Song One: New York Night

This is the (chronological) first song in the musical project that I'm working on, tentatively titled A Jolly Good Musical. I'm planning to write a total of 12 songs, which, when put together, will tell a complete story. Each song is like an episode, and will be a fairly self-contained story that should feel as if it belongs to an actual musical play, but all 12 songs together will tell the story perfectly fine, without any extra dialog besides what I may throw in at the beginning and end of each song.

Just for the record, I am employing unnecessarily detailed stage directions as a way to get the story across as well as the occasional good-sized amount of dialog.

Anyway, I might improve upon this song in the future, since I don't think it's quite the literary rhyming masterpiece it could be. Comments are welcome and wanted.



1. New York Night

    In New York, two figures walk down a street, dodging into alleys and dark corners, while glancing furtively around.

    Street lamps light the way on the otherwise empty street.

    This being a musical, one of the men, Simon Privett, spontaneously breaks into song.

Simon:
It's twelve o'clock; the witching hour
the night is dark and damp and dour
but in the town
no lights are down
The street venders are out and hawking flowers

People bustle about just like busy bees
Jostling each other with never a "please"

And that's terrible-

    The shorter and more portly man, Ed Hoff, comments.

Ed:

Quite!

Simon:

But it's still alright

So long as you can avoid their fleas.

Tonight I find myself out on the street

Enjoying the non-fresh air on my two feet

With this guy Ed

Who's my dear friend
I've just finished a job to make ends meet.

Ed:

"A job," he says. That's rather droll

We're not out here for a simple stroll

We're on the run

For a con we've done

And now escape is our only goal

Somewhere behind a store clerk waits
Though to be fair, I doubt he hates
us since he's Amish

despite our con-

    Simon breaks in innocently.

Simon:

...ish.

Ed:

I'm sure he'll forgive us post-haste!

    Up the street, a trio of policemen show up, dressed in the old-fashioned costumes of the 1920's. They proceed to peer suspiciously and authoritatively into every window of every shop along the street, almost bumping into each other as they go.

    They resemble three of those rocking toys that flip back up after being tipped over.

Cops:

It's twelve o'clock on a New York night
Us New York cops have just begun the fight

Cop 1:

I'm a New York cop

Cop 2:

And I'm here to stop

Cop 3:

This enormous thief-and-scoundrel blight.

Cops:

You'll find in each nook and cranny in town

A crook or a fiend or merely a clown

We'll get Simon and Ed

be they alive or dead

It'll give us a smile, and give them... a frown.

    Up ahead, Simon and Ed continue the song.

Ed:

If we are caught, we're out of luck

In a pickle is where we will be stuck

Since to be clear
We stole a deer

Simon:

But come now, who'll miss just one buck?

And after all, the venison's gone

Been in our stomachs for far too long
And I would hate

To regurgitate

A meal that makes my body strong.

    The cops still search fruitlessly.

Cop 1:

They're over here, by this dead end.

Cop 2:

No, I see them here, just around the bend.

Cop 3:

This won't do

We need a clue

Let's all question this by-standing bartend.

    By now they've worked their way up to where Simon and Ed are. Ed is leaning on a barrel by the side of the road, wearing a false mustache. Simon is nowhere to be seen.

    The cops approach Ed, having mistaken him for a reliable witness.

Ed:

You say the manhunt must be directed?

By an informant, no doubt respected?

Two sneaky crooks

With dashing good looks

Just hopped a train for New Jersey directed

Cop 1: (spoken)
New Jersey! There's not a moment to lose!

Cop 2:

Have a tip for your trouble, good sir.

The cops leave. 

    Ed removes his false mustache and Simon emerges from the pork barrel that Ed is leaning on.

Simon: (slow)

It's twelve o'clock in New York state

Gone are the cops we love to hate

As they chase a wild goose

It is time to cut foot-loose

Moving the opposite direction is our fate

    With this said, Simon and Ed nimbly scoot off into the night.

Coming soon.... ~ Song Two: Trains and Revenge