Scene: backstage
Enter JC
JC:
Behold me in my raiment fit to Pop
A painted peacock, gorgeous, lithe and fine,
Thusly bedecked to wriggle for the crowd.
But where are my companions of the stage?
Such laggards all.
Enter Anthony, looking at his watch.
JC:
Ho, Anthony! Is't time?
Anthony:
A moment yet, ere I must like the lion
Roar out my rage at late-come singers four.
Enter Lance
JC:
Here's one. 'Tis Lance, whose beauty like the sun
Doth flame in shining yellow. Lance, what gives?
Is there some problem in the quiet room?
Anthony:
Those troublemakers better be here soon.
Lance:
Hail, Anthony. No, JC, naught's amiss
Except that Chris yet struggles with his pants
And Joey on the telephone is trapp'd
A-babbling to his infant daughter Bri,
While Justin by the mirror's lure is caught,
Preening and primping for the crowd's delight.
Enter Justin.
Justin:
What, Lance! Such calumnies as you do prate.
Behold me, buff and perfect, near divine,
I, like the trembling racehorse at the gate,
Chafed by restraining leash, am good to go,
To strut upon the spotlit stage and sing,
Most eager to bring ecstasy to all.
And are we in good voice, my dearest friends?
JC:
Yea!
Lance:
Sure.
Justin:
Roll not your eyes, I do beseech!
Our music is a matter most substantial
To which we dedicate our best endeavour.
Here's Chris at last, and Joey in his train.
Enter Chris and Joey
Anthony:
'Bout time.
Chris:
Behold us! Where's the hackey-sack?
We must with prompt dispatch and little flaw
Our superstitious ritual execute
Lest ill-luck dog with error this our show.
Lance:
I have it here. All ready? Let's commence.
JC:
Oh, dear.
Joey:
No matter, we can start again.
Justin:
As often as we need to make it so.
We cannot take the stage with hackey dropp't
Oh, curse it.
Lance:
Pray be quiet and concentrate!
For Anthony will flog us if we're late.
Chris:
Our hackey's done! Praise God! Now let's embrace,
A moment's peace before the fearful shrieks
Of teenage worship overwhelm our minds,
Their lusty pleas like maenads i' the chase,
Relentless as the ocean waves that crash
Upon the pliant shore—
Anthony:
Enough of that!
Scant thirty seconds yet remain, and I
Determined am that you at once shall go
And never, never dare delay the show.
Exeunt sparkly ones, pursued by Anthony