| [Press conference at an airport.] | |
| Reporter : | Philbin, how come they get to shoot Swan and we don't even get to take any pictures? |
| Philbin : | Because they've got exclusive rights to his life. |
| Reporter : | Where's he coming in from? |
| Philbin : | Transylvania. My boss'll go anywhere for a new sound. |
| [Reporters get pushed back by bodyguards.] | |
| Reporter : | [Indistinct
yelling.] .. I'll sue you! |
| Philbin : | Remember, no pictures of Swan! |
| [Crowd calling Swan's name.] | |
| Swan : | Gentlemen. I want to tell you of our latest work. It's an opera... a kind of pop cantata. It was written by the late Winslow Leach. It tells the story of a young man who sells his soul to the devil to become a pop star. It will be the first rock version of Faust. We'll be recording at The Paradise, uh, Friday night. Live, on the Death label. |
| [Swan stops for questions. Crowd of reporters try to call Swan's attention.] | |
| Swan : | Mr. Pizer. |
| Mr. Pizer : | Yeah, Mr. Swan, who's gonna be singing this, the Juicy Fruits? |
| Swan : | No, no. They're a reflection of the past. I give you the future. Beef. |
| [Beef is unveiled. Scene switches back to the Phantom's underground studio. Swan wakes the Phantom.] | |
| Swan : | Winslow. Winslow. |
| Phantom : | Huh? |
| Swan : | Good morning. |
| Phantom : | Heh.. Uh, what day is it? |
| Swan : | Thursday.
Today is Thursday. [Opens a suitcase filled with bottles of pills.] Breakfast... |
| Phantom : | Ah. |
| Swan : | A little
pick-me-up. [Hands the Phantom a handful of pills from a bottle, which the Phantom takes.] Uh, how's it coming. Don't mean to rush you of course. |
| Phantom : | Don't worry.
It'll be finished. How's Phoenix doing? I can't wait to hear her sing. |
| Swan : | Phoenix is
doing beautifully. Can't wait to meet you, by the way. Tomorrow night's the big night, ha ha. |
| Phantom : | Tomorrow night. |
| [Swan
leaves and as he leaves, he signals bricklayers to start getting ready to
brick off the Phantom's studio door. Scene switches to Beef rehearsing onstage.] |
|
| Singing
: -Beef {Old Souls getting turned slowly into Life at Last} |
Why do you try! Why you got to aahhhh! |
| [Throws guitar on to the ground in disgust and looks up at Swan who is in his box.] | |
| Beef : | Man, you had better get yourself a castrato for this, cause it's a little out of my range. |
| Swan : | Something bothering you, Beef? |
| Beef : | Swan, this was scored for a chick! I'm not doing it in drag.... |
| Swan : | You can sing it better than any bitch. |
| Beef : | You don't know
how right you are, Goliath. All right boys, from the bridge. Hit it! |
| Singing
: -Beef |
Our paths have
cross and parted This love affair was started Long, long ago Oh, this love survived the ages And in its story lie the pages Fill 'em up May ours turn slow, -ow, -ow |
| [Beef slips and falls flat on his face. Then can't get back up due to slippery shoes. He finally gets back up.] | |
| Beef : | Who says I can't sing it? |
| Swan : | I like it.
Keep working on it. Drop and octave here, change a line there. Give it a
beat. Make it completely yours. Let's go. |
| [Swan and his entourage leave.] | |
| Beef : | Far out. [To Philbin.] Doesn't that can't change the whole thing? |
| Philbin : | You heard what he said. Make it yours. As long as it sounds good, nobody's gonna care what it's about. |
| Beef : | Is that so... |
| Philbin : | Nobody cares what anything's about. |
| Beef : | Is that right... |
| Philbin : | Who the hell listens to lyrics anyway? |
| Beef : | Dry up, Tubbo. |
| [Philbin gives Beef and obscene gesture. Scene switches to the Phantom sleeping at his keyboard in his studio on a sheet of music that says "The End". Swan takes his finished music without waking the Phantom, then leaves. As he leaves he addresses the bricklayers.] | |
| Swan : | Seal it now. |
| Chapter 16 |