This Play Went off Without a Hitch

     ~x~

     Sally: Hello everyone, and welcome to another behind-the-scenes look at Neopia’s up-and-coming performing arts. I’m your host, Sally. Join me on an expedition through The Fall, a gripping tale of action, adventure, betrayal and yes—even romance. Let’s first check in with the props department as they give us an intimate look at the many sets and scenes that make Faerieland come to life on stage.

     I pushed back a thick black curtain as I walked into a dimly lit room with a disorganized mixture of set pieces, props, wigs, paper goods, and a surprising amount of glitter. There, a frazzled middle-aged red Tuskaninny prop master sat hastily glueing together what looked like a lance.

     Sally: I was wondering if I can hear a little more about The Fall and your progress on designing state-of-the-state props for this play.

     Prop Master (PM): He laughs maniacally State of the art? With what budget? We’re funded by donations!

     Sally: Oh. I cough uncomfortably. What are you using to build your props, then?

     PM: Anything we have around. Painted paper towel rolls, scraps of fabric, old junk from the dorms or homes of our actors and volunteers, and a whole lot of thrifting. You’d be amazed how much of the costume department comes from thrift stores. We have a seamster who alters the scraps and oversized clothes to make it work for the actors. I swear, he’s literally got magical paws.

     Next to the Prop Master is a stack of cardboard and foam-based armour with holes in it, a dented helmet, and a mirror-like prop covered in reflective paper and an enormous sum of glitter. When he picked up the mirror-like prop, one of the edges popped off. He sighed as he lifted his now glitter-caked paw, shook it out, and sent a drizzle of sparkling specks fluttering to the ground.

     PM: These actors are way too rough with the props. They simply can’t take the abuse they put them through. His gaze travels to the glitter-covered ground. And this stuff will survive the end times. No matter where I look, glitter surrounds me. I could be working on a completely different play—one without this accursed sparkle dust—and it follows me. Follows me, I say!

     One of his assistants peaked her head in. She was painting a large set piece set in the Haunted Woods. Dark, foreboding trees reached out towards us from backstage.

     Assistant: Finished painting the set!

     PM: It looks great, Barb! His eyes flick towards the paint bucket in her paw. Uhh, Barb. Did you use that paint for the entire forest? Like, all of the trees?

     Assistant Barb: Why, yes! I did. Doesn’t it look great?

     PM: He burrows his face in his hands. That paint glows in the dark.

     Assistant Barb: Oh. Whoops. That explains why it was in the discount bin…

     ~x~

     It has been assured to me that all of the actors will be fully costumed, with detailed pieces that reflect their respective homelands.

     Sally: I was wondering if you all can give me a short description of your costumes and their inspiration.

     James (Hanso’s actor): Inspiration? They’re calling this ski parka an accurate replica of Hanso’s thief jacket. Who does that?

     Tom (Nox): I actually rather like my costume; it looks delightfully sinister. I’m guessing the costume guy found all this stuff at a thrift store, though—it smells like mothballs.

     Heather (Brynn): At least you’re not wearing a painted sheet as a Brightvale guard uniform.

     Briant (King Altador): Or a cardboard suit of armour…

     Clara (Queen Fyora): How about a butterfly-winged faerie… because that’s what I look like.

     Terry (King Jazan’s actor): Look at this thing they’re calling a robe. We’ll be laughed off the stage like this…

     Suzy (Xandra’s actress): At least they got the glasses right? And I guess the patchwork dress is okay, too? But I really think, as Xandra, there should be some pyrotechnics in the play. Maybe even when I first announce my evil intentions! Come on, guys. Let’s fire off some pyrotechnics in the theater!

     ~x~

     Part-way into the rehearsal process, an unknown fan—who asked not to be named—snuck their way backstage. They cloaked all but their nose and golden eyes, but appeared to be a blue Ixi wearing a high-collared jacket.

     Sally: You’re a big Hanso fan?

     Fan: Oh, the biggest. His charisma, his charm, his roguish good looks. He saved the day almost single-handedly from Xandra with some help from Brynn, King Altador, and maybe some nudges in the right direction from that King Jazan fellow.

     Sally: Is that so?

     Fan: Yeah. As soon as I found out these guys were doing a play about Brynn and I—I mean, about the fall of Faerieland, I knew I’d be needed.

     This fan immediately sought out James and gave him some well-intended pointers for his performance. They also left a crisp, newly purchased jacket in his paws, much to the apparent shock of the actor.

     Fan: Before you ask, I didn’t steal this. Anyway, as a big fan of Hanso, I wanted to make sure you’re representing him well. In their paws is a copy of the script. So, I was thinking, for this line here and this line here that you add a bit of roguish charm, if you know what I mean. Up the snark, embrace your inner thief.

     James: You mean the part when I troll Xandra right before I stab the artefact?

     Fan: Exactly. I can suggest some great insults to throw at her, enough to fill a plot comic.

     James: Uhh, I’ll consider the feedback. He squeezes the brand-new jacket. How do you know so much about Hanso, anyway?

     Fan: Call it intuition. They wink. And here’s my calling card if you ever want any pointers.

     James: He reads the card and gasps. You’re--

     Fan: Their gloved paw covers over James’ mouth. Shh, that’s a trade secret.

     ~x~

     In order to keep the crew energized, they’ve asked for a nightly caffeine delivery. One of the most dedicated volunteers, a yellow Kau named Ricky, has been a great source of relief for the tired actors. A sip of coffee, so I’ve been told, and they’re ready to roll.

     Ricky: I may have mixed up the orders this time. When the barista said they’d be making a special batch, I had no idea they were making a tray full of espresso shots. The actors were sprinting around the stage, delivering their lines at warp speed, and one of them claims that she can hear the colour four. Oops. Probably best that the culprit—me—is left unknown.

     Sally: We’re recording this for the Neopian Times. Do you want this to be off-the-record?

     Ricky: You are? Shoot. No, no, keep it in. I suppose they deserve to know why the crew is going bananas today.

     ~x~

     I’ve been assured that the actors guild is one big, happy family and that they work together to create the best results. I asked an actor what the stage life is like.

     Sally: Would you say the crew is like a second family?

     Actor (they’ve asked to be left anonymous): In that they squabble over petty things? Yeah. One of the actors was given a minor role but they claim that they should’ve been Brynn. Just because you’re a Kougra does not mean you’re the perfect Brynn, Abigail. And they keep on messing up their lines and the timing to throw everyone off. It’s getting frustrating. Then there was that one guy who quit after being told he’d have to work with a student who “annoyed him.” And Terry—the guy playing King Jazan—rarely shows up for practice unless they’re specifically practicing his parts. But like, some of us get along. I try to gravitate towards the drama-free actors. Sometimes we’ll go out to local restaurants and order food from there.

     Sally: Not the BVU dining hall?

     Actor: Gosh, no. We’d lose the entire crew. We already had one student go on leave after they ate the “mystery meat sandwich.” Nobody—

     Sally: Knows what’s in that thing?

     Actor: Yeah, exactly.

     ~x~

     The Director filled me in on some of her vision for The Fall. A jolly, enthusiastic yellow Wocky, the Director is brimming with radiant positive energy. When asked where her assistant director was, she merely shrugged and said, “who needs one of those? Not I, Director extraordinaire!”

     Director: Everything is going wonderfully! The actors are so talented. They capture their characters perfectly. Nothing could possibly go wrong!

     Meanwhile…

     Heather (Brynn): She is flailing. Everything is going wrong!

     Suzy (Xandra): How was I to know pyrotechnics were a bad id—EEP!

     Briant (King Altador): Suzy, your clothes are on fire!

     Suzy: Oh my gosh! Put it out, put it out! She rolls on the ground while her castmates try to smother the fire with a pile of props. Some of these also catch on fire.

     James (Hanso): I got a bucket of water! He dumps it on her. She blows away a strand of green wig that had attached itself to her face.

     Suzy: Well, it was a nice costume, anyway.

     James: At least you’re not on fire anymore?

     The prop master scrambled out from behind the curtain shortly after the fire alarm went off. He looked utterly dejected.

     Prop Master: Everything is fine. We’ll just… make new props. And the seamster will make a new costume. It’s not like the dress rehearsal is in two weeks or anything. Ahahaha. Haha! He madly parades down the hallway towards the prop room, his maniacal laughter rising to a fever pitch. The door then slams, but his laughter can clearly be heard throughout the auditorium. HAHAHAHA!

     The crew is in shocked silence as the cacophony continued for minutes on end. No one else dared to make a sound.

     ~x~

     Surprise of surprises! I just heard word that Queen Fyora herself will be sitting in on the dress rehearsal. We checked in with the crew to hear all about their excitement.

     Director: Isn’t this wonderful? What a great opportunity!

     Sally: Yeah! I bet the crew will be thrilled to have such a high-profile guest coming to our college theater.

     Director: This experience will elevate our small but mighty theater troupe to new heights! This is going to be awesome.

     Meanwhile, the cast members are literally screaming in the background with their arms raised over their heads. Suzy is shaking James, her eyes full of tears.

     Suzy (Xandra): This is going to be awful! She can’t see the play like this. It’ll be a disaster!

     James (Hanso): I caAAAAaaaAAn’t dooOOoooOOOooo this!

     Tom (Nox): Oh gosh. What if I mess up my lines in front of her?!

     Clara (Queen Fyora): She’s gonna poof me into oblivion!

     Briant (King Altador): Queen Fyora is good! She wouldn’t zap you into a pile of dust!

     Clara: You think she’s gonna zap me into dust?!

     Briant: No, no! That’s the opposite of what I just said!

     Clara: She’s in hysterics. She’s gonna ban me from Faerieland! Permanently!

     Terry: Walks in nonchalantly. Sits down, sips his coffee. I’m here for practice. What did I miss?

     ~x~

     Days passed and the crew pulled all-nighters to prepare themselves for the dress rehearsal. Brynn’s and Hanso’s actors were holding the artefact while Xandra’s actress (with newly patched-up costume) raised her paws to the sky.

     Suzy (Xandra): She’s wobbling. Her eyes have dark bags under them. I need you two… you two to hold this… for me.

     Heather (Brynn): We’re supposed to be… she yawns broadly protecting you.

     Suzy: The others are doing her voice trails off as she fights falling asleep on stage a fine job. I need my hands free… to do the spell thingy… so make yourself useful.

     Heather: Hold it… hold it higher, Hanso!

     James (Hanso): A giant cup of coffee sits 10 feet away, a warm plume of steam still rising from the cup. He’s shaking, but rubs his eyelids out of habit, coating them with glitter. H-h-hey, this thing is h-h-heavier than it l-looks.

     Suzy: Good. Now whatever you do… don’t… move. She begins to snore on stage before toppling over and is caught by Heather.

     Sally: Do y’all need some help?

     Heather: Yawns again. I think we need a couple beds backstage. GOOD NIGHT, mr coconut.

     Sally: It’s… Sally.

     Heather: Oh. Right. Good night, Sally.

     ~x~

     The day of the dress rehearsal, a large chunk of the crew slept. After resting a good 15 hours, most of the crew was in decent enough shape to perform. When it came time for Queen Fyora to arrive, she was escorted by one of her servants, a Gelert named Celandra, and by Captain of the Guard, Brynn. The actors performed well under pressure, and the prop master worked his magic to “up the ante” on the prop quality through increased donations, tireless effort from volunteers, and him screaming the word “MEEPITS!” from backstage every time something needed to be re-fixed. The seamster also worked for days without end, causing him to fall asleep on his desk more than once.

     Everything went fine until Clara (Queen Fyora) came onto the stage. Shaking from excitement (or so I’ve been told), the actress took the stage and immediately tripped on the uneven wasteland set. She fell to the ground with a loud thud as she gripped her ankle in anguish. Tears streamed down her face.

     Not missing a beat, Queen Fyora stood up from her seat and raced to the actress’ side. The rest of the crew gawked from afar except Terry, who knew first-aid. When they realized that the Queen was quickly approaching, the actors made an awkward attempt at a bow. She responded by bringing up her hand and saying, “no need for such formalities,” much to the surprise of the students.

     Sally: Are you okay?!

     Clara: No. No, I don’t think I am. She grits her teeth. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Queen Fyora. P-please don’t zap me, Your Majesty!

     Queen Fyora and Brynn, the latter of whom followed quickly behind, traded a look.

     Queen Fyora: You did well, dear. Rest now and recover. I can do what I can to—

     Clara: I’ll be okay, Your Majesty. But um, thank you.

     Terry gently touched her ankle causing her to yelp in pain.

     Terry: Can you move it at all? She shakes her head. I’m going to bandage it the best I can for now, but… you’re going to need to go to a hospital to get it x-rayed.

     Clara: O-okay.

     Brynn: Do you have an understudy?

     Clara: N-no. It’s just me.

     Brynn: Brynn turns to Terry. I’ll carry her to a carriage. Will you be okay on your own, Your Majesty?

     Queen Fyora: Of course, Brynn. Thank you for your concern.

     Brynn saluted in response.

     The Director, who had been quietly staring on in shock, shook her head as if zapped by a spark. With an obvious fear for her actor’s safety, she rushed to the injured student’s side. Meanwhile, Brynn lifted Clara onto her back and piggybacked her outside.

     Director: My play, my beautiful play! Who shall replace Queen Fyora on such notice? We’re doomed. Doomed, I say!

     Queen Fyora: I could stand in for your student.

     A collective gasp rose from the room.

     Celandra: I-is that a good idea, Your Majesty?

     Queen Fyora: I was there. If need be, I ad-lib.

     Director: Oh, thank you! Truly you are as magnanimous as they say! She runs in to hug the Queen, but is stopped by her servant.

     Celandra: Please, don’t touch the Queen.

     The Queen sighed as she gently waved her servant back, but the Director fiddled sheepishly after the public display, so she offered her hand to shake instead. This the Director gladly reciprocated.

     Director: Right, right. Got a bit carried away there. She jumps into the air. The play is saved, whoopee!

     ~x~

     Evidently, Queen Fyora was quite the Thespian. I asked her and some of the other cast members about their experience.

     Queen Fyora: I have to admit, this is something of a childhood dream of mine, being on stage. It’s very fun and the cast is full of such talented young Neopians. She smiles.

     When I approached the cast, they asked that I talk to them backstage and anonymously.

     Neopian 1: I have to admit. It’s cool to have the literal Queen of the Faeries on stage with us, but she um… she’s kind of robotic.

     Neopian 2: Kind of robotic? Her acting is as stiff as a board. I mean, it was really nice of her to join in at the last minute, she projects well, and her ad-lib is pretty good, but uh, you know…

     Neopian 1: Hopefully, the audience will be too transfixed at her presence to even notice her dry delivery.

     Neopian 3: You should have seen James’ reaction when he heard Fyora would be his co-star. He was so flustered to be standing next to someone famous that he forgot his lines. Twice.

     While we were speaking, Queen Fyora poked her head behind the black curtains.

     Queen Fyora: Good evening, fellow thespians. I was wondering if we might practice that part with Hanso again?

     The three Neopians being questioned immediately froze.

     James nervously bounced up and down from behind, mouthing, “it’s Queen Fyora, oh my gosh!” while pointing towards her excitedly. A few students nodded while another simply facepalmed.

     Meanwhile, Celandra was giving a pep talk to some of the other actors, encouraging them to do their best. She had bought some lemonade from a local eatery for the crew to cheer everyone up.

     ~x~

     At last, the night of the grand performance! The cast was prepared, excited, and ready to go.

     Heather (Brynn): We are not prepared, excited, and ready to go. Where in Neopia is Terry?!

     Briant (King Altador): You mean he’s not backstage? Where could he be?!

     Suzy (Xandra): I mean, who else could play him if he doesn’t show?

     James (Hanso): Maybe I could play King Jazan and Hanso? You know, at the same time. We could pitch it like a comedy?

     Suzy: As a last resort. Okay, plan B. Uhhh, how about Barb?

     Barb (Prop Master Assistant): Someone call my name?

     Suzy: How’d you like to be King Jazan?

     Barb: Wait, what?!

     Heather: I mean, I guess she’d fit the costume well. Maybe you could, uhh, stand around with the others and ad-lib?

     Barb: You mean with all of those Neopians watching?! She begins to hyperventilate.

     Fyora: She offers a hug to the student, who gratefully accepts. I’ve met with King Jazan before as he’s Head of State in Qasala. If it helps, I would be happy to provide some pointers, Barb?

     Barb: Your offer is k-kind, Your Highness, but I’m d-deathly afraid of performing. That’s w-why I’m b-b-backstage!

     Suzy: Oof, never mind, Barb. Sorry for pressuring you. We’ll just… skip King Jazan’s part, then. Maybe no one will notice?

     James: Have you met the Jazan fan club? There’ll be pandemonium! Shouting in the square! We might even have a revolution on our hands!

     Suzy: Right. Right, okay. So, what do we do?

     Just then, Terry walked in, chugging a large bottle of soda. When the rest of the crew stopped what they were doing to stare at him, he raised a brow.

     Terry: Yo, everyone. What’s up?

     Suzy: Yo?! Is that all you can say?

     Queen Fyora: Dear me, you certainly drink a lot of soda.

     Terry: Sure do, your Highness. It’s my lifeblood.

     Heather: Dude. It’s 6:30pmNST. Where were you?

     Terry: I mean, the play starts at 7pmNST. We got like, 30 minutes until showtime! It’s all good.

     ~x~

      The curtains rose and the play began. The cast and crew acted their hearts out to the delight of the audience. There was laughter from the antics of Hanso, tears at the untimely death of Nox, gasps from the sudden reveal of Xandra (instead of fireworks, they decided to use some sparklers. Thankfully none of the curtains caught fire). And when Hanso made his heroic sacrifice, there was a particularly rambunctious fan in the audience who clapped and called the actor out by his name. The Neopian next to him, Brynn, made sure to quiet her next-door neighbour promptly.

     All eyes were on Queen Fyora when she stepped on stage. A collective gasp settled around the room as Neopians stared in awe and amazement at the Queen. She delivered her lines with gusto, at a volume so loud that Neopians in the front row had to cover their ears. When it was time for the crew to take their bows, the audience stood up with raucous applause, whoops, and hollers. All except for a well-known contrarian of the arts, Fabio von Shmoobenduffle, who stormed out of the play in a huff.

     When asked about their thoughts on the play, Dr. Corvus, BVU Biology professor, had this to say: “the students performed with such energy. It was obvious, to me, that they were well-rehearsed, confident, and enjoyed the material that they were presenting. I’m really impressed!”

     The mysterious fan approached me once again, this time with Brynn in tow.

     Fan: I especially enjoyed Hanso’s performance. That James fellow, he’s going places. And the insults he threw at Xandra were absolutely hilarious. Even better than some of the ones I—I mean, Hanso made! And Brynn’s actress did a great job, too. You could really feel the tension between the two real protagonists.

     Brynn: Hanso, did you have something to do with the script changes? Please don’t tell me you snuck backstage to give one of the students ideas…

     Fan: He feigns shock. I take offense at that. Me? Tainting the minds of the youth? Forsooth, Brynn.

     In response, she rolled her eyes.

     Upon noticing that I was conducting interviews, I was approached by a particularly tall and muscular Neopian wearing a three-piece suit and petpet-sized bowler hat. When I first spoke to them, I noticed, to my surprise, that he had a small Meepit head standing atop an otherwise gargantuan body.

     Sally: H-how might I address you for the “Golden Quill?”

     The small maw echoed in earth-shaking baritone.

     Mysterious Neopian: You may call me… Junior Number 23.

     Sally: O…kay. What were your thoughts on the play?

     Junior Number 23: I was profoundly moved by such a work of beauty. Art! Reenactment of HISTORY! He pauses awkwardly. That is all. I bid you adieu and thank you for your time.

     As he left, the ground continued to quake around him.

     Sally: I have no idea what just happened.

     A friendly spotted Gelert wandered in front of me, a Master’s student named Norbert, so I asked him his opinion of the play. He smiled pleasantly and happily obliged.

     Norbert: As a student of history, I often worry that an artistic representation such as this will lose some of the historical accuracy. But this play—or at least, the second act of the play—was pretty spot on.

     Sally: Second act? Were you not there for the entire play?

     Norbert: No, sadly. I got lost for a solid hour first, including a fascinating wander through a petpet behavioural lab. He pauses. Speaking of, where are the dorm halls? I should probably get back to my thesis. It's about Sir Rohane, 'Hero of Five Lands.'

     After laying out a detailed description of the campus for the directionally challenged student, I ran into one other Neopian, a recent graduate named Melody Harvester who had a glowing review of play.

     Melody: Such a thrilling and energetic retelling of the story. I loved the way they showed the Nox Castle escape. And oh gosh, the crash of Faerieland was chilling. And the play’s climax? Absolutely superb. It was more than obvious to me the students were organized and prepared. Behind-the-scenes must have been a well-oiled machine. I can tell you, objectively, that this play went off without a hitch!

     Sally: Sounds like a title drop to me!

     ~x~

     There you have it, folks. “This play went off without a hitch,” at least as far as the audience was concerned. A faithful and detailed look at Faerieland before, during, and after the fall.

     Keep an eye out for more up-and-coming plays this side of Neopia.

     The End.