
UBU: Ten billion years!
GABRIEL: Humanly inconceivable, I know, but it represents the individual suffering of every creature on Earth you have affected. The last hole will find you so purified that those final millions of years of realization of those victims’ suffering will be more intense than all the torments of Hell. And as I warned you, this is doing things your way.
UBU: Ten billion years! That can't be right! God is supposed to be merciful. That is why he died for me, for Chrissake! I might as well be in Hell.
MEPH: As you originally promised. In your casino, laughing at the suckers.
UBU: Do I get to be a High Demon and Torturer?
MEPH: That is entirely up to the Boss. Remember he is a little cross with you.
(Margharita, dressed in ICE uniform enter behind, unnoticed, with a large knife as in the painting of Marat’s assassination)
UBU: I don’t feel well. Everything is going to hurt. I don’t want to suffer. I think I don’t want to die! I certainly don’t like that contract thing.
MERE UBU: For God’s sake man, make up your mind! I hear both Estebans in the nave!
(MEPH aside: “My boys!”)
MERE UBU: They are leading a mob barely held back by the Swiss Guards.
UBU: They have come to save me!
MERE UBU: I hardly think so. I see armed people in black hoods and red hats. Signs that say: Deport Ubu to Hell! Listen to the angels and save yourself while they are busy looting!
UBU: But which one? Will I get an honorary welcome parade in Heaven?
GABRIEL: After the first hundred years on the First Hole you won’t care. Hurry! Just repent and get to the gate!
UBU frightened) Sure, Ok, I,I... can't say that. I won't. Don't have to!
MEPH: Being in hate means never saying you're sorry. No hurry with me! We won’t grab you. Just let things work out. You got time to be you. Don't throw it away!(Demonic chorus begins its chant: "Let Ubu be Ubu. Ubu be Ubu…."
MERE UBU: What have you got on you? It’s all orange.(Rubs her hands disgustedly.) I can’t get it off. Out, damned make-up!(The Pope escorts her offstage though she stumbles through some of the rose garden. The curtains start to close, Ubu escapes to front stage and beseeches the audience. And here, all is improvised according to the present performance. Babbling, flailing, Ubu wants the audience to help him decide even as arms and hooks of black and white try to draw him back into the Chapel. Eventually, he is dragged back in. From behind the curtain comes a loud scream. An offkey horn toot. Perhaps a final puppet play of the medieval morality sort. Gabriel comes out with his horn and asks if they want a Final tune.)
OPTIONAL:
GABRIEL: All things come to an end, with two exceptions. You are what you do for and to others. That is the all of judgment, life beyond your life, that whatever else plays in the mind stays in the mind and time draws the curtain.
As for the two supposedly invisible entities in this play. You see your neighbor, you see your God. If you only look to yourself, you might see the elusive Satan. How you treat your neighbor determines everything. Don’t wait around for the Finale.
MEPH: Anyone want to place bets on my new boy Esteban #2 and his soon to be bride Margharita? Everyone gets a chance!(Gabriel chases him offstage)
(Notes. As a perfectly acceptable modern style cop out, the audience and the actors can create their own ending.
I fully desired to save Ubu, but was utterly defeated by his narcissistic consistency. Maybe by the dynamics of the Faust tradition? I generally do redemptive fiction and this is meant as encouragement to all modern Ubu's, tiny short lived sinners, to repent. Repent or no, in any event, there would have been justice, but Ubu seems to have chosen to be incurable by hardened habit, desire, and entitlement.
And yes, those who enabled this obviously incompetent boob could very well have much more guilt for the consequences. Also, I have not neglected Goethe where the Romantic dispensations led to God winning his Book of Job-like wager after Faust samples Satan's wares. It never did sit well with me- and Ubu is no striving or loving Faust.)