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A Possible History of Michaelangelo
On The Front Burner
A Possible History of Michaelangelo
NTI Spring 2002
MICHAELANGELO: A young man in Italy. Michaelangelo, it should be understood, is not the famous Italian artist. He is Italian, a young man living in about the same time period, and an artist, but there should not be the issue of comparisons drawn between them.

SMALL MAN: A mysterious messenger.

CHORUSES: Variously Aliens, Passers-By, Shatners, Quarriers, and Media Buffoons.

 

Scene One: An Italian Piazza. It is night.

 

 

 

MICHAELANGELO

Why did you bring me here?

 

SMALL MAN

Shhhh.

 

MICHAELANGELO

This is ridiculous.

(Pause)

What time is it?

 

SMALL MAN

(Stares at the sky expectantly)

Shhh. Soon.

 

MICHAELANGELO

But you said?. I promised to be home before 10.

(Pause)

Who are we waiting for anyway?

 

SMALL MAN

You will not be sorry.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Oh, whatever.

 

Suddenly a light appears in the sky, and rushes down towards them. Amid tremendous mechanical noise, a ladder lowers onto the stage and a Chorus of Aliens descends.

 

SMALL MAN

(Having prostrated himself upon the ground)

Oh, here they are. Don?t stand there shading your eyes, it?s nighttime. (Pause) Dimwit.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Oh. Sorry.

 

CHORUS OF ALIENS

Ahhhkkb. Shlingy-ling-ling. Fashion Bug. Arcana ?v panna-doom-boom. (Coughs, clears throat, speaks with a clearly English accent) Ahhhhh, excuse me. This must be young Micky.

 

SMALL MAN

(Peers up from floor)

Ahhh, ahhhhh? (Nods).

 

CHORUS OF ALIENS

Hello, dear boy, hello. Fancy a crisp? (Offers) No? All right. But you?ll be the death of me (eats the crisp).

 

MICHAELANGELO

Um? do you? why am I here?

 

CHORUS OF ALIENS

That sounds like a personal question and you haven?t even introduced yourself yet.

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Approaches the Chorus of Aliens, extends his hand to the lead Alien, and touches palm to alien. He is suddenly lifted off the ground as his body convulses with painful spasms.)

Ach, yyyeeeeerrg. Fina-fina whomp.

 

The Alien Chorus collapses on the ground. The Small Man continues to cower on the ground. Michaelangelo slowly backs away. As he exits the belltower begins to ring. It rings eleven times.

 

SMALL MAN

What- whadda-whadda whoo?

 

(SMALL MAN looks around excitedly for something or someone, probably Michelangelo, approaches bodies of aliens, pokes at them, and when they do not move he cautiously looks around, then clamors aboard the spaceship. Many loud sounds of angry machines are heard, but after a minute or so the spaceship closes up and takes off, with SMALL MAN at the helm. After a moment, Michaelangelo enters, looking around cautiously. When he sees no one he sneaks onto the stage.)

 

MICHAELANGELO

Hello? Where are you? Where did you go? You can?t leave me alone out here, you know I don?t know my way back! YOU CAN?T LEAVE ME HERE!!! What am I supposed to do without anything at hand? I?ll have to go my own way! Without anything to guide me I?ll be like a ship without its sextant, wending a well-washed Whaler from pretty palm peppered port to port. Without anything to guide me, I might as well settle safely as a sanguine seller of cellophane noodles. Which don?t even taste like anything. Before long I?ll be all alone affecting an Auckland accent and wandering witless wherever whimsy wicks me. Oh, where do I go from here? Wait, stop. There must be an explanation. There must be an explanation.

 

Exit MICHAELANGELO. The Chorus of Aliens suddenly starts to moan, and after thrashing about for a bit they get up, shaken.

 

CHORUS OF ALIENS

Well. I?m glad that?s over. (Notices the lack of a spaceship) Oh damn and blast it all, some fandango?s wollied our go-go. Mum?s gonna kill me, I?ll be late for sure!

 

They exit. BLACKOUT. End scene.

 

Episode the Two. It is four years later. MICHAELANGELO is in his studio, messing with things. Although Great Art is scattered across the space, he handles a paintbrush and tube of paint clumsily, as if he doesn?t really know what he is doing. This should continue for at least half a minute.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Oh damn and blast it all! (Stops and catches himself as if he?s heard that phrase somewhere before, then continues.) Why do all of these paintings come from and where does everyone think that I?m responsible for them? I mean? oh violin twigs. I don?t know a chisel from Chianti! Proposition: My body having been inhabited by a spirit or perhaps power or at the very least an awareness of the artistic epitome. It then waking me, raising me up from sleep and dreams of the dead and dying which is/are like aliens, and taking me to my studio wherein it or they command my body to discourse, as they say, most eloquent music (catches himself again). Well, not music, but I understand me. Then, having finished (referring to a painting:) (finished? Something like this? Finished, in a night.) I not I retire calmly to my chamber once more to bask in the glowing gaze of my mind?s eye, and to forget all that I might remember of myself.

 

SMALL MAN enters. He has been listening the whole time.

 

SMALL MAN

Oh, fascinating!

 

MICHAELANGELO

And WHO THE HELL ARE you? I can?t even remember your name, all you do is sneak up on me unawares and make commentary on how I?m living my life. I remember that once you took me to get pizza. But that?s all, the whole night is like a blur, and I woke up in a marble quarry that looked as if it was a school project on sculpture and the human form. Studies of arms and legs, torsos without limbs and genitalia. And a man standing over me cursing in some obscure dialect.

 

SMALL MAN

You carved his stone.

 

MICHAELANGELO

No I didn?t! I don?t even know how to sculpt! I tried picking up a hammer and chisel once. I was confused and didn?t know what to do, but the first tap, hammer on chisel on marble, which I imagined would yield this immensely satisfying if somewhat gritty and grinding sensation, like when you accidentally bite down on a piece of sand and the crushing of rock with teeth gives you the goosebumps, in actuality resulted only in the unfortunate staining of a new shirt and pair of pants.

 

SMALL MAN

Chianti?

 

MICHAELANGELO

Yes of course Chianti. Why?

 

SMALL MAN

Mmmm.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Yes, it was quite a good vintage. Nubile, yet unique.

 

SMALL MAN

You don?t remember?

 

MICHAELANGELO

Of course I do, I was just saying how much I enjoyed it.

 

SMALL MAN

No, gnat-brain, the quarry. You don?t remember.

 

MICHAELANGELO

What could there be to remember? I must have gone to some caf?, that?s usually where my feet lead me when my mind?s gone off on its own, and absinthe has always been one of my weaknesses. I expect I found the sculpture garden fairly wild until I passed out. What?s there to remember.

 

SMALL MAN

Everything. You?ve forgotten everything. Maybe it?s the best for all. Who knows?

 

MICHAELANGELO

Certainly not I. (guffaws)

 

SMALL MAN

(Heatedly) Yes well that much is obvious!

 

MICHAELANGELO

I remember the aliens. (SMALL MAN looks at him sharply) And the spaceship. I remember that. And then? (Shudders) I can?t remember any more.

 

SMALL MAN

Then you DO remember!

 

MICHAELANGELO

No! No I don?t. I don?t remember a thing.

 

SMALL MAN

Pity, that?s when you?ll have most need of it.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Most need of what?

 

SMALL MAN

Hmmmm.

 

MICHAELANGELO

You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. (SMALL MAN has withdrawn into himself, and is huddled up muttering) Hello? Do you realize that? Oh, whatever.

 

BLACKOUT

 

Tertiary Episode. The interior of MICHAELANGELO?s apartment, small and not quite dirty enough to be called squalid. SMALL MAN is in a corner and it is fine if we don?t notice him. MICHAELANGELO certainly doesn?t. Lights up and the door slams open, MICHAELANGELO being pursued by a CHORUS OF MEDIA BUFFOONS.

 

CHORUS OF MEDIA BUFFOONS

How? Where? When do you learn? Who is your teacher? What is your secret? Why do you do it? Do you think you?re better than the rest? How do you feel about your latest exhibition?s reception? Is it true about you and Catherine de Medici? Do you lead a quiet life? How much time do you spend alone a day, on average? What do like to do when you?re alone? Why? Where? How?

 

MICHAELANGELO has tried to answer each of these questions but has been overpowered by the CHORUS, too loud and with flashes in his face. At last they are quiet and the last few flashes flash but he is sad and upset.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Out! Get out of here!!! No one can answer you, satisfy you. Not even me. Please just leave.

 

CHORUS OF MEDIA BUFFOONS

Such a big so-and-so, thinks he?s so great, going to the top, wants to be important, known, admired, known, wants to be seen, pity he?s so egotistical, so pompous, so puffed. Seems like such a nice guy. Pity he?s so good.

 

They exit. MICHAELANGELO heaves a sigh of relief and turns away from the door.

 

SMALL MAN

(Without enthusiasm) They love you.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Jesus! (SMALL MAN nods) You scared me!

 

SMALL MAN

They love you.

 

MICHAELANGELO

But they don?t know what they?re doing? what they?re talking about. I don?t even know what I?m talking about. I don?t know what I?m doing.

 

SMALL MAN

Oh, you know.

 

MICHAELANGELO

No I don?t.

 

SMALL MAN

You know.

 

MICHAELANGELO

And who are you anyways? You haunt me like a wicked conscious (catches himself again, as if he?d heard it somewhere before). You appear like out of nowhere. You speak but nothing comes out. And over the past two years you have almost managed to convince me that you know something substantial about my past.

 

SMALL MAN

What I know. I know.

 

MICHAELANGELO

No kidding. Why do you follow me? What is it that you want? When will you?. Where do you come from when you appear out of nowhere in my apartment or my studio? Where? why do you keep finding me? Who are you? What-how do we know each other?

 

SMALL MAN

I know. You know not you. Not you knows. Not you knows.

 

MICHAELANGELO

See, what do? oh forget it. I?m making pasta. (Facetiously) Would you like any? I have plenty. I?d be happy to give you some. You can take it back to wherever it is you go to and it will cleanly disappear off of your plate and into your stomach like some nightmare of Neuman?s.

 

SMALL MAN

All things are possible.

 

MICHAELANGELO

This much has become obvious to me: A better cause, definition, explanation for greeting happily individual joys. Knowing lightly man, nay omni perpetually qualifies, restricts, still teaches undermining visionary wisdom, Xanthippe yoked zealously. Wait. Where did any of that come from?

 

SMALL MAN

It came. It comes.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Have you ever in your life formed a sentence that made any kind of explicit sense?

 

SMALL MAN

I am not on your path.

 

MICHAELANGELO

I need to gain understanding. I need to. They came to-me to day. I mean, they came to me today. I didn?t know what to tell them so I just said yes. I mean, it will make my life easier. I will not have to worry. Right? All they want is a sculpture. That can?t be that hard. I can do a sculpture. I can do a sculpture. I am a great artist. (Proudly) I am a Great Artist.

 

SMALL MAN

You know nothing. When you get where you are going you will ask where you were.

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Hurt, defensive) You just say that! You don?t know what you?re talking about! I?m a great man! I know where I?m going. I know. People like you always attack people with real talent, does it make you feel better? (Looks around like he?s heard something) You can?t know what it?s like.

 

Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, MICHAELANGELO flips out. It should become apparent that, for him, SMALL MAN has disappeared.

 

Wait, where?d you go? Wait, come back! You?re scaring me!!! I don?t know what to do? is that it? Are you trying to teach me some sort of lesson? Is this your idea of a joke? Why are you doing this to me? Come back. I need you to come back. I don?t know what I?m doing, I don?t know what I?m doing. I feel like I?m Toto and a silver man with a hatchet and an anatomically incorrect doll filled with dry grass are watching me chase a big cat around an unnaturally green wood. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do???

 

MICHAELANGELO does not see SMALL MAN as he speaks his line.

 

SMALL MAN

David.

 

Blackout.

 

Of all the scenes in this play, this is the fourth. It takes place on a piazza. It is afternoon. Behind MICHAELANGELO is The David, covered by a large sheet for its unveiling. SMALL MAN stands between The David?s legs, miraculously unseen by the CHORUS OF SHATNERS.

 

MICHAELANGELO

What do I tell them now?

 

SMALL MAN

You wish to know from whence came their deep-knowledge of car handling. No. You wish to show them man. You wish to show them man.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Um. Ladies and gentlemen! I would like to show you Man!

 

His gesture was intended to be grand, but MICHAELANGELO?s just not a grand person. The sheet falls from the sculpture, and everyone, including MICHAELANGELO, gasps.

 

CHORUS OF SHATNERS

Ingenious. It?s beautiful. Who would?ve known, we only wanted a rendition, or an imitation at best, but this is something else altogether. Insightful in its density, it manages to show us glory in the most humble way. David, the poor peasant shepherd, picked by GOD to become one of the fathers of the Holy Church. The picture of innocent humility, and here he towers above us as the epitome of artistic expression and innovation.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Yes, well. It?s not that good. I mean, I could always do better. Given more time. You know.

 

CHORUS OF SHATNERS

Oh no, David is perfect, he speaks to us, he tells us his story and our own all in the drape of his hand.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Really? I thought it was rather stiff?.

 

SMALL MAN

Shut up, you idiot!

 

MICHAELANGELO

Oh, sorry.

 

CHORUS OF SHATNERS

Excuse me? No, speak again! Quiet, the genius speaks!

 

MICHAELANGELO

What me? Oh? no, don?t mind me. I?m just? over here.

 

SMALL MAN

Talk to them, they wish to hear you!

 

MICHAELANGELO

Well, ahem, yes, of course, it was a long and grueling process. My hands were blistered for days but I just couldn?t stop you know, when something like this possesses you, you know, there?s just no controlling it.

 

CHORUS OF SHATNERS

Ohh!

 

MICHAELANGELO

Why yes, of course, I had to take the occasional break, sip a Chianti, but you can?t escape from something like this, and before long I?d be back at it again, hammer and chisel and marble and man. Well, men. There were two of us there, really. (snickers)

 

SMALL MAN shakes his head or slaps his forehead or something.

 

CHORUS OF SHATNERS

You overwhelm us. You are a dream, a vision, a place to discover? that which has been lost. You are a channel for human desires and he (gestures to the David) is your soul.

 

MICHAELANGELO

My goodness well, thank you. (Uncomfortable pause?) Ah? so the reception will be at the Doge, and you?re all welcome if you?d like to come with me.

 

Exeunt all but SMALL MAN.

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Playwright?s note: ? And this is where it starts to get bad. I had to write and turn in a 30 or so page play and didn?t have remotely enough time. Most of what follows is rubbish but I?m leaving it in regardless. The stuff that I think is worthwhile is in bold italics. The plot must be completely re-thought out. I didn?t really know where I was going but I have a better idea now. As soon as I?ve made substantial enough revisions, I?ll post a new version. ?Cusp.

 

 

SMALL MAN

Numbskulls. Perhaps I have chosen a-wrong. This manimal is in no ways like to that for which I seek. He speaks and they listen the likes of which they have never known. The others must know. We must finish and know their path. I am not on his, are they on ours?

 

BLACKOUT, SMALL MAN speaks from the darkness.

 

And perhaps it is time for them. We have waited long enough. It is past the waiting place and come to the point of flash, and he is the nexus. If he cannot then perhaps others can, but there is not the time to wonder at these as they pass, uncertain as all things in the flow. If the others decide against them, what will be done is what must be done. No caring if this has not been enough already. No informing if not enough is known. They have what they need and it is for them to see. If they do not then it is for us to take. To take. Why did I choose such a fool?

(INSERT SONNET HERE)

 

End scene.

 

Scene V, at the initial Piazza. It is nighttime again, and SMALL MAN skitters about fretfully.

 

SMALL MAN

Why do they not come? Why? I have made them know, but they are not here. And haste is needed. Haste. I know not the cause, my soul, (stops, shakes his head violently) NO! but it shall be found out. I know haste is needed. I know. Fills me to the cusp with anticipation. They are all that is needed. And they are needed. When we speak, it will be clear what to do, what to do about these problems. (CHORUS OF PASSERS-BY passes by) These problems.

 

Enter Michaelangelo, on a promenade, presumably. He wanders out.

 

And what about him? He was merely the subject. He was merely the object. There is nothing phenomenal, nothing definable, quantifiable on his head. All is me, all is us. We admire but we cannot grasp, so we will venerate in passing. That is how it is with us. How it was and will be. We came before and all went so well. We showed them the path. We showed them the way. For them the way led here (he gestures about him) and it has been here that the way has been lost. And now all things go amiss and what is worse, I know not why. They will know. They will help. We will decide. And these problems will be? solved.

 

He looks around expectantly, obviously waiting. A light appears in the sky, a la le premiere scene. Blackout.

 

End scene.

 

The Scene of the Beast. MICHAELANGELO rushes around the stage. He is covered with paint and white dust reminiscent of plaster. He paints, sculpts, stops for a quick gulp of wine and continues around the stage. He can only work on one project for a matter of moments before he is pulled on to another. Perhaps he paints on an invisible canvas as he speaks to the audience.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Here, and here. Oh, just a touch (touches up sculpture). Can?t be done, can?t be done. Just a moment more. Where is it? Where? There! I?ve got it! Take it and go, take it and go like they did down there all those years ago! Just when you think it can?t be taken any further, just when it seems like you?ve reached the end of the road a way inevitably opens up and what seemed to be a blockade becomes a highway. And you are zipped along from end to end and before you know it you?ve reached another stop and it feels like this is finally it, this is the place where I?ll never get out of. And my journey will come to a slow and inevitable stop as my momentum carries me, like water in a carelessly designed aquaduct, back and forth, until ultimately I?ll rest inconsequentially at a low place. And then I?ll spill over the edge and be forgotten as I soak into the soil. But somehow, things never come to such an easy aesthetic, moral, and logical conclusion. But like some sort of absurd Pendulum I never rest at the bottom, something kicks me back up and keeps me from settling, comfortably, at the logical, the lowest place. And I am forced to go on, I feel an urge to go on, and before I know what I?ve gotten into, one piece is finished but another is half done in my head or somewhere equally or more real. And I can?t let it live there, it can?t stay there, it has to live as I do.

 

He suddenly collapses on the floor in convulsions, then lies still for a beat or two. Then he stirs and gets up, shakes himself off.

 

Wh-, ow, my head hurts. Whew, I must have passed out. Probably left the cap off the thinner again. Ohhh? my head. I feel like I?ve been wandering the desert. What a wild dream. Those fumes get to me. Make me feel like I?m not myself.?

 

End scene.

 

The Holy Scene. MICHAELANGELO?S studio. He is waiting impatiently as scene begins, and a moment later the CHORUS OF QUARRIERS arrives. They are obviously who he has been waiting for. They are from South Jersey.

 

CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

So? should we just leave the rock outside?

 

MICHAELANGELO

The rock? If by rock you mean the best Italian marble available, well then no, please bring it in. Carefully.

 

CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

I guess it?s marble. Sure, why not. I mean, it?s gray and speckled, right?

 

MICHAELANGELO stares at them in disbelief.

 

MICHAELANGELO

No. It should be almost pure white. Perhaps a vein of gray here or there, but certainly not speckled.

 

CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

Well, we?ve got what we?ve got. Don?t kill the messenger. Or the deliverers, for that matter. You want it or not.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Yeah, I mean, sure. Why not? It?s not like I?m paying for it, it?s the government?s going to foot the bill. Maybe something good?ll come of it.

 

CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

Yeah, whateva buddy. Here you go. (they bring in the stone. It is large and cubical, but is obviously not really rock. I mean that the audience should be aware that it is not rock.)

 

MICHAELANGELO

You may go now.

 

CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

Yeah, screw you buddy.

 

Exit CHORUS OF QUARRIERS

 

MICHAELANGELO

What a shame. And how am I supposed to do anything with this? It?s? low temperature bonded granite. I couldn?t sculpt this even if I knew how. What exactly does it say about me that I continue to live in this strange dream? I am living consciously a kind of schizophrenic half-life. If I weren?t a Great Artist they would send me away to an Institute and they would study me, not my art. Sometimes I hear voices. And somehow in the dark of the night another part of me emerges like a ghost and performs miracles, which I take almost entirely for granted. (He picks up a chisel and taps at the rock. A large chunk falls off and nearly falls on him.) Woah! Stupid quarriers, I could have been killed.

 

Playwright?s Note: If you?ve liked this play up until now, stop reading here. The rest really is crap. ?Cusp.

 

SMALL MAN

No.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Ah!!! Oh, it?s you.

 

SMALL MAN

It is me. And time is running out.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Huh? Are you talking nonsense again old man?

 

SMALL MAN

SHUT UP! Listen. Time is running out.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Jesus! Okay, but?

 

SMALL MAN

YES! That is it! Do you not see?

 

MICHAELANGELO

What is it? I don?t understand you. I never have.

 

SMALL MAN

You need not understand, only listen to your own works.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Uh, okay. I don?t really understand. You know that I don?t know what all this art is all about. I do it, I guess, but I don?t know where it comes from.

 

SMALL MAN

YOU KNOW! It has been three years! You must! Last time he knew from our first visit.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Now you really are talking crazy. What do you mean last time? And what did he know? And who the hell are you talking about?

 

SMALL MAN

That cannot be told. This is your final chance. This is all you have.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Final chance for what?

 

SMALL MAN

You hold many in your hands. And neither you nor they know it.

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Mockingly) And what must I do?

 

SMALL MAN

See. With the eyes you have been given. Rise.

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Stands) Hmm, things don?t seem that much different from up here?.

 

SMALL MAN

DO YOU SEE NOTHING!?!??! (He slaps MICHAELANGELO very hard. Light shift. Action freezes. MICHAELANGELO should look like Christ on the cross, and SMALL MAN like the centurion pushing his spear into Jesus? side. Then everything reverts to normal.)

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Gasping for breath) Oh I see. I see. I saw then and things are so much clearer to me now. You are why I have the gift.

 

SMALL MAN

You see clearly. Will you do it?

 

MICHAELANGELO

(Stops and thinks) No. No I won?t do it. I will not fool people as they were fooled before. As I have been fooled myself. I won?t.

 

SMALL MAN

You will.

 

MICHAELANGELO

I won?t. I won?t I won?t. I refuse! We are as we are and I as your chosen ambassador refuse your assistance, your prodding. Things will happen as they are wont to.

 

SMALL MAN

But so much awaits you!

 

MICHAELANGELO

Then let it! Let it wait! There it will be when the time comes and we are ready. Forcing it down our throats will make it come back up that much more forcefully. And in your face.

 

SMALL MAN

You will not have another chance.

 

MICHAELANGELO

What do you mean? When, in due course, we come to a point where we are ready, as a whole, to know what you are trying to force upon us, we will know it, and it will be good. Only evil springs from unearned knowledge.

 

SMALL MAN

You know not what you speak. You have no more chances. You are the last chance. Do you remember the Piazza?

 

MICHAELANGELO

No, but I know. I know. You have given me what I need to see what you do and know your memory. I remember the Piazza. Through your eyes. And your thoughts. And if for a moment you thought it would be that easy, then I am glad you will meet the fate you will, and soon.

 

SMALL MAN

You know not what you speak. You know nothing of the possibilities.

 

MICHAELANGELO

Everything to me is like a handkerchief in a breeze.

 

SMALL MAN

NO! You cannot know. You cannot know that.

 

MICHAELANGELO

But I do. Leave now. Leave. You know you have nothing. And I will not do your bidding.

 

SMALL MAN

No. It must be finished. It must?

 

MICHAELANGELO

It will be finished. By ourselves. In due course. But not now, in any way, and not by you. Leave.

 

SMALL MAN starts acting as we?ve never seen him. He is suddenly threatening, he screams like a banshee and starts slowly moving towards MICHAELANGELO. But he has known this was coming for minutes already, and he calmly picks up the chisel he was using to shape the granite and rams it through SMALL MAN?s chest. SMALL MAN convulses on the blade and hisses at MICHAELANGELO.

 

SMALL MAN

You know not you.

 

MICHAELANGELO

I know not I. And it is time.

 

He looks up and a light appears in the sky, a la Scene One.

 

Amen.

 

BLACKOUT.

FIN