A Bedtime Story for the Upper East Side

Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a beautiful princess. She had lovely golden hair, a melodic singing voice, and had recently been accepted into the city’s elite day schools. She certainly had it all.

But her landlord—an evil old shrew who smelled of cigarettes and fish—saw the Princess’s good fortune and plotted against her. “Who does she think she is?” the Shrew brooded in an uncouth-sounding accent, possibly upper Bronx or Jersey. “I will make her miserable, just like me!”

And with that, she set out to cast a spell on the fair Princess, a spell that would taint her lovely golden hair with a horrendous stench, a stench that would involve many trips to the salon to rectify. That, or it would kill her. She concocted a magic potion in the building’s boiler room and injected the sinister elixir into the Princess’s favorite lunch: a brioche sandwich of imitation foie gras and low-fat Roquefort.

That morning as the Princess exited the elevator and set off for school, the Shrew called out to her, “Oh Princess! I made this lunch especially for you!” The Princess squealed with glee.

“Imitation foie gras and low-fat Roquefort on brioche! How did you know?”
“Oh,” replied the Shrew slyly. “I have a way.”
“Is it organic?” the Princess inquired.
“Yes. It is organic,” answered the Shrew.
“And low-cal?”
“Yes. It is low-cal.”

Satisfied, the Princess slipped the lunch into her Juicy Couture knapsack and skipped off to school. The Shrew couldn’t help but unfurl her curled lips in the most menacing of smiles.

The young doorman, Raul, noticed this smile and grew suspicious. The Shrew never smiled, except when passersby slipped on the icy sidewalk or small dogs with hot pink dyed fur trotted past. As soon as the Shrew was out of sight, Raul left his post at the door—something he never did (wink wink).

The Princess greeted her girlfriends Ainsley, Bentley and Chanel at school and showed them the lunch the Shrew made her. The girls cooed over the confection.

“And to think,” the Princess mused. “She would go to all this trouble after I called Animal Control on her ferret collection.”

“That was so disgusting,” sniffed Ainsley with a wrinkle of her noise.
“She’s lucky you didn’t report her to the INS,” chimed in Bentley.
“My nanny was just deported yesterday,” sighed Chanel. “I’ll never see her again.”

Just then, a rumbling sound. “Oh dear,” the Princess moaned, clutching her flat stomach. “That low-cal imitation yogurt drink from breakfast just isn’t satisfying me. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to eat my lunch early…”

The Princess unwrapped the foil, sniffed the fragrant brioche, brought the sandwich to her lips, opened wide— When suddenly:

“NOOOOO!”

Young Raul swooped in and swatted the sandwich from the Princess’s gaping mouth. “The Shrew! She’s jealous of your good fortune and means to poison you!” The sandwich erupted into flames on the sidewalk.

The Princess grew faint from the revelation and the ensuing excitement, and Raul scooped her up in his arms. He carried her seven blocks and three avenues to her father’s law firm and explained the whole thing to him. The Princess’s father called the authorities, and the Shrew was taken away in handcuffs. When they raided her unit they discovered many more undocumented ferrets.

“Raul,” the Princess’s father said. “We owe you big time. Please accept this unlimited Metro card to use the subway whenever you please.”

Raul was very grateful. But something happened between him and the Princess in that rescue. They fell in love.

The Princess’s father would not have it. He called the INS and had Raul deported.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

The End

O Come Emanuels: Scenes from Two Childhoods

The future Hollywood super-agent and the future Washington super-Chief of Staff share a room. Before one of them mailed a dead fish to a new enemy.

SCENE ONE

Lights up on a small olive complexioned child as he plays with building blocks. This is ARI EMANUEL, age six. His brother, RAHM EMANUEL, age seven, enters.

RAHM.      What are you doing?

ARI.            Building my empire.

RAHM.      Whose empire?

ARI.            My empire.

RAHM.      No. Wrong.

Rahm finds a G.I. Joe doll and places it inside the fortress Ari has created out of blocks.

RAHM.      There. Now you have a purpose.

The brothers stare each other down. Then, in one swift motion, Ari swipes his arm and knocks down the blocks.

RAHM.      You’re gonna wish you never did that.

Lights down.

SCENE TWO

Lights up on Rahm and Ari facing opposite corners of the room. Ari has a black eye. Rahm’s fist is wrapped in bandages and his arms are scratched up. Neither turns to look at the other.

RAHM.       Ari Emanuel. Dead.

ARI.             No I’m not.

RAHM.       Dead.

ARI.             Rahm, I’m not dead!

RAHM.        You’re dead to me.

ARI.              Nah uh, you’re dead to me— Dead with a capital everything.

RAHM.        Yeah, well if you’re so dead, why don’t you find a new room.

ARI.              Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll make my own new room.

RAHM.        Maybe you should make a new family too while you’re at it.

ARI.              Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll make my own new family.

RAHM.         I just said that, dumb butt.

ARI.              You’re the dumb butt. YOU’RE THE DUMB BUTT.

Rahm slides off his stool, approaches Ari. He blows lightly in Ari’s ear, waits for a reaction. A moment. Then, Ari finds the play phone by his feet and hurls it across the room.

Lights down.

End of play.