UnScripts:American Colonization: The Musical!

From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia

Jump to: navigation, search
Unscriptlogo


This script art a part of

The UnScripts Project

Your personal Shakspearian folio of humor, love, woe and other silly emotions.


Main Paige | Marlowe of the Month | Requests | The Scripts Collection


edit Cast

Narrator - Do we really have to explain that one?
Spain - An adventurous explorer. Protagonist
England - At first, the poor man's version of Spain. Later is most important character. Protagonist.
France - England's rival. Antagonist
Russia - An eccentric and often crazed character. Antagonist
Germany - A late blooming, middle-aged character. Emotionally disturbed.
Native Americans - A hapless and light hearted character.

edit Prologue

The narrator walks onstage. Elegant and graceful, he puts one in mind of a young Christopher Lee.

Narrator -

Eight countries, none alike in dignity,
In young America, where we lay our scene,
From trading grudge springs forth new papacy,
Where vile blood makes vile hands more clean.
From forth the girded ports of these eight foes
Brave bands of world explorers stake their might;
Whose eagerness to America expose
Doth with their gains renew their countries' strife.
The fearful passage northward which they sought,
And the continuance of their countries' rage,
Which, in its woeful throes, made all distraught
Is now these few hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

He bows, then walks offstage.

edit Act I

edit Scene i

A Viking longboat. Vikings are running around, doing their jobs. The Head Viking is standing near the bow, looking heroic. Another Viking goes up to him.

Subordinate Viking - Where are we really heading, Sir? No one has ever charted these waters before, and, well, there is a rumor going around that we are heading to the end of the world.

Head Viking - Yes, that is true. We are--- Rufus! Come over here!

A hunchback with a face like a hamster, one arm shorter than the other, and a limp scampers over.

Rufus - Yesh, mashtah?

Head Viking - This is Rufus. He's our boat's pet.

Subordinate Viking - Thor's gonads! Where did it come from?

Head Viking - I picked him up from Iceland. He was living in a Hessian sack, and most of his meals consisted of trash from local pubs.

Rufus - Shome timesh, zhey threw meh a rock. Ah like rocksh, zhey'sh good eatin'.

Head Viking - More like at him, but you get the point...

Subordinate Viking - That's very nice, but there's a hole in your story, Sir.

Head Viking - And that's...?

Subordinate Viking - We never went to Iceland!

Head Viking - Well, see--

The boat shakes, finally hitting land. Another Subordinate Viking comes to the Head Viking.

Other Subordinate Viking - Sir, because of you, we've hit land! Now there's a hole in the ship!

Head Viking - Not to worry. Let's just look at the map.

Other Subordinate Viking - But, Sir, we're off the map!

Head Viking - Not to worry. Let's just flip the map over.

They flip it over.

Subordinate Viking - There's nothing there!

Head Viking - Of course not! That's why they make it blank; so we can fill it in! Now, let's see here...

The Head Viking whips a crayon from within his many vests.

Other Subordinate Viking - You do know that's anachronistic, don't you?

Head Viking - Oh, shove it. Let's see, hmmm... there's this big rock... let me draw that in... a patch of moss... ooh! And there's a clump of seaweed!

Rufus - Mashtah, look!

The Vikings look up. Towering over them, up upon the rocky crag on which they crashed, is a Native American.

Subordinate Viking - What-- what is it?

Head Viking - I don't know. Let's attack it!

Rufus - Yesh, mashtah, yesh!

Other Subordinate Viking - No! We don't even know if they're violent! They could be--

An arrow suddenly sprouts from the side of his head. The Vikings look back up to the Native American, who is now wielding a very nasty-looking bow.

Head Viking - RUN AWAY!!!

The Vikings quickly gather up and begin paddling the boat back to open waters. Atop the cliff, the Native American gives one long, loud bark of laughter and walks off.


edit Scene ii

The narrator returns to the stage.

Narrator - For almost 500 years, America lay undiscovered, ripe for the taking, until...

A sudden wind blows over the stage. The narrator walks offstage as three ship sail over the ocean. They are the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. Atop the mast of the Santa Maria is Christopher Columbus.

Christopher Columbus - Forsooth!

He slides down the mast. Walking up to the first mate, he taps him on the shoulder.

Christopher Columbus - Rojo!

Rojo turns around. It is Rufus, wearing an eyepatch.

Rojo - Yesh, mashtah?

Christopher Columbus - Rojo! Soft, what rock from yonder ocean breaks!

He give a telescope to Rojo and points him in the right direction.

Rojo - Ahww!

Christopher Columbus - It is the East, and India we have outdone!

Rojo - Injhia!

Christopher Columbus - Comrades! Gather, for land we have reached. You will now all receive your pay!

A few grumbles are heard.

Subordinate Spaniard - You told us you'd pay us two weeks ago!

Christopher Columbus - Yes, but that was only if you found land, and--

Rojo - Mashtah!

Christopher Columbus - Soft, Rojo, soft! Be still!

Rojo - Mashtah, weh--

There is a crash. The Santa Maria has washed up on a sandy beach.

Christopher Columbus - Oho!

Quickly, he grabs the flag hanging from the bow, leaps off the boat, and jams the banner into the sand.

Christopher Columbus - I claim this land in the name of Spain!

Subordinate Spaniard - But you're Ita--

Christopher Columbus - Soft, now, be still! There is peril afoot!

He attempts to grab a sword from one of the men's scabbards, but gets it stuck, eventually pulling so hard that he yanks the man's pants off.

Christopher Columbus - Forsooth! Oho!

He runs toward the jungle, waving the sword wildly, when a Native American steps out from behind a tree.

Christopher Columbus - Die, scurvish knave!

Going in for a haphazard swing, he twirls around and gouges out his own eye.

Christopher Columbus - Beelzebub's minions! Ahai!

The rest of the crew approach the Native American.

Subordinate Spaniard - Who are you?

Native American - Ik ben een inwoner.

The Spaniards look at each other.

Subordinate Spaniard - Was that a threat?

Native American - Wat zijn u? U spreekt niet zeer keurig.

Subordinate Spaniard - Native of India, I order you--

Rojo - Exshushe meh!

The Spaniards look at Rojo.

Rojo - Taht mensh doesh not shpeak 'Indi.

Subordinate Spaniard - What do you mean? How do you know--

Rojo - Ah shpeak Native. Leaht meh tahk to hem.

Subordinate Spaniard - Er... all right, then.

The crew moves aside to let Rojo by. The Native American eyes him quizzically.

Rojo - Groeten. Wat is het u wil?

Native American - Een vriend! U spreekt het?

Rojo - Ja, spreek ik het.

The Spaniards shake their head, obviously having no clue of what is going on.

Native American - En wat van de mensen achter u? Wat weten zij?

Rojo - O, besteedt geen aandacht aan hen; zij zijn idioten.

Native American - En deze dwaas?

The Native American points to Columbus, still lying in the sand with his eye gouged out.

Rojo - Hij is enkel een pompeuze windzak. Wij namen hem slechts omdat de Koningin ons maakte het doen.

Native American - Koningin?

Rojo - Dat zou oude plop zijn die over de oceaan leeft. Niemand geeft een vloek over haar.

Native American - Ah. Nu, wat is hier uw zaken?

Rojo - Wij werden verteld om een magisch plaats genoemd te vinden India en te zien of konden wij het veroveren. De gekke dwazen.

Subordinate Spaniard - Well? Will they let us stay?

Rojo - Ah'm not fenesh'd yaet!

He turns back to the Native American.

Rojo - Kunnen deze dwazen voor de nacht blijven? Ik moet babyhen voor hun Mama over de oceaan zitten.

Native American - Natuurlijk. Zij zullen geen probleem, recht zijn?

Rojo - Nr, natuurlijk niet. Zij zijn kleine engelen.

The two share a laugh, then Rojo returns to the Spaniards.

Subordinate Spaniard - Well? How did it go?

Rojo - Zhey will laet ush shtay... indefinitely.

The Spaniards cheer, as Rojo gives the Native American a knowing smile.

Subordinate Spaniard - Bring our captain back to the ships and treat his wound. He was a fool if he thought he could do any good out here.

Two Spaniards lift Columbus from the dirt and hurridly carry him back onto the Santa Maria. The Subordinate Spaniard claps Rojo on the shoulder.

Subordinate Spaniard - Dearest Rojo, you have done well.

Rojo - Zhank you, Shir! Zhank you!

Subordinate Spaniard - Let us celebrate! We shall hold festivities tonight in honor of our hunchbacked friend, here, who has helped our country and our Queen (God save her) spread the light of Christendom to all nations! Bring out the ale!

The men cheer, and several of them head up to the ship to retrieve their rations of fine Spanish ale.

Subordinate Spaniard - You are a fine man to have around. Tell me, from what port do you hail?

Rojo - Wehl, ah--

Subordinate Spaniard - Oh, come now! Don't be shy!

Rojo - Ehrm... ah-- luk, Shir, zhe ale!

The Subordinate Spaniard turns to see the men present him with two huge kegs of ale. Grinning, he beckons to Rojo.

Subordinate Spaniard - You're the man of the hour, here; make your choice! Should we all have the crisped ale, or the plain ale?

Rojo - Zhe plain, zhe plain!

Subordinate Spaniard - Ha-ha! It's settled, then. Gather 'round, men, and let the festivities begin!

The men roar, the Subordinate Spaniard pops the cork off the keg, and the merriness begins. As it does so, the stage lights dim, and the narrator steps from the shadows.

Narrator - A merrier night they could not have had, but someone was missing when the last Spaniard slumped over, shloshed as the day he was born; a person of utmost significance to their cause.

The narrator moves to the side of the stage, as if to observe the proceedings. The men lie slumped in a heap, smelly and drunk. Out from the wings steps a hunchbacked figure pulling a small rowboat.

Subordinate Spaniard - (snore)

The hunchback stops, still as any statue. When the Subordinate Spaniard finally rolls over, the figure relaxes, and sets about on getting the boat into the water.

Rojo - (grunts)

After finally pushing the boat into the water, Rojo hops in and begins paddling out to open sea. For a moment, he pauses in the water. Then, as if to say goodbye, he flips up his eyepatch.

Rojo - Looked a damn sight nicer with both eyes.

Resuming his rowing, he tosses the patch into the sea. The narrator, apparently seeing this as his mark, walks back into the scene.

Narrator - The last hope for Spain had disappeared. When the morning arrived, this is what happened:

He walks offstage as the lights come back on. Yawning and groaning, the Spaniards are greeted by the sight of the Native Americans.

Native American #1 - U moet weggaan.

Subordinate Spaniard - Urgh... what's going on? Get that hunchback out, will you?

Native American #1 - Verlof, zei ik.

Subordinate Spaniard - Manuel, where is that hunchback?!

Manuel - Sir, I don't know!

Subordinate Spaniard - Well, find him!

Native American #2 - Nikii-Choa, zouden wij moeten ontspruiten?

Native American #1 - Nr! Rode zei zij zouden weggaan!

Manuel - Sir, how do we communicate with them?!

Subordinate Spaniard - I don't know! Just-- grab the trinkets! That will please them!

Native American #2 - Ik ontspruit NU!!!

Native American #1 - Nr, mijn zoon, niet--

The second Native American draws his bow.

Subordinate Spaniard - THEY'RE HOSTILE! RELEASE WEAPONS!!!

The Spaniards all draw their swords from their scabbards and charge.

Native American #2 - NIKII-CHOA!!!

Native American #1 - ZOON! MIJN ZOON!!!

There is a blinding flash of light. At this the stage is darkened, and the narrator comes back up.

Narrator - The beginning of Spanish colonization was devastating. Many lives were lost, both of Spaniards and Native Americans. There were heroes on both sides, yet evil was everywhere. However, there was one uptick: it did not take long before the rest of the world found out.

edit Scene iii

Narrator: Forward ourselves a hundred years to Captain John Smith (not to be confused with Joseph Smith), of the London Company.


under construction.

Personal tools
projects