Cat's M/M Fiction - Jack and Danny - The Musical


You don't have to be a mentalist to read this, but it will certainly help!


I have a proposal for all you thespians out there, especially those with cash to spare. A once in a lifetime opportunity to invest in a West End and Broadway Musical, the like of which has never been seen before: an all singing, all dancing extravaganza, it’s sure to be a spanking success! Slap on a Queen’s greatest hits CD, lay back, relax, write out a substantial cheque and I guarantee you won’t regret investing in:

 

 

JACK AND DANNY:  THE SENSATIONAL STAGE MUSICAL

 

 

It’ll have you dancing in the aisles, but hopefully not clutching your backsides like Danny was after Jack had finished walloping him!

 

~Stage play by Alan Aykbourne (honest, he loves my stuff)

~Music and song lyrics courtesy of Queen’s Freddie Mercury, John Deacon, and ~Brian May

~Choreography by Wayne Sleep, under protest and at gunpoint

 

~Starring: Daniel MacIntyre...a legend in his own mind.

~Also Starring: Jack Kinross...fresh from his success with a brown paper bag.

~Co-starring: Sebastian Skelator...stale from a hospital bed.

~Featuring: Tristan The Posh Prat...as you’ve never seen him before, in fishnet tights ~and high heel (sick bags available in the foyer, £5.50 each, or two for £20)

 

~Special guest appearance by a large wooden hairbrush (available from all good ~branches of Boots The Chemist)

 

Text placed between* indicates song lyrics and should be sung, I DEMAND that you all SING!

 

 

 

Story outline and scene one:

 

Jack and Danny’s dining room on a quiet Sunday morning

 

Breakfast is over, Danny, after an eventful week in the wreaking havoc department has been grounded for the good of the public at large, and he isn’t too pleased about it. He stands gazing moodily out of the window, arms folded. He’s a red headed rebel without a cause and he’s miffed about it, other rebels had causes, why shouldn’t he? Jack wouldn’t let him have anything and he was sick of it.

 

Jack, while unaware of the small rebellion brewing by the window, is fully aware of the small rebel brooding by the window and is attempting to ignore him and read the newspaper. Mistoffelees, beloved family pet, has other ideas, he firmly believes that newspapers are specifically designed for him to lounge across and he has an uncanny knack for knowing precisely what piece of print Jack is trying to read, placing a strategic paw or tail across it.

 

Meanwhile, Danny is daydreaming about being a modern day James Dean, roaring up the road on his Raleigh racer with drink bottle attachment and chrome bell featuring Scooby Doo. It suddenly dawns on him that real rebels don’t ask permission to seek causes to rebel about, and not only that, he realises that he isn’t a causeless rebel anyway, a clueless one, but not causeless. His cause was under his very nose, just waiting for him to rebel with it. Before being grounded he’d been planning on doing a naked Gay Rights bike ride with Lily next door, who at the age of eighty two had decided to ‘come out,’ and was campaigning for Gay OAP Tea Dances to be held at the Town Hall every second Tuesday.

 

The orchestra strikes up (in Danny’s imagination at least)

 

Dramatically unfolding his arms, he whirls around, stamping his heels in traditional Spanish zapateado fashion, and then launches into song.

 

*‘Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle...’*

 

Jack, who has no idea he’s taking part in Danny’s fantasy musical, is understandably startled as his diminutive partner dementedly flamencos across the dining room floor, but not as startled as Mistoffelees who fluffs up to five times his normal size and launches a vicious attack on Sebastian, who just happens to walk into the room at that precise moment.

 

Danny’s singing drowns out the screams as Sebastian gallops about the room trying to shrug an enlarged, enraged feline from his back.

 

Jack, with typical Top aplomb (try saying that after downing a crate of Bacardi Breezers) takes being sung and danced at in his stride, and says sternly. “Your bicycle has been confiscated Daniel, as well you know,” calmly adding, “and it’s staying confiscated until you learn to ride it with more care and attention. How do you think I felt when I saw you whizzing along just behind me on the motorway at over seventy miles an hour? I told you that those baggy wide legged jeans were unsuitable attire for riding a pushbike, but did you take any notice, I think not, and Lord knows how you managed to snag them on the back bumper of my car. You could have been killed.”

 

*‘I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle...’  *

 

“What you want and what you’ll get are two very different things, and kindly refrain from bouncing around like that?”

 

Sebastian, still desperately trying to dislodge the deranged moggy, launches into a musical number...

 

*‘It started off so well, they said we made a perfect pair... ‘*

 

Jack glares at Sebastian irritably, “what are you griping about now Skel, er Sebastian, you can’t blame Danny for all the disasters that seem to dog you and Tris, and stop playing with that cat. You’ll make him dizzy whirling him around like that!”

 

Misty manages to claw his way up onto his host’s head.  It’s too much for Sebastian, who, with the cat still clinging insistently to his cranium like a Davy Crockett hat, flees the house, singing...

 

*‘Save me, save me , SAAAVE me, I can’t face this life alone......’*  “TRISSSY WHERE ARE YOU, SAVE ME, SAVE ME!”

 

Jack shakes his head and closes the front door, not overly concerned. He knows Misty will eventually find his way safely back home, hopefully losing his skeletal transport in the process.

 

As soon as he re-enters the dining room, Danny starts singing, and performing a beautifully choreographed stamping routine that has Wayne almost in tears with its perfection. On the other hand, it has to be considered that the tears could be due to the fact that Danny has just accidentally kicked him in the codpiece, as he pirouetted past the wings.  Jack calmly manoeuvres his own codpiece out of harms way, “Daniel, is it really necessary for you to leap up and down in the air, with your hands above your head, crossing and uncrossing your ankles like that? I’m beginning to suspect you of over consumption of sugar and cola.”

 

*‘I want to ride my bicycle’*

 

“NO!”

 

*‘I want to ride my bike’*

 

“Are you listening to me young man, I said no, and when I say no, I mean no.”

 

*‘I want to ride my bicycle’*

 

“I’m warning you Daniel.”

 

*‘I want to ride it where I like’... *

 

“I heard you the first time, there’s no need to keep repeating yourself,” Jack returned to his paper, “and I’ll thank you not to do the splits like that, you could do yourself a real mischief! As for riding your bike, you can forget it. You’ll have to find something to do in the house. Cleaning the bath wouldn’t come amiss”

 

*‘You say black, I say white…’*

 

“Actually I’m the one that says white, you’ve already left it black, I want it returning to white. I’ve told you before about shampooing your bike chain in the bath.”

 

*‘You say bark, I say bite…’*

 

“I know that killing Mr Gregson’s guide dog was a complete freak accident, but pretending to be it was just beyond the pale!” Jack shuddered, as the memory of Danny, attached to a harness dragging a blind man across the road, flitted back into his mind. He’d almost crashed the car.  “I know you meant well, you didn’t want to upset him, and you went to admirable lengths in an attempt to keep up the charade, until you could replace his dog. However, as I said, barking at the postman was one thing, actually biting him was quite another.”

 

*‘You say shark, I say hey man

Jaws was never my scene…’*

 

“Don’t be silly Daniel, I said no such thing! As for Jaws, there was no excuse for putting Peter’s giant Pet Pike in Mr Gregson’s fishpond.  That poor dog, getting dragged under and drowned like that when it all it wanted was a drink of water! Twelve of the best with the cane was far less than you deserved.”

 

*‘And I don’t like Star Wars…’*

 

“That is simply not true Danny, you’re just being sulky now. You were watching the videos only last night.”

 

*‘You say Rolls, I say Royce

You say God, give me a choice.

You say Lord, I say Christ…’*

 

“I’ll wash your mouth out if you blaspheme just once more today, it is Sunday. Show some respect.”

 

*‘...So forget all your duties oh yeah!

Fat bottomed girls

They’ll be riding today...’*

 

Jack, his patience beginning to wear, shakes the paper and says firmly, “well you won’t be riding with them, and I’m sure the lesbian branch of Gay Cyclists wouldn’t appreciate you saying they had fat backsides.”

 

*‘I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride my bike

I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride it where I like’...* 

 

 “So bloody there!”  Danny, with a final rebellious stamp, places hands on hips in a classical ballet stance, toes pointing outwards and glares, slightly breathlessly, at Jack.

 

“Right, that’s it. I’ve had more than enough of your tantrums, musical or otherwise!”  Rising majestically to his feet, Jack gives in and enters Danny’s fantasy. Grabbing his hand he whirls him round in a Fred Astaire and appropriately enough, Ginger Rodgers type move gracefully dipping him backwards.

 

Tristan, wearing a pink sequinned leotard and a feathered headdress dances onstage holding a satin cushion, on which resides a large wooden hairbrush. With a flourish he presents it to Jack, singing

 

*“Jack, aha, Saviour of the universe...Jack, aha, he’ll save everyone of us...”* 

 

Danny suddenly finds himself with an aerial view of the carpet, as Jack with expert ease puts him over his knee. His eyes open wide in shocked surprise, as a draught around his nether regions indicates incoming agony for him, in two respects…his bare backside and his unprotected eardrums.  Yes folks, brace yourselves…Jack’s about to sing (earplugs available in the foyer at £25 a pair)

 

*‘Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this,’*

 

“I’m not ready Jack, to be honest. I’m not, can’t we just talk about this?”

 

*‘are you hangin' on the edge of your seat…’*    “or,” improvises Jack jovially, “my lap in your case.”

 

Danny scowls, “Ha-bloody-ha, I’m splitting my sides.”
 

*‘Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone and another one gone
Another one bites the dust...’*

 

“Argh...Ouch...JAAAACK!”
 
 *‘Are you happy ? Are you satisfied?
How long can you stand the heat...’*

 

“I’m not happy Jack, I must confess, not right at this moment, and as for the heat, I really can’t stand much more of it. I think I might need a fireman’s hose!”

 

*‘But I'm ready, yes I'm ready for you
I'm standing on my own two feet…’*

 

“You always are ready for me Jack, and it’s not fair. I don’t get away with anything, and I wish I could get to stand on my two feet, just once in a while, instead of always kicking them up in the air while you spank my bottom six shades of scarlet...OW!”
 

*‘Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone and another one gone
Another one bites the dust, yeah
Hey, I'm gonna get you too... ‘*

 

“Oh God, not again! AAGHH...You’ve got me Jack, you’ve got me! Please, don’t make another one bite my bum. I’ll never sit down again!”

 

*‘Another one bites the dust
Hey, alright’*

 

“Alright, yes alright Jack. I’m sorry Jack. I’ll be brilliantly good and sensible for the rest of my life, or for however long it takes my bottom to stop throbbing!”

 

 

...That’s roughly the first act. The rest of the musical concerns Tristan and Sebastian’s fiendish plot to split Jack and Danny up, arranging for Danny to be kidnapped and sold into slavery. Ally, with the help of Georgie and co, Den and Jack, foil the plot and rescue our hero. In a shatteringly emotional climax (not that kind, get your minds out of the gutter, this is a family show) Jack and Danny are reunited.

 

 

Finale Synopsis:

 

Jack and Danny, their arms entwined around each other, stand centre stage, bathed in the warm glow of the spot light. Most of the audience are already in tears (having being refused their money back)

 

Jack, his voice dubbed by Justin Timberlake for this bit, sings

 

*‘Ooh you make me live

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango just for two...’*

 

“I don’t think any more than two can actually tango Jack, it’s not like disco dancing in a club where a crowd gather around some woman’s handbag to dance.”

 

“Be quiet at once Daniel, I’m being romantic here.”

 

“Sorry, sing on love.”

 

*‘I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings

Be your Valentino just for you.’*

 

They tango together. In the wings Wayne is so overcome by the exquisiteness of it all that he stands weeping copiously. It’s the pinnacle of his choreographic career, how can he ever go back to the mundane world of The Royal Ballet at Convent Garden after this? Though, to be honest, if it wasn’t for the fact that Danny had ‘accidentally’ super glued his ballet pumps to the floor he’d be having a damn good try. Suddenly, days and nights of hell in a rat-infested jungle seem attractive in comparison to staying within fifty miles of Daniel Macintyre.

 

*“You’re the best friend that I ever had

I’ve been with you such a long time.’*

 

“Not actually that long Danny, though it feels like it sometimes.”

 

“I’m trying to be sincere here Jack, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Sorry darling, sing on.”

 

*‘You’re my sunshine and I want you to know

That my feelings are true, I really love you

You’re my best friend.’*

 

They stand looking at each other intensely as the music dies away, then suddenly embrace and kiss passionately. At this point, the audience as one, rise to their feet, but wild stares from Ally and Lily make them sit down again and start applauding rapturously, while nervously glancing at the huge leather clad bikers guarding the exits.

 

~The end  :)

 

~Invest today, collect tomorrow; your money is in SAFE hands!

 

‘Briinngg...bring!!’  (Danny’s cell phone rings)

 

 “Hello...oh, hello Mr Mass Murderer Mafia Man...(Gulp) yes, I’ll have the money I owe you any day now. No...don’t inform Jack, please, I promise, I’ll get the money!”

 

 

“Everything alright Danny, who was that on the phone?”

 

“Just a friend,” Danny slipped his arm through Jacks and gazed up at him, “Jack, how would you feel about waking up to find a horse’s head on your pillow?”

 

“Whose horse have you accidentally beheaded Danny, and why have you put it in our bed, I want to know, at once, do you hear me?”

 

“I haven’t touched any horses Jack, I promise, not directly anyway, I was being metaphorical, maybe even hypothetical, possibly even theoretical.”

 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this Danny, one way or another.”

 

“Don’t you always Jack, don’t you always, and it’s not fair, none of it was my fault...”

 

 

Songs featured:

 

~Bicycle Race....Freddie Mercury(1978)

~Save Me....John Deacon(1975)

~Another One Bites The Dust...John Deacon(1980)

~You’re My Best Friend...John Deacon(1975)

~Flash...Brian May...(1980)

 

 

N.B. Please don’t sue me for unauthorised use of lyrics, as I haven’t got any money, and besides if you take me to court, I’ll just enter a plea of insanity, and the judge knows me, I’ve been in front of him before, which surprised him, because he was piloting a light aircraft over the White Cliffs Of Dover at the time. Dame Vera looked a bit taken aback as well, but at least she paid me for washing the windscreen!  Incidentally, the White Cliffs Of Dover are actually far from white, they’re filthy, it’s shameful; somebody ought to wash them.

 

 

Copyright…insane productions 2009-2015