a squeaky clean opera

A Squeaky Clean Opera

Translated and adapted from the opera Gianni Schicchi

Florence, 1299.

The noble Donati family has gathered at their ancestral villa.

Simone Donati, the former mayor of Fuccechio. .

.~~Cypress Vetinari, the Vetinari Dualegacy.

Zita Donati, the most terrifying woman in Florence. . .

~~Uranium Apocalypso, Apocalypso a Go Go

Gherardo and Nella Donati, and their son, Gherardino. . .

~~~Rhys Fitzhugh, Fitzhugh Legacy.Kirstial Legacina, Pseudo Legacy.Gaius Caesar, Ten Caesars Legacy

. . . and Rinuccio Donati.

~~Secundus Marius.

The owner of the villa, the wealthy Buoso Donati, lies dying, and the relatives have gathered to comfort his last hours. . .or to find out who has inherited his money.

Flavius Marius: Are you serious, Prof? I'm playing a dead body?

Look at it this way, Flavius. It's not a demanding role. And to be honest, there are some things you can only ask a husband to do.

Flavius: But how am I supposed to Meet Somebody New if I'm dead?

Uranium: Poor Cousin Buoso.

Rhys: Oh, poor Uncle Buoso! I'm going to cry for days. Make that weeks. Or months.

Kirstial: Poor Uncle Buoso. I'm going to cry forever.

Does my hair look all right?

Rhys: Poor Uncle Buoso! Kirstial: Poor Uncle Buoso! Cypress: I suppose he IS dead?

Uranium: Clearly. Simone, I've heard some stories. . . perhaps Buoso didn't leave us the money after all. Rhys: He wouldn't. Uranium: He might. What do we do?

Cypress: If his will is with a lawyer, there isn't much we can do. BUT---if it's still in this room. . . We ought to find that will as quickly as possible. Rhys: You mean something could happen to the will? Cypress: I mean WE could happen to the will. At least we’ll know.

Rhys: It's not here.

Secundus: Hmm. Maybe. . .

Secundus: I have it! I found Uncle Buoso's will!

Uranium: Well, thank you, Rinuccio, and I'll just be taking that now. Secundus: Not so fast, Aunt Zita. If I hand over the will, and if we're all going to be rich, you have to promise me that I can marry the girl I love. . .

. . . Lauretta, the daughter of Gianni Schicchi.

~~~Cecilia Goodytwoshoes.

Secundus: I want to marry her on May Day. Uranium: It's summer already. The Professor has the neighborhood set to summer until her Landlubber's Challenge is over. You'd have to marry her yesterday. Secundus: That was the idea.

Uranium: Oh, fine. If we really are rich, then you can marry whoever you want to. . . . Idiot.

Secundus: Gherardino, run as fast as possible to Gianni Schicci's house and tell him to bring his daughter Lauretta. Tell him Rinuccio Donati sent you. Tell him I need to see him right away. And wait for them and bring them back here. And I want to hear that you were polite. Gaius: Oh yeah? And why should I, fathead?

Secundus: Because your Uncle Fathead is going to give you enough money to buy so much candy you'll explode.

Gaius: YAY CANDY YAY.

Cypress: To my cousins, Zita and Simone . . .

Uranium: Well, that's a good start, isn't it?

Rhys: Are we at the part where we’re rich yet?

Rhys: What?

Uranium: What?

Cypress: MONKS. Uranium: What? Cypress: He left all of it to the monks!

Kirstial: What?

Secundus: What?

Rhys: Stupid candle. Stupid monks.

Kirstial: Who do those monks think they are?

Uranium: Yeah. Leaving his money to a religious charity. Buoso must have lost his mind.

Cypress: Hah hah! I just was thinking. . .

Those are going to be the fattest monks in Italy!

Rhys: I can see it now. Big dinners, first class wine cellar, pointing at us on the street and laughing. "There go the Donati, they actually thought they'd get Buoso's fortune." Pretty funny, when you think about it!

Uranium and Cypress: AHAHAHAH SNORT HEE HEE SNORT HEE HEE NO I'M GOOD NOW HEE HEE.

Uranium, Cypress & Kirstial: Wahhh!!! Kirstial: Who knew when Uncle Buoso died. . . Uranium: . . . that we'd be crying for real?

Secundus: Sigh. I guess I'll never be able to marry Lauretta now. Unless. . .

Secundus: Well, it's obvious what we have to do. There's only one person in Florence who can help us now. Rhys: Really? Cypress: Who? Secundus: Gianni Schicchi.

Uranium: If I hear the name "Gianni Schicchi" one more time, someone is going to regret it. Deeply

Gaius: Here comes Gianni Schicchi. Candy. NOW

Rhys: Gherardino, you know you can't punish children in the Sims 2. Gaius: Nyah nyah I know. Rhys: Which is TOO BAD.

Secundus: It's my fault. I sent for him.

Rhys: Where did you meet the Schicchi family, anyway?

Secundus: Oh, you know. Out hunting. Lost falcon. The usual thing.

Rhys: The Schicchi cheat at chess. Secundus: Gherardo, we have one nice point apiece. We ALL cheat at chess. Rhys: Peasant girls. Pffft. Cypress: We know what they're like. Secundus: I never, ever want to hear you say that again, Gherardo. We're family: don't make me call you out.

Secundus: She's extremely shy.

Kirstial: The Schicchi are nobodies! No one ever heard of them before Gianni Schicchi showed up here. He's a farmer from Fiesole. Secundus: The Medicis were newcomers once, too, and now they're popes.

Secundus: You're completely wrong about him. For one thing . . .

Secundus: It's a very bad idea to get on his bad side.

Secundus: I wouldn't say it was easy getting him to trust me. He's very suspicious, but he's very clever, especially about money. If there's a legal loophole, he'll find it.

Secundus: Aunt Zita, we have nothing to lose. And I forgot to tell you~~

~~he's here.

Cecil: Ah. _____________________________

Gianni Schicchi. ~~Cecil Goodytwoshoes.

Cecil: Buoso's health has clearly improved.

Secundus: Dearest, I'm afraid it's bad news. Cecilia: What's wrong, Rino? Secundus: Uncle died, and that was bad enough, and now. . . . Cecilia: Your family? Secundus: It doesn't look good. Cecilia: Oh. . . That makes me sad.

Cecil: My condolences, Signora Donati. I sympathize with your loss.

Zita: You mean our loss of the money! Cecil: I did not, but that would explain your genuine wails of distress.

Zita: There's nothing here for you, you peasant, or for your gold-digging little daughter. Get her and get out!

Cecil: How dare you, madam. I would not permit any daughter of mine to marry your nephew if he were the last man on earth.

Secundus: But auntie, I love her.

Uranium: Not listening.

Cecil: Come, Lauretta. We are leaving this place and this appalling family.

Cecilia: But Papa, I love him. We want to go to Porta Rossa to buy the wedding ring.

Cecilia: I like him, Papa. Isn't he pretty?

Cecilia: And I know you can help, Papa.

Cecilia: Please?

Cecil: Sigh. Give me the will.

Cecil: Lauretta, I want you to go out on the terrace like a good little girl and feed the birdie.

Cecilia: Birdie! Chirp, chirp!

~~how did Papa know there was a birdie?

Cecil: Does anyone know yet that Buoso is dead?

Cypress: No. Cecil: Good. Cypress: What's that noise?

Uranium: It's the doctor! Cecil: Quick. Get the body out of here. Flavius: Hey!

Cecil: And I will make the bed. --Because you want to make it look as though Buoso isn't dead yet? Cecil: That, and my ten Neat points are making it unbearable not to.

Rhys: Oh, um. . . hi, Doctor. DoctorSupremeNerd: How is Buoso today? Rhys: Um. . . good?

DoctorSupremeNerd: And how does his pee look? You know how important pee is. Rhys: Um. . .it looks terrific? DoctorSupremeNerd: Nice try, Signior Donati, but I'm not impressed. I'm going to have to see Buoso and his pee for myself.

Uranium: Buoso is so much better, and he's resting. I'm sure you wouldn't want to disturb him while he's resting. DoctorSupremeNerd: I don't mind disturbing YOU while he's resting. I'm going to have to insist. Nooooo, Doctor. I'm soooo sleepy.

DoctorSupremeNerd: Buoso? Is that you? Are you really feeling better? Cecil: I feel like an entirely different person. Come back this evening, Doctor. DoctorSupremeNerd: Well. . . all right.

Secundus: Wow. You really sounded like Uncle Buoso.

DoctorSupremeNerd: Hmmm. I have the feeling that I may have missed something. But he definitely sounded healthier.

Cecil: I have it! The problem is solved. Don't you see? All: No. Cecil: I so dislike working with the intellectually challenged.

Cecil: This is what you do. You run to the notary. You say, "quick, Mr. Notary, Buoso Donati is dying. He needs to make his will."

The candles are doused. The room is dark. The notary sees a man in a nightgown.

Cecil: But naturally, it is not Buoso. It is I, the Schicchi himself, and I dictate the will with witnesses. . . .Is that satisfactory?

Cecil: ~~I presume it is. Uranium, Kirstial and Cypress: Yay! The Donati rule!

Kirstial: We'll show those monks! Cypress: Down with the monks! Uranium: *Sniff.* I love family togetherness.

Cecil: Perhaps I ought to explain the risks if something does not go according to plan. The penalty for forgery or being the accessory to forgery of a will is perpetual exile from Florence. .. . plus a small matter of cutting off the right hand. Kirstial: Exile? From our beautiful city? Cecil: And cutting off the right hand, yes. Kirstial: Let’s keep those risks down, then.

Cecil: Ah, yes. Perhaps it would be as well to ensure that we obtain the services of an exceptionally dull notary and some very unobservant witnesses. . . . I'm sure you will think of someone

Cecil: In the meantime, I must prepare.

Cecil: Yes, Signior Simone?

Cypress: My family wants everything in equal portions, but nobody mentioned the best bit. There's the sawmills at Signa, and this house. . . and of course, there's the mule.

Cecil: The mule. Cypress: It's fourteenth-century Florence, Cecil. A mule is a big deal. Go with it. . . . I'll offer you thirty Simoleans. Cecil: Thirty Simoleans. A very generous offer. I'll see what I can do.

Cecil: A hundred Simoleans. A very generous offer. I'll see what I can do.

Rhys: Heh heh. Nella may have mentioned something about the mills and this house. . .

Cecil: And the mule. Yes, she did.

Rhys: Well, Nella wouldn't know what to do with all that, now would she? . . . so I was thinking you could give me the mills and the house and the mule, and I could give you a thousand Simoleans. Cecil: A very generous offer. I'll see what I can do.

Uranium: Let me be clear about this. If you give me the house and the mills. . . Cecil: And, of course, the mule. Uranium: Of course. . . there is nothing I would not give you. Nothing.

Cecil: MADAM.

Cecil: Have you taken leave of your senses? I mean. . .

I'll see what I can do.

Perhaps.

Cecil: Douse the candles.

Cecil: And let in the notary. . .behind the screen, if you please.

Enter the most dim-witted notary in Florence and three unobservant witnesses.

What are you looking at me for?

Orikes: Poor Buoso. Ephemeral Toast: I always liked him. So sociable. Marina: Always wanting to Meet Someone New.

Now, what sort of funeral did you want, Messer Buoso? Something nice, I suppose? And a nice gift to the monks?

Cecil: No. . . don't waste money on the funeral. And please, not too much to the monks. Five Simoleans, perhaps. People do so gossip if you leave more.

Marina: Did he really say he wants a cheap funeral and to give practically nothing to the monks? Toast: I guess. Marina: Why?

Kirstial: Boring. Hurry up. Cecil: And leave the cash and all the property in equal parts to my dear, dear relatives. Except. . .

Uranium: Oh, now we're getting to the good bit.

Cecil: . . .the sawmills and the house, and of course, the mule. . .

Rhys and Kirstial: Yes? Yes?

Cecil: To my dear, dear friend. . . .

. . . Gianni Schicchi.

Uranium and Cypress: WHAT?

Rhys: What?

Kirstial: Nooooooo.

Cecil: Oh my goodness. I'm having a deathbed vision now.

Cecil: Alas, there is but one thing I regret about death, and that is saying GOODBYE to FLORENCE. FOREVER. Kirstial: I just HATE him. Cecil: Lalala FOREVER. I hate the way death means saying goodbye FOREVER, plus, of course, losing your HANDS.

 Cecil: Hah hah I'm extremely tired and I think I will go back to bed and die now. . . . oh, and Zita? Make sure to pay the notary and the witnesses?Generously.

What a wonderful person Buoso was. My sympathies

Orikes: My sympathies, Signior Donati. You must be very sorry to lose him. Rhys: You have no idea. Orikes: Come on, guys. Don't pillow fight in a house of mourning. It’s tacky.

Kirstial, Uranium and Cypress: YOU THIEF.

Rhys: Why us?

Cypress: You THIEF.

Cecil: Out of my house.

Kirstial: Oh, yeah? We hate you, Schicchi! Uranium: That's right, you lousy low class little thief! Kirstial: And we're going to take the stuff! Uranium: Grab the stuff on the way out!

Cecil: My house. Out.

Secundus: Lauretta? May I get your attention away from the birdie for a minute?

Cecilia: Oh, Rino! Papa fixed it, didn't he?

Secundus: Will you please marry me on May Day, just the way we planned?

Cecilia: Oh, Rino!~~ ~~wait. That's yesterday. Secundus: Yep.

Cecil: Do they appear to be happy?

Yes, they do.

Cecil: Ladies and gentlemen, the events you have just seen were enough for Dante to put me in the Inferno. Ah, well, such is life.

Cecil: But with all due respect to Master Dante, you don't believe such a thing, do you?

Cecil: And perhaps if you have been sufficiently diverted, you may wish to consider~~

~~extenuating circumstances.

~~Fine.

Translator's note: This is my own translation and adaptation of Giacomo Puccini's opera Gianni Schicchi. You almost certainly have heard some of the music. The aria "O mio babbino caro" is from this opera; it is sung by Lauretta to convince her father to help her and Rinuccio.

Many thanks to the authors on Boolprop.com whose simselves and legacy sims were borrowed for the cast:

Blite27, Ten Caesars: Flavius Marius, Gaius Caesar DoctorSupremeNerd, Vetinari Dualegacy, Cypress Vetinari and her simself Smoothiequeen, Fitzhugh Legacy, A Villainous Apocalypse: Rhys Fitzhugh and her simself Ephemeral Toast, Apocalypso A Go Go, Ugothlacy: Uranium Apocalypso and her simself Orikes, Pseudo Legacy: Kirstial Legacina and her simself Cecil, Cecilia, and Secundus Marius are from my own legacy. Set by SimsDesignAvenue; costumes by All-About-Style and the design team of The Dark

Project on MTS2. Cover picture: a view of the old Metropolitan Opera House, where Gianni Schicchi first

premiered; slide background, a lithograph of a design for the Old Met. SC Productions, MMXI.