The Emperor’s New Clothes

SCENE ONE

THE TOWN SQUARE – MARKET DAY

Music cue 3: Chorus. After song ends…Chorus browse around stalls.

Enter Patches at a run [SR]

PATCHES: Hiya boys and girls! My name’s Patches, and I’m a Royal Valet. I used to be a Royal Jester, but I gave it because everybody kept laughing at me. But I’ve decided to keep my jester’s catchphrase. So, whenever you hear me shout how’s it going!? I want you all to reply, perfect Patches! Let’s try it shall we? [exits and re-enters] How’s it going? Wonderful! I’m actually valet to Emperor Fancypants, who is totally obsessed with clothes and wears more outfits in a day than a catwalk supermodel. But the cost of his obsession, is bankrupting the kingdom. So, the Chancellor has decided that Prince Jacquard must marry a rich heiress in order to restore the kingdom’s fortunes. Two heiresses are arriving today, and I’ve been sent to meet them and take them to the palace to meet the prince. They should be arriving any minute now.

Enter Heiresses Damask and Percale [SL] singing.

HEIRESSES: ‘Come on over to our place. Hey boys we’re having a party…’

PATCHES: [to audience] These two look like advance troops for a Halloween hen party.

PERCALE: [to Patches] What are you gawping at, mush?

DAMASK: He’s obviously mesmerised by our breath-taking beauty.

PERCALE: That’s because we look like marble statues of Greek goddesses.

PATCHES: [aside to audience] Ancient and crumbling.

DAMASK: We’re like a breath of fresh air blowing away the cobwebs of mediocrity.

PERCALE: Seriously sexy social media superstars in an otherwise plain and boring world.

PATCHES: I once bought a book on social media, but I never Reddit. [laughs]

DAMASK: I’m a top influenza on Instagram.

PATCHES: I wouldn’t go spreading that around if I were you.

PERCALE: I sometimes worry that TikTok is taking over my life.

PATCHES: The only tick tock you need to worry about, is your body-clock.

DAMASK: It’s hard to believe I’m still single and fancy free, isn’t it? Although it hasn’t been for the lack of offers, I can tell you.

PERCALE: Every day she offers to marry some random bloke and gets turned down.

DAMASK: You can talk. You’ve been turned down more often than bedsheets.

PERCALE: [vamping Patches] I’ll bet you wouldn’t turn me down, would you handsome?

PATCHES: I could probably force myself, too.

DAMASK: I almost married a Prince once. But then Kate Middleton turned his head by using witchcraft or something.

PATCHES: If you’ll excuse me ladies, I’m waiting for two rich heiresses.

PERCALE: We’re two rich heiresses.

PATCHES: What are your names?

PERCALE: I’m Percale Pampers, heir to a nappy empire.

DAMASK: And I’m Damask Dulux, heir to a paint products dynasty.

HEIRESSES: And we’re best friends forever!

PATCHES: I’m Patches and I’ve been sent to take you both to the royal palace.

PERCALE: Are you a taxi driver?

PATCHES: No, I’m the royal valet.

DAMASK: You clean the royal limos?

PATCHES: I’m not that kind of valet.

PERCALE: What kind are you then?

PATCHES: I go for the Emperor.

DAMASK: Why – can’t he go for himself?

PERCALE: Most men have that problem eventually.

PATCHES: It means I fetch and carry for him.

DAMASK: Then hurry up and carry us to the palace!

PERCALE: I hear Prince Jacquard is desperate to get married, so we’re perfectly matched.

PATCHES: I doubt he’s that desperate.

DAMASK: Once he sees me, he’ll fall in lust and want to marry me right away.

PERCALE: Dream on dear. It’s me he’ll want to take up the aisle.

DAMASK: Oh no, he won’t!

PERCALE: Oh yes, he will!

DAMASK: You’re ugly!

PERCALE: You’re uglier!

DAMASK: I hate you!

PERCALE: I hate you more!

PATCHES: I thought you said you were best friends forever?

HEIRESSES: We are!

DAMASK: She’ll be my chief bridesmaid when I marry the Prince.

PERCALE: And when I marry him, she can carry my train.

DAMASK: I’d rather throw you under one. [laughs]

PERCALE: Likewise, I’m sure. [laughs]

PATCHES: This way…ladies?

Exit Patches and Heiresses [SR]

Enter Nip and Tuck [SL] Tuck carries a large sack.

TUCK: Right Nip, you distract the stallholders while I sneak their stuff into this sack.

NIP: Okay, Tuck. What kind of stuff will you be nicking then?

TUCK: All sorts.

NIP: Oh, lovely. The pink ones are my favourite.

TUCK: I don’t mean Liquorice Allsorts! I mean all sorts of stuff!

NIP: Try and nick me a ladies’ handbag while you’re at it.

TUCK: A ladies’ handbag! Is there something you want to tell me, Nip?

NIP: It’s mum’s birthday tomorrow, and I promised I’d nick her a nice prezzie.

TUCK: I’ll see what I can do.

NIP: It was mum who taught us how to nick stuff without being caught, wasn’t it?

TUCK: Yeah – shame she got herself nicked breaking into that garden centre.

NIP: Do you think somebody grassed her up?

TUCK: Yeah, it was probably some little weed with a grudge.

NIP: I once nicked some artificial grass from there and it died after a week.

TUCK: How? Its only pretend grass!

NIP: I forget to pretend to water it.