Part 1
Manage episode 447462524 series 3611577
NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE
Words + Music by Geordie McElroy
***
Part 1
What is the color of Christmas?
The white of untouched snow?
The green of a Douglas Fir
Or ceaseless mistletoe?
Could it be the red of stockings?
Or yule-log’s golden breath?
No. The color of Christmas is black
Black of a moonless winter's night
The black of coal in the abyss
The black of death
***
Koopman’s Department Store presents:
The 12 Days of Christmas
Grand Parade to city conveyed
This season big business
Announcer from Channel Thirteen
Mic picked up howling wind
Nor’easter of the century
From Greenland rolling in
Each float branded to perfection
Each with a sponsored theme
Franzenstein gingerbread houses
Toscani nativity scenes
They rolled along 34th street
Up to Koopman’s revolving door
Where Steve and his wife Portia throned
King and Queen of the store
A masterpiece of art nouveau
Engulfing block, tower
Dazzling retail cathedral
Where hard won coin showered
The windows full of season’s displays
Gorgeous crystalline glass
Each winter fantasies
Available for cash
Announcer spoke up: “Here she comes
It’s Mercedes Koopman
Steve and Portia’s only daughter
With her vocal debut”
The pre-teen rode high on a float
Promoting her own brand
Hawking neon fast fashion
And song without a band
Just as Mercedes started up
Before her vocals dropped
Announcer said: “Wait… here comes Santa Claus?
And he’s coming in hot”
Santa revved red convertible
Madness flashed in his eyes
He aimed full speed for Koopman’s store
Mercedes forced to dive
The crash destroyed the singer’s float
As Santa stripped his clothes
Revealing a Satan suit beneath
To the crowd he exposed
Something from out of his waistband
From crotch depth fustiness
He waved it around and yodeled:
“The hammer of justice!”
With hardware Santa Claus screaming:
“You bourgeois pigs must die
This one goes out to you, my Pearl”
Blue-haired girl averted eyes
He raised the groin-secreted tool
Shattered Koopman’s displays
Screamed about theory of labor
And radical cliches
Christian protestors turned their backs
So-called allies turned tail
Couldn’t even rally the winos
Alone, his riot failed
Just then, behind them, explosion
Mercedes float caught fire
Her fast fashion went up in flames
Sizzling cheap attire
And yet, her vocals still running
Spinning like an axle rod
Santa screaming: “Revolution!”
Wrangled by cattle prod
The nor’easter winds blew wicked
Toppling cameras smashed
As cops hauled off Santa Claus
Video cut to black
***
In dungeon cell at lighthouse foot
The darkest part of town
Orphan Noel’s dead-hour vigil
As beam spun round and round
Thirteen years through bars and barbed wire
St. Nick's School's stagnant view
The dump, trash barges, and canneries
But tonight… Something new?
Out in black harbor, an unmanned ship
Lurched on storm from the north
It rammed into rotting pilings
Impaled itself on wharf
Figure in seal furs rowed life raft
Into a shadowed drain
Where the refuse of the city spewed
The gaping sewer main
***
Noel sang her hopes of Christmas
Gnawing wait made her sick
She longed to be at the North Pole
Re-connect with St. Nick
The 25th was her birthday
Only 12 days away
When she would graduate from here
Head home on reindeer sleigh
As long as she could remember
Noel pursued one goal:
To be the best in the stable
To work and do as told
Her dream, making St. Nick shine
To bask in his glow cast on her
She was willing to die for him
Her lord and her master
Dozing orphans surrounded Noel
Chained to cots in the dark
Noel kept warm in the bitter stone cell
Hope providing the spark
Youngest Chloe’s teeth chattering
"The Pole is much colder"
Noel said, giving up blanket
"You'll see when you're older"
“St. Nick needs help on the line
Toil bitter, burlap thin
He has no time to tend to you
Your fire must burn within”
Their conversation echoed out
Waking up Harriet
For Chancellor Remmy she screamed
With hate and despair in it
Remmy entered, pince-nez and coif
Paisley smoking jacket
Even at this witching hour
Simply immaculate
“Now, now, girls you need your rest
So please, let’s squash it
We need you all to look your best
St. Nick’s always watching”
Remmy gestured to the cell wall
Icon of a Cossack
“St. Nick knows if you’re sleeping sound
If you comply or talk back”
The painting showed a savage man
Dropping stash, fangs of gold
Shaved head with topknot hanging down
And jade eyes, tundra cold
With hushed purring of a camera
The Cossack’s gaze feeding
Remmy said as he was leaving
Above orphans breathing
“Try as you might, he may flunk you
Dolores never slacked
But Nick found her in the lantern room
Now she’s buried out back”
***
Lt. Dunn arrived at the wharf
Screamed at harbor patrol
Snuffed his smoke into their coffee
And ganked their donut holes
“Tow this vessel across state lines
Out of our jurisdiction”
“I know the plan, I've done it before
It's stuck in this position”
“A rotten way to start the day”
Dunn slugged rum for warming
“Colder than a boo hag’s coochie
What’s what? Inform me”
“She's an ex-Soviet vessel
Rusted and putrid green
Cyrillic writing down her flank
‘North Star’ it seems it means”
“The crew is nowhere to be found
Captain’s chained to the wheel
He’s burned beyond recognition
As to how, it’s not clear”
“There’s no hint of gasoline
Or any accelerant”
“Terrorism? Bio-attack?”
Something malevolent?”
They led Dunn to the cargo hold
And stared into darkness
Bone upon bone way down below
Countless beast carcasses
Flashlight flickered, pyramids stacked
As Dunn asked, “Is that horse?”
“Caribou. The other red meat”
Corpse upon reindeer corpse
***
At 4am the orphans woke
To storm bell clattering
And gathered round for daily routine
In burlap sacks unflattering
Noel set her course on Polaris
And worked with diligence
The only thing more impressive
Was Harriet’s vigilance
Noel strove to be the best
St. Nick’s number one girl
So Harriet hated her guts
Her face and all those curls
The laziest orphan at the school
Harriet, 13, too
St. Nick had room for one top girl
Noel just would not do
Revenge filled Harriet’s day dreams
Slights real and imagined
Waited for Noel to slip up
Spite, her only passion
Remmy spoke of North Pole visions
As girls ate cold fish gruel
He sipped champagne and lectured on
Manners of the old school
Dabbed his mustache with a napkin
Gave diatribes on forks
His knife work was spectacular
His banter fireworks
Taught what plate to anticipate
Which spoon they must use
Which bad habits would start to grate
Which cocktail glass to choose
“Soon you’ll dine on gum drop biscuits
And ginger bread porridge
Candy cane juice, sugar plum pies
North Pole’s standard forage”
Remmy’s lusted for finer things
Crates pilled high filled his room
Beamed up luxuries with deceit
On rocks ships met their doom
Stack upon stack contraband piles
Stores of delicacies
Seized from ship wrecks he salvaged
The false beams legacies
***
After breakfast, orphan hygiene
Freezing water stung them
Single basin for all to share
One toothbrush among them
Post washing came cell inspection
Tidy up cots and dress
Burlap sacks, straw mats worn threadbare
Hard not to look a mess
Then Remmy would walk down the line
“Grace starts with how you stand"
Examined smiles, clothes, and posture
But focused on their hands
“Those hands, those tiny orphan hands
Innocent and fragile
The engine of this operation
So nimble and agile”
***
Then it was time to work the line
Presses, pumps, and bellows
The orphans making ornaments
In reds, greens, and yellows
“Watch your tiny hands, my dears”
Engines, belts, and sprockets
“Once the machine is up to speed
There’s no way to stop it”
An ornament caught Noel’s eye
Made to adorn a tree
“If they look magnificent there
How good they’d look on me”
She hung a pair upon her ears
And searched her reflection
She struck a pose amongst some hose
Flashing bold impression
But Harriet caught her off guard
Too stealthy to be seen
Her rival tried to get revenge
Hand ground in the machine
But Noel smelled Harriet’s breath
Turned into crooked smile
A shove had her tumble on down
Ornaments defiled
Remmy screamed: “Noel, to the pit!
Think you can replace this?
You’ll have ample of time to think on
Your place and what grace is”
***
Noel stewed in the chamber of woe
With cold stone for a pillow
Thinking hard with damp and rot
Pondered peccadillos
Noel seethed and plotted revenge
A thought would not abate
Something she never felt before
A coldness known as hate
***
Back in Koopman’s duplex penthouse
The family stared aghast
Replaying Parade fiasco
A couple hours past
“Isidore Koopman, you fat slob!”
Portia shouted at her step-son
“You always ruin everything
A whole year’s work, undone”
Izzy squeezed into a love seat
Admiring his work
The shiftless 32 year old
Responded with a smirk:
“Christmas is bunk, a hollow lie
A mere capitalist fraud
Consciousness needed to be raised
I employed shock and awe”
“Koopman’s is a family affair
That’s why we hired you
Now the union is furious
What could have inspired you?”
“What do you mean you don’t know?
Everything confessed to
I laid it out elegantly
Didn’t you read my manifesto?”
“Do you mean that pile of scrap paper?
Those crayon scribblings?”
Flo the nanny said: “I read it
Not very convincing”
“You are nothing but a buffoon
You spoiled my parade
Befouled your sisters vocal debut
Shattered peerless displays”
“See those children down there below
They’re waiting for Santa
Each one represents cold hard cash
Please, tell us your plan to…”
“…Find a replacement for the man
This late in the season
The union is blackballing us
Hiring you, treason”
Portia departed with a sigh
Leaving father and son
“I’ll never give up on you, boy
There's still work to be done”
“So, tell me what’s next? What’s your plan?
You know I can’t fire you
What job is best for your passions
Tell me what inspires you”
“Izzy, what is it that you want?”
Steve asked his first-born son
“The only thing I crave: justice
Easier said than done”
“Koopman's is a family operation
Even if things get hard
How much damage could you get into
As security guard?”
***
Dunn arrived at the coroner
Gleaning information
“What the hell happened to captain?
Make identification?”
“His name is Ivan Tankenov
See this skull cross tattoo
Russian gangster? Or Thieves in law?
I'll bet cash that’s his crew”
“But the man wasn't set abalze
No ash or loss of mass”
The captain's arm fell to the floor
“…Well nothing accept for that”
“If he were...
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