Act I, scene iii - Actually, Sometimes....
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(Neil and Chris are back on the sofa. The three new arrivals try to make
themselves comfortable on a useless rug. Vince is bandaging Dave's finger.
Andy holds the gauze and scissors)
DAVE (glaring at Martin, muttering caustically): "Does this affect
your singing?" he says after crushing my finger. Why
not just amputate all my limbs, put me in a box and
hit me in the back of the head every time you need
something sung?
CHRIS (looking thoughtfully at Neil): Now that's an idea...
VINCE (to Dave): Keep still, I have to secure this.
DAVE (to Vince): Why do you care? I mean, you abandoned me 17 years ago...
VINCE (finishing up the bandaging job): I didn't abandon you - you didn't
need me any more. And of course I
care. You were my first singer.
ANDY: And I'm your last, right? Vince...? Vince!!
(Vince gives Andy a ludicrously evil smile. Andy laughs and cheers up, but
looks worried again when Vince continues to fuss over Dave's finger. Andy
inches over to the sofa and perches on the end nearest to Chris.)
ANDY (whispering to Chris): Why is Vince still holding Dave's hand?
CHRIS: How would I know? Post-first-aid, tender loving care, maybe?
ANDY: Do you think he'll leave me and go back to them?
CHRIS: Just because he's mothering that big baby? I think not. Even if he
does, I'll take you on as my vocalist. We both know Neil can't
really sing! *snicker*
ANDY: Thanks for the offer, but I want Vince.
CHRIS: Hey, what am I? Chopped liver? Wait a minute... do I like liver...?
(In the meantime, Dave and Martin have been conducting a half-whispered
exchange which grows increasingly audible)
MART: All right, all right! So I was insensitive about your finger! But
you _know_ you're not just a voice to me - I thought we went over
all that after hearing the things we said about one another in those
dreadful interviews.
FLETCH: Oh! *groan* Those were like a series of exceptionally horrible
family therapy sessions! There were times when I thought that for
all the trouble we were going through, we should at least be married
to one another or something.
DAVE: A belated attempt at being nice doesn't make up for the past. It
still hurts when I think of the time you rang me up and made me cry,
Mart.
VINCE (to Martin, in surprise): You made him cry?
MART: I see your heart bleeding away merrily, but you didn't have to live
with him.
DAVE: "Live with him"! We hardly saw each other!
MART: I spoke figuratively.
DAVE: So can I, then - what makes you think you were any easier to "live
with"? The amount of sheer crabbiness I had to endure every time you
launched another one of your stupid schemes to quit drinking...
MART: Why are you always the one who's been wronged? You put _me_ through
a long hell, not knowing if what I'd worked so hard to build was
going up in smoke in two minutes because of your irresponsible stunts!
FLETCH: What about me? I had to worry about one of you dying from a drug
overdose and another possibly collapsing with a seizure and drowning
in the bathtub while taking two years to convince my wife that just
because I was suddenly spending time at home and tripping her up in
the restaurant, it didn't mean I was having an affair with one of the
waitresses - not that she'd care....
DAVE (ignoring Fletch): But after it was over you still went on and on
about it. Even now that you're being "nice", you
continue contradicting me and publicly humiliating
me when I say how much I identify with your lyrics.
MART: Saying that you identify with my lyrics is one thing; proclaiming
that you _are_ my lyrics is another.
DAVE: I think I should be allowed to speak the lines I sing for you.
MART: No. They're mine.
NEIL: Oh my, what a contentious, individualistic threesome you are -
innuendo intended, of course. Why not use Chris and me as a model?
We share the lyrics - and credits - whenever we can. Of course
there's the occasional tiff when Chris is In A Mood, but otherwise
we get along beautifully.
FLETCH: And hate everybody else. Marvellous example for every band in the
world to model themselves on, I'm sure.
CHRIS (muttering): I wish you'd all shut up, I want to take a nap.
ANDY: Well, there's no one sweeter than Vince in that respect. He once
wrote two songs all by himself on holiday, came back and gave them to
me as a present.
MART: Ah-ha! I remember one of those songs! You stole a riff from "See
You" for "Stop"! Years later you used it again for "Reach Out"!
VINCE (quietly): You mean the riff I taught you in my bedroom 20 years ago.
NEIL (gasping theatrically): The bedroom?? Oooh! What have I always told
you, Chris? It's the quiet, straight ones
you've got to watch!
CHRIS (livening up): I _knew_ there was something iffy about "Boys Say Go"
and "What's Your Name", coming from Mr
Straight-half-of-Erasure! Did you write them for
Martin? Did you? Did you??
VINCE (blushing furiously): We used to work in my house because we didn't
have a studio! We weren't up to anything!
NEIL: Oh really?
FLETCH: I can vouch for the innocence of those early jam sessions.
NEIL: Ah, but what happened every time you fell asleep with your face on
the strings while trying hopelessly to make sense of the guitar?
Something fishy was going on between those two, I tell you - and
didn't Martin admit that he wrote "See You" about Vince? Look at the
lyrics!!
MART: I took a lot of artistic liberties in the writing of those lyrics.
CHRIS: A likely explanation.
VINCE: Eh? You wrote "See You" for me??
MART: Well, in a manner of speaking....
CHRIS (squashing Martin with a well-aimed cushion): No more lyrics!!
ANDY (grinning): I say, Vince (ducks the next flying cushion)... It's
yet another one!
VINCE (warily): Yet another what?
ANDY: Another song about you! Do you realise that you could be the most
written-about pop star alive today? There's "See You", there's
Alison's "Ode To Boy" - and several more by her, I'll bet - oh, and
only about 80 percent of all my lyrics. Now, how many other people
can honestly say that they've had several chart hits and a ton of
other popular songs written for or about them?
(Vince turns an interesting shade of pink, retreats to the armchair and
searches for a hole in the upholstery to disappear through)
MART: That's enough! You're embarrassing him to death!
NEIL: I'd say you look pretty embarrassed yourself.
MART: Oh, all right, I admit it! So I had a bit of a crush on him when I
was younger - so what?
ANDY: You too? Did you tell him?
MART: I didn't have to. He figured it out, panicked and fled the band.
VINCE: That's not true!!!
ANDY: He didn't run away from me when he found out I liked him!
MART: Ah, but you didn't lure him into the woods and try to snog him up
against a tree.
ANDY: And you didn't announce to the whole world that you thought he had a
nice ass.
MART: You didn't corner him in the broom closet every time his mother went
out shopping.
VINCE: Mart!! None of this is true!!!
ANDY: You didn't tell him sexy tall stories about gay men and kangaroos.
NEIL and CHRIS: Kangaroos?!?
MART: You didn't make spaniel's eyes at him on Top of the Pops.
FLETCH (incredulously): Wait a minute! When the hell did all this happen?
Why didn't I ever know about any of this?
MART: Oh, come on, Fletch! You were comatose half the time, drooling all
over the cables and making peculiar noises where your face pressed
the keys down.
DAVE: Where was I??
MART: It was mostly in the days before we knew you existed. Even after you
joined us, your eyes were always glued on one pair of boobs or
another....
NEIL: Not on Martin's, that for sure!
(Neil and Chris enjoy a good laugh)
FLETCH (noticing how red Vince has turned): Vince, if it's any consolation,
I never had a crush on you.
VINCE: Oh. (considers this piece of information for a while) Why ever not?
DAVE (to Mart): I can't believe that Fletch and I were never told about any
of this! How could you keep it from us? Was it because of you
that Vince was in _such_ a hurry to leave the band?
FLETCH: Yeah, Mart, I thought I was your best friend. Why didn't you tell me?
MART: As I remember it, for the longest time you were Vincie's best friend
and I had to work my ass off to make you my best buddy!
ANDY: "Vincie"!?!
(Neil and Chris collapse in an untidy heap of giggles)
DAVE: And as I remember it, you two always did everything you could to
make me feel left out. You were so damned thick and secretive I -
FLETCH: For pity's sake, we've been over all this already!
FLUFFY (offstage): Miao!
(Everyone freezes)
DAVE, FLETCH and MART: Fluffy???
(Enter Fluffy)
FLUFFY: Miao! [Well, it's not Rin Tin Tin, you nitwits]
DAVE: Fluffy, my poor kitty, what are you doing here? You don't exist on
this plane!
FLUFFY: Mrrow.... [Who cares which plane I exist on? I'm here, so feed me!]
CHRIS: I don't want a cat scratching its claws all over my habitat.
ALL THE OTHERS (burying him under a mountain of cushions): NO LYRICS!!
(Enter Rover, a large German Shepherd)
ROVER: Woof!
CHRIS (emerging from the pile of cushions): My dog! My dog's back! I
have a dog again!
NEIL: What? While there's still no lover in sight for me? Mr Gahan, will
you have dinner with me?
DAVE (scrambling to his feet): Hell, no! I'm NOT going on a date with you
just because Chris' oversized pooch decided to come home!
(Rover espies Fluffy and chaos ensues. In the midst of the ruckus, Andy goes
over to the armchair and sits down next to Vince)
ANDY: Are you all right?
VINCE: Yeah. Are you upset about what Martin said?
ANDY: Well... no, not really - I thought it was cute. At least, it won't
make me stop writing songs about you!
(Chris grabs Rover and Fluffy tumbles off the mantelpiece into Dave's arms)
FLUFFY: Mao! [My hero!]
ANDY (to Vince): So are you going back to them?
VINCE: No, I've got you.
FLUFFY: Rrrreow! [Ugh! Schmaltziness overdose! *gag!*]
ANDY: Even if you'd be much more successful with them?
VINCE: I'd rather be ruined with you.
FLUFFY: Aaaoow... [I think I'm going to be sick]
NEIL: *groan* Pass the bucket.
[end of scene iii]
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