Neverland

By Jim Steinman

HISTORIAN:

Ladies and gentlemen I … -- I … -- I … -- I am an historian.

Yes. No. Yes. Ketchup or blood. Does it matter? They both disgust me. Ketchup or blood, does it matter? Ketchup or blood, I asked you a question. Ketchup or blood, ketchup or blood, ketchup or blood? Does it matter?

We pour one on our meats to make our meals more colorful, we pour the other on our flesh to make our deaths more colorful, to make our banquets more colorful, to make our wars more colorful, to make our table tops shine brighter with red, to make our battlefields and burial grounds run richer with red. Let the movies be seasoned with ketchup, let the stockyards be seasoned with blood, and let us all take it wherever we get it.

Yes… No. Yes… We pour one on our meats to make our meals more colorful. We pour the other on our flesh to make our wars more colorful, to make our slaughter more colorful for the movies (and yes, we do have colorful movies, yes).

Do you like the movies? I find them immeasurably more entertaining than the theater, don't you? You do? Then get out!

Barry Keating as The Historian. He holds several books. KETCHUP OR BLOOD? is scrawled on a blackboard behind him, a human skull and other objects on a desk beside him.

Ketchup or blood? We enjoy them both. Ketchup or blood? We love our movies. Ketchup or blood? We love our lives. Ketchup or blood? We love our games. Ketchup or blood? We love our wars. Ketchup or blood? We love our dreams. Ketchup or blood? We love our nightmares. Ketchup or blood? We love our bodies. Ketchup or blood? We love our meat! Well, don't we? Don't we love our meat, now, don't we? I asked you a question, don't we love our meat, now? Yes! No! Yes, we love our meat. Altogether: we love our meat. Altogether now: yes, we love our meat. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes, we love our meat!

So why do we smother it in ketchup? Why do we drown it in blood? Yes, no, yes...

It's all the same, no matter how you slice it. The last supper will be exactly the same as the last day of judgment. Nothing but ruin and emaciated, starving people nibbling on one another ... with ketchup, and with blood.

I am an historian. I have to keep reminding myself; something that hideous, you try to forget. Our deal is long. So little to do and so much ... time ... to do it in. Centuries. Endless centuries.

I think ... I'm going ... to puke. I make myself sick, don't you? Then get out! Now, then. Well, forget what I said. It's irrelevant. It has nothing to do with tonight's subject. Nothing to do with it at all. Forget it.

Shut up! Don't anybody move! I know just what you're thinking. Forget it! Ladies and gentlemen, I am an historian. I am also your narrator for tonight. Don't anybody move. Don't anybody so much as look around, or wince, or twitch, or blink, or laugh, or convulse, or cry. Stare straight ahead, stiff and stony as a corpse. Now that shouldn't be too difficult. Most of you look like rigor mortis was a way of life.

Oh, you bore me! You bore me. You bore me! Who do you think you are, anyway? Well, you're not! Perhaps you are, so much the worse for you.

Only the slightest breathing, only the slightest.

Oh, ladies and gentlemen, how ... how must I appear to you? I can guess your answer. You see one very slimy, very greasy, perhaps even ... dare I say it? ... repulsive man. Don't let it bother you, it's only my business manner, my own little brand of distilled insanity. Without my madness, I'd lose my mind. Whatever's left of it, anyway.

It is not easy being caretaker to the largest, the most inevitable, the most relentless, the most rancid, and the most inescapable cemetery in the scope of the human imagination. It is not easy being an historian.

There is a major lesson to be learned, here! And I have no idea what it is. No, I have only the facts. Oh yes, here it is, wait, hold on... 'Vaseline is no cure for cancer.' I can't argue with that. I offer no more comforting lubrication, only the facts.

There through my admittedly putrid business manner, I am what you see. No more, no less. You can ignore me for now. Do you think I care? Sooner or later you will all, ALL be victim to ... the historian!

My heart is foaming, my brain is soaking wet. My stomach is queasy, my eyes are shaking; my tongue, my thighs are hallucinating. I ... I'm in the middle of a fit. We're all in the middle of a fit. Oh, it's starting again! Won't you join me?

So! Moving right along here, what have we learned? That I am an historian, my products make you sick, and yet you remain. My faithful, foolish customers. Why can't you learn, idiot? Or ... or perhaps my products don't make you sick. Perhaps it's too late for that now, maybe you're immune. A terrifying thought.

But why go to the historian if he has lost his power to shock? Am I no longer rated X? Have even little children ceased to be afraid of my finest atrocities? My most brutal visions? Oh god, is there no succour? Oh! ... Shit.

It's at times like these that I, I remember the words of the great Indian mystic, Kuturu, who looked at me with infinite sadness. [a phrase in another language] Which means ... well, the same thing in English.

I don't think you're taking this all serious, it's... [has another fit] Are you quite finished?

I was not always as you now see me. Hard to believe, but, once I ... once, I was so innocent. Nothing on me mind. Once, I was in love with a lady. How nice it would be to feel clean again.

I can see you smirking. How amusing this all is, the little man is making a fool of himself! At least, that's what the young ones think. The old ones, they understand my power better, they're closer to me now, but ... the young ones, the babies, sometimes they never really do understand until the time comes. And the time has come!

Tonight, you will see it. The ludicrous parade of young boys. Sorry. The ludicrous display of young girls stuck to their cruel mouths in exhausted breathing, ecstatic moaning, and voluptuous...

I ... am going to cough. Again and again. It's expected of me. I always do what's expected of me. That's why I've lived so long. I think. Alright, already, alright!

I am an historian! I hope you knew that. But I have vomited up your poisons for centuries, and still you feed me your vile foods. Still, you continue to live in your own shit! And still, I continue to deliberate your doorstep. Must we continue to torture one another? [gets carried away and falls into an audience member's lap] We can't go on meeting like this, it just won't work.

I could go on, but I won't. Tonight is a festive occasion and I, well I ... let myself get carried away. Forgive me. It won't happen again.

I am an historian. I don't ask for pity. I don't ask for compassion. I don't ask for condolences. I don't ask for hope, I don't ask for promises, and I don't ask for feelings, I ask only that you keep your distance as I have tried to keep mine, though we have both failed too many times to count.

I am an historian. I ask only to be left alone. After all these years, I think I deserve that. I think I deserve that, don't you?

Just get out! Just leave me alone! Leave my vein in peace. Give us all some mercy! Die faster, die more cleanly, die more smoothly, forget the ketchup, forget the blood! Die in black and white and fuck the colors! But please ... oh, please, give history the rest it deserves. Give us all some mercy! Take your destruction somewhere else, give history the rest it deserves! Take your confessions somewhere else!

I'm sorry. There is nowhere else. I'm really very sorry, but I'll ... I'll do my best. But lakes dry up. Lakes dry up...

I ... I suppose I seem to be crying. Well, don't let it fool you, shitholes! Oh, I'll admit it, there is nowhere else. But I'll do my best. I'll do what's expected of me.

Can't you see how much I hate you?

Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, tonight's history... Let us begin with our location.

We are on the coast of southern California, on the jagged rocks overlooking the purple ocean. We are on the jagged rim of the searing edge of the west, in the farthest dream of essential America, and we are in the long and distant future. Nearby is a huge black and blue and silver city, a monster that breeds on its own inescapable pollution and corruption, and wears it's decay like a shrill, mincing smile. The great Metropolis of Obsidian. Built upon the ashes and the ruins of the Great Earthquake, like an ancient, medieval fortress it stands, beaming its blinding light out over the desolate surrounding country side.

As our story begins, a young man miraculously escapes from the clutches of the city and the Asylum for the Chemically Insane. He is 18 years old. His name is Baal, and he is our main character for tonight. Baal. B-A-A-L. Get it right! He becomes the leader of a pack, a pack of lost boys, wild children; ruthless, restless, reckless, nomadic, wandering, get the picture? Always searching for new adventure. They come here. One by one, each of them all alone from far and wide, they come here to the rocks of the coast, in the shadows of Obsidian.

Ladies and gentlemen, a song for your pleasure. Phase I: The Formation of the Pack!

Baal:

Let the revels begin
While the night is still young.
Let the revels begin;
Call our children together.
Let the revels begin
While the night is still young.
Let the revels begin;
Call our children together.
Let the revels begin
While the night is still young.
Let the revels begin;
Call the pack together.
Let the revels begin
While the night is still young.
Let the revels begin;
Call the pack together.

I was nothing but a lonely boy
Looking for something new,
And you were nothing but a lonely girl
But you were something,
Something like a dream come true.

I was a varsity tackle
And a hell of a block
And when I played my guitar
I made the canyons rock,
But every Saturday night
I felt the fever grow.
All revved up with no place to go.
D'ya know what it's like?
All revved up with no place to go.

In the middle of a steaming night
I'm tossing in my sleep.
And in the middle of a red-eyed dream
I see you coming,
Coming on to give it to me.

I was out on the prowl
Down by the edge of the track,
And like a son of a jackal
I'm the leader of the pack,
But every Saturday night
I felt the fever grow.
All revved up with no place to go.
D'ya know what it's like?
All revved up with no place to go.

Ooh, I'm like a hunter in the dark of the forest;
I'll be stalking you and tracking you down.
Cruising up and down the main track all night long.
We could be standing at the top of the world
Instead of sinking further down in the mud.

You and me 'round about midnight,
You and me 'round about midnight.
Someone's got to draw first, draw first,
Someone's got to draw first blood.
Someone's got to draw first blood.
Ooh, I got to draw first blood.
Ooh, I got to draw first ... blood.

In the middle of a steaming night
I'm tossing in my sleep.
And in the middle of a perfect dream
I see you coming,
Coming on to give it to me.

I was out on the prowl
Down by the edge of the track,
And like a son of a jackal
I'm the leader of the pack,
But every Saturday night
I felt the fever grow.
All revved up with no place to go.
D'ya know what it's like?
All revved up with no place to--

[instrumental]

I was nothing but a lonely All-American boy
Looking out for something to do.
You were nothing but a lonely All-American girl
But you were something like a dream come true.
I was out on the prowl
Down by the edge of the track,
And like a son of a jackal,
I'm the leader of the pack,
But every Saturday night
I felt the fever grow.

All revved up with no place to go!
All revved up with no place to go!
All revved up with no place to go!
All revved up with no place to go!
All revved up with no place to go!

Historian:

After a while, rumors spread! It is said that strange, orgiastic, and brutal rights are performed on these rocks and in the sulfurous caves beneath. The rulers of Obsidian are terrified that Baal and his track pack might leave their primitive home and come wandering into the city limits, thus destroying the peaceful balance of urban life.

And just between you and me, their worries are not entirely without justification. I mean, really, I ask you (but I must not take sides!)... Civilization is tense! Action is taken! Baal's youth, freedom, and extravagant use of leisure time is a threat. The city sends out Max and Emily! Two special agents, assassins of the young, and masters of impersonation. (Charming couple, I've known them for years.) Their job is simple: tame the wild beasts and bring them back alive for proper public punishment!

Max:

Emily, look! Look about you. We are in the clouds! Each year, the towers of the city seem to reach higher and higher, further and further away from the filthy earth. And someday, all this will be totally enclosed, sealed tight within a huge, antiseptic bubble. Nothing will get in and nothing will get out. Everything will be controlled. The ultimate hygiene will be triumphant. There will be no need for nature! The era of the new man, free from nature! Totally free.

Nature is the ladder we have climbed up on. Now we kick her away. Eventually, we will have total command from the beginning of life to the end.

Even as I speak, the test tubes are starting to bleed. The test tubes are starting to bleed! First blood, only the beginning! The experiments are far from over. The laboratories are everywhere. Find chemical blood to fill all the vessels! Leave nothing to nature!

And in the end, you will die, but even then you will not become filth. In a few moments, you are a little heap of ash, clean white powder, and there will be no wind to blow that powder about. Each grain will remain exactly in its place where you died until the end of the universe!

I see chrome! I see chrome everywhere! I dream of chrome. And still the towers grow. Obsidian rides even higher! Split the stars! Slice up the rim of heaven! Rip up the night! Shine in the moonlight! Ah! Just like a blade! Just like a blade!

Historian:

Historian: But meanwhile, back on the rocks, there is intrigue afoot. The rebels continue. There is a plan.

Baal:

Tonight, I want her.

Tink:

We don't need her.

Baal:

I need someone.

Tink:

Why does it have to be her?

Baal:

Something new. I used to watch her by the light of the window in the asylum. I've always wanted her. And now I can have her.

Historian:

Ladies and gentlemen, come with me now, stay by my side, as we follow Baal and Tink, his fiery henchman and most trusted lieutenant, through the gates. A treacherous journey, to be sure, as we pass through and enter into Obsidian.

Phase II: The Expedition.

And now, in her room, on top of the north high tower, we can see Wendy here, right next to the Asylum for the Chemically Insane. While up above, we will observe her loving parents, Max and Emily, and beneath them all, the city comes to life.

Emily:

City night,
Where all the butcher's blocks are looking for a bite.
City night,
And all the stars are spent while bullets steal their lights.
City night,
And all the sanctuaries vanishing from sight.

City night,
And all the children in their cages sleeping tight.
City night,
And all the inmates making love by the TV light.
City night,
And all the shadows roam the streets looking for fights.

Max:

So give yourself to the rising wind
The gradual execution will now begin
When there's nothing to loose, then there's nothing left to win.

Emily:

Who knows where this city ends
And the house of detention begins?
Who knows where this city ends
And the house of detention begins?

All:

City night,
And all our children in their cages sleeping tight.
City night,
And all the inmates making love by the TV light.
City night,
And all the shadows roam the streets looking for fights.

So give yourself to the rising wing
The gradual execution will now begin
When there's nothing to loose then there's nothing left to win.

Emily:

Who knows where my body ends
And where their bodies begin?
Who knows where my body ends
And where their bodies begin?

Baal:

The sky is shaking so that I can hardly stand
I'm just a kid; don't make me feel like a man.
And in the moonlight I can see your trembling hands.
I'm just a kid; don't make me feel like a man.

Emily:

Wendy! Are you still awake? Don't you realize what you're doing to yourself?

Wendy:

The sea is watching the sky and the sky is watching the sea. Nothing will ever happen.

Emily:

Really, I don't know where you pick up these ideas. You haven't slept for days. What do you see out there?

Wendy:

Nothing.

Emily:

Won't you at least take something? Just to help you sleep. Surely, you'll do that. For us?

Wendy:

Why do you make me sleep so much?

Emily:

There we are!

Wendy:

What if I don't want any?

Emily:

Emily: Only medicine. We got it 'specially for you. It's a new one, to make you feel better.

Wendy:

I don't want it!

Emily:

Why ... I'm shocked. Surely you don't think we... We're only trying to make it easier for you.

Wendy:

There have been so many medicines, so many drugs.

Emily:

We're making great progress in that area.

Wendy:

Mother, why don't I ever dream anymore?

Emily:

Don't be ridiculous! You just don't remember your dreams.

Wendy:

Please don't lie to me. It's something you've been giving me. I never dream anymore.

Emily:

Even if you dream, it's of no value. It can only lead to trouble.

Wendy:

It's been so long. The sea is watching the sky, the sky is watching the sea, nothing will ever happen.

Emily:

Poor child. She makes things so difficult. ... There, just what the doctor ordered. Wendy, dear! I have something for you. You will at least turn around? Here, have a piece of fruit.

Wendy:

I'm not hungry.

Emily:

You've got to eat something! You need the nourishment! You're getting so ... thin! For our sake... Put our minds at ease, and we won't bother you any more tonight. ... Go ahead, it won't bite. There, that's better. That's a good girl. Well, I guess we'll see you in the morning, then. Your father and I may be out very late tonight. We're working on a case, you know.

At last, a long, long sleep. 'Till we're all together again.

Max:

We might be gone for quite some time. Are you sure it's safe leaving her here all alone?

Emily:

Quite safe. Until we return, there is almost nothing that can awaken her. ... For your own good. You were in the deep end again, with no one to guide you. It's so dangerous there, in the deep end. You get wild ideas, keep bad company. You're much too far.

Max:

Too far down.

Emily:

In the deep end.

Max:

We had to bring you back.

Emily:

Someday you'll understand. We're only trying to protect you. Someday you'll know what it's like.

Max:

She looks so lovely.

Emily:

There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. After all--

Max:

She never looked lovelier.

Emily:

--she's all we have. Goodnight, my darling.

Historian:

The coast is clear.

Phase III: The Abduction.

Baal:
Ellen Foley as Wendy, dressed in all white and looking contemplative as she sits on the edge of her bed.

Our love is a secret,
Our love is a word.
Something unspoken
But perfectly heard.
Our love is a whisper,
Our love is a breeze.
Something always silent,
Like the song of the leaves on the trees.

Our love is a secret,
Our love is a breeze.
Something better left unspoken
Like the song of the leaves on the lonely trees.

Come with me,
And we know love.
We'll show you
And we will teach you.
Take my hand
And learn from us.
We'll touch you
And we will reach you.

Come with me,
And we know love.
We'll show you
And we will teach you.
Take my hand
And learn from us.
We'll touch you
And we will reach you.

And you'll know love forever,
And you'll know love forever more.
Forever more.

Baal and Pack:

Voyager now,
Surveyor of ruins.
Beautiful mutants
Voluptuous acrobats,
Psychotic magicians,
Mescaline cowboys,
Renegade angels,
Amphetamine prophets,
Satanic lords,
Celestial scavengers,
Anarchist bike boys,
Glittering gods and ravaging saviors.
Unholy acolytes,
Queens of the night,
Rock and roll Aryans,
Alchemical freaks.

Voyager now,
Surveyor of ruins.
Off to a million midnights.
Black, black voyager.
Off to a million tomorrows.
Black and black.
Seek and find the unchanged children.
Send them back.
Send them back.

Baal:

Let me take you away from all this.

Wendy:

Nothing will ever happen.

Baal:

You shouldn't be so negative. Something will happen. I'm sure of it.

Our love is an ancient secret,
Our love is a gentle breeze.
Some things better left unspoken
Like the song of the leaves on the dying trees.

Our love is an ancient secret,
Our love is a gentle breeze.
Some things better left unspoken
Like the song of the leaves on the dying trees.

Baal:

You'd like our home. Neverland. Listen... Wendy, listen!

Wendy:

Please?

Baal:

And Neverland feels... like this!

Baal:

The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling
Way down in the valley tonight.
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye
And a blade burning oh so bright.
There's evil in the air and there's thunder in the sky,
And a killer's on the bloodshot streets.
And down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising,
Oh, I swear I saw a young boy
Down in the gutter.
He was starting to foam in the heat

Baby, you're the only thing in this whole world
That's pure and good and right.
And wherever you are and wherever you go
There's always gonna be some light.
But I gotta get out,
I gotta break it out now,
Before the final crack of dawn.
So we gotta make the most of our one night together.
When it's over, you know,
We'll both be so alone.

Like a bat out of hell,
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over,
like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone, gone, gone.
Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the day is done and the sun goes down
And moonlight's shining through,
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.

Wendy:

Don't leave me!

Baal:

I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram
On a silver black phantom bike.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry,
And we're all about to see the light.
Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole,
Everything is stunted and lost.
And nothing really rocks
And nothing really rolls
And nothing's ever worth the cost.

And I know that I'm damned if I never get out,
And maybe I'm damned if I do,
But with every other beat I got left in my heart...
You know I'd rather be damned with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned,
Dancing through the night with you.

Baal & Wendy:

If I gotta be damned, you know I wanna be damned.
Gotta be damned, you know I wanna be damned.
If I gotta be damned, you know I wanna be damned,
Dancing through the night,
Dancing through the night,
Dancing through the night with you!

Like a bat out of hell,
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over,
Like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone, gone, gone.
Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the day is done and the sun goes down
And moonlight's shining through...

Baal:

Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.

 

[rapid-fire dialogue]

Baal:

All the stories we could tell.

Tink:

All the young boys--

Baal:

And all the young girls.

Tink:

Lured and enticed.

Baal:

Out of their rooms.

Tink:

Out of their homes.

Baal:

Beyond the asylum.

Tink:

Into the darkness.

Baal:

Into the reverie.

Tink:

Down to the deep end.

Baal:

Down to the deep end.

Tink:

Year after year.

Baal:

Lured and enticed.

Tink:

Lost boys.

Baal:

Lost girls.

Tink:

Year after year.

Baal:

Sooner or later--

Tink:

--they'll never grow up.

Both:

Sooner or later, they'll never grow up.

Wendy:

Never grow up...

Baal:

Destiny!

I can see myself tearing up the road.

Baal & Wendy:

Faster than any other boy has ever gone.
And my skin is raw but my soul is ripe.
No one's gonna stop me now,
I gotta make my escape.

Baal:

But I can't stop thinking of you,
And I never see the sudden curve until it's way too late.
I never see the sudden curve till it's way too late.

Then I'm dying at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun,
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike.
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And the last thing I see is my heart - still beating,
Breaking out of my body and flying away,
Like a bat out of hell.

Baal & Wendy:

Then I'm dying at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun,
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike.

Baal:

And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And the last thing I see is my heart - still beating, still beating,
Breaking out of my body and flying away
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.

Baal & Wendy:

Like a bat out of hell.

Baal:

Now!

Emily:

No! She's gone! They've taken her! She's gone!

Historian:

And now, she must play a few games, pass a few tests with the other children.

Phase IV: The Initiation.

 

[The pack repeats everything Wendy says]

Wendy:

I don't want to be in this light alone. I don't want to be in this light alone. I don't want to be in this light alone...What makes it so cold? Why don't they touch me? I don't want to be in this light alone, I don't want to be in this light alone!

Baal:

It's all right. There's nothing to be afraid of. Nice and still. I'll guide you. See? Nothing. Still. We're all here. We're all watching. We're all listening, all talking, all singing, all dancing. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all, anymore.

Wendy:

Let me in.

Baal:

Your eyes are empty. Empty space. There's not much there.

Wendy:

Let me in.

Baal:

What makes you any different?

Wendy:

What makes it so cold?

Baal:

Why don't they touch you?

Wendy:

What makes them any different?

Baal:

What makes you so cold?

Wendy:

Nothing. Nothing at all anymore.

Baal:

And what can you … offer us?

Wendy:

Offer you? But I thought you said––

Baal:

I know what I did. I know I did, I know. You misunderstood.

Wendy:

No!

Baal:

It's a common mistake, it happens all the time around here. Nothing to be ashamed of.

Wendy:

You offered me!

Baal:

You don't have to shout! I believe you. Not that I wouldn't. Now what can you … offer us? Besides what we already have.

Wendy:

Well, I … I … if I only understood what you already have.

Baal:

Not very much. What are you offering?

Wendy:

Well, maybe I could––

Baal:

Oh, we've got that.

Wendy:

Well, well then what if I––

Baal:

Oh, we could use some of that, but not right now.

Wendy:

Well, then maybe I have––

Baal:

Oh, we used to have a whole lot of that, but we got tired of it. Now, on the other hand, maybe you'd like to offer us a little––

Wendy:

Oh, I wouldn't do that, it's not proper.

Baal:

Well, then, how about some of your––

Wendy:

Oh, that's mine all right, but there's so little left that I couldn't spare it.

Baal:

Well, then we wouldn't mind a tiny taste of––

Wendy:

Oh, I've got plenty of that, but you wouldn't like it. Make you sick. … Let me in. Look… My skin is white. Incredibly white. There are no scars on my body, you'll have to make some.

Baal:

How'd you get here?

Wendy:

What?

Baal:

How'd you get here?!?

Wendy:

I did!

Baal:

We all did! What makes you any different?

Wendy:

Stop it!

Baal:

What makes me so cold?

Wendy:

I don't know.

Baal:

I believe you. Thousands wouldn't. Ask me for something.

Wendy:

What do I need?

Baal:

A hiding place?

Wendy:

Oh, I do need a hiding place!

Baal:

I'm sorry. There are no more hiding places. All the hiding places are hiding. Tell me about yourself.

Wendy:

Well, what do you want to know?

Baal:

Well, are you … anal, rectal, vaginal, oral, genital, bestial, hetero, homo, bi-, tri-, quatre-, cinq, six, sick, lonely, desperate, monolingual, bilingual, cunnilingual, passionate, poetic, barbarian, Cesarean, mammalian, cornucopian, horn of plenty, plenty horny??

Wendy:

All right! Stop! What do you want me to say?!

Baal:

All of them!

Wendy:

Yes, I am all of them! I am everything you want!

Baal:

Aren't you exhausted? … Would you like to hear about a dream I had?

Wendy:

I don't know.

Baal:

What do you know about mirrors?

Wendy:

Nothing.

Baal:

What makes you any different?

Wendy:

Nothing.

Baal:

Ah, c'mon, let me tell you about it. We've got all the time in the world.

Wendy:

All right.

Baal:

Good. That's right.

I dreamt about them once. I dreamt about them a lot, over and over again, and now I can't stop. Mirrors. An army of mirrors out of control. An army of mirrors out of control! Reflecting people to death. Reflecting people to death! To blindness, then death.

The mirrors kept getting larger, they kept growing, the kept swelling, they kept spreading out and I can't seem to stop them. They're still growing, and I can't seem to stop them. I have to keep filling them up, I have to keep feeding them, and they are still getting larger ... and larger. The mirrors have become vast and beautiful and very, very hungry. Hungrier than I've ever been in my whole life. Too hungry.

I no longer have any control over what they show me or what they see. I no longer have any control over the mirrors. They decide what they would like to reflect. They won't obey me anymore!

They create a reflection, and then ... then I have to go out and find the real thing that matches it. Yet almost always when I put the real thing in front of the mirrors, it is not nearly as beautiful as the reflection that came first.

I go out looking again, until finally I find another real thing, a thing that does match what's inside the mirror, a thing that truly is worthy of the beautiful reflection that came first. But I almost never find it. The mirrors get even hungrier. Pretty soon, they'll be ready to devour me. They're going to tear me apart, they're going to swallow me up, piece by piece, bit by bit, shiver by shiver, tremble by tremble, sliver and sliver, and splinter by splinter.

But you can help me. Please? They want you. Please? They've given me your image. Before I ever saw you, they gave me your image. Please?

I'd like to make you one of my reflections and feed you to the mirrors. Please? They only need one more to fill them up, and if it were you, I feel that they would be satisfied, as I would be. Please?

You have such a beautiful reflection. Don't waste it.

Wendy:

I bet you say that to all the girls.

Baal:

Yeah.

Baal (Richard Dunne) and Wendy (Ellen Foley) converse, seated on the floor. Jim Steinman's Neverland, 1977

Wendy:

What did you have us do?

Baal:

I just started.

Wendy:

Yeah.

Baal:

Your skin is white.

Wendy:

Incredibly white.

Baal:

There are no scars on your body.

Wendy:

You'll have to make some.

Baal:

Yeah. … On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?

Wendy:

Would he offer me his mouth?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

Would he offer me his teeth?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

Would he offer me his jaws?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

Would he offer me his hunger?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

Again, will he offer me his hunger?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

And will he starve without me?

Baal:

Yes!

Wendy:

And does he love me?

Baal:

Yes.

Wendy:

Yes.

Baal:

On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?

Wendy:

Yes.

Baal:

I bet you say that to all the boys. … There. Listen. Now, catch up. Make it even. Make it exactly even with mine! Catch up! Speed! Don't worry, it'll be alright, I'm sure of it.

Wendy:

Couldn't we just try––

Baal:

You promised!

I'm sorry.

Wendy:

I forgive you.

Baal:

First blood. Did it hurt very much?

Wendy:

It's not what I thought.

Baal:

Please.

Wendy:

Why did you do this?

Baal:

Please.

Wendy:

What was the point of it all?

Baal:

I don't know. I've forgotten. I remember reasons for a lot of the other stuff, but not this one. I'm sure it had a point, though. Probably a very good point.

Wendy:

You can't really tell me, can you?

Baal:

No. Why should I? You didn't have to do it. It was your idea. You were the one who wanted to do it in the first place! It was your idea. Listen.

Wendy:

What is it?

Baal:

Your body. So much louder than before. So much louder. Like mine. Exactly like mine now, racing like mine, together! Flying! Listen. They rhyme. You can hear our bodies rhyme!

Wendy:

Maybe that was the point.

Baal:

Maybe. … Oh, shit. Breathing's no fun anymore.

Historian:

Lades and gentlemen, has it come to this? Nature takes its course. There's no doubt about it, they were doubly blessed, for they were barely 17 and they were barely dressed. They're young and in love, and the whole world is springtime.