[Robert Meyer]

I've been on a classical music site. They had a thread on changing the ends of operas (tagic to happy, happy to tagic, etc) and I thought it could be fun here. Mine follows...

[Robert Meyer]

La Fanciulla di Siviglia


The city of Seville is deserted, all are at the arena watching the bullfight; all except one man, Don Jose, walking the streets, mourning for his lost love, Carmen. "Where are you, Carmen, my little flower? We could have had a perfect romance!"

He hears a woman humming in the tavern. Walking through the door, he discovers that it is she, Carmen, fiddling with her long raven tresses before a mirror, trying to decide which side a scarlet flower would be prettier.

"You do love me, I knew it! You weren't even at the arena."

"Actually, I was; I just left early to get a better chance to meet Escamillo after the bullfight here, he's got some nice moves."

"What? You are my woman, Carmen; and as such, I demand your total obedience!"

"So you want to be a bully," said Carmen as she unlatched her cape and swirled it around her, shaking it with both hands before him. "Alright, you are my bull then. Toro, toro..."

He lunged at her while she stepped aside with an "Ole!" as he crashed into chairs and tables. The crowd in the arena cheered at that exact moment.

"Is my poor Don Toro hurt? I'm so sorry. I will give you another chance to put me in my place. Toro, toro..."

Again he charged, only to break more chairs, as her triumphant "Ole!" again met with the distant crowd's cheers.

As she positioned herself before an open window, she entreated, "Maybe a third time will be the charm; after all, you must not let a little girl make a monkey out of such a strong bull."

As he fell halfway through the window, she slammed it shut at his waist. She picked up a broken chair's seat and asked, "Now who do you think is the master, man or woman?"

"Obviously, I am the lord and master, Carmen!" The loud clap of its seat meeting his seat was met by the clapping of the arena.

Carmen [to the audience], "They never learn, do they?"

"I'm getting bored with you, Don Jose," said Carmen as she opened the window all the way and gave him one more good spank, which sent him all the way into the street. "Go home and beg Micaela to take you back; on your knees, if needs be. If you're lucky, she will allow you to obey her, since you really need a woman to tell you what to do."

Picking up the flower again, she still can't decide which side is best; but in the mirror she sees Don Jose coming back, this time with a knife. She steps aside, but with one foot out to trip him. He falls on his own knife, dead. "Tsk, tsk; little boys shouldn't play with knives."

*

The great toreador Escamillo enters the tavern alone. He walks over Don Jose's body with a shrug and demands the best drink in the house.

Carmen speaks. "I've been a fan of yours for some time."

"Of course, like everybody else, and who could blame them; but Gypsy, I'm waiting for that drink."

"You don't understand, I don't work here; the owner, and the rest of the town too, should be here soon. I just thought we could get to know each other over a drink."

"Me? The great Escamillo? With a dirty Gypsy? Is that a feeble attempt at humor? Now get me that drink!"

Carmen brings a bottle and a glass to him.

Grabbing her by her hair, he jerks her close to him, saying, "If I want you, I will take you. Understand, Gypsy bitch?"

"Yeah," as she knees him in the groin, "racist pig!" While he is doubled over, she crashes the bottle over his head. He falls, dead at her feet.

"The law will never give me a break," as she put Don Jose's knife in Escamillo's hand and put the top of the bottle in Jose's hand. "What's the score? Carmen: 2, male chauvinists: zip!" she smiled.

*

Suddenly the tavern owner and the rest of the town burst into the room. "This is terrible!" screamed the owner, "I don't care who killed who, I mean, they're just men..."

"Good observation!" Carmen interrupted.

"...but look at my property damage," the owner continued, "someone, I don't care who, but someone has to pay me for all this mess."

The sheriff stepped forward and said, "It's her fault."

"Mine?" Carmen asked. "I have no control when a couple of stupid men want to fight over me."

"Yes, you have," said the sheriff. "If you didn't look so sexy... come on everybody, doesn't she look sexy? ...then none of this would have happened. You, Carmen, have a responsibility to not look in a way that would drive men wild, the men have no control over what they do; it is you, Carmen, who bares the full responsibility for their actions."

The crowd applauded the speech. Nobody noticed that Carmen took the sheriff's money bag while he was talking.

Magnanimously, she gave the money bag to the tavern owner. "I surrender to the legal judgement of you fine men. This is all I have, I hope it will cover all the damages I caused by my clothing."

The owner looked inside the bag and was astounded by the amount. The sheriff was taking bribes, so of course, it was impressive. "Thank you Carmen, you are a true lady; in fact, it is more than enough. Here, take this gold coin back." He tossed the coin at her and she caught it, safely tucking it in the top of her low-cut dress.

"Thanks," she winked.

*

"Not so fast," the sheriff blocked Carmen when she attempted to leave. "Even though you may have paid your debt to the tavern owner, you are still a threat to society, Carmen. It is my duty, my sworn duty, to these citizens of fair Seville to lock you up, you wicked woman, because you will never change. Under my leadership there will never be a threat to law, order, and good old-fashioned values."

The crowd applauded again. You have to understand that it was election year in Seville and the sheriff was always making speeches. This time Carmen took his jail keys while he was talking. In those days, the keys were large, with a large open space to fit on the key ring; so large that each of Carmen's fingers could fit into a key, similar to brass knuckles. After he dragged her off to jail, he said, "Before I lock you up, I must take your valuables for safe keeping. Now I want that gold coin you put in your dress. Do I have to get it myself?" he smirked.

"Didn't your mother teach you to respect a lady?"

"Yes, but you, Carmen, are no la..."

A strong right hook ended that conversation. She unlocked a cell and dragged him in. "A girl needs some protection in a town like Seville," she thought out loud. "This is what I need!" She stripped his gun belt, with its perfectly balanced pearl-handled six gun, from him and put it on herself. "A bit rakish, but I like it. I must not forget the First Commandment of Fashion: ACCESSORIZE! Now what would look good with this gun? I know, this!" She took his badge and pinned it on her dress. "We girls like shiny things!" she laughed. "Don't feel so bad, sheriff," she matronizingly bestowed a kiss on his beaten brow, "everyone knows which gender has all the brains." After locking him up, she decided it would be wisest to take the keys. "Let him call the locksmith, then all the girls in town will get a laugh."

As Carmen departed Seville, there was a deep baritone shouting, "Help me, anyone!" from the jail, followed by a chorus of soprano giggles.


Robert Meyer