The Merrye Comedie Of Lady Ferguson, Among The Pigeons

TOWN CRYER

Oh shit, forsooth! Oh shit! Thy readiness
Unequal is, to this. Forsooth! Oh shit!

DUTCHESS

When I dost come to the club, step aside.
Part thy seats! The line must not contain
mine august VIP, for I’ve much and yet to shine!
‘Tis Fergie Ferg; me love you long time. All
My girls get down on th’floor, back to back;
Drop down, real low.

(Aside)
For such a lady to
Go dancing, like a whore, who tells you this:
There is not a fuck left me to give.
So go, now, we on, into the night.

CHORUS OF FRENCH-BORN PROSTITUTES, BACK-TO-BACK, QUITE LOW

Pourquoi chaque fois que vous venez autour
Mon pont de Londres-Londres veut descendre?
Comme Londres-Londres-Londres, je veux
Aller, comme Londres-Londres-Londres,
Descendant

DUTCHESS

Drinks start pouring, one’s speech slurring,
And everyone, marry, begins looking good.
Grey Goose has thy girl feeling loose, though she
Dost wish that she were wearing different shoes.
Sooth! Most every time one gets upon the dew,
The paparazzi put one’s business in the news!

(Aside)
One thinks, to get them out’ve thine face one might
Turn ’round, and spray a common fool with Mace!
True, my lips doth make thee want a taste.
Know thee this at least? Hear now, I have the bass.

CHORUS OF FRENCH-BORN PROSTITUTES, IN TEARS AT THEIR COMMON TREATMENT

Pourquoi chaque fois que vous venez autour
Mon pont de Londres-Londres veut descendre?
Comme Londres-Londres-Londres, je veux
Aller, comme Londres-Londres-Londres,
Tristement!

FOOLS & BUSTAS Sing Out Extemporaneously, Pursued By DUTCHESS; Eventually Purchasing All These ICIES

DUTCHESS

When I dost come to the club, step aside.
Part thy seats, the line must not contain
mine august VIP, for I’ve much and yet to shine
‘Tis Fergie Ferg; me love you long time. All
My girls get down on th’floor…

LADIES-IN-WAITING, IN EVER-WORSENING FRENCH

Dos à dos, nous le laissons tomber
Avalons tomber, nous tombons vraiment bas.

DUTCHESS

(Aside)
For such a lady to
Go dancing, like a whore, who tells you this:
There is not a fuck left me to give.
So go, now, we on, into the night.

CHORUS OF PROSTITUTES, IN A MATTER-OF-FACT FASHION

Pourquoi chaque fois que vous venez autour
Mon pont de Londres-Londres veut descendre?
Comme Londres-Londres-Londres, je veux
Aller, comme Londres-Londres-Londres,
Apparemment!

WILBERFORTH ROSENKRANTZ, a FAKE BRITISH COMMONER In The Business Of MUSIC

Great track, oh, mate, loved it! Quality, pure quality, bro. Uh, what’s her name again?

SAMSON GEYSER, a FAKE BRITISH COMMONER In The Business Of MUSIC

What? Uh, oh, Samson. Uh, oh, Samson.

WIL.

No, not you, bro. What? The girl on the track.

SAM.

Fergie! My bad, brother, sorry, I didn’t mean to. I thought you meant my name, I was…

WIL.

No, not your name, Geyser, the fucking girl on the track, mate! It’s quality, pure quality. Listen, how does it go?

SAM.

Comme Londres-Londres.

WIL.

No, it’s not like that, mate, no. Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, London-London-London. That’s the best part.

SAM.

Londres-Londres?

WIL.

No, bro. London-London-London.

SAM.

D’accord. Londres-Londres.

FINIS

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