NORTH ATLANTIC
Music by Richard Rodgers
QUIETTE: Enough already!CHARACTERS: SALMON ELLA – a clairvoyant, rotund, middle-aged Eskimo in a furry parka; probably a woman, but it's hard to tell. SCHLEMIEL reBITT – a voyageur, a Jewish-French-Canadian who lost his way in his bateau en route to New Orleans (or maybe to New Jersey). He now works as a hunting and fishing guide. QUIETTE – a Jewish-French-Canadian-Eskimo teenager, probably a girl -- just let go from her job as a telephone solicitor perhaps because she's a mime. LIEUTENANT LABILE – a voyeur (not to be confused with voyageur or clairvoyant) who has been in the Arctic a long, long time. He's commissioned as a Substitute Missile Deployment Officer on temporary duty here. SERGEANT SMELLY – a voluptuous Army cook with big Belugas, definitely a woman. CHORUS LINE – four young soldiers, four Eskimos and two fur seals. The only characters, along with Quiette, who are not yet really grumpy about being in Greenland. PROLOGUE THE CURTAIN RISES, revealing a backdrop made of one plain white bed sheet. SALMON ELLA: [gazing prophetically at the bed sheet] Can you hear that whisper on the wind? Come to me, come to me. LT LABILE: That's "Lieutenant", you walrus-wannabe. I can't stop shivering, even when my finger's on the launch button for an ICBM. Surely, I'm not going to live on that super-sized ice cube. SALMON ELLA: Oh yes you are, Llewellyn -- and don't call me Shirley. [They start to tussle.] QUIETTE: [gracefully motions her arms like a referee to separate the combatants -- and then, just as gracefully and with amazing rapidity, she pitches a big mess tent for the Main Act. THE MAIN ACT [You have been warned] SMELLY: Ouch! The pesky black flies in this tent are biting my Belugas. The yellow-repellent candles are useless. Tell me, Schlemiel -- you've been wandering around here since before this play was written -- what do you use to keep the bugs away? SCHLEMIEL:
DEET pour moi. That's what !
Dear Mad'moisselle DEET pour moi. That's what, keeps bugs away. DEET pour moi. That's what. Not Citronella Nor Skin-So-Soft I use OFF Cream or spray 
LABILE: Smelly, come quick! There's a polar bear in the latrine again.
SMELLY: OK! Help me with the fire hose. I'm gonna flush that bear right outa the can I'm gonna flush that bear right outa the can and send him on his way. I'm gonna sing that phrase again and again, I'm gonna .... CHORUS: Salmon Ella says that's -- quite enough Salmon Ella says that's – quite enough This play is so damn bad ! SCHLEMIEL & CHORUS: Remington for a little Bunny Hunt Gonna have a Bunny Hunt toniiight. SALMON ELLA: Every night, every day ... Belly high, belly high, belly high! SCHLEMIEL: How? What? SMELLY: Walkie-Talkie SCHLEMIEL.: Turkey? SMELLY: Walkie-Talk SCHLEMIEL: Talk about wings you'd like to stew SALMON ELLA: Hey!! That's supposed to be my song. SMELLY: Says who? SALMON ELLA: Says me ! [They start to tussle.] QUIETTE: [gracefully referees again]. 
LABILE: Schlemiel, tell me the secret for catching salmon. They're biting, but
they always get away.
SCHLEMIEL: Perhaps there's too much slack in your fishing line. This is a rule I can't overstate Reel in the slack and patiently wait It's got to be carefully taut. Fish after fish you'll excruciate ... I'm as orn'ry as Saddam Hussein And you will note there's a bump in my coat when I peek at that blubberful dame. Hey Smelly ! Won't you be impressed when I catch lots of salmon for Thanksgiving dinner? SMELLY: Eeek!! Oh, it's just Pervert First Class Labile. We do need more fish. We're putting on a Thanksgiving show – a "Gregorian Dinner Theater" – and an entire company of Special Forces will arrive at 2300 hours PM. I'll cook the fish; but I can't help you clean them. You may seat the Rangers You may seat the Rangers Inside the crowded room Then you'll be outside Just chilled to the bone And all through the night You will clean all alone EPILOGUE QUIETTE: [after gracefully taking down the tent, she gracefully flails her arms and wiggles her ears.]. SMELLY: What are you saying, Quiette? OK ... Let's see ... SMELLY & CHORUS (ad lib) ... uh, 29 words ... first word ... uh ... sounds like ... arooo, aroooo ... hyphenated-word ... 28th word ... QUIETTE: [gracefully shivers and salutes, aims an imaginary rifle while hopping up and down in a stooped position, swings an invisible hammer, points out to sea, peers through her cupped hands, crosses her eyes, makes a paddling motion, shakes her head, pretends to spear something twice, points down and then raises both arms like a flower blooming – all done with grace and poise, of course]. SMELLY: Could you repeat that? Wait, enough already -- I've got it! "Llewellyn Labile and Schlemiel reBitt are staked out on their own special iceberg to spy on near-sighted Eskimo whalers in kayaks so they don't accidentally harpoon another nuclear submarine." Oh my goodness, we may never hear from them again. THE AUDIENCE: [cheers and applauds ambiguously.]  THE END THE END THE END |