This is Part 1 of the Late Mr. Irving. It's supposed to be incredibly campy. You have been warned. As the show is a musical, the singing is in italics. It looks long, but it's only around 1200 words.
CHARACTERS:
LAWYER: Mr. Irving's Lawyer.
MS SHARP: The owner of the Pushing Up Daises funeral home. She seems like a nice old lady, but has the disturbing habit of talking to the corpses.
SUSAN: Mid forties. Looks like a Martha Stewart type, but used to run a grow-op
NERISSA: Twenties. A pale and creepy girl with a dark secret.
JANINE: Forties. A stylish and manipulative woman.
EDGAR: Early twenties. Janine’s much younger boyfriend, who is posing as her son with Ivan in order to get his money.
IVAN IRVING: The recently deceased 38-year-old inventor of canned chicken.
TIME:
A rainy September afternoon
SETTING:
The Pushing Up Daisies Funeral Home
****************************************************
THE LATE MR IRVING
SCENE: The funeral home. IVAN’s casket is on a raised platform at the back. MS SHARP sets up chairs while LAWYER reads the obituary aloud. It is raining softly.
LAWYER: We are sad to announce the passing of Mr. Ivan Irving, well-loved businessman and the inventor of Canned Chicken. The millionaire died while on holiday in Brazil. There will be an informal commemorative service held at the Pushing Up Daisies funeral home on Saturday for family and friends.
(Lights up)
LAWYER: It’s quite a good obituary, if I do say so myself.
MS SHARP: Very nice, dear. (She continues rearranging the chairs) I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of this Canned Chicken stuff. What is it exactly?
LAWYER: Well, I believe the official slogan is; “It’s like Chicken, only canned.” They just recently changed it- the old slogan wasn’t doing too well. What was it again? Oh -“It’s like Chicken, only not.”
MS SHARP: Ah. I see. (Finishes setting up chairs) There. I think that should be just fine. I’ll go and put on some tea now.
LAWYER: I think you’d better put out some more chairs, Ms Sharp
MS SHARP: No, no. I’m sure these will be sufficient. I haven’t heard that Mr. Irving has any surviving family, and he was quite reclusive. (Moves to coffin to adjust sheet) Weren’t you, poor dear?
LAWYER: (Ignoring the last part) That is precisely the reason why we’re going to need at least half a dozen more chairs.
MS SHARP: I don’t believe I understand.
LAWYER: Look out there, Ms Sharp (pointing out the window). Do you see those people walking by the window right now? They may appear to be innocent schoolchildren, but they’re not. They are desperate people ruled by one thing alone – money. They grasp for it, scrounge for it, steal for it, kill for it! They live for it, every action driven by the thought of getting more! Now, if you were one of these consumer-driven, shallow, materialistic people, and you happened to hear of an exceedingly rich, reclusive, young man who had just expired don’t you think you’d drop in on his send off party?
MS SHARP: Why, young man -you think people will pretend they knew Mr. Irving, just to get his money?
LAWYER: I’m almost certain of it Ms Sharp.
MS SHARP: I’m sure you’re mistaken! (Beat) Anyway, the will should take care of any disagreements, should it not?
LAWYER: (Beat) There is no will.
MS SHARP: What do you mean?
LAWYER: Well, Mr. Irving was only thirty-eight years old, and I’ve only been his estate manager for a year and, well – it just didn’t seem logical to think about a will!
MS SHARP: Ah. So that’s why you’re here.
LAWYER: Yes. I have to inspect these so-called relatives and friends in the very unlikely event that one of them actually knew Mr. Irving, and may therefore have a legitimate claim to his money.
MS SHARP: I don’t think anyone would attempt to do something like that unless they had a very good reason for it. The world isn’t as awful as you think! (Awkward pause. Thunder is heard)
LAWYER: Well. The weather is; that’s for sure. Look at all that rain. Looks like we’re in for a real storm.
MS SHARP: Ah. It’s a very nice day for a funeral.
(SONG: It’s a Very Nice Day for a Funeral)
Ms S + Lawyer:
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to stay in bed
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to be dead
(Enter SUSAN, outside)
SUSAN: (Attempting Irish accent) Oh, I remember when little Ivan was just a lad, he – (normal voice) No, no! Uh- (Fakes French accent) I am Ivan’s favourite Aunt, Suzanna! Oh, my poor little Ivan! This is terrible! (Normal voice) Oh, never mind! I’ll be much more convincing if I just be myself – well, no, not myself – dear old auntie Sue! Just think of the money!
Ms S, Lawyer + Susan
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to stay in bed
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to be dead
(Enter NERISSA, outside)
NERISSA: Oh, it’s raining so hard! Well, never mind that, Nerissa, a little rain won’t hurt anyone. (Acting badly) Oh, poor Ivan! My long lost brother! (Herself again) O-o-okay, deep breath Nerissa, you have a job to do here! No one will find out about the secret. Let’s just hope none of his real family show up. This is all your own stupid fault Nerissa, don’t try and blame anyone else. If you hadn’t spilled your secret, you’d still be living life in Sunny Bay. Come on, Nerissa, just think of the money!
Ms S, Lawyer, Susan, Nerissa
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to stay in bed
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to be dead
(Enter Edgar and Janine. Edgar kisses her)
JANINE: None of that, Edgar honey. I’m your mother now, remember?
EDGAR: I can’t help myself, Janine. You’re just so beautiful.
JANINE: Edgar! Focus! (She slaps him. He smiles dreamily.) Good. Now, do you remember the story? Your name is…
EDGAR: Ivan Jr.
JANINE: And who is your father?
EDGAR: Ivan Irving, the inventor of canned chicken.
JANINE: And why doesn’t he live with us anymore?
EDGAR: We were tragically separated on a flight from Germany.
JANINE: Good boy. Now let’s go! Remember- when we get the money we can get out of here, and I promise I will be just the two of us. Just think of the money!
All
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a very nice day to stay in bed
It’s a very nice day for a funeral
It’s a - dum dum de dum da na na na na na na (funeral march)
For a funeral!
LAWYER: How’d he die, anyway? I just got a call saying he’d shuffled off this mortal coil, and I got here as fast as I could to deal with the estate.
MS SHARP: (to Ivan) I don’t suppose you want to tell him the story? Well, never mind dear, I will. Mr. Irving was on vacation in Brazil, and he got bit by something – made him a little- (she moves away from the coffin, so Ivan won’t hear) well, a little crazy. He would stay awake all night, moaning, and he developed a strange fear of salt – and then he ran around telling everyone that he was dying, even though the doctors could find nothing wrong with him. Eventually he threw himself into a chicken mulcher in one of his Brazilian plants.
LAWYER: How… appropriate. Then surely it is a closed casket funeral?
MS SHARP: Oh, no. The mulcher was turned off.
LAWYER: What killed him then?
MS SHARP: The drop. (Thunder)
LAWYER: Well, I guess he wouldn’t have lasted much longer, anyway. Those eccentric millionaires never do!
MS SHARP: Shh! Mr Irving wasn’t deaf, you know. The man’s had a troubling week, let’s try not to make it any harder for him.
Gender:
Points: 4569
Reviews: 57