The Tragedie of Michael Jackson, King of Pop

IT IS TIME!

Enter THE KING, MISS JANET, SIR PAUL, SIR MICK, the consul for the defence URI GELLER and for the prosecution ALEX IN NYC.

THE KING: Actually, not since 1986.

THE KING: 'Tis just another part of me.

ALEX IN NYC:
let the wide arch of brooklyn
into the foaming hudson fall
before these many-cursed villains
once more attain their liberty.
It out-Herods Herod! ha! liberty! what is it
but a yet more spacious cage within which
reprobates and traitors ply their schemes?
but let us quiet!
- the trial begins!

(aside)
i'll daub it thus for now, outrage seeming heaped on outrage until the jurors beg heaven to contend against such villainy! then i'll 'minster the fatal blow; when bashir speaks, the noose will follow!

ALEX IN NYC:
From what Planet, sirrah, do you come?
Are you ignorant, or are you simply dumb--
The King of Pop, he stands afore your eyes
No Fool would miss such lame disguise.

Enter one of the KING's minions, leading a strange beast on a leash

KING: Ah, 'tis CaliBubbles! Speak, CaliBubbles, speak!

CALIBUBBLES: Ooo! Oooo! Oooo! Eeee! Eee! Eee!

Chorus of JACKSON WASSAILERS: "...Easy as one, two, three."

HARK! THE JURY SITS!

Have to agree. His appeal, while maddening, is relentless. Of all the collected wisdom on my personal site, this picture accounts for half of the hits every day, gratis, ususally, google image search. Okay, maybe wisdom is the wrong word...

an image

Enter TIMBERLAKE.

TIMBERLAKE aside:
As the path of the sunne in yon sky
Th'arc of Fame doth live, and doth die.
Renown once held must in some wise stop
I shall usurp his crown of Pop.

Once I was but a mere Boy amongst a band.
My moves were freshe, but my beats, they were bland.
Then a vexèd wardrobe shocked each rube
Now my Fame rests on one piercèd boob.

TIMBERLAKE:
as with you my liege
'tis but the native hue of resolution
sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought

THE KING:
damned insolence!
(aside)
yet this leads nowhere
i shall consult my soothsayer!
call geller!

enter GELLER

THE KING: is't true soothsayer
that in the movement of swallows
o'erarching the cerulean firmament
that shadowy arc which divides men from stars
thou can'st divine man's fortunes?

GELLER:
in nature's infinite book of secrecy
A little I can read

THE KING:
pray then, foresee my fate

GELLER:
thou shalt be innocent until the army of exeter
doth topple to the rude shock
of manchestrian onslaughts

THE KING:
'tis good

GELLER:
till iron spoons bend and watches wake from dusty death
your kingdom will endure

THE KING
excellent soothsayer!

i cry for thee, jackson
these tears shall cleanse

THE KING:
do not despair your majestie!
for my plans never cease to be
i now must cultivate an army
an army of leprechauns from thee!

THE KING OF IRELAND:
but what ambitions and what tomfoolery a plan this could be
how must you convince the Mother Of Nature
to provide you with many a storm
many a rain
many a drizzle
many an interrupting Sun
to allow many a rainbow
for which thy must find all these pots o gold, ye pop king, dare i ask?

THE KING:
begorrah!
i may exist on thee plain of a pauper in these dying aching days
but even a leper, less of that a leprechaun, hath always the gift of luck!
and being blessed with immaculate charm in earlier years, ye
you generous and love of conditional, your majestie of clovers
must not deny the law above all dirt on which we lay, we walk, and we shovel
it is magick, your majestie!
leprechauns will bring you this majick! Me majick!
The world majick!
Commission a park for this army of leprechaun magick at once!

THE KING OF IRELAND:
i am overwhelmed with your charm, pop king. you do never lie.
to my people, nor ever again on this slag of dung!

THE KING:
i shall never!

And so surprised as the musick hath been abridged
a lobbing of this coat of mine into a sea of admirers
Mine a tribute to my phalanx of this future of young
so overpowering it could not all be sung!

only jackson thread that matters

so true

<3 this thread - hope someone steps up for the epilogue

I'll make some calls.

^^^to all the above

But hush, what commotion is this? Methinks the king or someone else arrives. I'll to to the arrass, conceal myself and watch what business shall unfold!

ultimate fucked-up child star, move along, nothing to see here, folks

Wow.

SIR PAUL
A glooming peace o'er Neverland this day.
Peter Pan for sorrow will not show his head.
Go hence, to have more talk of death of pop;
Biographies rewritten, concerts cancelled.
The Earth song will be sung in far flung lands;
For never was a HIStory of more woe
Than this of Michael and his Billie Jean.

http://www.chicagoreader.com/chicago/that-was-it-the-tragic-tale-of-our-king-michael-jackson/Event?oid=7050531

That Was It: The Tragic Tale of Our King Michael Jackson

Tongue firmly in cheek, playwright C.J. Tuor borrows the structure of a Greek tragedy (plus a few tricks from Shakespeare and Bertolt Brecht) to tell the King of Pop's life story. Director-choreographer Ali Keirn embellishes Tuor's extremely witty tale -- featuring a chorus that intones lyrics from Jackson hits -- with eccentric dramatic poses, overwrought modern-dance tableaux, and lots of trademark Jackson moves. But what really sells this high-energy comedy is the cast's ability to win laughs even as they lay bare the pathos in Jackson's story. Playing Jackson pre- and post-plastic surgery respectively, Tom Daily and Emily Goldberg are particularly winning. —Jack Helbig