The Players.
GRAMPS: an old man.
LAD: a youth.
MERMAID: a mermaid.

All the players must take pains to overact and speak to the audience as much as possible. They are dressed in Victorian costumes of the most outrageous sort. A painted backdrop in Renaissance colors sets the scene as “The Seashore.”

(GRAMPS pontificates to LAD as they walk along the shore. LAD runs ahead, picking up seashells.)

GRAMPS: Liquorice and labials and sounds produced from tongue.
A better butter bitters bread. George Washington was dead.
A cry be cry to go as so. I slashed and slew, and ho!
A way, a way, a merry way. We’d found a way to go!
Mary Poppins seized the roast, Professor grabbed a fork.
A happy two, they spoke, they spoke, and raised a cheery toast.
A hunger hithered happy ho, is that not more than three?
But count them not, nor any man, lest thou get over me.
The grapes did sing a Kellogg’s song, the waters whined a tune,
But ne’er did whence a hedgehog roost, nor any other bird.

LAD: Father, that is wise and true, like seashells in the sand.
But I am young and you are dead in cackling Ka-Karrand.

GRAMPS: But Lad, that sucks, I say it loud! Is that not more than airs.
When playing songs, we played them loud and to a merry crowd.

(A MERMAID rises from the sea.)

MERMAID: In little lights and limey night, a serpent sang his tune.
A baby boy did weep and crow, and called out to the moon.
The moon replied with bitter airs that hardly it did know:
To rise the tide and sink the ships, or to the North Wind blow?
So sailors sing their shanty songs and lubbers lie a-land.
But mermaids we, have not a place in Tyre or other land.

LAD: How sad indeed. I weep with grief to see such tales foretold.
But cheery be, for fortunes rise in treasures still untold.
A harvest moon, an oat of gold, shines on the dawny dew.
To wither hence, is but nonsense in dither dally due.

GRAMPS: Well both you youths grow stranger still, like tides foretold you would.
I say it now, and say it proud, with witches we dispense.

MERMAID: I’m not a witch, you creepy coot, you wrinkled sack of woe.
Your sailor rests below the decks, while Laddie’s chubbies grow.

GRAMPS: You filthy thing, you wretched whore to speak of vulgar things.

MERMAID: A dick, a prick, we call it will. Or Bill, or Norzgarry.

LAD: I have mine; I love it most. I teach him tricks and games.
A merry man with many names, I think I’ll set him free.

MERMAID: Do please, do please. And please you do, you whipper-snapping lad.

Do come to mama Mermaid, you’ll make your willy glad.

(LAD drops his trousers and runs to MERMAID. They embrace and roll in the sand.)

GRAMPS: How foul a sight, a sickly scene. I’ll beat her with my cane. (He does this.)
A fishy thing, a stenchy smell, all seaweedy and sour.
And what of boy and Billy, too? Oh, don’t they know the hour.
It’s getting late, and I can’t wait for nonsense such as this.
Why Heavens be and Gods behold! That mermaid’s but a fish.

MERMAID: A fish I’m not, you crabby sot. I’ve got two tits, and arms.

GRAMPS: The sea. The sea. So back you go. Into the sea, you ho!

(GRAMPS drives MERMAID into the sea with his cane.)

LAD: But Gramps, my man, the stars behold. My God, what have you done.
A Mermaid’s fish, as that is this. I’d like to have my fun.

GRAMPS: Oh no you don’t, you lousy sort. You’ll lead life into ruin.
A tempting thought, two tits and ought, but ne’er a wary bargain.
Forbid you fuck a churly tart, lest sense be lack of reason.

(GRAMPS and LAD exit.)