Pore Kyle is daid
Pore Kyle Goblinweed is daid (note: you have to add a couple extra notes to fit in Goblinweed)
All gather round the green room now and cry
He had a small pink nose
And ten furry woodland toes
Oh why did such a creature have to die?
Pore Kyle is daid
Pore Kyle Goblinweed is daid
We've wrapped him in a cobweb for a shroud
And the lights on Broadway dim
For the memory of him
Old Acorntown has never been so proud
Then Cousin Debbie’d get up and say:
“Folks, we are gathered here to groan and moan over our brother Kyle Goblinweed
Who got hisself smushed by a gypsy cab in Greenpoint.”
And then there’s be weepin’ and wailing — that’s from some of them chorus boys—
Then she’d say: “Kyle was the most misunderstood wood sprite in Actors’ Equity
People used to think he was a sad little gnome with nothing better to do than follow around a psychopath
Hoping one day he’d let Kyle touch his pee-pee”
BUT
The folks that really knowed him
Knowed that beneath those two lesbian colorblocked blouses he always wore
There beat a heart as full as Mormon’s house (as full as Mormon’s house)
Kyle loved his fellow man (he loved his fellow man)
He loved Laura Bell Bundy
And Emily Skinner and Kelli O’Hara
He loved Ann Harada and Harriet Harris
And he treated the ensemble like equals (which was right)
He loved all the little interns
He loved everything and everyone on Broadway
Even… even if Jimmy came first
Which everybody always knew
Pore Kyle is daid
Pore Kyle Goblinweed is daid
His friends all weep and wail and wonder why
The squirrel and the fawn
Even Ellis Dappledawn
Is sad that Kyle has gone up to the sky
Pore Kyle is daid
A street lamp lights his head!
He’s lying out there bleeding in the street (Street)
His body may be crushed
But his rosy cheeks are flushed
A slaughtered lamb has never looked so sweet (Sweet)
PORE KYLE
PORE KYLE
* * *
I was asked by FunnyorDie.com to write the following skit for Christian Borle and Jack Davenport, as a sort of playful promo for the second season. Although we never got to make it, I know they both liked it, and in my new Zen universe of lowered expectations, that was enough for me. I’d still like to meet Jack Davenport, though.
CHRISTIAN BORLE/JACK DAVENPORT SMASH PROJECT
INT. DAY OR NIGHT OR WHATEVER
CHRISTIAN BORLE and JACK DAVENPORT are standing in front of a plain backdrop, maybe behind a low wall, like in Sesame Street when Elmo is about to teach someone a hard lesson about vegetables or the importance of brushing one’s teeth. They are playing themselves.
CHRISTIAN: Hello. I’m Christian Borle.
JACK: And I’m Jack Davenport.
CHRISTIAN: You may know us from the character we play on our sexy show Smash…
JACK: And since Valentine’s Day is coming up… eventually —
CHRISTIAN: We thought we’d get you in the mood by telling you what gets us in the mood. When we’re about to be intimate with adult human women.
JACK: Right.
CHRISTIAN: So what about you, Jack? Do you have a particular song you like to put on when things are getting you know…
JACK: Vaginal? Yeah. Easy. “I’m Still Here.” Gets ’em every time.
CHRISTIAN: “I’m Still Here”? You mean, like, from Follies?
JACK: Yeah. It’s all about the subliminal messaging. Think about it, Christian. What do women want? Security. Persistence. Clever Wordplay. Put on “I’m Still Here” and bam. You’ll be nailin’ like Michael Palin. As we say in the UK.
CHRISTIAN: Wow. Okay. So do you use the original cast recording or —
JACK: Elaine Stritch. Sondheim 80th birthday concert at Lincoln Center.
CHRISTIAN: You have a recording of that, or —
JACK: It’s on YouTube. Believe me, Christian. Nothing gets a pussy wetter than the sound of Elaine Stritch.
CHRISTIAN: Nice.
JACK: What about you?
CHRISTIAN: Well, I guess I’m kind of a romantic. When I’m with a woman, I like to make her feel beautiful. Cared for. I dim the lights, light a few scented candles, and then (he sings) bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum.
JACK: (approvingly) “Finishing the Hat.”
CHRISTIAN: Only in this case, the hat that I’m finishing is —
JACK: Ejaculation.
They high five.
JACK (CONT’D)
So that’s if you’re with someone really special. What about someone who’s just, like, a fuck buddy?
CHRISTIAN: “On the Street Where You Live.” Where I just happened to be. Ex sex?
JACK: “I Dreamed a Dream”?
CHRISTIAN: So literal.
JACK: Why, what’s yours?
CHRISTIAN: “Little Bird, Little Chavaleh.” Fiddler on the Roof. A father tenderly laments as his daughter leaves his family and his traditions behind forever. Very hot.
JACK: What about a hate fuck?
A quick beat, then in unison!
TOGETHER
“Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina!”
CHRISTIAN: Yeah, bro! Patti sounds so angry! You’d never use the Madonna version, would you?
JACK: God no. I’ve never hated anyone that much.
CHRISTIAN: Yeah. (Changing the subject.) Come to think, Jack, have either of us ever had sex to a song that wasn’t from a Broadway musical?
They think.
JACK: Well, I fooled around to some Kings of Leon the other day.
CHRISTIAN: Really.
JACK: Maybe it was Rihanna. Whatever was playing in the steam room at the gym. So that...
CHRISTIAN: ...doesn’t really count.
JACK: No.
They look at each other very meaningfully. Music — perhaps one of the aforementioned songs — plays. Scene.
THE END