The Great (or at least amusing to me) Fables Radio Play

Which was performed, once only, at the Great Fables Wake, which occurred in August 14 through 16, 2015, in Austin, Texas, at the lovely (and always well-stocked) Austin Books and Comics.

Our Not Ready for Story Time Players: From left to right in the back (standing) row are: Nicole Thomte; Dave Justus; and Lilah Sturges. Seated in the front row: Adam Harrington (partly obscured); Brad Thomte; Jess Nevins; Mark Finn; Shelly Bond; and Megan Sloane. Standing in front is Bill Willingham.

We Begin

In a curious addendum to my publishing deal with DC Comics, and the separate Media Rights deal that followed, I retained all rights to do stage plays and/or radio plays based upon Fables. It’s the one area in which DC, or its minions, can make no changes, allow no mischaracterizations of Fables stories or characters (which they have the right to do with the books they publish, or with licensed media — a video game for instance) or in any way wrest control of the story from me.

The one time (so far) I took advantage of this hold-back (an agent’s term for something not signed over to some other entity in a contract) was at the Great Fables Wake, which marked the end of Fables monthly publication (at the time).

Here then, for your entertainment, enlightenment, and amusement, is the script for the play exactly (except for some minor formatting things Substack refuses to allow) as it was performed that day, including the outrageous price Willingham charged for printed copies of the script at the Wake:

Another Wednesday Morning in the Business Office

An Original Fables Radio Play

By Bill Willingham

Performed for the first time live at the Great Fables Wake, Austin Texas, August 14, by the Not Ready for Story Time Players

Price: $10

Limited to 40 copies

Characters (listed in alphabetical order, by character name):

Bigby: will be played by Adam Harrington

Bluebeard: will be played by Brad Thomte

Boy Blue: will be played by Jess Nevins

Bufkin: will be played by Mark Finn

Cinderella: will be played by Shelly Bond

Flycatcher: will be played by Dave Justus

Frau Totenkinder: will be played by Nicole Thomte

King Cole: will be played by Matt Sturges

Snow White: will be played by Megan Sloane¹

Narration: will be provided by Bill Willingham

(Enter: Narrator.)

Narrator: Good evening and welcome, dear friends. Imagine, if you will, that this is not the rough and most temporary clearing eked out amongst the voluminous books and tombs of this esteemed merchant establishment, but instead a great and airy office, magical in its character, littered by all manner of miraculous artifact. Picture, in your mind’s eye, a ship floating in the lofty heights above us, circling serene and silent. A great and mythical tree looms in the distance, brooding with dark judgment. A figure in rusty mail hangs from its limbs. Passageways lead off in many directions, leading to hidden chambers and perhaps even other realms. And books – oh the books, uncountable in their number. They reside in shelves that line walls, stretching up, up, up into the misty heights. Enough books to rival the legend of lost Alexandria, or even… well… this place.

Narrator: This then is the fabled Business Office, wherein the entirety of our story will take place. Only fitting then that our humble scene is called Another Wednesday Morning in the Business Office.

Narrator: Our players now take the stage. They are… (Introduce cast. Each player takes the stage as he’s introduced.)

Narrator: Harken then. Our story takes place in the days between the time A Wolf Among Us has concluded its exciting and dangerous events, and the first issue of Fables has opened its inaugural pages.

(When we begin, several conversations are taking place. We’ll visit them one at a time, but visually indicate that these idle, pre-meeting chats might be occurring simultaneously. Boy Blue is talking to Bufkin. Snow is talking to Flycatcher, while Bluebeard is talking to Frau Totenkinder.)

Boy Blue: Quit it, Bufkin.

Bufkin (Note that he’s been drinking, just enough to slightly slur his speech): Quit what?

Boy Blue: Flinching away from me. I need to smell your breath.

Bufkin: Why? What fresh perversion would inspire you to want to…

Boy Blue: To see if you’ve been drinking. In fact I can tell you have been – after you solemnly promised Snow last week you wouldn’t drink again.

Bufkin: I promise I kept, Mr. High On Your High Horse, Know-it-all!

Boy Blue: Evidence suggests otherwise.

Bufkin: I promised never to drink again – emphasis on again. However, I’ve been continuously drinking since Snow caught me last time. Therefore it can’t possibly be again, it can only count as still. And I never promised to stop drinking still, only ever again. Any courtroom in the realm will bear me up on this.

Boy Blue: A continuous session, since last week? Without a break, or sleep?

Bufkin: Sleep is for the weak and feeble.

Boy Blue: I see. Good luck with that plan then. But know this – I catch you at one nap and your binge is over. Your binding oath kicks in.

Bufkin: Not if my invention works.

Boy Blue: What invention might that be?

Bufkin: A device to keep lightly misting my open pie hole with booze while I sleep. Genius in its simplicity, you’ll have to admit. Once my Naptender 2000 (patent pending) is deployed I can snooze all I want and the drinking session still counts as a continuation of the one previous.

Boy Blue: Bufkin, you can’t possibly expect…

Bufkin: Lawyered, kiddo!

(Now we move our attention to the chat between Bluebeard and Totenkinder, also in progress.)

Bluebeard: Isn’t there a way just to kill The Adversary from afar? Magically?

Totenkinder: Do you have any particular Adversary in mind? Have you identified who he might be then? Do you know where he dwells?

Bluebeard: Not yet. But can’t you craft a spell for that too? First find him and then kill him in his sleep.

Totenkinder: And all his heirs, to keep someone from simply stepping into his vacant place?

Bluebeard: Sure.

Totenkinder: And his officer corps too, since military ambitions do so easily transform into political ones. Just the top ranking generals should do, and there can’t be more than a few thousand of those, spread out over so many conquered worlds. My how the time and effort and expense keeps adding up. If my entire circle of colleagues started today and worked on nothing else, we might be ready with enough spells in… oh, a century or two.

Bluebeard: Fine. I take your meaning, but…

Totenkinder: Yes?

Bluebeard: I just wish you could kill the bastard, whoever he might be.

Totenkinder: Perhaps I could. Almost anything one can imagine can be done.

Bluebeard: So then?

Totenkinder: Everything that can be done can also be botched in the doing. A spell of killing can collide with a spell of protection, and then…

Bluebeard: So then you try again, until it works.

Totenkinder: But in the meantime you’ve alerted the target – one who’s expressed no interest in us for centuries. Why poke a sleeping bear, Mr. Bluebeard?

(And finally we switch our attention to an ongoing conversation between Snow White and Flycatcher.)

Snow: My point is simple. You’re our janitor. It’s your job to keep this room clean.

Flycatcher: I know that, Miss White. I’m not trying to make excuses, but…

Snow: He’s supposed to be potty trained, or house trained, or whatever the correct term is when you’re talking about a monkey.

Flycatcher: It isn’t a problem with the other Animal Fables, because they’re at The Farm.

Snow: I wish I could send the filthy creature to The Farm, but he’s the only one who knows his own filing system. We’d effectively lose most of our books just because we couldn’t find them.

Flycatcher: But the poop…

Snow: The poop gets everywhere. Everywhere.

Flycatcher: Because he flings it, Miss White. He’s a really bad monkey. And his mouth – don’t get me started on how he cusses at me. I get so flustered at times I revert to… A tiny frog can’t handle a mop, Miss White.

Snow (resigned): I know. I know. And finding a princess to kiss you back into a useable form is no picnic – even in a place as crowded with princesses as Fabletown.

King Cole: Excuse me.

King Cole: Pardon me.

King Cole: Everyone is here. We can begin now.

(Everyone settles down to listen to King Cole.)

King Cole: Most of us have a busy day, so if we could move this along with some expedition? Good morning, everyone. I declare our weekly Wednesday morning security meeting begun. Present this morning are: Snow White, our deputy mayor; Boy Blue, her assistant; Bigby Wolf, our sheriff; Bluebeard, who’s been advising me on budget matters; Frau Totenkinder, who represents the 13th Floor group…

Totenkinder: Is this always necessary, Mr. Mayor? We’ve been doing this for years. Longer. We know who we are.

Bufkin: You always interrupt before he says my name.

King Cole: I think it’s important we do things in order…

Bufkin: I notice you wait until he says your name though.

Totenkinder: Mind yourself, worm.

Bufkin: You watch it, lady! I’m a monkey, not a worm!

Totenkinder: Wait five minutes…

King Cole: If we could move along – please. Also present are: Flycatcher, in charge of building maintenance and environmental control; Cinderella, representing the Merchants Association, and… let’s see… who...? Oh, and Grimble won’t be attending again, because we couldn’t wake him.

Cinderella: Typical.

King Cole: Have I missed anyone?

Snow: You missed yourself again, Your Honor.

King Cole: Oh yes, and me. There. All tidy for the minutes. Now, to begin with…

Bufkin: Wait! You didn’t say my name!

Snow: Well, to be technical, you aren’t a member of this committee.

Bufkin: Yes I am. I’m right here.

Snow: You’re present to take the official minutes, but you aren’t…

Bufkin: Say my name!

Snow: But…

Bufkin: Say it!

King Cole: Alright. Settle down. Fine, if it’ll make you happy and allow us be about our work. Also present is Bufkin, keeping the official minutes. Can we please get started now?

Bufkin: Who’s stopping you?

King Cole: Frau Totenkinder? Any magical threats or concerns you want to bring to our attention?

Totenkinder: None to speak of. The various gateways to other Fable worlds are quiet. No activity, and all still well hidden from the mundys. But some of the misdirection spells at The Farm need attention. Maintenance. A mundy local drove up the access road last week, within a hundred yards of their main gate.

Bluebeard: Spying?

Totenkinder: No, just lost. Weyland got him back on his way, none the wiser.

King Cole: If no harm was done we can revisit the item in our next budget meeting. Bigby? Do you have anything?

Bigby: A few things.

(A substantial pause, as everyone waits for Bigby to go on. Finally Cinderella speaks up.)

Cinderella: Well?

Bigby: Oh. Yes. Item one. Prince Charming is once again making a nuisance of himself in Europe.

Snow: Still trying to get recognized as a royal?

Bigby: Yes.

King Cole: Has he done anything to reveal his Fable nature?

Bigby: Not yet.

Cinderella: Honestly, Bigby, the way you blather on.

Bigby: He’s entirely self-interested. Doesn’t worry about Fabletown security. If he keeps acting up, he’ll step over the line sooner or later. One of us should go have a private word with him.

Bluebeard: Trying to get us to fund a European vacation, Wolf?

King Cole: We don’t really have the budget for a junket. Besides, you’re needed here.

Bigby: Not me. I don’t want to go. I thought Snow could…

Snow: Not a chance. I’ve had every conversation I ever want to have with that man.

Bluebeard: Besides, what good would it do? The man really is a self-impressed ass.

Cinderella: What would you suggest then?

Bluebeard: We assassinate him and all problems are solved.

King Cole: Now, I don’t think this sort of talk is helpful.

Cinderella: And just who would do that?

Bluebeard: An assassin, of course. Everyone knows Bigby has a few secret thugs on retainer, for perpetrating various deeds of skullduggery.

Snow: That old rumor?

King Cole: Nonsense! Who…?

Cinderella: Oh? Care to name names?

Bluebeard: I don’t know who, but I’ve heard rumors one or more exists.

Snow: Impossible. How does he pay them? Bigby’s operating budget comes directly out of mine and let me tell you, it’s miniscule. He can’t afford to keep a homeless bum on retainer, much less a secret army of assassins.

Bluebeard: Maybe he has outside funding sources.

Snow: Also secret, I suppose?

Bluebeard: Why not?

King Cole: Let’s move along.

Cinderella: Ha! I knew he couldn’t name a single name. Conspiracy nut! Blowhard!

Bluebeard: Virago! And exactly what is Cinderella doing here anyway? She sells shoes – one step up from a fishmonger!

Bigby: Item Two!

(Bigby’s loud voice abruptly silences everyone.)

Bigby: I’ve received a message from Ichabod Crane. He’s whining about the unfairness of his banishment and wants to come home. He’s willing to pay back the money he embezzled and make other amends.

Boy Blue: Would he be back running things? Back here in the Business Office?

Snow: Over my dead body.

Boy Blue: I don’t think I’d like that. He didn’t treat me very nicely.

Flycatcher: Mr. Crain didn’t treat anyone nicely.

Bluebeard: You received a message? How?

Bigby: Excuse me?

Bluebeard: How did Ichabod Crane get a message to you?

Bigby: Through channels. Intermediaries.

Bluebeard: Secret channels? Secret intermediaries?

Bigby: Mind your own affairs, Bluebeard.

Bluebeard: I knew it! Bigby does have secret assets dancing on his strings.

Cinderella: Here we go again. (sarcastically) Okay, I confess. I’m secretly paying for all of Bigby’s clandestine activities from shoe sales. I only pretend I’m about to go bankrupt every month.

Flycatcher: Really, Miss Cindy?

Boy Blue: No, not really, Fly. She was being sarcastic.

King Cole: Please, people! Can we keep interruptions to a minimum? Bigby, what do you propose to do about Mr. Crane?

Bigby: I suppose I could have my secret army of imaginary assassins just kill him.

Bluebeard: Are you mocking me, Wolf?

Bluebeard (addressing the others now): Is he mocking me? He said “imaginary” implying my concerns are fabrications. Flights of fancy. Like I’m some sort of conspiracy nut.

Cinderella: If the shoe fits…

Totenkinder: I wonder if we couldn’t calm down and move a little more rapidly along. I’ve important things to attend to.

Bluebeard: Of course. You’ve got glamours to overcharge Fabletown for.

Totenkinder: Careful, sir. You overreach. It happens to be my knitting that needs attention.

Boy Blue (trying to make peace/cut the tension): Is that important, Frau Totenkinder?

Totenkinder: I would put it at no less than vital, young man.

King Cole: For now, why don’t we have Bigby further assess the situation, and report back to us when he’s got more information.

Snow: As long as Crane never shows his face here again. Any other solution would be unacceptable.

Flycatcher: Are you still mad at Mr. Crane because he jilted you, Miss White?

Snow: Excuse me?

Boy Blue: Fly…!

Bigby: What are you talking about?

Flycatcher: I know it’s a big secret, but one morning while I was mopping the floor in here, Mr. Crane was in his cups and in a talkative mood. He told me all about how you were madly, desperately in love with him, and sometimes you’d go on secret dates…

Boy Blue: Oh dear Lord, Fly, you really need to stop talking.

Flycatcher: Kissing and smooching dates. But he told you to quit because you weren’t acting like a demure and proper lady and it was improper of you to carry on so, because he was your boss, and…

Snow: How – dare – he!

Boy Blue: Seriously, buddy, stop talking right now.

Flycatcher (trailing off, perhaps?): And besides he was thinking of dating Miss Cindy instead, which made you ever so very mad.

(Snow and Cinderella simultaneously scream/groan in frustration and rage.)

Boy Blue (head in hand): Oh boy.

Flycatcher (completely innocent – there is no guile in this man): What’s wrong? You aren’t mad at me now, are you? Is it because no one has ever dated you for a whole bunch of years and a whole bunch of months, and a whole bunch of days? We’re all your friends. If we put our heads together and work really hard, I bet we could find someone willing to go out with you, Miss White. Not me though, okay?

Boy Blue: Fly!

Flycatcher: It’s not that I don’t want to. I would, but… It’s just that I work long hours and don’t make much money to buy candy and flowers and go out to nice restaurants, and you are my boss, so that would be awkward.

King Cole: Boy Blue, would you… uhm… take Flycatcher downstairs and show him those leaks in the basement pipes that need repair?

Boy Blue: Good idea, sir. I’m on it. Come on, buddy, let’s go see about those pipes.

Narrator: Flycatcher and Boy Blue exit the room. After a long and uncomfortable silence, which we won’t chronicle here, if only for brevity’s sake, Boy Blue returns, gives a thumbs-up to indicate Flycatcher is safely distracted elsewhere, and the weekly security briefing finally resumes.

Boy Blue: He didn’t mean anything, Snow. He’s really an innocent.

Snow: Crippling naiveté only goes so far, my friend. I try to make allowances, but… y’know.

Bigby: Everyone knows, Snow. Flycatcher isn’t the toughest nut to crack.

King Cole: Back to business then. Anything else, Bigby? I’d very much like to wrap this up.

Bigby: One last item, Mr. Mayor, and I’m afraid this needs immediate attention. It seems another mundy is starting to write stories about us.

Snow: So?

Bluebeard: That’s what they do.

Totenkinder: How is that worrisome? Our magical nature leaks out into the mundy all the time. They express it by writing stories about us they think are fictional. Made up fairy tales.

Bigby: This time it’s different. This time the guy is writing new stories, not simply retelling the old stuff from the Homelands. He’s writing contemporary tales about Fabletown – about what we’re up to right now.

Snow: How is that possible? Is it possible, Frau Totenkinder?

Totenkinder: Perhaps. Why not? Maybe he’s more in tune to the… leakage?

Bigby: He knows about Fabletown; Bullfinch Street; The Woodland. He knows who we are, what we do, and places us exactly within the Upper West Side. He even calls attention to The Farm.

Bluebeard: All our secrets? Who is this jackanapes?

Bigby: I’m still working on the details. Some asshole in Minnesota. But I did find out he has a publisher and they’re going to press on this soon – hence the need for expediency.

Snow: Can we stop the book from being published?

Bigby: Books. Plural. Apparently he’s intent on publishing an ongoing series. And these are comic books. Though we have a few sympathetic friends in the traditional book publishing houses – editors that will let us tweak a line or two, to better misdirect the mundy readers – stopping a publication entirely is something we’ve never tried. And it may be shortsighted of us, but we never cultivated friends among comic book publishers.

Snow: Why would we? Who would think to worry about gutter literature?

Boy Blue: Actually, comic books have grown pretty sophisticated in recent years.

Cinderella: But no one would believe a comic book story, right? No one would ever come around to see if we really exist?

Boy Blue: They might. I check out locations in mundy comics all the time, just to see if they’re based on real places.

Bluebeard: Then this mundy from Minnesota has to be stopped!

Totenkinder: For once, I agree with Bluebeard.

Snow: Mundys cannot be allowed to start showing up here, asking questions we can’t answer.

King Cole: What do you propose we do about this man then?

Bluebeard: Assassinate him. Before he can hand in his first manuscript.

(A moment of silence, while everyone looks around at everyone else.)

King Cole: No one is going to disagree with Bluebeard this time?

Snow: Not me.

Boy Blue: Nope.

Bigby: Seems like the right thing to do.

Totenkinder: The 13th Floor circle has a number of lovely poisons we’d be happy to contribute. No charge.

Cinderella: Go for it. Murder the scumbag douche-nozzle.

King Cole: Uhm… okay then. We’re all agreed to kill the mundy in Minnesota. Any suggestions on who should do it? And how?

Bufkin: Fling poisoned monkey poop at him?

Narrator: Thus ends a typical Wednesday morning in Fabletown. Thank you for your kind attention and we wish you all a delightful remainder of the day.

Curtain

That’s it. That was the radio play, performed live. Looking back over the years, I find myself fond of it, so fond in fact that I may try to think of something more to do with it, or maybe even (someday, when I have the time) something to add to it. We’ll see.

1. In the backstage run-through, just before the performance proper, Megan did the Snow White role in a perfect Fran Drescher (The Nanny) voice. She killed us. We were on the floor laughing and begged her to do the actual performance in that voice. She refused. Yes, the voice with which she did perform was fine, but if only…