Monologues

Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones): My sister Veronica and I had this double act, and my husband Charlie traveled around with us. Now for the last number in our act, we did these twenty acrobatic tricks in a row. One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles, backflips, flip-flops, one right after the other. So this one night before the show, we're down at the Hotel Cicero. The three of us boozin' , having a few laughs. And we ran out of ice, so I go out to get some. I come back...open the door...and there's Veronica and Charlie, doing number seventeen: the Spread Eagle. Well, I was in such a state of shock; I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, (viciously) I even knew they were dead.

Selene: The war had all but ground to a halt in the blink of an eye. Lucian, the most feared and ruthless leader ever to rule the Lycan clan, had finally been killed. The Lycan horde scattered to the wind in a single evening of flame and retribution. Victory, it seemed, was in our grasp, the very birthright of the vampires. Nearly six centuries had passed since that night, yet the ancient feud proved unwilling to follow Lucian to the grave. Though Lycans were fewer in number, the war itself had become more perilous, for the moon no longer held her sway. Older, more powerful Lycans, were now able to change at will. The weapons had evolved, but our orders remained the same: Hunt them down and kill them off, one by one. A most successful campaign. Perhaps too successful. For those like me, a Death Dealer, this signaled the end of an era. Like the weapons of the previous century, we, too, would become obsolete. Pity, because I lived for it.

I didn't get into Cole's play, but we're doing Our Town with Horse Cave theatre, and these are my two possible monologues. One's from Chicago and the other's from Underworld.

Lots of shit is hitting the fan. I'll blog about it tomorrow.