SPOILER ALERT!
If you haven’t been to Pint-Sized and are intending to go tonight, you shouldn’t read any further. You should also get there super early because we are going to be packed. If you’re not going to Pint Sized or have already been, then go right ahead. There won’t be anything too surprising.
Well, we’ve reached our final performance at the Cafe Royale at last. I was going to do a big sum up of the last three and a half years, but honestly, we already have a website that does an amazing job of that, and will continue to do so. Browse our Past Projects page. It’s an impressive list, as is the one of our many collaborators who have joined us over the years. As for this current blog entry, I’ve decided to published the Llamalogue that ends this year’s festival, since I think it pretty much says everything that has to be said. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you, as always, to Elana McKelahan, who created the Llama character, and Rob Ready, who has defined it since the beginning, deeper and deeper every year.
Speaking of thanks… Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this first era of Theater Pub. Audience and artist alike, we could not have done it without you, and we’re so grateful we did, and had you be a part of it.
See you soon.
Llamalogue
by Stuart Bousel
The Llama enters.
LLAMA:
Bet you thought that bear was coming back this year, huh?
Fuck that bear. There is no bear. There is only Llama.
He walks over to the Bar, calling to the Bartender:
Beer me.
He gets a beer from the Bartender after some improved banter, then goes back to talking to the audience.
Funny story about that Bear. Right after we started hanging out, you know, like right after I saved that Bear’s life, everything was pretty chill, for a while. Everything was pretty awesome, actually. And then along comes this baron whose name is like Sir Owns-A-Start-Up-He-Runs-Out-Of-His-Castle-He-Bought-With-All-The-Money-He-Made-At-Facebook-The Third and guess what? Within a week we’re having the old, “It’s not you, it’s me,” conversation and yes, in fact, it was all about that Bear because that Bear sucks.
Beat.
But I’m sure it was kind of about me too.
A moment. He drinks.
Christopher Durang once wrote- What? Don’t look at me like that, I go to the Theater, okay? I know it might be hard to accept, but I’m just your typical, every-day, hyper-articulate, overly-intoxicated, theater-admiring llama, okay? God…
He spits.
Anyway, Christopher Durang once wrote, “Don’t depend on people!” He has a character say this to another character, right before she strangles her. Actually, t’s a pretty amazing moment, because the Now-Dead-Girl was looking for someone to solve her problems and the Kills-Her-Woman basically does that for her, but, likw… forever, you know? Which was probably not the solution the Dead Girl was looking for… but you can’t say it didn’t work.
Every time I think about that Bear, I think about that play.
And how I probably should have strangled that Bear.
But I guess I’m glad I didn’t.
Beat. To an audience member, confidentially:
Don’t depend on dancing bears. They are not reliable.
He drinks. He once again address the whole audience.
There’s another side to it all, of course. And maybe I’m making it more than it is. I mean, the sun always rises again, blah blah blah. Like, if that Bear can find another Baron, something that was, statistically speaking, pretty fucking unlikely, then I can probably find another Bear. If I want to.
I’m just not sure that I want to.
You see, I never really wanted a Bear, until I had one, and then I didn’t have one. So sometimes I think I want to get the Bear back… but sometimes I think I just want to get back to what I was before I ever knew there was a Bear to have in the first place.
Beat.
Because I am a Llama.
And frankly, that’s already too much jelly for anybody to handle.
He drinks.
I don’t know. Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck and some nights I call it a draw, you know? Like… some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle… but then, like… that Bear would probably want to move in. And fuck that.
He goes back to drinking. A moment, and then he sings softly:
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh, Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for oh
Whoa oh oh (What do I stand for?)
Whoa oh oh (What do I stand for?)
Most nights I don’t know anymore…
And suddenly the CHORUS enter, joining in as needed.
CHORUS:
Oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, oh,
Oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, oh
LLAMA:
This is it, boys, this is war – what are we waiting for?
Why don’t we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype
Save that for the black and white
I try twice as hard and I’m half as liked,
But here they come again to jack my style
That’s alright
I found a martyr in my bed tonight
She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am
Oh, who am I? Mmm… Mmm…
Well, some nights I wish that this all would end
‘Cause I could use some friends for a change.
And some nights I’m scared you’ll forget me again
Some nights I always win, I always win…
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh, Lord, I’m still not sure what I stand for, oh
What do I stand for?
What do I stand for?
Most nights I don’t know, anymore!
Well, that is it guys, that is all – five minutes in and I’m bored again
Ten years of this, I’m not sure if anybody understands
This one is not for the folks at home;
Sorry to leave, mom, I had to go
Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?
My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she call “love”
When I look into my nephew’s eyes…
Man, you wouldn’t believe the most amazing things that can come from…
Some terrible nights…
Oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, oh,
Oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, whoa, oh, oh
The other night you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had about you and me
I called you up but we’d both agree
It’s for the best you didn’t listen
It’s for the best we get our distance…
It’s for the best you didn’t listen
It’s for the best we get our distance…
Silence. The CHORUS slinks off. The LLAMA finishes his beer.
He straightens his back.
He leaves.
An empty place, for a moment, and then the lights go out.
San Francisco Theater Pub 