Episode Four: The End of Mrs. Jones, part one

NARRATOR
Previously on “Three Rambunctious Writers”…

SHAKESPEARE
Some magic, the origin whereof I know not, didst force us, an ill-conceived triad of writers, to share an abode in early twenty-first century Portland, Oregon.

AUSTEN
Perhaps it is time we should investigate how we came here.

SHAKESPEARE
First there is more urgent business: we must crush Mistress Jones.

NARRATOR
And now … this week

The doorbell rings and Oscar Wilde answers it.

WILDE
Who would be so disgustingly organized as to call at this hour of the morning … Mrs. Jones! Have you come to helpfully inform us that the bulldozers are increasing their hours? Again?

JONES
What is the meaning of this?

She displays a piece of paper.

WILDE
My good woman, I feel your pain. The lot of the illiterate is truly a sad one. I will help you to decipher this paper.
(reads)
“Mrs Jones, your behaviour has been improper and discourteous. It is my sad duty to inform you that many of your neighbours have been greatly disturbed by your unseemly bulldozers. Pray cease your construction immediately or deeply unpleasant consequences will follow. Signed, a lady.”

MRS. JONES
This anonymous threat was left under my door this morning! Someone is out to kill me, and I suspect, Mr. Smith, that it is you!

WILDE
My dear Jones, not only is this letter signed “a lady,” it does not contain even one half of the scathing insults and brilliant wit that I would employ were I to write such a note. You cannot seriously entertain the idea of me as a suspect.

MRS. JONES
Then it was one of your vile housemates. You don’t care about community wellness and you always speak in old-time English!

WILDE
Jane—er, Jean Boston is far too sweet-tempered and retiring, and I cannot imagine Mr. Shaxper forgoing the pleasures of email for even one moment. No, I am convinced that the culprits are the Petersons down the street, the ones with the very loud dog. And now I must return to my important poetic work. Please do not call again at such an early hour!

MRS. JONES
It’s two in the afternoon.

WILDE
(blankly)
It’s Saturday.

MRS. JONES
Very well—but I will catch this saboteur!

NARRATOR
Later that afternoon.

Shakespeare enters the kitchen.

SHAKESPEARE
Ah, what fair and beautious weather. The loud bulldozers doth but slightly overwhelm the sweet melodies of birds. Good morrow, Jane, Oscar.

WILDE
Morning.

AUSTEN
I will not remark upon your slothfulness, but I must remind you that it is in fact afternoon! I arose at seven o’clock this morning!

WILDE
Really? In what manner were you employed?

AUSTEN
If you must know, Mr. Wilde, I was writing—a pursuit which you yourself seem to but rarely engage in.

WILDE
Writing … this?

He dramatically slams Mrs. Jones’s note down on the table.

SHAKESPEARE
Forsooth, sweet Jane, these words be in thy hand!

AUSTEN
Yes, I will admit to it! I wrote a threatening note to Mrs. Jones! These bulldozers are driving me to distraction. I have become short-tempered and irritable and I cannot pour a simple cup of tea without it rattling out of the saucer. You, gentlemen, seemed otherwise occupied with going to parties and acquiring comments on your blog, so someone had to take drastic measures. If a vaguely threatening note is what it takes, then so be it!

SHAKESPEARE
Certes, we needs must take action! My reason doth lead me to suspect that mayhap the downfall of Jones is too much for even a threatening note to accomplish. Satire, as you know, hath failed us most bitterly, but we can still use our prodigious poetical talents to aid us.

WILDE
We wait with baited breath to hear your brilliant plan, Will.

SHAKESPEARE
We will subvert our God-given talents to the service of propaganda and persuade the drivers of the bulldozers to mutiny!

AUSTEN
Could we not simply move house?

SHAKESPEARE
No. Thou hast a most important task—thou shalt distract Mrs. Jones with conversation while we make a stirring speech to the bulldozers.

WILDE
Might I join Jane in the distraction instead of standing in the swamp-like yard to deliver propaganda?

SHAKESPEARE
No. If my magnificent rhetoric doth fail, then thy paradoxical aphorisms will confuse the bulldozers so that they will be like unto zombies in the face of our persuasion.

AUSTEN
Might Mr. Wilde and I order you around for a change tomorrow, Mr. Shakespeare?

SHAKESPEARE
No. Now, let us away! There is still enough daylight for our glorious triumph to occur!

Outside Mrs. Jones’s house. Jane rings the doorbell, and the door opens.

MRS. JONES
You! What do you want?

AUSTEN
I simply came to call, Mrs. Jones! I assure you, I can come back another time.

MRS. JONES
You didn’t come to complain about the bulldozers? You came to be friendly? Really?

AUSTEN
It is only common politeness to call on one’s neighbours. Why do you find my presense so excessively suprising?

MRS. JONES
Oh, because everyone hates me! I have no friends! Please, Jean, come in!

AUSTEN
(guilty)
Certainly.

MRS. JONES
Can I get you something? Lemonade?

AUSTEN
Tea will be fine, thank you.

MRS JONES
Oh! I’m sorry! I don’t have any tea!

AUSTEN
Mrs. Jones! Calm yourself! This is no great problem; I will drink lemonade.

MRS JONES
Thank you!

AUSTEN
No, thank you.

MRS JONES
But what’s that I see out the window? It seems that the bulldozer drivers are leaving their machines and gathering in a circle.

Jane hastily closes the blinds.

AUSTEN
Please cease looking out the window! Have you not heard that sunlight causes cancer? Now, let us talk. Are you a great reader?

MRS. JONES
No, I don’t like to read much. I read magazines, you know, and the odd bestseller.

AUSTEN
Indeed.

MRS JONES
And Jane Austen, of course. I’ve read all her books. I love them so much. They are my consolation in times of great stress.

AUSTEN
Indeed!

MRS JONES
If I could only meet her! I’m sure she could help me so much with my emotional problems. Her books always end with such happy marriages; I’m sure her own romantic and emotional life must have been absolutely wonderful!

AUSTEN
(Bitter)
One would think so, wouldn’t one?

MRS JONES
My favourite is Pride and Prejudice. It’s so romantic!

AUSTEN
Thank you.

MRS JONES
Beg pardon?

AUSTEN
I said “It is my belief that, while of course amazingly well-written, the novels of Jane Austen are no adequate guide to life in the twenty-first century!”

MRS JONES
It sounded shorter than that

AUSTEN
Aye, they are no preparation for being suddenly thrust forward through time without being warned, for the sudden knowledge that everyone one knew is dead, for being forced to live in a house with people who, despite their literary talents, are lunatics and either unattractive or unsuited for matrimony! They are no preparation for being abruptly told that one may be being manipulated by a global conspiracy! They are no preparation for even the frightening existence of electrical chamber pots!

MRS JONES
Well, I wouldn’t really expect all that of a light romance.

NARRATOR
Meanwhile…

The backyard. Shakespeare and Wilde are talking to Bob the bulldozer driver.

SHAKESPEARE
Good Bob, surely thou hast thought that mayhap thou art not suited to the harsh labour of bulldozer driving. Wouldst not rather cease thy work and rebel against the meddling Jones?

WILDE
I find relaxation far too much work by itself to even consider driving a bulldozer as well. Do you truly enjoy driving this ungainly machine, or do you only do it for some silly reason like money?

SHAKESPEARE
But, by Jove, there are other career options available! Thou might do much for thy bread other than drive a bulldozer.

WILDE
For example, Will and I are both in the highly lucrative and well-paying career of writing! You, too, can make millions at writing! And there are marvelous perks.

SHAKESPEARE
Oh, aye, become a poet! Mayhap it doth not pay as well as thou doth misleadingly suggest, Oscar, but what matters gold when thou hast a higher calling! I myself am widely considered to be the greatest writer in the history of the English language, and I consider that worth more than any filthy lucre made by bulldozing.

WILDE
Yes, a good review is more beautiful than the loveliest flower on Earth. Not, of course, that a true artist cares about the vile opinions of critics.

SHAKESPEARE
Forsooth, I care nothing of what people say of my work, for I doth know its true poetic brilliance, and the world hath enough groundlings to buy the tickets.

WILDE
That, Bob, is another secret of being a writer. The more people hate you, the more tickets get sold to your plays.

SHAKESPEARE
As long as thou art entertaining, Sweet Bob! Thou canst not forget that. All the world doth love a good pun—“nothing” doth be “better”, if you get my meaning. Hm?

WILDE
Will, the bulldozer driver does not understand Elizabethan innuendo. We’ve told you a dozen times—

SHAKESPEARE
But see, he hath laughed! Already, Master Bob, thou art intimidated by my reputation enough to laugh when thou understandeth not my meaning. But I will give away no more secrets of the profession before I doth hear a word of assent from Bob. Good Bob, wilt thou become a poet?

NARRATOR
And now… a cliffhanger! Will Jane reveal her secret identity to Mrs. Jones? Will the bulldozers finally go away? Will Bob become a poet? Tune in next week to find out!