Artist: Frank Zappa

Title: Harry & Rhonda

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RHONDA: (stage whisper)

HARRY, this is not DREAM GIRLS! 



HARRY: (stage whisper)

They told me it had c-c-colored folk in it, RHONDA, and that's ALWAYS a 

sure sign of GOOD, SOLID, MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT! How was I 

supposed to know they'd be this ugly? 



RHONDA:

They pissed on us, HARRY! They fuckin' pissed on us! Look at my fox! 



HARRY:

I know, dear...but they pissed on me too...he did say they were 

INCONTINENT! 



RHONDA:

Just smell this! I think we should get out of here before they do something 

else to us! 



HARRY:

Leave? Now? At these ticket prices? Just hold your horses...it probably 

wasn't REAL PISS... only 'theater piss'...they probably have a formula... 

some special stuff...comes right outta the fur with Woolite. 



RHONDA:

What's happened to Broadway, HARRY? Used to be you could come to one 

of these things and the wind would be RUSHING DOWN THE PLAIN or a 

fairy on a string would go over the audience...but NOW! Harry, I ask you: 

is THIS entertainment? 



HARRY:

You're absolutely correct, dear! So far we haven't seen a single 

good-looking pair of legs...a single sequin-encrusted whatchamacallit ...

no firm, rounded breasts! This show is a DISASTER, RHONDA! A 

complete and utter DISASTER! 



THING-FISH:

Mmmm! Say dere...hey! Umm-hmm! Thass right! HEY YOU! You two ugly 

white folks...over heahhh! 



As you know, de presence of carboniferous hard-core unemployables 

has gen'rally, in de historical past, GUARANTEED an evenin' of upliftin' 

FROLIC and CAVORTMENT...it'd be a shame fo y'all t'miss out on dis 

here one! Got some nice chairs fo' ya, rights ovuh heahhh. 



HARRY & RHONDA rise, cross to THING-FISH, and sit in the chairs he 

offers. They are immediately chained to them by The MAMMIES. 



HARRY:

Uhhh...beg pardon? What's going on here? 



RHONDA:

Oh! They're touching me! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY! HARRY, do something! 

THEY'RE PUTTING CHAINS ON ME! I'LL BE STUCK TO THE CHAIR! Oh! 

What'll I do? I'LL MISS INTERMISSION! 



HARRY:

They're only 'theater chains', RHONDA! Just some sort of... 



RHONDA:

THESE ARE REAL GODDAM CHAINS, HARRY, AND THEY'RE NOT GONNA 

COME OFF WITH WOOLITE! 



HARRY:

I don't mind the way they feel...they don't bother me, honey...relax! 

Go with the flow... 



RHONDA:

HARRY, YOU ARE AN OVER-EDUCATED SHIT-HEAD! 



THING-FISH:

Look here, folks...dis only fo yo own protexium! Once we gets rollin' heah, 

things be happnin' all over de place dat could prove dangerous to persons 

not previously acquainted wit de SAN QUENTIM MASH- POTATOES! 



RHONDA:

I want the wind to come rushing down the plain! I want fairies on a string 

over the audience! I want REAL BROADWAY ENTERTAINMENT! Feathers! 

Spot-lights! Guilt! Hours upon hours of GUILT! About my mother! About my 

father! About brave women, suffering at the hands of infantile, insensitive, 

dominating men! And what do I get? A Potato-headed jig-a-boo with Catholic 

clothes on! Incomprehensible duck lips! Weak bladders draining through 

abnorminably large organs! Jesus, HARRY! What the FUCK is going on here? 



HARRY:

Simmer down! If you'll just roll with the punches...and don't rock the boat, 

I'm sure we'll have a lovely evening at the theater! 



THING-FISH:

Thass right! We got fairies on a string fo yo ass jes' a little later! Meanwhile, 

I b'lieves y'all requires some updatement on de CO-LOG-NUH situatium! 

Sister OB'DEWLLA 'X'! Express yo'seff!