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Prologue: The Transfermation
[In the juliet, Dr. KAL sits in a high-backed chair facing away from the audience, stroking his Audio-Animatronic* cat. Cigar smoke trails upward. Inspector Gadget theme is noticeable in the orchestration. Secret Service-clad (think "Reservoir Dogs") henchperson enters. Eerie music plays.]
Hench #1: We got him, Dr. KAL.
Dr. KAL: (In a low, digitally-altered voice.) Bring him to me.
[Two other henchhumans drag in Jordan Ashley, the prototypical prospective Cal student.]
Dr. KAL: Excellent. Leave us. (Henchfolk exit.) Pardon me if I don't turn around. Mr. Jingles doesn't take well to strangers. (Mr. Jingles emits a hiss) They weren't too rough with you, were they?
Jordan: Actually, my shoulder-
Dr. KAL: Shut up! I was just trying to make conversation. Do you know why you have been brought here?
Jordan: Those guys (Points offstage) said something about "serving my university." But I haven't even started at Cal yet! Oh God -- there wasn't any problem with my application, was there? I knew I should've used a #2 pencil.
Dr. KAL: Silence! Everything in your dossier is in order, Jordan Ashley.
[As Dr. KAL pronounces his name, Jordan's data is projected onscreen: head-on shot (a bad driver's license photo), profile, other vital stats. All this is in a blue border a la "Mission: Impossible," with a small Cal insignia on the bottom rim.]
Jordan: How did you know my name? Wait, who are you? I didn't know Berkeley required an interview...
Dr. KAL: My name is of no consequence -- but my friends call me Dr. KAL. You are indeed here to serve your university. Assuming there is no question of your loyalty...
Jordan: Oh, believe me, I love Berkeley like a brother, like a sister, like a spotted owl! All my sisters went there, and they loved it, and I've just always wanted to go, ever since I was a little kid!
Dr. KAL: (Dr. KAL emits a sinister laugh.) I'm afraid there has been. . . (More sinister laughter -- ya gotta love it.) . . .a change in plans.
Jordan: (Displaying that famous Cal thirst for knowledge.) Huh?
Dr. KAL: Jordan Ashley, meet Ashley Jordan.
[As Dr. KAL says her name, Ashley's data is projected onscreen, to the right of his. Her display has a red border, with a Stanford logo at the base.]
Dr. KAL: Miss Jordan will be taking your place in the Berkeley Class of 2000.
Jordan: Wh-what? I don't understand! What about me? How can I possibly serve my university if I don't even go there?
Dr. KAL: You, Mr. Ashley, will be taking her place at another institution of (substantially) higher education. One that happens to lie on the other side of the bay. One which Ashley was supposed to attend...
Jordan: San Jose State?
[During the above exchange, the blue and red borders are switching places --see Dan Goldman for special effects --while Jordan and Ashley's data remains in place, so that we end up with Jordan in a red box and Ashley in a blue one --or maybe just a new slide reveals the switch.]
Dr. KAL: No! We're sending you to Stanford, Mr. Ashley. And Ms. Jordan will have the privilege of attending Cal.
Jordan: Me? At Stanford?
Dr. KAL: Keeping the books balanced will allay suspicion. Now once you have arrived, you are to blend into the Stanford student body as thoroughly as possible. (Henchniks re-enter and each presents Jordan with a piece of Stanford paraphernalia: sweatshirt, hat, backpack --hanging Juice Club and/or Bookstore mug included --and a campus map.) You will gain the trust and admiration of your professors and peers. You will do that voo-doo that you do so well. Then, no one will suspect you when you go to the Admissions Office and retrieve this priceless object. (New slide: A briefcase. Dramatic chords.) Your mission, as if you had any choice but to accept it, is to return the briefcase to me.
Jordan: (Thinks for a minute --I know, it's hard.) Yes! I'd lay down my life for the old Blue and Gold! But there's one thing I still don't understand --how are you going to get me, of all people, into Stanford?
[The henchman walks in again, interrupting.]
Hench #2: We disposed of the girl's admissions letter, sir, and switched the names on the master list.
Hench #1: And we just reeled in the big one, sir. Operation Big Kahuna was a big success.
Dr. KAL: Perfect. Bring him in. Jordan, I am disappointed by your lack of confidence in me. You'll get to Stanford. We have. . . ways.
[Two individuals of the hench-persuasion carry in a big burlap bag, with "DEAN MONTOYA" clearly written on it. There is a struggling figure inside.]
Jordan: Who -- who is that?
Dr. KAL: Dean Montoya, so kind of you to join us. (Booming, demonic laughter.) And so my fiendishly clever plan goes into motion! You will not defeat me this time, Gerhard! I will TRIUMPH!
[Lights fade to black, as laughter continues and evil music swells into the theme from Mission: Impossible. Red opens to reveal a big time movie opening, an audio-visual delight -- more on this later!]
[Dead, eerie silence. The curtain is down, the stage is empty. All through the house, not a creature is stirring, not even a. . .Wait a minute. We notice two Frosh carrying suitcases. They wander aimlessly about the theatre like lost sheep at election time. Finally, they make it to the stage.]
Jon: Are you a freshman?
Cynthia: Yeah. Are you?
Jon: Yeah, me too. (They both giggle.) I just got here.
Cynthia: Me too. Where are you living?
Jon: Roble. (He pronounces it like "noble.") How about you?
Cynthia: I'm in Branner.
Jon: Oh, I hear Branner's cool. My name is Jon.
Cynthia: I'm Cynthia.
Jon: Hi, Cynthia.
Cynthia: Hi, Jon.
Jon: Hi. (Long pause.) It's nice to talk to somebody. I feel like nobody here knows me. You're the first one who even knows my name!
[Head OV comes out from behind curtain wearing her spankin' new red OV T-shirt.]
Head OV: Hey, everyone, it's Jon and Cynthia!!!
OVs: (From offstage.) Jon!!!! Cynthia!!!
[OVs pour out of the aisles screaming. They surround the two and run off carrying their suitcases and various pieces of clothing over their heads, leaving Jon and Cynthia lying center stage in only their underwear.]
Cynthia: Wow! Isn't Stanford a friendly place?!
Jon: Let's go follow them!!!
[Red opens to reveal the front of the local penitentiary -- no, wait, we're sorry! It's actually just Wilbur. Stern, maybe? Hell slap some Ivy on it and you got Roble. It don't matter. Wherever we are, Stanford's in chaos -- OVs dragging frosh and their suitcases all over the place. The OVs pick someone up and carry him or her out over their heads like a mobile mosh pit.]
We re OVs!
We re OVs!
We re OVs!!!!!!!!!
We re happy perky people with a penchant for panache
Here providin guidance for some frightened wayward frosh
Hand us heavy luggage, and we ll hand you all your keys
We re OVs -- We re OVs -- We re OVs!!!
[Vamp . Gang of OVs surrounds frightened frosh.]
Lunky OV: Alright, you stupid little frosh, hand us your bags!
Skitter: No, thank you, I ll carry them.
Hank OV: Did you not hear the man? Hand him your luggage and maybe he ll tell you how to get to White Plaza.
Skitter: White what?
Klunky OV: Or Green Library.
Skitter: Green what?
Plunky OV: Or the red barn.
Skitter: Red -- White -- Green --
Grover OV: Shut up, kid. You re coming with us. OK boys, take him to room 310.
Skitter: I want my mommy.
[They drag Skitter offstage kicking.]
Oh heck, Stanford s swell -- even without Taco Bell
We're a little slice of heaven with our own gates of hell
So if you have some questions, feel free to ask us please
We're OVs -- We're OVs -- We're OVs!!!
Fran: Um, how do I get to Old Union?
Bobby OV: The old one? Hmmm. Let s see? Do you know where Tresidder is?
Bobby OV: Ummm... the Bookstore?
Bobby OV: Do you know where the Claw is?
Bobby OV: Well what do you know, then?!
Fran: I got 1580 on my SAT s.
Bobby OV: Just like everybody else. Shut up kid. (Slaps her.)
Fran: I want my mommy!
We wear red, Lots of red, though we smile til we're blue
Pretending that we're smitten over every one of you
It's our instrumental duty to make moving in a breeze
We're OVs -- We're OVs -- We re OVs!
[Preacher OV comes out , and over music preaches to the audience a la Jesse Jackson. ]
Preacher OV: We know you frosh are lost. We know you need orientation. We know you are lambs wandering through the valley of Silicon. We know you need guidance and we are volunteers here to help you! All my brothers and sisters: We are beside you! We will provide for you! And we will guide you!
[Sings, a la "Amazing Grace," with a few OVs humming back-up. Others sway.]
I once was lost, but now I m found
Was blind -- Til I saw an OV!!!!!
[Launches RIGHT back into the song . Immediately. ]
So you re lost, and you re scared, you re directionally-impaired
Still can t use a U-lock, and it seems like one cares?
If you need a little guidance, we ll give it out with ease
Head OV: Gimme an O!
Head OV: Gimme a V!
Head OV: What s that spell?!
Lunky OV: Ov? (Pronounced like "of.")
[After song, Jordan enters, decked out in his new Stanford apparel, with a suitcase and his campus map.]
Jordan: Ha! See, it's not hard to get in to Stanford at all! I just hung a right at the shopping mall, a left at the golf course, and here I am! My first day as a real Stanford student and nobody suspects a thing! I ll be free to carry out Dr. KAL s secret plan, and nobody will stop me!
[Except maybe some OVs. Like a pack of hungry wolves they encircle him, poised to pounce at any second.]
Jordan: Hey. . .Hey, what do you people want? I m. . .I m a Stanford student, see? (He hands the OVs his housing assignment.)
Lars OV: Right. Room 212 people. Take him away.
[OVs move in to "escort" Jordan to his room.]
Jordan: Hey. Hey! Don't TOUCH me!!
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over. At every Dr. KAL voice-over, all action on stage freezes and Jordan is caught in a single spotlight.) Remember. You are to blend into the Stanford student body as thoroughly as possible.
Jordan: Uh, I mean, um -- Boy, could I go for a smoothie!
[OVs scoop him up as if he were Carol Channing in "Hello Dolly!" and exit the stage. By this point the OV s have moved on the furniture, etc., to create a split stage. On one side of the stage is Jordan s room at Stanford. On the other is Ashley s room at Cal, which is where the lights shift now. Ashley, who seems perfectly normal -- i.e., the Stanford student she should be -- stands at the side of the stage.]
Ashley: Wow. My first day at Cal. (She shudders.) Cal! It s still hard to say! But, oh well. If this is where I am destined to be... (She carries her luggage a few feet to her room, "The Hippie Den.") So this is what college is like. It doesn t look anything like it does on Saved by the Bell: The College Years.
[ Tyler and Scuyler appear. ]
Tyler: Hi. It s so nice to meet you.
Scuyler: We heard we were getting a new roommate and it s just SO exciting.
Tyler: Hi, I m Tyler.
Scuyler: I m Scuyler.
Tyler: We're twins. In case you couldn't tell.
Scuyler: And you probably can t tell.
Tyler: We re "fraternal" twins. Whatever THAT means.
Scuyler: Yeah, we hate the Greek system. What do you think?
Tyler: See, we re not Greek. We re actually Dutch Scottish.
Scuyler: And a little German.
Tyler: We have a German shepherd.
Scuyler: We named him "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."
Tyler: Yeah, it was a long name, but it was cool.
Tyler: People say we share a brain.
Scuyler: Yup. Half a brain each!
Ashley: Half a brain each?
Tyler and Scuyler: Welcome to Berkeley!!
Ashley: (Awkwardly trying to fit in.) Uhm... You guys are funny.
Tyler: What does THAT mean?
Scuyler: I think she made a joke.
Tyler: A what?
Scuyler: A joke.
Tyler: Oh, a joke!
Scuyler: Jokes are funny.
Both: Ha ha ha ha.
Tyler: I'm Tyler.
Scuyler: And I'm Scuyler.
Scuyler: You must be...
Ashley: Yeah. Ashley Jordan. You guys look pretty settled in here. Are you... freshmen?
Tyler: Third year.
Scuyler: It s a blast.
Tyler: We re so happy you re here.
Scuyler: Yeah. It ll be great to have someone new.
Tyler: It s been just us for so long.
Scuyler: No one to talk to, really.
Tyler: Some people think we talk too much.
Scuyler: Do you think we talk too much?
Scuyler: What? A question?
Tyler: Oh boy.
Scuyler: Goodie goodie.
Tyler: Well. What is it?
Ashley: Umm, when you guys first got here, did. . .did you feel. . .out of place? (Confused looks.) I mean. . . confused? Perplexed? Baffled? (Pause.) Weird?
Scuyler: No! Not at all.
Tyler: We don t think you re weird!
Scuyler: (Pause.) Well, maybe a little.
Tyler: A little.
Scuyler: But that s okay.
Tyler: Everybody here s a little weird.
Scuyler: Yeah, at least a little weird.
[Ashley sighs as the lights fade on her and the twins. Lights rise on Jordan s room. The OVs carry him in and plop him down, then leave.]
Jordan: Gotta fit in. Gotta fit in. Gotta fit in. OK, here goes nothing. Uh.. Hello?
Blaise: (Entering.) Hello. Why you must be Jordan.
Jordan: Yeah, who wants to know?
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over.) Remember. You must earn the respect and admiration of your peers.
Jordan: Uh...I mean...(Big-ass grin.) Boy could I go for a Frosty Mint!
Blaise: I was wondering when you d get here. I was just sitting, wondering: Hmmm. When will my first college roomie -- who most likely will go on to be my closest adult friend -- arrive. My name is Blaise. Blaise O'Glory. So where are you from?
Jordan: Cal... ifornia. North of here. What about you?
Blaise: I'm from Beverly Hills. (Pauses and turns head to touch and feel sideburns.) 90210. I've done some acting in the past. Don't you recognize me?
Blaise: Did you ever see "One Bruise at a Time?"
Blaise: "Crazy Spanish Guy in My Pants?"
Blaise: That Gary Coleman movie where they kidnapped him for ransom and Pat Morita played the blind chauffeur?
Jordan: (Excited.) You were in that?
Blaise: No. But I was supposed to have the lead. (Jordan shrugs. ) Hey, you want to stroll the halls for some babes? (Gives a wink.)
Jordan: Uh, no thanks.
Blaise: Your loss. I ve been looking at the picturebook, and we either have some incredibly beautiful or downright photogenic women in this dorm. (He exits.)
[Lights back up on Ashley and los twinos.]
Tyler: Well, we d love to stay and talk.
Scuyler: But we gotta go.
Tyler: Yeah, BIG party at the Commune.
Scuyler: It s a, uhm, bar, if you know what we mean
Tyler: Hey wanna come with?
Ashley: Actually, I d just like to be alone, if that's alright.
Tyler: Uhm, okay.
Scuyler: What's alone?
Tyler: We've never been alone.
Scuyler: Not since we were born.
Tyler: And not even then.
Scuyler: Oh well.
[ They exit. Ashley, alone. ]
Ashley: I could try to fit in, but what s the use! This blows. (Ashley starts to get emotional, tears welling up in her eyes as she tells her life story.) Awwwww!! For the last eighteen years I ve lived, breathed, eaten, sucked, phagocytocized Leland Stanford Junior University. I've been to every football game since I was three, I've worked as a hasher in my free time over the summer, my mother, father, brother, cousin, and barber all went to Stanford. DAMMIT!! I ve kissed enough butt to get me to Mars!! But now ... I m only here... (Sniff, that leads into some bawling.) I even named my dog... (Crying.) Soto...
[Mournful music begins.]
Why do I feel
I just don t belong?
I ve waited my whole life for this
But something feels wrong
Surrounded by hippies and freaks
I should be surrounded by Stanford elites
I don t belong here it seems!
I have Cardinal Wishes...and Stanford dreams
Why do I feel
So stupid and dumb?
I ve waited all my life for Berkeley
But where did I come?
A mission that I must complete
But still I m surrounded by Stanford elites
I don t belong here it seems!
I have Berkeley Wishes... and tie-dye dreams
[OVs emerge and hum back-up.]
I look lousy in tie-dye, I don t smoke much pot
What good is a Cal education?
I dream of white plazas, old unions and quads
And unfettered, pure grade inflation
I know I should fit in; it s really quite hard
When people use really big words
A Cal Golden Bear can get lost on a farm
When surrounded by Cardinal herds
Why do I feel
I just don t belong?
I ve waited my whole life for this
But something feels wrong
Everything feels out of place
I guess that I ll just keep a smile on my face
I don t belong here it seems!
I have Cardinal Wishes...
...I have tie-dye dreams!
[ Black out.]
[Detective Sterling Quad is rolled in sitting behind his desk as jazz music plays in the pit (a la City of Angels). His whole set is in grays. He takes a drag from his cigarette as he looks out the window.]
Sterling: (Voice-over.) It's not easy being a Stanford dick. How many Hoover Tower jokes can you take in one day. One, two, three, sixteen, forty-two... I've heard em all. Name's Sterling Quad, and I'm a private-eye. (Music.) Fall was in the air, and college freshmen were infecting the campus like Mad Cow disease at your local Jack in the Box. New bikes littered the lawns waiting to be stolen, and mom and dad gave their baby one last look before hopping an Amtrak back to their sheltered lives in Dayton, Ohio. Oh yeah, I remember datin' Ohio. She was a big girl, but I like 'em like that. Sure, the dinner bills were expensive, but it always paid off in the sack.
[Doris, Sterling's secretary, enters his office. She has a Brooklyn accent and likes to chew gum. A lot.]
Doris: Detective Stoiling?
Sterling: What is it, sweetheart.
Doris: There s a Ms. Samantha Freelove to see you, sir.
Sterling: Freelove, eh? Is that really her name?
Doris: Yes, sir.
Sterling: Send her in, Doris. (Doris exits.) Things were looking up.
[Samantha Freelove enters. She stays by the door until Sterling s aside is finished.]
Sterling: (Aside.) She entered the room like she knew the place better than I did. Of course, she didn t. She had baby blue eyes, inviting red lips, and legs longer than a line at the post office come lunch time. She looked like she'd been poured into that dress and somebody forgot to say when. I told her to have a seat. (To Samantha.) Have a seat.
Samantha: Thank you, Detective.
Sterling: What can I do you for, Ms. Freelove?
Samantha: Please, call me Samantha.
Sterling: If that s how you like it. What can I do you for, Sammy?
Samantha: I hear you solve cases.
Sterling: (Aside.) Her hearing was pretty good for a dame. (To her.) You heard right, sweetheart.
Samantha: I feel that somebody's life might be in danger.
Sterling: Danger, eh? Why, "Danger's" my middle name.
Sterling: No, it's Dennis. Don't believe everything you read in the papers, darlin'.
Samantha: I work at the Stanford Admissions Office. And I think that my boss, Dean James Montoya, is missing. (Music.)
Sterling: I wouldn t go printing up milk cartons just yet, baby doll.
Samantha: But he's been gone a while and I'm getting worried.
Sterling: (Aside.) Ah, the pieces suddenly began to fall into place. It seemed that her boss, Dean James Montoya, had been missing for a while, and she was getting worried.
Samantha: I m beginning to think there might be foul play involved. Can you help me, Sterling?
Sterling: (Aside.) She looked at me like a fish caught in headlights, kinda squirmy and confused-like. She needed someone to tell her everything was gonna be alright. That someone was me. (To Samantha.) Samantha?
Samantha: Yes, Sterling.
Sterling: Look here, kid, you stick with me and we ll have this case open and shut like a letterless P.O. Box, like Hoover Tower on a Sunday, like Elizabeth Berkeley s legs in that movie I never saw. (Aside.) But the truth was, things weren t clear at all. They were as murky as Lake Lag in April, but she didn t need to hear that. She needed to hear that Detective Sterling Quad was on the case. (To her.) I'm on the case.
Samantha: Thank you, Sterling. I knew I could count on you.
Sterling: Quit countin', Sammy, and let's go. I charge a hundred dollars a day plus expenses, and I don't mean Tresidder dollars -- there's only so many smoothies a man can drink.
Samantha: Right. (She hands him her business card.) I ll be at the Admissions Office. Meet me in front at noon. I ll be waiting.
[She leaves. He stares at her card and smiles. Sax music crescendos. Black out.]
[A single spot rises on Jordan Ashley, centerstage in front of Red.]
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over.) Jordan Ashley, in pursuit of your mission, you will become a Stanford student through and through. Not in name only, but in body and soul. You will win acceptance into the inner sanctum of Stanford s most sacred and spiritual institution.
[Lights up in front of Red. Several freshmen , including Jordan, line up. Two band members in crazy costumes run around blowing whistles.]
Archie: This is it man. I m tryin out for the Band!
Darwina: Oh, please! Calm down! What s the big deal? The band takes anything that moves!
Bandie 1: (Blows whistle to gather attention.) Alrighty, kids! As you may know already, The Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band, the marching band that brought you the infamous "Catholic High School Girls in Trouble" formation, we have quite rigorous standards regarding who is and who is not marching band material. So let's see if any of you pansies cut the mustard.
Bandie 2: Okay, number one. Do you play an instrument?
Archie: Nope. Well, I suppose I can play the kazoo.
Bandie 1: Hmm. What do you think, Alfonso?
Bandie 2: Good, but not quite good enough. Here. Shotgun this beer. (Archie does. He projectile vomits across the stage.)
Bandie 1: Great kid! You re in. Now go put on this dress and re-stock this cooler! (Archie scampers off.)
Bandie 2: What about you number 2? Do you play an instrument?
Jordan: Sure. Uh... I do a great rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings," using just bubble wrap. And I ve had 12 years of classical sitar training.
Bandie 1: (Angered.) Get lost, loser. (Jordan walks dejectedly away.)
Bandie 2: I thought we were supposed to take anything that moves.
Bandie 1: Come on, now. A band's gotta have some standards. (Orchestra chord.)
[ Lights shift. ]
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over.) You will live as a Stanford student lives. You will enter their places of worship, commune in their places of social gathering where you will absorb the same life-giving nectar.
[ Jordan enters the CoHo. The man behind the counter wows us with his ability to make the finest caffeinated beverages from only the finest coffee beans. A line forms as is usual at the CoHo.]
Employee: Welcome to the CoHo, what can I get for you tonight?
Patron 1: Well, I d like an iced half-caf double almond mocha with a twist of lime, shaken not stirred. And a radicchio salad with a light herb vinaigrette dressing with sprouts on the side.
Employee: Here you go. (Handing her the meal.) What can I do for you?
Patron 2: Um, gimme a decaf vanilla latte with whip cream not milk foam and a not-so-veggie burger with a slice of gouda on top. But if you don t have gouda then I want cheddar, but not on top, on the side and I want it shredded finely and then not a not-so-veggie-burger, but just a veggie burger.
Employee: Coming right up. (He hands her the meal.) Thanks a lot. Next? What can I get for you?
Jordan: Yeah, uh gimme a cup a joe and a jelly donut.
[ A collective gasp from the CoHo clientele. Spit-take? Employee takes a deep breath to maintain composure and speaks with controlled rage.]
Employee: Listen mister. I don t know what kind of establishment you think we re running here, but the only joe we have here is the insane man in the corner with the type-writer. What we serve here is java. Not coffee or joe or black tar. Only the finest espresso drinks made from only the finest coffee beans on earth are what you ll find here. I don t like trouble mister. So, if you don t mind, I m going to have to ask you to leave.
[ Orchestra chord. Lights out on CoHo.]
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over.) You will participate fully in their domestic rituals.
[ Dorm Prez bolts across stage past Jordan unleashing the loudest scream ever.]
Dorm Prez: HOOOOOOOOUSE MEEEEEEETING!!!!!!!!
[ Lights shift. Enter a typical house meeting scene. Kooky freshman, mostly in pajamas, sit around in a lounge, with three RAs leading the brainwashing.]
RA Sarah: And don t forget to sign up for the Scavenger Hunt in the City. Also, Viennese Broom Ball is next week. Alright, that s the end of the RA announcements. Now, since we re all new here to [ dorm with lotsa block tickets] , let s get to know each other by playing a fun Res Ed game.
RA Martin: That s right. I hope everyone remembered to bring an object that says something about who you are.
RA Sarah: Ooh, this'll be fun. Who wants to go first? How about you Heath?
Heath: (Heath is a buffed, macho mamajama.) I don t know. Why don't you come back to me?
RA Linda: Heath, come on...we re you re friends. Tell us about yourself.
Heath: No, really, I can go later.
RA Sarah: Come on Heath, let s see what you got. What did you bring that tells all of your dormmates that "This is Heath Walker!"
Heath: Ah, shucks. Alright. (Heath sheepishly pulls out a cute little stuffed bear.) Everyone, this is Mr. Happy. (Heath causes "Mr.Happy" to wave to everyone.)
[Everyone oohs and ahs. "Oh, that's so cute." Etc.. Heath blushes.]
RA Sarah: Boy, that sure was great! Okay, who's next?
RA Martin: Jordan -- how about you? What have you got there?
Jordan: Well, I don't know. Mine's actually a little bear, too. But I don t know if I should...
RA Linda: Oh, come on, Jordan. If Heath showed us his bear, you can show us yours! Right everybody? (Everyone nods encouragingly.)
Jordan: Well...alright. Check it out!
[He stands up, facing the dorm meeting, and drops trou, and there it is: a big Blue and Gold Oski tattoo emblazoned on his ass. Of course, only his dormmates and not the audience, can see it. But believe us -- it s there. Everyone gasps. Spit-take? Orchestra chord. Black out.]
[Lights rise on the Stanford Admissions Office, a wild Bacchanalian orgy already in progress. We see a boardroom table surrounded by stuffed file cabinets, overflowing waste baskets, huge bins of discarded paper and envelopes. A briefcase graces the table -- smack dab in the middle. It glows almost as if an overhead light is projected on it -- which it is. Paper, applications, flaccid bodies, etc. litter the floor. People play catch. Staff members streak the office and audience. Others play Cowboys and Indians or Cops and Robbers. Some challenge others to contests of no-holds-barred paddle ball. Ultimate Frisbee is being played with wild abandon. There is line dancing. Men are wearing skirts.
Samantha Freelove steps in with a briefcase in her hand, a twinkle in her eye, a spring in her step, a song in her heart, etc. She crosses to her desk.]
Bob: Mona! Go long!
[A football knocks Samantha's files from her arms.]
Samantha: (Collecting her things, dusting herself off.) How can you be so frivolous when there is so much work to be done! We have some serious questions to decide. How should we phrase the new essay question? What color are the acceptance folders going to be?
Lisbon: (On the phone, cupping his hand over the receiver.) Do we want extra cheese or not?
[ A staffer on rollerblades whizzes past, pursued by two on a tandem bike. They crash offstage.]
Xavier: (Juggling.) What is wrong with you, Samantha? You ve got a lot to learn about this job. Relax, slow down. You . . . you move too fast! You got to make the morning last!
[ Samantha sits. Brrrrrrrrrrrrpt!! She holds up a deflated whoopee cushion.]
Samantha: Hey! Who s the wise guy?
Xavier: Just kickin down the cobblestones. . . . (He wanders off.)
[ Frieda grabs Samantha's folder out from under her poor beleaguered nose.]
Frieda: (Laughs like that one bully kid on the Simpsons -- what s his name?) Ha-ha! Come and get it!
Samantha: Hey, give that back!
Frieda: Make me!
Samantha: That . . . isn t professional! Give it to me. Please? We have work to do.
Frieda: (Handing her the folder.) Oh, allllllright! Here, shake on it! (Samantha takes Frieda s hand. BZZZZZT! The old hand-buzzer trick! Works every time! But the Magical Disappearing Ink is still my favorite.)
Greta: (Waking up.) Um... my vote s for extra cheese.
Mona: Look, Samantha, chill out. Take it easy. Relax. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. There s no rush. We re admissions officers, Samantha. We ve got until December before anything needs to be done. It s September!! We don t do anything for months!
[Slower opening intro for Mona to sing.]
An admissions worker s schedule is a tricky one
Life is often hectic 'til our work is done
But come the first of May, when the next class is complete
We just sit down, have a few drinks, kick up our tired feet...
[ Music picks up in tempo.]
From April to December, there s just not much to do
There's time for playing Sega, or watching Doctor Who
For two-thirds of the year here, our job here is the shit
Who needs admissions officers with nothing to admit?
As long as we remember, to shape up by December
Everything will turn out fine
But for now...
Let's form a conga line!
[ Music goes to a Conga beat and they do a Conga line around Samantha. They scream and dance. Two people get on the table and lambada.]
It's tough to pick the best
To choose the destined few
And weed out all the rest
So here s a quick review:
[ Staffers pull files from the Reject Bin and toss them around the stage.]
These kids had 1600's and perfect 4.0's
That's not enough for Stanford, as any yahoo knows
Our admits have the best grades, but their talents don't end there
They win the gold, they save the whales, they ve got that Stanford flair
[ Others pull files from the Accepted Bin.]
This one's a tai chi master
This one's a Scrabble czar
This one's a junior pastor
This one's a child star....
Jules: (Pointing offstage.)
And this one s the President s daughter!
[ We see Chelsea Clinton waving from the back of SURE Escort One. The golf cart honks out "Hail to the Chief" as it crosses the stage.]
As long as we remember to shape up by December
We can surely beat the clock!
But for now...
Let s do the limbo rock!
[ Launch into the Limbo rock and everyone does the limbo. They pull out leis and big Jamaican drinks. Two staffers grab a pole and the fun begins. "How low can you go!" ]
I had a dream to work here
To pick the very best
But now that I'm here, what have I got?
A convoluted mess!
[ Samantha points out her co-workers.]
This one's a great big showoff
This one is always drunk
This one's about to go off
And this one's just a punk!
From April to December, the party comes alive
A bacchanalian festival that lasts from 9 to 5
The office is our playground, the boardroom is our zoo!
We'll photocopy body parts and drink until we re blue!
As long as we remember to shape up by December
Everything will start on cue!
But for now...
There's nothing much to do!!!
Xavier: Life, I love you. . . All is groovy!
[ Song ends. Everyone s back to their nonsense as Samantha finishes picking up her papers. Detective Sterling Quad steps on, stage right. Music.]
Sterling: (Aside.) I knew I had to check out the scene of the crime for myself. I told Samantha I d stop by around noon. But like a sixteen-year-old in the back of his parents Chevy, I came early. I had a funny feeling about the place as I rode up to the second floor. What was the matter with that elevator? When I got there the place was a dump. Yessir, something was up and it wasn t just the yield rate. I could read the signs.
Jules: (Confronting him.) Hey there, buddy! Can't you read the signs? We re closed until December!
Sterling: I'm here to see --
Jules: Hey, pal! Put it in your application, OK? What, you need an application? Send in the damn card!
Sterling: (Aside.) Im-pass-ay. Like he d done to thousands of hopeful high-school standouts, this goon wasn t gonna let me in. I could see that it was time to make an early decision. (He reels back, about to punch Jules, when . . .)
Samantha: It s OK! He s with me.
Jules: What? Samantha? You know this slimeball?
Sterling: That s Detective Slimeball to you. The name s Quad, Sterling Quad. I'm a private dick.
Jules: Oh, well hello there, Detective Slimeball. Ever been to Hoover Tower, dick?
Sterling: Watch it, buddy, or I ll drop you like a bad DR.
Samantha: Both of you, stop it! Sterling, come over here!
[ Staffers hoot and holler. Cat calls: "Yeah, come here, big boy!" Etc.]
Phil: Well, well -- looks like Samantha s got herself a boyfriend! (Admissions staffers laugh clownishly.)
Sterling: (Aside.) These guys were a bunch of clowns. I bet you could pack fifteen of 'em into a Volkswagen. One of those little German numbers. Preferably red.
Samantha: Pay no attention to them. You ve got a joint to case and a case to solve. Feel free to look around.
[ A spotlight rises on the Reject bin and Sterling is drawn to it. He rummages around.]
Sterling: (Aside.) I ve learned a few things in my day. The hard way. You don t mix vodka and Mr. Pibb. You don t put whites in with your darks. [ Pulls out a form.] And you don t drop accepted applications in the Reject bin. Hey, Samantha. This look suspicious to you?
Samantha: Why . . . what is this? The name's blacked out, but I remember that applicant's photo! She was one of our top few -- a President s Scholar, I think! It s stamped "Accept." But according to this, her acceptance letter was never mailed!
Sterling: Hmmm. (He breaks away.) I ve got some questions.
[ Dean Dean appears from the back. He has a menacing look about him, and wears a snarl like it was a tattoo.]
Dean Dean: Hey, you. You got questions, you bring em to me!
Sterling: Who s that?
Samantha: That s Dean.
Sterling: He s the Dean? I thought --
Dean Dean: No, pal. My name is Dean. I'm the Assistant Dean. But I'm Dean till the Dean deems he's ready to come back. You got questions, you bring 'em to me!
Sterling: Very well, Mr. . . ?
Dean Dean: Call me Dean Dean!
Sterling: (Aside.) It didn't take a Dean to glean that Dean Dean was trouble with a capital D. What did he want? What was his angle? What was his story?
Dean Dean: By the way, what do you want? What s your angle? What's your story? Why are you poking around?
Sterling: I m a private di . . . eye. I m paid to poke around.
Dean Dean: Private eye? (Fake forced laughter. Suddenly, he s Mr. Nice Guy.) A private eye? What s the matter? We have no trouble here --
Samantha: That's not so! Dean Montoya's missing! He's been gone for months and no one here seems to care!
Dean Dean: Samantha! You know who hired this guy?
Samantha: I do -- I mean, I did!
Sterling: OK, spill it, Smiley! Where's Montoya?
Dean Dean: (Extremely nervous.) Right now, that's confidential information. But there'll be a public statement on that matter any day now. All I can say is there's no emergency, everything's business as usual. Now if you ll excuse me, me and my hard-working staff have a lot of work to do.
Frieda: Hey, everybody! Look at this! There's a piece of lint in John's bellybutton that looks just like Elvis! (The "workers" all crowd around, oohing and aahing.)
Dean Dean: (Only slightly embarrassed.) Good day, Mr. Quad.
[ He leaves. Sterling and Samantha talk quietly amongst themselves. Lights dim. Jordan Ashley steps onstage, where a spotlight finds him.]
Dr. KAL: (Voiced-over.) Remember Jordan, the briefcase. (Spotlight spotlights the briefcase.) In the Admissions Office. Recover it at all costs. Do NOT disappoint me!
[ Mission: Impossible theme plays softly and the spot on Jordan follows him as he works his way around behind the boardroom table. He grabs the briefcase and holds it up in triumph. He starts to run off -- and runs smack into Sterling, dropping the briefcase at his feet. Lights up.]
Sterling: Can I help you with something, junior?
Jordan: (Barely hiding his terror.) Oh, I was just, uh... looking for a time schedule. (He picks one up from the table.)
ALL: Just take one!!! (With a yelp, Jordan flees.)
Sterling: (Aside.) Something wasn t quite right. Tension hung in the air like somebody's dirty laundry and I had to figure out whose. But I did know there was one clue here yet to be found. But what was it? Where was it?
[ Samantha picks up the briefcase.]
Samantha: A briefcase? What would that kid want with this? (She looks at it.) Sterling! Look at this monogram! JIM...
Sterling: The initials of none other than James Iggy Montoya. This briefcase could crack this case wide open. Unfortunately, I can t crack this briefcase wide open 'cause it's locked.
[ Just at this moment, Doris bursts on the scene. She is panicked and out of breath. She's waving a small brown paper sack.]
Sterling: Doris! What's the matter with you? You look like --
Doris: Oh Stoiling! I've been looking all over for you. I asked around campus. "Has anyone seen Stoiling Quad? Where's Stoiling Quad?" But nobody would help. (In a fake gruff voice.) "Gee, lady, how should I know? I drew preferred." Then I remembered you. (Points to Samantha.) So I came here.
Samantha: What's the problem?
Doris: Oh, this weird guy kept calling! And he said if you knew what was good for you, Stoiling, you d forget all about Dean Montoya! And he had this weird weird voice! Like somethin out of a dubbed-over foreign horror movie.
Samantha: Anything else?
Doris: Oh yeah. Sterling, your lunch. (She gives him the bag.)
Samantha: Wow, this is getting out of hand.
Sterling: Right. Let's review. A missing dean, a trashed application, and a prank caller with a speech impediment. Then there's our rectangular little friend here, the briefcase. Also, my lunch. I'm starving. (He opens the bag.) PB&J, lowfat yogurt and a twinkie. (Aside.) How they get the cream in there, I ll never know. (To them.) But there's no time for that now. Come on, people! We got leads to follow! (They start to exit. )
Jules: Samantha -- where, where you goin'?
Samantha: To find Dean Montoya! (She exits with Sterling and Doris. )
Jules: Dean Montoya? Hey everybody! Anybody seen Dean Montoya?
Greta: Huh? What?
Kyle: Dean Montoya? Haven't seen him for a while. . .
Mona: Is he missing?
Frieda: Hey! Maybe we should look for him! (Everybody gasps.) Well, you know. . . eventually.
[ Oh boy! Quick reprise.]
As long as we remember to find him by December
Everything will be alright
But for now...
[ Enter pizza guy.]
Pizza Guy: Hey, someone order fourteen combination and one with extra cheese?
[ They mob him. Music finishes as they eat. As it dies away, ice cream truck music is heard.]
Frieda: Hey everybody, do you hear what I hear?!?
[ More cheesy ice cream truck music.]
ALL: Ice Cream Man!!!!
[ Everyone runs offstage screaming various ice cream names. The stage is soon empty. The phone rings.]