Waiting for Good Dough - Transcripts

Narrator: The Inn Between Worlds is one of the four great Free Houses that exist outside the borders of the mystic realms... 

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Mary: Is it ready yet? 

Joh: Not yet. You can't rush it, Mary. That's the sort of thing a boy would do. 

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Edwin Paine: Charles? Must we wear all this clutter? It would be so much easier to walk on top of the snow without these silly buggers strapped to our feet. 

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Joh:  What's it like to be a boy, Mary? 

Mary: Shhh... I'm supposed to be in hiding, remember? The last thing I need to think about is how to be a boy. 

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Chares Rowland:  I know they're clumsy, Edwin but we're in disguise, remember? This is how real boys dress for the snow. 

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Joh: There's no one here but us, and I really am curious --- about Tim, I mean. 

Mary: I don't want to talk about Tim --- I'm Mary now. Tim was somebody else... a long time ago. 

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Chares Rowland:  It won't be much further -- 

Edwin Paine: Oops 

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Mary: Do you think it's still snowing? 

Joh:  *Sigh* Let's go see. I know how much boys like to play in the snow. 

Mary: (I.M) I work in the kitchens, hauling ashes out of the fireplace, washing pots and pans, and generally making myself useful in a place with the strangest patrons I've ever seen. Anyone who arrives here is welcome and safe for as long as they have coin for a pint, or someone willing to treat them to it. I'd gotten used to angels, demons, faeries and dreams; the downtrodden, the cast-offs, and the recently dead... and I didn't think much could surprise me anymore. That was before a giant snowball tossed out two dead boys who'd watched too many detective pictures on the telly after they died. 

*Edwin and Charles tumble out of a large snowball. They are sprawled out, their limbs tangled over one another groaning.* 

Joh: Are you all right? 

Chares Rowland:  We're fine. 

Edwin Paine:  Quite all right, thank you. I stumbled over these silly contraptions. I've never used them before. 

Mary: You're lucky you're still alive after a tumble like that. 

Joh: Shh, can't you see they're already dead? You know how confused they become if you point it out. 

Mary:  (I.M) The recently dead often wander in here, not knowing their lives have ended. But these two were different- I'd met them before and they knew perfectly well that they were dead. They just didn't want anyone else to know it, not even Death herself... I didn't know what had brought them here. I just hoped it didn't have anything to do with me. That's the problem with hoping--it so often leads to disappointment. 

Chares Rowland: I'm Charles Rowland and this is Edwin-- 

Edwin Paine: Edwin Paine! 

Joh:  What's this? Look, Mary. It's --- 

Mary:  It's Tim --- that boy who was here a while ago. You remember... *elbows Joh in the ribs* the one who didn't stay long. 

Joh:  Oh, yeah. That Tim. 

Chares & Edwin: Hmmm. 

Chares & Edwin & Mary & Joh:  Would you excuse me for a moment? 

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Joh: Do you mind telling me why two dead boys are carrying your picture around? 

Mary: Because they aren't ordinary dead boys --- they know they're dead, and they think they're detectives. And that means... 

Joh:  You're their case. 

Mary: But they don't know it's me --- so let's be careful and keep it that way. 

Joh:  But why are they looking for you? 

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Edwin Paine:  The game's afoot, Charles. I'd say those two know more about Tim Hunter than they're letting on. 

Chares Rowland:  Well, there's two of us and two of them... that's the way it always is on a case... the dames hold the key. 

Edwin Paine:  Oh, dear. I wasn't much of a fighter when I was alive -- and I don't think I've improved much since then. 

Chares Rowland:  Don't be a twit, Edwin--- we don't have to resort to violence. We'll just do what detectives do best... we're going to make those birds sing like canaries. 

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Chares Rowland:  This is an interesting place you live in, Mary... lots of unusual people. 

Edwin Paine:  Well, gorgeous... been working here long? 

Joh:  Huh? 

Edwin Paine:  Uh... have you been... uh... working here...long? 

Joh:  Maybe we should catch up with Mary and Charles. We don't want to get left behind. 

Edwin Paine:  Oh, let them be --- they probably want to be alone. And we can use the time to get to know each other better. 

Joh:   Ouch! Something pinched me! ... Edwin, are you trying to flirt with me? 

Edwin Paine:  Uh... Yeah.. sort of. I'm sorry? 

Joh:  You didn't really think I'd fall for that? What kind of a girl do you think I am? 

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Chares Rowland:  What's wrong with her? 

Mary: She's dead. 

Chares Rowland:  Dead? 

Mary: And he's a dream, that's an angel. Or a devil. You can't tell in their leathers. And those are flitlings from faerie. 

Chares Rowland: That's a bit of just about everything. Do you get many boys here? 

Mary: Not so many. 

Chares Rowland:  Then you must remember the few you do meet... you sure know a lot about things. 

Mary:  I know a dead person when I see one. 

Chares Rowland:  And I know a pretty girl when I see one. 

Mary:  You think I'm pretty?

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Edwin Paine:  *pecks Joh on the lips, much to her surprise* Mistletoe.*Joh stomps on his foot, it hurts, surprising him.* Ow! Jumpin' jackrabbits! Why'd you do that?! 

Joh:  Missiletoes. 

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Chares Rowland:  Just about the prettiest girl I've ever seen. And I've seen plenty.

Mary:  Some people say I look just like my mother.

Chares Rowland:  Well, she must have been beautiful.

Mary:  What about my hair? It's sort of mousy, isn't it?

Chares Rowland:  Brown's my favourite colour. Who doesn't love brown?

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Joh:  What are they talking about?

Edwin Paine:  Oh, you know he's a boy, and she's a girl... They make a lovely couple, don't you think?

Joh:  Hmmph. So... How long have you been looking for Tim Hunter?

Edwin Paine:  Not so long... And it's not easy finding the greatest mage in all the world. But we find him -- we always get our man. Say... What are you trying to do? I thought I was the one asking the questions. Joh? Are you even listening to me?

Joh:  Hmm...

Edwin Paine:  Joh! Where are you going...? Was it something I said?

Edwin Paine: ... She doesn't seem to fancy me much. Perhaps I'm not going about it properly.

Chares Rowland:  Don't be silly. You're perfectly charming.

Edwin Paine: Well. Your Mary certainly seems to fancy you.

Chares Rowland:  She's putty in my hands, Edwin...putty in my hands.

Edwin Paine: Be gentle with her, Charles... You can be such a heartbreaker.

The Driver:  Bring out your dead!

Chares & Edwin: Did someone say dead?

Joh:  Oh, that's just the carriage come to carry the dead back where they belong. We've had so many wandering in here lately... It gets to be a real nuisance.

Chares Rowland:  Well. That's very interesting.

Edwin Paine: Not so interesting to us, of course... Not being dead.

Chares & Edwin: Ha ha

Edwin Paine: Will you look at the time, Charles.

Chares Rowland:  We're terribly late, aren't we?

Edwin Paine: We really must be going.

The Driver:  What do we have here? A couple of dead boys sneaking off to the living lands?

Chares & Edwin: *Yack!* 

The Driver:  Come along on my carriage, you two scoundrels --- I've a pair of seats just right for the likes of you.

Edwin Paine: No, we aren't dead! We're detectives!

Chares Rowland:  We're working a very important case!

Edwin Paine: You're making a terrible mistake!

Chares Rowland:  Don't listen to him, Mary-- He's got us confused with two other boys.

Edwin Paine: That's it --- A clear case of mistaken identity.

The Driver:  Simmer down now no bothering the other passengers. It's a lovely day for a journey.

Edwin Paine: You can't do this -- We've got rights... Haven't we?

The Driver:  Enjoy it while you can... You never know when it might be your last!

Chares & Edwin: This is how we're going, to escape...

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Joh:  Don't look at me like that --- He'll let them escape when they're well away from here. The driver's just doing me a favour and giving them a good scare. You know they don't force anyone back to the land of the dead against their will --- If they even have a will --- Which most of them don't.

Mary: You did that?

Joh:  One of us had to do something, and it certainly wasn't going to be you. Not with that Charles making cow eyes at you.

Mary: He wasn't doing that -- He just liked Mary. And there's nothing wrong with her getting a bit of attention for once.

Joh:  If you call being hit on by dead boys "attention". I think it's much nicer when someone living likes you for who you really are. Unless, of course, you have something to hide... Timothy Hunter, eh? Mary? What's it like being the greatest mage of your time?

Mary: *Sigh*