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PABER CD PxBfiR, INC. Theater production costs are skyrocketing everywhere, and in
An affiliatc oÊ la rrar, Ûtfaus and G iroUx
19 Union Squarc Wes t, New York 1000.3 New York, Broadway budgets and “development” expenses can
approach those of the movies. But storefront theater companies
Libretto copyr*ght T' 1998 by Greg boris and Mark l Ïollirann
Buok copyright O 2003 by Creg Kotis and Mark Hollmann can still thrive in Chicago. Or at least they could in the late
I’>6 pppig£t 0 2003 by fa sid A«bmn 1980s and early 1990s, when a company with drive and its own
ha croduccion copyright fi 2003 by €ircg Koris and Mark Hollmann
All Rtghcs reserved sensibility could reasonably hope to attract the attention of the
Discributed in Camada by Penguin Books of Canada Limited
Prin ted In the United 5tares of America public and find a space cheap enough to put on a few shows a
rimT zDrriox, 2003 year without going broke.
1- ibraiy of Ccingress Wcaloging-in-Publication Dara A group called Cardiff Giant found two such spaces. One was
Kotis, Greg.
[Utinetown. Libretto]
on Chicago’s North Side, where they performed original plays
Urinecown, che musics / book by Greg Kotis ; lyrics by Greg Kotis md Mark that they wrote as an ensemble. The orher was in Jimmy’s
Ho11mann.— I sr ed.
Wood- lawn Tap, a South Side bar not far from the University of
ISBN 0-571-2118 2-8 (pbk,) Chicago, from which most of the group’s members had either
1. Musical—Librettos. I. Hollman, Mark, 196s— Il. 'l'itle.
graduated or not-quite-graduated. Here they mounted a weekly
ML50, K8783 U75 2002
Z82. 1'4'0268—dc21 improvisational show that often generated raw material for the
2002033875 plays.
Designed by €iretcfien Achilles The improv was more anarchic, the plays highly structured,
www.figbooks.com
but in both settings the group created a theatrical landscape with
features not to be found elsewhere.
10 9 8 7 6 5 ä 3 2 1
The stories were usually set in a kind of mid-twentieth-
HKloN: I’tOfessionals aHd 3maVeuts hereby wa•0eR that all material in his book, being
fully protected under the coppight has of the United Srates, the British Empir• incl nding
century Everytown. They were highly referential, with elements
the Dominion of Canada, ancl all other countries of tLe Copyri@t Union is subject to iojr- drawn impulsively from old movies, cartoons, dimly remem-
aJry. All rights, including profé ssicinal, amamur, motion piccure, recitation, lecturing, public
nding, radio and television broadmsting and be rights of translation inro foreign lan- bered TV ads and grade-school educational films, and texts from
guages, are srricrly reserved. I he stock and amateur performance rights in rhe Englñ h lan-
guage throughou r the United States, it5 territories and possessions and i he test of the World
the required U. of C. humanities and sociology classes. There
are controlled enclusiveljr by William Craver, Writers arid Arcisrs Agency, 19 less 44th Street, was a lot of intrigue, scheming, double-dealing. There were a lot
Suite 1000, New York, New York 10056. No professional or nonprofessional performances of
the play (Ending ftrsr-class professional performance) may be given wi thou r obtaining i» of evil or demented geniuses (I remember one who derived his
advance the written permission of WiJliarn prayer and paying be requisite fy. Inquiries con- schemes from talking to a peanut), wise waifs (usually played by
cerning all other rights should also be addressed to William Cravcr, at the address stated
above. men), angry mobs, corrupt politicians, and ingenues who turned

nca s cv n v
our ro be as obsessive and bent as the villains they were opposing.
rewarded. The overall effecr was oddly; and grarifyingly, hard-
There were copious flashbacks, flash-forwards, dream and fantasy
headed.
sequences, visitatio us from ghosts, etc. Characters even in realis-
This sensibility, too, is intact in f/rinerpwii. What’s most star-
tic situations supplied their own sound effects. Plot twists or sur-
tling about the musical might be the rigor with which Kotis and
prise revelations occasioned huge double takes, accompanied by
Hollmann work through their famously absurd premise. The
a baRled “Wha—?”
water shortage that drives the plot produces villains and heroes,
The shows were dizzying and incredibly funny. 1 remember
corruption and idealism—but rhe heroes have no monopoly on
many nights walking out of Jimmy’s with my face aching from
virtue, and it’s not just the villains who grow corrupt. Though
laughing so hard.
Urinetomn mocks the conventions of musicals, it is not primarily
Anyone who has seen Urinetown will be familiar with that
a spoof of them, as many reviews have held it to be (actually,
sensation. Greg Kotis and Mark Hollmann, the show’s authors,
it has the most solid, old-fashioned construction of any book
were two of the driving forces behind Cardiff Giant, and for musical in recent memory). If it is any kind of satire, it’s not of
those of us who saw their Chicago shows ten or more years ago,
musical theater but of human corruption—as Cardiff Giant’s
part of the excitement of Urinetown is ’in seeing that anarchic, work was, and Ben Jonson’s and Brecht’s as well.
bizarre, Chicago storefront sensibility transferred intact, and in
Like Brecht, Kotis and Hollmann hammered out a unique
some ways enhanced, to the world of the big-budget Broadway sensibility for themselves by performing in bars and tiny theaters.
musical.
Then they refined and enlarged it to the point where it can en-
This is something Broadway badly needs. Much of the energy
tertain and speak meaningfully to a large audience. That accom-
in any art form in any era is supplied by thc experiments that
plishment doesn’t just pur them in a great theatrical tradition. It
bubble up from below. Not very much that’s new or exciting has
gives hope to storefront theater companies everywhere—and to
bubbled up in the Broadway musical during the last few years,
Broadway, too.
probably because of high production costs and the aesthetic con-
servatism they engender.
Urinetown’s succcs.s is a terrific blow to that conservatism. And
audiences walking out of the show on Broadway are so giddy and
happy that its success there now seems like a forgone conclusion.
Bur of course ir wasn’t at first, not zn/ more chan it was obvi-
ous a decade ago that Cardiff Giant’s peculiar style could work in
the mainstream. It certainly wasn’t obvious to me. Though I
loved the shows, my memory of them isn’t particularly sunny.
They could be pretty bleak, actually. They put human corrup-
tion, weakness, arid cupidiiy on hilarious display. Villains were
sometimes punished, but idealism was usually betrayed, not

or e nn rac s
e ca n n v ii
re
On June 2, 2002, Urinetown won three Tony Awards (one for
book, one for score, and a third for direction), an event that—as
of this writing—still feels quite warm and wonderful and diffi-
culr to believe. Throughout the evening of the Tony broadcast,
people would approach me and ask, “Did you ever drink the
show would get this far?” to which I would answer,
didn’t.” An obvious answer to an obvious question. Urinetawn, as
they knew, and as you may know, arrived on Broadway as a ludi-
crous, harebrained transfer from Off-Broadway, itself an even
more ludicrous transfer from OF-Off-Broadway. The show, ap-
parently, was th’is absurdist musical about a world where people
had to pay to pee, appropriate, perhaps, for some fringe festival
on the Lower East Side of New York City, but not for Broadway,
and certainly not as a nominee for a bevy of Tony Awards. At
each leg of Urinetoiun’s journey from Stanton Street (Off-Off-
Broadway) to Forty-third Street (Broadway), the conventional
wisdom seemed to mutter, “This must not happen.” And yet, at
each leg, it did happen—the show survived, flourished even, and
eventually snuck its way forward toward that Broadway night of
nights. By the end of the evening’s festivities, these “Did you ever
think?” exchanges became something of a ritual, the asker know-
ing the answer, the answerer welcoming the basically rhetorical
question. They took on the verbal equivalent of pinching your-
self to see if you’re awake—“Am I dreaming? Apparently not.
The question, to be sure, is still welcome, because the journey
isn’t over yet. As of this writing, Urinetoiun is planning a national
tour, as well as a flurry of international productions, including
Seoul, Tokyo, London, and more. Urinctown has its very own
original cast recording, produced by a large, monopolizing cor-
poration like RCA/Victor, no less. And now the text of the play
has been published by a not quite monopolizing, but at least re-
spected, mid-sized publishing outfit like Faber & Faber, com-
plete with an introduction engaging enough to keep the reader
reading until this very sentence. Given the origins and original
intentions of the play, it all still feels quite diRicult to believe, as
well as warm and wonderful.
The idea for Urinetown first came to me during what might gen-
erously be described as a poorly planned trip to Europe during
the late winter/early spring of 1995. At the time, I was perform-
ing with the Neo-Futurists, a Chicago-based experimental the-
ater company that was taking part in a theater festival in a small
Transylvanian (believe it or not) town called Sibiu. On our re-
turn flight, I decided to extend an overnight layover in Paris to
spend two weeks bumming around Western Europe by myself,
to see the sights, and also to try and decide whether I would pro-
pose to my girlfriend and fellow Neo-Futurist, Ayun Halliday.
For some reason 1 thought $300 would cover my expenses, and
as you might expect, I ran out of money almost immediately.
What I had intended to be a meditative, economy-style back-
packer excursion through the capitals of France, Germany, En-
gland, and Spain quickly devolved into a grim test of endurance,
where the defining questions changed from °Am I getting
enough culture!” and ‘How do I really feel about Ayun?” to sim-
'’’ ply “How can I not spend any m0ney until I can reclaim my
ticket to the States and go home?” For me, the answer involved
sleeping in train stations, eating cheap but belly-filling foods,
and, strangely enough, avoiding going to the bathroom as much
as possible. Public bathrooms in Europe are pay-per-use. Some
are old buildings in parks complete with towel-distributing at-
tendants; some are state-of-the-art, self-cleaning toilet-pods set
proudly near city crossroads. Each involves a fee of some kind,
some more expensive than others, all at the time prohibitive to
me. I have never been able to just pee in the bushes (or between
parked cars, as is often done in New York), nor do I do well un-
der the hostile gaze of restaurateurs who know a bathroom free-
loader when they see one. For me, the pay-per-use amenities
were it. And so it was that on one particularly cold and rainy af-
ternoon in Paris, while I was making my way past the Luxem-
bourg Gardens, trying to determine how badly I needed to go to
the bathroom and whether I should splurge and use one of the
toilet-pods I could see looming in the distance (or wait until just
before dinner when I could combine two trips into one), that the
notion of a city where all public amenities in town were con-
trolled by a single malevolent, monopolizing corporation came to
me. And not only would the corporation control all the public
bathrooms but, being malevolent and monopolizing, it would
somehow cnsure the prohibition of private toilets, thus guaran-
teeing a steady flow of customers to its overpriced comfort sta-
tions. With its wealth and influence on the rise, it would pay off
politicians and the police, outlaw going in the bushes (and be-
tween parked cars), and generally employ all available tools of
persuasion to maintain its hammerlock on power. At its head
z'ould be an evil capitalist genius controlling the world from be-
hind his corporate desk. But would he really be so evil? For the
world he was controlling was suffering from a nearly uncontrol-
iovannucwino or
 lable ecological disaster—a droiight that, at the beginning of our
nies. Initially, I presented Mark with a narrative skeleton and a
story, had al ready entered its twentieth year. I stood there on the
few scenes. Mark took the material away and came back a lew
sidewalk for a moment or two, thinking the thing through. The
weeks later with “It’s a Privilege to Pee,” Penelope Pennywise’s
notion seemed like a patently awful one, grand and ridiculous, a
Act I wail about the cold, hard facts of life during the drought. It
career (such as it was) ending embarrassment. And yet, at its
was angry, pained, an unapologetic march in the tradition of
core, it woiild also be a grand, ridiculous reflecriori of the world
Brechr-Weill. There was Ms. Pennywise laying down the law to
as we know it to be, complete with rich and poor, the powerful
the downtrodden, screaming the truth as she knew it, an absurd-
and the powerless, a governmenr controlled by industry and an
ist Brechtian anti-heroine. The show came alive in Mark’s new
ifldtlstfy that exists apart from Grid above us all. And driving it all
song, the colors were clear, the tone pitch-perfect.
wouid be the disaster, in this case the droughc, a fact that
Over the next three years we met after services at a church
trumped all the other facts: the love, the rage, the greed, every-
where Mark played organ, sometimes infrequently, sometimes
thing. It would be a musical, les, a very big musical, and it
intensively, trading notes and sharing the progress we had made
would be called Urinetawn. It might not be performed, perhaps
in the intervening weeks. The process was slow, unpredictable, a
should not be performed, but it would be called Urinetown, and
task of exploring the metaphor to its utmost, trying to bring the
it Would take place in a town where everybody had ro pay to pee. world of the play into view. At first it was difhcult to believe we
Such is the thinking that comet from being too homesick, too
were putting so much energy into this show called Urinetuwn; it
broke, and too full of betty-Zitting foods, while irihibitirig natural
was a freak show of a musical, a Frankenstein’s Monster best kept
bodily functions for too long.
in the basement. We wrote it as if we didn’t expect anyone but
maybe a few friends to see it, because at firsr we really didn’t ex-
pect anyone but maybe a few friends to see it. We ballooned the
east size out to thirty-six, a comfortably unworkable crowd of ac-
tors no producer would ever agree to (if ever one were to agree to
Upon returning to the United States and moving to New York
our premise in the first place). We devised a ghastly ending
City (with Ayun, then my fiancée) to continue performing with
where Cladwell’s potbelly (he was originally described xs a porcly
the Neo-Futurisrs, I approached Mark Hofmann, a long-time
man) was revealed to be an obscenely distended bladder strapped
friend and past collaboratOr, and pitched the idea to him.
to his body with belrs, an unforgivably vulgar costume require-
Strangely, he was interested. Mark and 1 had worked intensively
ment we telt confident no one could build. We hobbled our
years before with the Cardiff Grant Theater Company, creatirig
monster, sabotaging it with unproducible choices that would
m plays with other company members through a process of en- keep the work safely off the stage and in our respective desk
semble improvisation. Since then, Mark had moved to New York
drawers, where it belonged. And yet, at the same time, the mad-
to pursue a career as a composer while I stayed in Chicago to
ness of the thing felt strangely joyful and free. Since it was un-
continue working with the Neo-Futurisrs, among other compa- producible, we allowed ourselves complete liberty in imagining

” i mxmoavoyiom
 the play, making choices that were not just bad for rhe sake of
being bad but reckless for the sake of seeing where a story goes
when it goes where it probably shouldn’t. What happens if the
hero dies, not heroically, but desperately, and alone with his
enemies? What happens if the heroine is allowed her anger, then
allowed to act upon her impose to incite a mob to murder her
father? Rd What happens if the play offers no clear prescription
for the troubles it imagines, no “Love is the answer” or “Be true
to yourself and all Will be well”* And here we found the real heart
of the play, the sense of fear that had hovered over all our ct-Ports.
fat had been a vague, uncertain point of view came into
sharper relief for us as the play grew bloodier and the stakes of
the story rose.
I have never been an environmentalist in any productive
sense, nor can I Claim to be a social activist, nor would I describe
myself as a pariiCtilarly good citizen. But at the same time, I (like
most Ameiic:ws, I suspect) have this creeping sense of dread that
we’re in the process of doing ourselves in, slowly but steadily, and
rhere’s nothing we can do about it. We burn too much oil, build
too many roads and too many houses, create too much garbage,
and as human beings interested in pleasure, convenience, per-
Sonal freedom, and individual progress, we’re simply incapable of
making the changes necessary to save ourselves. The evidence
seems to be everywhere, in the oddness of recent climate swings,
in estimates of future population growth, arid in the choice
of
leaders we select to articulate our national response to these facts.
These problems secm so huge, so complete, so fundamental as to
be unsolvable, and that was the issue Mark and I ultimately
hoped to consider with this play. Yes, Urinetown would be ab-
Sqrd, allegorical, ridiculous, unproducible. But, at the same time,
it would present a world long past the point where good
inten-
tions could do any good, a future we both fear and anticipate in
rhis world, silently for the most part. And perhaps a musical that
had deliberately shed the traditional credentials of a happy end-
ing, or even a decent title, might be exactly the right play to pres-
ent the thought we had in mind. We shrunk the cast down to
sixteen, then fifteen. We discovered the true ending of the play,
one rhat kept our villain a human being. And (unproducible
choices aside) we stayed true to the formal rules of musical the-
ater writing as best we could, wondering whether they might ap-
ply even to Urinetawn.
Mark and I spent the second half of 1998 dutifully sending out
first draft scripts and demo tapes to theaters, agents, and produc-
ers around the country, who would then dutifully send form let-
ters back to us in response. Our roots were in the do-it-yourself
theater world, but our hope was to find an ally in more estab-
lished circles who could help us put our monster on its feet. Un-
fortunately (or fortunately, as it turned out), our unproducible
choices proved entirely convincing, and by April 1999 we had
exhausted all traditional avenues of production and/or develop-
ment save fot an impoverished, upstart theater festival that took
place each August in Manhattan called the New York Interna-
tional Fringe Festival. The Fringe, to be sure, was a last resort for
us. As Mark and I well knew, the Fringe was not so much a fes-
tival as a barely controlled riot where as many as 150 theater
productions from across rhe country and around the world
descended on the streets of the Lower East Side for ten days in
August, each working ferociously to press-gang as many audience
members as they could find to see their show. What we had in
mind was a musical, a real musical, that most intricate piece of
theatrical machinery, and to trust it to the certain anarchy of the
Fringe Festival seemed like folly. But by April 1999 it was the
Fringe Festival or nothing, and while we toyed with nothing, we
settled on the Fringe. Lucky for us.
Fired anew by the threat of impending production, Mark and
I worked through the spring, meeting evenings and weekends in
the church where Mark played organ to polish the script into
rehearsal readiness. be assembled an intrepid cast of young per-
formers, each stuck New York for the summer for various rea-
sons, but each game enough to give our show a shor. We
rehearsed whenev@ we could (also in Mark’s church), our direc-
tor tripling as choreographer and musical director, our assistant
director quadrupling as prop master, stage manager, and all-
round chief of staff Mark and I polished rhe script further, and
day by day, the show was whipped, cajoled, and coddled into
shape. Our last night in the church we performed a run-through
for a few of our friends. They were polite and encouraging, some
congratulatory, some quietly but quite obviously concerned for
our future. That performance constituted our invited dress re-
hearsal and entire preview process rolled into one. We were
exhausted and terrified, but it began to seem like we had some-
thing approximating a show.
Fringe Festival rules allowed each production one eight-hour
pcriod for a technical rehearsal to tech its show in its assigned
theater. In both our theater assignment and our tech time we
got two extremely lucky breaks. Our theater, a converted garage
on the corner of Stanton and Ridge, was immediately next
door to where festival tickets were sold, and noon to eight
(our tech time) proved to be an extremely busy shift. As we re-
hearsed, ticket sellers, attracted by the sounds being made next
door, would drift in to see who was singing, and why. And as
ticket buyers began showing up and asking the sellers for guid-
ance, word spread that the festival was hosting a musical this
ui we no nucw roe
year, a real musical with singing and everything. Advance sales
picked up.
The theater was very hot for our first pcrformance, as it would
be for all performances. The roof of rhe garage was one vast, tara
covered expanse that absorbed and exaggerated all the hcat of
the August sun. Fans were brought in and spread throughout the
house, hung from the ceilings, all humming loudly, moving the
hot air around. A garage door on the side of the theater was kept
open to let in fresh air, which also let in chatter from the ticket
booths. It Was a dirty dangerous, uncomfortable place to see a
show, let alone perform one, and all in all rhe perfect place to
present Urinetown. Audience members stteamed in, stepping
over extension cords and onto shaky risers to find their seats. l
hovered in the catwalks above the back of the house, chewing
my cuticles, trying to read the audience. then Mark, our entire
orchestra, began to play his overture on a single upright piano
placed just house left of the stage. The crowd grew quiet, curi-
ons. The lights wcnt doe n, the cast took their positions, and Jay
Rhoderick, omr Officer Lockstock for the Fringe production, en-
tered from the house and began ta]king to the audience. As quiet
as the audience was, they grew quieter still; an actor dressed as a
policeman was addressing them from the stagc. "there are many
kinds of silcnce in theater, some good, some not so good. This
was a good silence, an alert silcncc—they were paying attention.
As Jay spoke, a dirge-like, mournful hymn filled the garage, com-
plete wirh part singing and full-chorus chords. This, apparently;
was not what the audience had expected to hear, not at the
Fringe Festival, and certainly not from a show called Urinetown.
They listened harder. Then they siarted to laugh. Lines were
dropped throughout that first performance, cues were missed,
props were fumbled, the heat in the theater actually rose, pushed
up by all the lighting instruments working at once, but wc were
getting laughs. The crowd, our first crowd, was with us. When
 the lights popped off at the end of the first-act finale, the audi-
ence leaped to its feet; they cheered. Mark sat in a pool of sweat
by his piano, unsure of how we had done, still peering at his
sheet music, reliving his errors. The cast mingled backstage, their
costumes sopping wet with perspiration, exhausted but happy to
be through the firsr half. And this is how we began. Urinetown
was performed eight times as part of rhe Fringe, and four more
times at the same theater the weekend after the festival closed.
We oversold nearly every performance, garnered the kind of crit-
ical response'you inevitably daydream about working in theater,
and had a good time in the process. Even then we were being
asked, “Did you ever think the show would get this far?”
OF A1 the industry people who wandered through our show,
it was only the Araca Group, partnered by Mike Rego,
Matthew Rego, and Hank Unger, who understood how far
Urinetou'n might one day go, and how it could get there. Mike,
Matthew, and Hank were upstarts, buccaneering producers
eager for a horse to bet on, and fully willing to risk other people’s
money (as well as their own) on a long shot like Urinetown.
When I first met Mike, he struck mc as the enemy incarnate
(albeit a very young one), acutely interested in money,
ambitious, strangely good-looking, and not ashamed to interrupt
our conversation to answer his cellphone. At our initial meeting
on the night that he first saw the show, Mike mostly asked
questions, keeping his cards close to his chest, his enthusiasm
muted, Whom had we talked to? What wcre our plans! How
committed were we to the material? The director? The cast? He
liked the show. He was busy. He’d let us know. It was one of
several meetings we “took”
viii
(as we learned to say) during and immediately after the Fringe,
vaguely promising, but also vaguely dispiriting. Our first choice
was to remount the show as it was, a raw and rebellious produc-
tion that might run in some other garage for a while, albeit a
nicer one. But the more we talked to prospective producers, the
more unlikely that particular prospect seemed to be. Space was
scarce, money was scarce, and real musicals were impossible
enough to produce, let alone the deliberately impossible one we
hoped to recount. Months passed, and by the time the Araca
Group called us in for a second meeting, Mark and I had already
exhausted the various VIPs we had courted since the Fringe pro-
ducrion had closed, each well-intentioned but ultimately in no
position to advance our cause.
The proposal the Araca €iroup made to us was this: Bring in a
new director, someone knowri and respected, open casting to a
wider pool of talent including seasoned veterans, and see what
happens when the material is put in front of the powers that be.
As a young and relatively green producing outfit, Araca was in a
position to mount the show as a staged reading, but not much
more. The purpose of the reading would be to test the material
away from the Fringe environment, and to solicit the interest
and assistance of more experienced producing partners with
greater resources and know-how. The show is an odd duck, they
argucd, but trcat it likc a Broadway musical and it might just
have legs. This, of course, was the hardest part of our journey
with the show. We felt loyal and indebted to our Fringe group,
and never before in our time writing plays had we been asked to
consider recasting anything. Shows were done with friends for
the love of it as much as anything else; changing die roster de-
feated the purpose of the thing. But Araca’s argument was strong:
Ler backers see this material with actors they trusted and its po-
tential (or lack thereof) would be apparent. We lobbied for our
cast, demanding they all get a shot in front of the new director,
hoping for the best. In the end, our choice was to rrusr the play stopped and released mid-sentence to keep the schedule on
to rhe Araca Group or walk away from the show for good. We schedule; a near-panicky feverishness hovered over most of the
considered walking away, but in the end we chose to trust them. proceedings. But as constrained as the process was, this was
Mark’s and my first real taste of the big time. Here we were, two
unknowns from die do-it-yourself world of way-downtown the-
ater, and each day we arrived at rehearsal to watch these seasoned
actors and directors apply their abilities to our play. We got to
Unbeknownst to us, the Araca Group knew only one director of
of- fer opinions, participate in decisions, people treated us nice.
not John Rando—and with him we received perhaps the
And all the while, the play was coming closer and closer into
luckiest break of all. In our first meeting with John he spoke
view. Here was Nancy Opel belting out Penelope Pennywise’s
seriously, gravely even, about the substance of the play, its his-
“It’s a Privilege to Pee” with a mad rage and remorse above and
torical antecedents, its larger context. He spoke to no one in par-
beyond our wildest hopes. There was jennifer Laura Thompson
ticular, to a spot hovering about three inches above the center of
as Hope Cladwell, more captivating and more beautiful than the
the conference table we had spread ourselves around. But as he
Grace Kelly her character was first modeled on, and Daniel
spoke he would crack up from time to time, shake off the grim-
Marcus, giddily bloodthirsty as Lockstock‘s sidekick, Ofhcer
ness for a second with an image of ridiculousness he hoped to see
Barrel. And, finaily, there was Spencer as Little Sally, a friend
in the show, then continue, grim again. Here was the man for
and fellow col- laborator from Neo-Futurist days, a Fringe
the job, serious and loopy at the same time. John was then joined
stowaway like our- selves, holding her own with the pros.
by the musical director Edward Strauss, grim and loopy in his
own way; but exacting in precisely the way a musical director
needed to be with our material.
Over the nexr two months we collected a cast and set about
mounting what’s known as a twenty-hour reading. Two Fringe
The reading was presented twice in January 2000 at New
cast members were invited, including Spencer Kayden, who
Dramatists on West Forty-fourth Street, the first during a traffic-
would continue with the production to Broadway, a happy vote
stopping blizzard, the second two days later amid the frozen de-
of confidence to the old crew, a crucial aesthetic clue to the new
tritus left by the storm. People came slogging through the snow,
one. What’s special about a twenty-hour reading is that the actors
important people, industry people, including Michael David and
don’t have to be paid that much (good for the producers, bad for
Lauren Mitchell of Dodger Theatricals. Although I didn’t know
the actors), but only twenty hours of their time can be used from
it at the time, Dodger was and is one of the biggest players on
the first moment of rehearsal to the final moment of the reading
Broadway. Their track record extends back decades, including
(good for the actors, bad for the producers—and the writers, I
Gospcl at Colonw, Wrong Mountain, and many of the big-time
Stl QOSC). A stopwatch was present continuously, actors were
Broadway revivals of recent years. At first glance, Michael seemed
to hate somehing of the mad Russian holy man about him
 benevolent version of Rasputin: friendly enough, but with all the
spark that prerevolutionary figure suggests. And Lauren was (and
is) strikingly tall and elegant, every bit the Broadway performer
she began her career as. In addition to Michael and Lauren, each
performance was attended by the powerful prospective producers
the Araca Group had spoken of, representatives from many of
the major producing organizations and performing arts institu-
tions in the city, precisely the people Mark and I had solicited
two years before.
I was sitting in my car in a small town on Long Island, days af-
ter the reading, scouting houses for the TV show ñ Mm Order
(my day job), when Mike Rego called to tell me the Dodgers
wanted in. This was that particular piece of good fortune that
made everything that follou'ed possible. Michael and Lauren were
the “powers that be," so to speak, precisely the kind of creative
producers a show like Urinetown needed. Mark and I, as well as
Mike, Matthew, and Hank, were called into a meeting at Dodger
Theatricals, a high-floor ofhce in an old-time New York building
overlooking Times Square. Posters of familiar theatrical triumphs
covered the walls, the ofhce hummed (as they say) with important
activity all in all a convincing epicenter of Broadway power and
accomplishment. We collected in a small conference room with
clear views of New Jersey, and were offered water and coifee while
we waited; then Lauren and Michael joined us, for them another
stop on a busy day. They sat down, introduced themselves, and
then began discussing the play as if they really meanr to produce
it. They liked the material. They liked the title! What was our vi-
sion for the show? The play was an Off-Broadway play, but could
we imagine it on Broadway? It’s difficult to understate the miracle
of their enthusiasm. In a Broadway landscape that had become
increasingly risk-averse and corporatized, here were two players
with solid reputations offering to roll the dice and see what fate
awaited those who chose to produce die unproducible play.
Months were committed to finding the right performance space,
which turned out to be a poor but tenacious theater operating
above an active courtroom on West Fifty-fourth Street. Weeks
were spent assembling a creative team, then auditioning new cast
members to join Nancy, Jennifer, Daniel, and Spencer, including
David Beach, Rachel Coloff, Rick Crom, John Cullum, John
Deyle, Hunter FOster, Victor W. Hawks, Ken Jennings, Megan
Lawrence, Jeff McCarthy, Lawrence E. Srreet, Kay Walbye,
and (eventually) Jennifer Cody. Weeks of rehearsals followed, a
thrilling process for me. There was John Ciillum, cunning and
smooch, creating the villain Cladwell before our very eyes. There
was Hunter Foster creating Bobby Strong, Cladwell’s nemesis,
giving the hero more honesty and gritty charisma than the James
Dean—style character we had originally envisioned. And there
was Jeff McCarthy, the k stone of all our efforts, anchoring the
show as Ofhcer Lockstock, a murderously tough cop on die take
with a soft spot for a little girl who would join him in explaining
the show to the audience. And he had to sing, too. Amid it all,
an ensemble came into being, the creators of Tiny Tom, Hot
Blades Harry, Senator Fipp, Mr. McQueen, Josephine Strong,
Billy Boy Bill, Robby the Stockfish, Soupy Sue, and Little Becky
Two-Shoes, a group that had to work harder, dance harder, and
perform harder than seemed possible. Rewrites were requested
and, after some hair pulling, delivered. Characters were discov-
ered, gags were discovered, the show was choreographed (by the
formidable John Carrafa), orchestrated (by the unrivaled Bruce
Coughlin), and altogether “Broadway-fled,” as a friend termed it.
A few days before tech rehearsals began, we were invited to see
the set design Scott Pask had installed in the theater, a stunning
experience for two writers previously accustomed to dump-
picked couches constituting the centerpieces of designs for past
ioznooucsios xx•i
plays. More stunning still was to see Jonathan Bixby and Gregory
Gale’s costumes, worn on that stage by our cast and lit by Brian
MacDevitt’s wonderful plot. Advertisements appeared. Articles
, appeared. Word spread that Urinetown had found its way to a
commercial production. How was it possible* And yet it was
happening. Previews began Sunday, April 1, a presumed April
Fools’ joke for some. And then, finally, implausibly, Urfnetown
opened Off-Broadway, Sunday, May 6, 2001, roughly nineteen
months after closing at the Fringe.
At the opening-night party at a bar near rhe theater, Hank
Unger arrived with the ten' York Times review. In olden days
i pcoplc would wait for ice papers to land in bundles on the side-
walk to learn what critical fate had befallen their show. Nowa-
days, reviews are posted first on the Irnernet, so that’s what Hank
had, a printout from the tion’s Web site. A few of us collected
on the sidewalk outside the bar. Jef£ McCarthy, our barrel-
chested, silver-nianed Officer Lockstock, read it aloud. In the
world of New York theater every accolade is precious, but the
Times, as the tradition goes, gives life or takes it away. In our
case, we had been given life—a lot of life. Urinetown sold out its
run, then extended performances to the end of June. The pro-
duction was blessed with more accolades, including eleven
Drama Desk nominations, two Obie Awards, and a berth in that
scason’s ‘Rcst Plays” anthology. Shortly before rhe end of our Off-
Broadway run, Mike Rego assembled the cast before a show to
share with them (and with us) the outcome of the producers’
private schemings. We were going to Broadway, all of us. They
didn’t know where, exactly, but it was happening, so get ready.
There was no Cheet during his announcement, no exhalation
that follows the crossing of a finish line. The cast asked ques-
tions, quietly, cautiously. People tugged on their costumes, ex-
changing quick, happy grins. Their lives were changing. Our
lives were changing. We had all bet on the right horse.
The Henry Miller, our Broadway destination, had been dark and
derelict as a legitimate Broadway theater until only a few years
before Urinetown transferred there. Ultimately resuscitated by a
revival of Cabaret, the Henry Miller had been a nightclub, a porn
house, and an otherwise uncelebrated venue for sex farces and re-
vues since the 1960s. Previous to rhat, the Henry Miller had
been a legitimate stage, including among its productions Eugene
O’Nei1l’s Days Without End, T. S. Eliot’s The Cocktail Party, and
Thornton Wilder’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Our Town, but that
heyday was long gone by the time we arrived. During our first
walk-through of the space, we found the Henry Miller to be a
dusty, crumbling antique, complete with holes in the ceiling and
leopardskin carpeting ref over from its seedier days. But like the
Stanton Street garage, and the floor above the court/precinct, the
Henry Miller was the perfect place for Urinetown. Broadway pre-
views began Monday, August 27, adjustments being made all the
while as we approached our September 13 opening. Monday,
September 10, as well as Tuesday, September 11, were press
nights, those specific performances critics attend in advance of a
show’s actual premiere. Monday’s performance was strong, an
evening witnessed by reviewers from The No York Observer, the
Reward Star-ledger, and USA Today, among others. Tuesday,
September 11, was to be even more crucial, including theater
writers from Hewsday, the Associated Press, Variety, and The H
York Times. That performance, of course, never took place. The
planes struck in the morning, and I, like many New Yorkers,
spent the day alternately hovering by the radio, looking out my
window toward downtown Manhattan, and venturing into the
streets of my neighborhood to try to understand what had be-
come of our city. Broadway performances were cancelled for that
evening, as they would be for the next, and as far as we knew,
we
wouldn’t be opening for some time. It was difficult to imagine York en masse, declaring they would do their part by spending as
how we could possibly present our absurdist comedy in the much money as they could, in part on theater. f/rineroma’s cast,
midst of so much tragedy, confusion, and fear. But at the behest musicians, and crew labored week by week throughout that most
of the mayor, we did reopen, along with the rest of Broadway, difficult season, breathing life night afrer night into our musical
inviting audiences to come back the 3’hursday after the attacks. with the terrible title. Houses werc full, then slow, then full
1"imes Square was relatively empty that night, itself an antici- again. The show survived, prospered, and as the months ticked
pated target, as it still is. Our audience was small, anxious, but off, we drew ever closer to awards season, even becoming a con-
eager, I think, to be in one another’s company. Our director, tender for some of the most coveted statuettes of all. On May 6,
John Rando, walked onstage and said simply that another word one year to the day after opening Off-Broadway, thirty-one
for life is creativity. Theater, he said, could not save lives, nor months after closing at the Fringe Festival, Urinctoiun was happy
could it put out fires, but it could offer creativity and life, which indeed to receive ren Tony nominations, including one for
is what we hoped to offer that night. John thanked the audience Spencer.
and walked offstage. The lights dimmed, the overture played, the
actors took their places, and the show began. Theater is a poor Greg Kotis
relative in some ways to other forms of entertainment, to cinema New York City
or television. But that night, for those audience members, there July 24, 2002
could have been no greater way to spend the evening than sitting
in a theater witnessing fellow New Yorkers tell a story on a stage
a few feet in front of them. Whatever fears that group of theater-
goers had, for themscl ves or their city, the actors and the musi-
cians and the crew had also. But those fears were shushed away
for the evening by the choice to be together, in that place, at that
time.
Urinetowy formally opcned September 20, one week after our
intended premiere. Again, the reviews were good. The critics re-
minded us that there truly was a serious core to all our silliness,
after all, and furthermore, silliness can be anything but unwel-
come during times as serious as those we were all experiencing.
Audiences grew, but each week we stayed open seemed like
something of a miracle. Broadway faltered, then found its foot-
ing, revived by the goodwill of the city, just as the city was re-
vived by the goodwill of the country. During one week that
autumn, a crowd of two hundred Oregonians arrived in New

If a telephone poll had been taken on che matter, I suspect that
most Americans would have said that the tide alone made Urine-
ran not just a bad idea for a musical but a really terrible idea for
a musical. That is, if they had not already hung up. When Cireg
Kotis, having invited me over to his East Ninth Street apartment
in New York on a spring evening six years ago to talk about col-
laborating on a new musical, asked me what 1 thought, my an-
swer probably placed m with him—in a minority of two. I
believed from the moment I heard it that the premise for Urine-
town was one of the best with which I had ever been presented.
Yes, the title made me nervous, but my many years in the fringe-
performing-arts scene in Chicago—a background I share with
Greg—had opened my small-town Midwestern boy’s mind to
what I once might have thought taboo.
Our shared background included many prior collaborations,
through which the style of our work together on Urinctown can
be traced (by the countless hordes I’m certain were secretly fol-
lowing our heretofore obscure careers). We first collaborared in
the late 1980s and early 1990s, when we were both coming
of age artistically in our twenties as ensemble members of the
Cardiff Giant Theater Company; a now-defunct improvisational
theater troupe in Chicago. As actor/playwrights in Cardiff Giant,
we and our fellow ensemble members wrote, acted in, directed,
and produced five full-length plays and two fulLlengch musicals.
We also performed countless improv sets, based on audience sug-
gestions, in a weekly hour-long show called Auant-Garfields.
Over the course of about seven years as an active group, Car-
diff Giant developed a distinct style of dark comedy, with broad
characters playing out often-absurd situations in a familiar, yet
not specifically identifiable, world. Greg and T had that style in
common, along with a resourcefulness and work ethic that had
helped keep Cardiff Giant artistically productive in spite of a
tiny budget, like so many other Chicago non-Equity theater
companies. I think that Greg hoped to draw on all that when he
tapped me as composer and lyricist for Urinetown.
In addition to working with Cardiff Giant, Greg worked with
Chicago’s famed Neo-Futurists troupe as a writer/performer in
the long-running Too Much Light Sales the Baby to Bliyd. I had
branched out to play the trombone for Maestro Subgum and
the Whole, a highly theatrical but mosdy indescribable cabaret/
art-rock band. Like Cardiff Giant, these groups made up for in
imagination and creativity what they lacked in funds. They en-
gendered a definite outsider’s sensibility in Greg and me, and
that prepared us well for the creation of Urinetomn.
For with our respective post—Cardiff Giant work, I can see
how Greg and I were pushing our artistic tastes to new extremes.
In the process, previously off-limits material (by Cardiff Giant
standards) became fair game. In one of Greg’s rwo-minute plays
for Too Much Light, an exuberant narrator, played by Greg, ex-
plains repeatedly and in great detail how “Farts Come!” (What,
you expected roses from the future author of Urinctawn!) For my
part, working with Maestro Subgum exposed me to a challeng-
ing new aesthetic in music and lyrics. Many of the songs ye per-
formed—written by the group’s main songwriters, Beau O’Reilly,
Michael Greenberg, and Jenny Magnus—dealt with heroin ad-
diction, suicide, and other socially unacceptable behavior. These
were topics that I had rarely thought or talked about, much less
written songs about, but I think that performing them night af-
rcr night broadened my viewpoint. It may even have prepared
me to say yes to Greg Kotis when he asked me to write the songs
for a musical centered on peeing.
 It wasn’t merely a musical centered on peeing, however. Greg’s
ment, convey to me a man long convinced that the world is a
concept for Urinetown rose above its provocative title. The proj-
fraud and wearily resigned to his place in it.
ecr he proposed to me had all the elements of a great musical: a
Like Ms. Pennywise, Peachum is delivering the message that
love story set against rhe backdrop of social upheaval, a protago-
all is not right in the world, and as he does, we understand that
nist who would fight to the death for what he wanted, and a col-
he would rather deliver this message than hear it himself. I made
orful cast of supporting characters. It also had the potential for
Pennywise’s “lt’s a Privilege to Pee” faster and more martial than
comic social commentary, like the Cardiff Giant shows. More-
Peachum’s “Morning Hymn,” but the stark, unapologetically
over, in choosing to work with each other again, Greg and I had
dim worldview of Peachum helped me believe that Pennys song
a clear understanding that Urinetown, in spite of its title, would
was possible. In both cases, it is the singers’ righteous duty to tell
contain no swear words or off-color situations, which had been
the truth as they see it, and to lay down the law, hard.
our principle in Cardiff Giant.
When I had finished a first draft of the music and lyrics for
As composer and lyricism for our brand-new collaboration, I
“It’s a Privilege to Pee,” I called Greg and invited him to hear it.
had two immediate tasks: to start setting a tone or style for the
We met at Christ Lutheran Church on East Nineteenth Street in
music of the score and to find the places in Greg’s scripr that
Manhattan, where I served as organist. Sitting at the piano in the
could be turned into songs. Although Greg eventually joined me
sanctuary, amid stained-glass windows depicting scenes from the
in writing lyrics, I always felt that spotting songs was mainly my
Bible and tile mosaics portraying the saints, I played and sang
job. At this point, in the late spring of 1996, not much of a
Penny’s rant, which got Greg laughing in appreciation. Laughter
script existed, and Greg would not complete a full first draft un-
would become a barometer for us: if 1 laughed spontaneously at
til late 1997. From the first few pages he gave me, however, I was
Greg’s writing or he at mine, whatever got us laughing would
able to get a handle on a style and could easily spot a terrific song
usually stay in the show. That evening, I could tell from Greg’s
opportunity.
laughter that this song clicked with his vision for Urinetown and
It came in a scene early in Act 1, wherein we meet Penelope
that we were on to something.
Pennywise, the hard-bitten matron of the filthiest urinal in town.
Although “It’s a Privilege to Pee” was an early stylistic success,
In this moment she is reading the riot act to the down trodden
the entire score was not written under the influence of Weill
customers of her Public Amenity #9. It reminded me of a song
and Brecht. I reached a certain point, perhaps after writing
from Die Dreigroschenoper, or The Threepenny Opera, the 1928
the “Mack the Knife”—like “Utinetown” opening number, when
musical theater masterpiece by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill.
it became increasingly less practical to toe the line. The
The song was “Der Morgenchoral des Peachum” or “The Morn-
Brecht/Weill colors that came easily to me seemed to be a rather
ing Hymn of Peachum,” Mr. Peachum’s wake-up call to his com-
limited palette. I soon rurned to whatever influence or model
pany of beggars. Brecht’s opcning lyrics for Peachum, whi‹-h
seemed appropriate for musically dramatizing the remaining
translate as “Wake up, you rotting Christians,” and which Weill
spots for songs in Greg’s libretto. As a Lutheran church organist,
set with a craftily repetitive melody and droning accompani-
I felt competent to tacMe a hymn tune in “I See a River.” The
 melody of “Tell Her I Love Her” struck Greg and me as chat of a
You have to know and respect a form thoroughly before you can
mournful Irish ballad, well suited to Little Sally’s report to her
satirize it. At our Sunday writing sessions, when we sat around
fellow rcvolutionaries. “Run, Freedom, Run” was a typical
rhe piano at the church, I remember feeling that I was serving as
second-act musical-comedy gospel tune.
the musical theater expert for our collaboration. Greg had never
In spite of a laundry list of stylistic and structural influences
seen a musical on Broadway, whereas I had studied the form for
(the ones that I’m aware of run the gamut from J. S. Bach to the B-
some time, and 1 often found myself suggesting that we turn to
52s), I tried to keep the score from veering into blatant par- ody.
the exemplar American musicals for guidance.
I based this attitude on a rule of thumb in show business: A joke is
Some of those guiding principles were specific; others were
funnier if you don’t smile while you’re telling it. Since I felt
more general. One instance of a specific principle would be thc
confident that Greg’s script as well as his lyric contributions
appeal of a rousing second-act gospel number. Broadway musi-
covered our satirical and parodical bases, I approached che song-
cals provide examples, from Frank Loesser (“Sit Down, You’re
writing with utter seriousness and all the craft I could muster.
Rockin’ the Boat” from days and Doth, 1950) to Frank Wild-
That craft was one I had been honing sincc childhood. My
horn (“River Jordan” from The Ciuil War, 1999). Vr2netown’s
parents indulged me in piano lessons from the age of seven until
score copies this template with the aforementioned “Run, Free-
I left home for college, where I studied music composition and
dom, Run.”
decided that I wanted to write musicals for the rest of my life.
Then there was a moment later in rhe second act, after “Run,
After college, I had the good fortune to study musical-theater
Freedom, Run,” when I rurned to a more general principle for
songwriting wit some extremely able teachers. At the same time
help. It was the point in the story when the rebel poor take to
that I was performing in Chicago’s fringe music and theater
the streets for revenge. be had already attempted to dramatize it
scene, I was also enrolled in the musical-theater writing work-
musically wirh a slow, spooky repfise of “Tell Her I Love Her”
shop of John Sparks. In his classes at Theatre Building Chicago,
that ended up falling flat. In trying to figure out why the reprise
John taught me the anatomy of a theater song, from AABA
failed, I realized that its lugubriousness doomed it. The show
structure to how to build a comedy-song lyric so that the joke
needed a jolt of energy at this juncture, not eerie reflection. I was
comes at the end of the line, where it packs more of a punch.
rcminded of George Gershwin’s comment that just as an army
When I moved to New York in 1993, I continued my studies at
travels on its stomach, musicals travel on two-four (quick tempo)
the BMI Lehman Engel Musical Theatre Workshop, where Skip
time. That anecdote became the inspiration for the late-second-
Kennon and Richard Engquist picked up where John had lefr
act production number/montage “We’re Not Sorry,” which is
off. All during this time I was writing musicals to put these les-
anything but lugubrious.
sons into practice, so that when Greg asked me to work with him
While I thought I had all the answers based on my love of old
in 1996, I had been writing songs for eleven years and had com-
musicals, I soon learned, when I submitted a drafr of the love
pleted three full-length and four one-act musicals.
ballad “Follow Your Heart” to Greg, that simply following those
This training and experience helped me follow another rule of
old paradigms wouldn’t be enough to make the show work.
thumb in show business while writing the score for Urinetown:
He quickly sensed that something was amiss with the number. I
 Originally produced by Theater of the Apes and presented in
August 1999 by the New York International Fringe Festival, a
production of the Present Company. Directed by Joseph P.
McDonnell. Stage manager: Michael Stuart; assistant director /
prop design: kylie Goodman; costume design: Karen Flood;
lighting: Peggotty Roecker; scene design: Jane Charlotte Jones.

OPPICRRLOCflSTOCK
Jaq Rhoderick
LITTLASALlY
Spencer Kayden
BOBBYGFRONG
Wilson Hall
HOPPC£ADV'ELL
Louise Rozett
Adam Grant
PEPTELOr€ rENrivWise Carol Hickey
OFFICER BARREL
Victor Khodadad
MW MCQUBEN
Rob Mariner
ssaAon rirr Terry Cosentino
OLD MW STRONG
Nick Balaban
JOSRPHINB STRONG
Kristcn Anderson
HOW BLADES HARDY
Nick Balaban
SOUnYSUE
Bellavia Mauro
TIWYTOM
Zachary Lasher
HILDAGOJ*NR
Allison Schubert
Raquel Hecker
L1TTLEBRCKYTWO-SOOAS
Bellavia Mauro
M RS. M ILLRNNI UM
Zachary Lasher
M0RS. Kristen Anderson
HENRY
Raquel Hecker
MOREPOOR Victor Khodadad, Terry
Cosentino, Rob Mariner
Victor Khodadad, Allison The following text is based on the production of Urinetawn that
Schubert, Nick Balaban
opened at the Henry Miller on Broadway, September 20, 2001.
Produced by the Araca Group and Dodger Theatricals in associ-
Opened Off-Broadway at the American Theatre of Actors on ation with TheaterDreams, Inc., and Lauren Mitchell. Directed
May 6, 2001, with the same cast as the Broadway production,
by )ohn Rando. Musical staging: John Carrafa. Scenic / environ-
except that the roles of Little Becky Two-Shoes and Mrs. Millen- ment design: Scott Pask; costume design: Gregory Gale and
nium were created and performed by Megan Lawrenc .pggpqp
Jonathan Bixby; lighting design: Brian MacDevitt; sound design:
Jet Curtis and Lew Meade; wig / hair design: Darlene Dan-
nenfelser; fight director: Rick Sordelet; orchestrations: Bruce
Coughlin; musical direction: Edward Strauss; conductor: Ed
Goldschneider; music coordinator: )ohn Miller; production
managers: Kai Brothers and Tech Production Services, Inc.; cast-
ing: Jay Binder, Laura Stanczyk, and Cindi Rus,h; production
stage manager: Julia P. ]ones; general management: Dodger Man-
agement Group; marketing: Dodger Marketing; press representa-
tives: Boneau / Bryan-Brown.

cv szc o c c+ n etc z n a e i in z ci n nn o a n was

OFFICER LOCKSTOCE
Jeff McCarthy
.
• Nancy Opel
1 PENELOPE PENNINE
Hunter Foster
BOBBY STRONG
Spencer Kayden
LITT£E CALLY "
Jennifer Laura
HOPE CLADMLL
Thompson
David Beach
MR MCQUEEN
John Deyle
SRNAIOAFIPP
Ken Jennings
OSD MAN STRO1 IG
}_ HOT
B LAD t S LTARRX
AND TOM / DC BILLMUR Rick Crom
LITTLE BRCKY TO-SHOES / Jennifer Cody
MRS.>rLLPNNDUM
ROBBY THE STO€WZSH / A Gotham-like city

OPPICBRBARRAL
Daniel Marcus
Lawrence E. Street
JOSBPHINE STRONG OSD WOMAN
Kay Walbye Sometime after the Stink Years
John Cullum

GMARACEERW

DFFIDER £OCKSTOcx, a policeman

rHsrn szrix, a paar liiile girl
BOBBY STRONG, ttssutant custodian at the poorest, filthiest urinal in

CWDWE£r a. concsrr, president and owner of Urine food Ca.

more cmnwerz, Cladwells daughter; shed new in town
rsNE£OPE PEN SE, Chief custodian at the poorest, filthiest

OFFICER Bourne, Locbstoch s partner

MW M VReR, Cladw lls right-hand man
sENATOR Flrr, e pmblf°t’ s reunt

OSD MAf STRONG, m pro‘ min, Babbyi other, sh» I'n wn ‹u

oseph S
Joszriiisz srnonG, a peer woman, Bobbys mother, aho knaiun as
Old Ma Strong
££oT BLADRs HAnnv, a yot9r man
sorry siJz, a poor woman
ixv ion, a paar boy
rrrrm azcnv rwo-siioss, a poor woman
R - ILLENNIUM, a Uriye G» d CO. (UGC,) executive

Early morning. The poorest, filthiest urinal in town. Ab»ue the n-

France to the urinal h i tgs a ii that read Public Amenity #9.
THE POOR lie sprawL'd acmss the stage, sleeping quietly. Music for
“Urinetown” plays softly in the background. OFFICER LOCKSTOCK
enters from tic housB, in5pecti£tg thc thea$el‘far arderlinesf. Sa$isfif'd,
he takes his place onstage and addresses the audience directly.

roCxsioCx: Well, hello there. And welcom to Urineca m'n!

(Pause.) Not the place, of course. The musical. Urinetown “the
place” is ... well, it’s a place you’ll hear people referring to a
lot throughout the show.
( eHñLOI•T rr-NNYWISB dcd BOBBY STRoxo entcr Th carry with
them a small table upon which rests a lcdger.)
PzNrrr: You hear the news? They carted Old So-and-So of to
Urinetown the other day.
eonev: Is that so? What he do!
PENrrr: Oh, such-and-such, I hear.
eoeav: Well, whar do you know* Old So-and-So.
(Bobby and Penny set up their mori£fdff0H, pkf'tn the table beside
the entrance ta the amenity as EHR rOOR begin to rñ .)
rocxszocx: Its kind of a mythical plaCe, you understand. A bad
place. A place you won’t see until Act Two. And then ... ?
Well, let’s just say it’s filled with symbolism and things like

BTHE POOR ring the “Urinetawn” theme on an ’ooh” ever so saftly

as th ‹y prepare for another day. LITTLE SAOVT enters, COunfinQ fi8f•
 LODKSTOCK: But Urinetowy “the musical,” well, here
we are.
Welcome. It takes place in a town like any town ... We, we yever fail!
that you And we neuer bother u'ftb jail.
might find in a musical. This here’s the first setting for the /MCQUEEN, FIPP, fH BARREL etfter All sin g.)
show. As the sign says, it’s a "public amenity," meaning
public
toilet. These people have been waiting for hours to get in; it’s
for’II get Urinetown!
the only ameni ty they can aYord to get into.
O you’ll go ta Urinetolé'n!
$LITT£E SALLY pf*fl roaches rocxsrocx.)
Away with you to Urinetown!
SALTY: Say, Officer Lockstock, is this where you tell the
lOCKSTOCx:
audience about the water shortage?
LOCKSTOCK: What’s that, Little Sally?
HOPE CLAowerr enters. As rocxsioCx dnd riTTLfi 8ALLY 'spe‹fb,
LITTLE SALr¥t YOu know, the water shortage. The
hard times. more approaches BOBBY at hfs table.)
The drought. A shortage so awful that private toilets
eventu- rocrsrocx: Later on you’ll learn that these public bathrooms
ally became unthinkable. A premise so absurd that—
are controlled by a private company. They keep admission
LOCKS 9 K: Whoa there, Little Sally. Not all at
once. They’ll high, generally, so if you’re down on your luck, you have to
hear more about the water shoitaq,e in the next scene.
come to a place like this—one of the poorest, filthiest urinals
LITTLR SALTY: Oh. I guess you don’t want to overload them
with in town.
too much exposition, huh›
rrrrcs sziix: And you can’t just go in the bushes either—there’s
mCKSTOCK: Everything in its time, Lirtle Sally. You’re too young
laws against it.
to understand it now, but nothing can kill a show like too
incxsiocx: That’s right, Little Sally. Harsh laws, too. That’s
much exposition.
why Little Sally here’s counting her pennies. Isn’t that so, Lit-
LITTLE SADLY: How about bad subject matter?
tle Sally?
rrrrrs snix: I’m very close, Officer. Only a few pennies away.
ixicxszocx: Aren’t we all, Little Sally. Aren’t we all.
title, even? That could kill a show pretiy (rrrrLz see hecps counting.)
HCKSTOCK: Well, Little Sally, suffice it to say that in Urfnetown
HOPS: Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me the way to the private
(the musical) everyone has to use public bathrooms in
order company that controls these public bathrooms?
to take care of their private business. That’s the central money: You mean Urine Good Company!
conceit
, of the showww! (He sings.) HOPE: That’s the one.
Better hope your pennies
rocxsiocx: (To the nHienrr) You’ll meet the guy who runs
Add ifp to the fee—
Urine Good Company later. That there’s his daughter.
e can’t lfaue'fOy peet'ng
aoaav: It's quite a ways from here, ma’am. This here’s the bad
F'or free.
part of town.
f you do, we’ll catch you.
BOBBY: But if you squint, you can just make out their headquar-
ters rising above the skyline. This is Urinctown!
£-HOPE: The gleaming tower on the hill? One reitroom here at Urinetomn!
eoaar: That’s the one. ltd unisex at Urinetoiun!
iiorz: Gosh, it’s beautiful. All by design.
aozav: You most certainly are. LOCKSTOCK MCQUEEN FI PP, BARRRL•
more. Pardon? It? the oldest story—
BOBBY: It most certainly is. Masses are appressed;
more: Oh dear, I’m late already. Thanks ever so much for the di- faces, clothes, and bladders
rections and such. Bye! (Shc cxiv.) A/f distressed.
moeev: Anytime. Rich folks get the good life,
rocxsrocx: (T• the audience) Well, we’ve talked on long Poor falls get the woe.
enough, I imagine. Enjoy the show. And welcome—to Urine- In the end, it? nothing you dan’t know.
ran (the musical)! arr:
(All siitg.) York it Urinet»wn!
Your ticket should say “Urinetomn’!
V/OMBN: MEN: No refunds, this is Urinetawn!
You, our humble We’ll beep that dough!
audience, You, our humble
You have come to
audience, SOPRANOS: ATOS: Te WOff: BASSES:
see This is
Von have come la
What its like when see The is Urfnetown!
People can I pee Here we are in Its the aldest
People cant pee, P aple Urinetown!
ee. People cant pee frec, can’t pee free! Here we are in Uri n eta w n! sto ry.'

Can’t pee frec. People Urinetawn! This, this is IU the oldest

First act A0 un can’t pee free! This is Urinetomn! story.!
hour. Peaplc Urinetown! Here we are in Its the oldest
first act lasts an
Don i use me you’re
hour cant pee free, they Here wc are in Urinetown! Yes, story, uiith
fine. cant pee free in Urfnetown, here we are in masses op-
Don’t assrrme you’re
Best go now, there fine. yes this is Urinetown!
often is a Often is a, Urinetawn! Urinetown! Urinetown! pressed! Masses,
line. Yes, this is
Often is a line.
 Urinetawn! Urinetoiun! Urinetown! masses OLD Marr STRONG: Bobby! Bobby, reason with the woman. I’m a
Yes, this is oppressed little short this morning.
in iirrr ion: Noshorter than yesterday. Unless I’ve grown.
Urinetomn! Urinetown! Urinetown! Urinetawn! BOaav: He’s my pa, Ms. Pennywise. Can’t he come in for free?
Just this once?
PENrrr: Get your head out of the clouds, Bobby Strong. No one
On uiith the show! gets in for free.
$LOCKSTOCK, BARRer, uCQUBEN, and FI PP 6lfi m PENNY show IS Out OSD MAN STRONo: Now, Ms. Pennywise, we’ve all had to make
iMlTtt £ft0tt$ IO THE POOR. special ... arrangements with people in high places over the’
PPxNv: All right, folks, you know the drill. Form a line and have years. Why not let this one be ours?
yer money ready. We’ll not be repeating yesterday’s fiasco, and sorry suE: If Old Man Strong gets in for free, then so do I!
thai means you, Old Man Strong. TIPSY TOM: And I!
@riE POOR crowd around the amenity /ornzfng a line.) LITTLE BECKY TO-SHORS: And I!
LITTLE 5ALW: ... Four hundred and ninety-six. Four hundred PENNr: Quiet back there! No one’s gettin’ anywhere for free!
and ninety-seven. Just a few more. Don’t you think I have bills of my own to pay!! Don’t you
$MCQUEEN enters, now on his way to work. rITTrs saw rashes to- think I have taxes and tariffs and payoffs to meet, too?! Well,
ward him, her hand stretched out in supplication.) 1 do! (Musical camp for “It’s a Privilege to Pee” begins.) And I
rirrr« szrw: Penny for a pee, sir? don’t pay them with promises, see. I pay them with cash! Cold
$MCQUErN exits. SENATOR FIPP enters.) hard cash. Every morning you all come here. And every morn-
LITTLE 8xLLY: Please, sir, spare a penny for a morning pee, ing some of you got reasons why ya ain’t gonna pay. And I’m
sir* here to tell ya, ya is gonna pay!
rirr: What’s that? - aoaav: But, Ms. Penny—
LITTrs saw: Ora nickel or a dime? PENrrr: No buts, Bobby.
rn•r: Out of my way, child! I’ve peeing of my own to tend to. OLD MAN STRONG: In the name of God, Penny, what difference
rirrrs sxrrv: But— could it make?
FIPP eXitS, LITTLR SALLY join the crowd. At the entrance to the PENNY: What difference?!! (Ouoaged she sings.)
0 Aft ed i If OLD MAN STRONG if argit in g with rENNY.) “Times are hard.’
•’" *OLD STRONG: I haven’t got it! “Our cash is tight. ”
PENNY: Then go get it! “You’re got na right!”I’ve heard it all before.
OLD MAN STRONG: C’mon, Penny, I‘m good for it. “just this once”
rear: That’s what you said last week and I still haven’t seen Is once too mooh,
penny one. And it’s Ms. Pennywise to you. For once they?e anced, they’ll want to once once more,

sa u n i m nzow u
I run the only toilet in this part aftown, you see. OLD MW STRONG: I can’t wait much longer, Bobby. There’s no
to, if you’ue got to go, tellin’ what I might do!
You’re got ta ga through me. PENNY•

Its a privilege ta pee. THE DOOR:

Water i worth its ff7€fQbi in gold these days. Kind of right, kiM of right!
to more bathrooms like the olden days. VENN¥:
You come here and pay a f‹c You think yau’ll come in here and go for free?
For the privilege to pee. THE POOR:

Twenty years we’ve had the drought,

And Our Ye$eYHOir$ hdHe dll dYied Up. The only thing you’ll get is "no”for fee!
I take my baths not in a co]fee cup.
THR FOOR:
I boil what? L•fi of it for tea,
And its a privilege to pee.
Im a business gal, you see.
The politicians in their wisdam saw FHBPOOR:
That there should be a law. Business gal you see!
The politicians taxed the toilets
And made illegal iris mon:
Public urination and defecation. I sell the privilege to pee! It? a privilege to pee!

No, come and giue your coins to me. PENHY:

Write your name here in the record good. The gaod Lard made us sa we’d piss each M y
The authorines will want to look UHtfl we piss away.
If you’ue been regular with me, The good Lord made sure that what goes in mcn
If you’ve paid the proper fec, Must saon come ant again,
Far the privilege ta pee. So you re no di]ferenI, then,
(Ritz roos sing the main “Its a privilege to pee” under the follotuing.) from lou'ly me.
money: But, Ms. Pennywise— THEPOOR:
PENNY: I said no buts, Bobby. You’re a sweet-lookin’ boy and I M‹,
likes to keep you around, but this man ain’t comin’ in without
lowly me›
payin’. Not this time.
Lowly me,

I h e R us ica I
 rrrix ascxv two-SHOzs: He’s peein’ right there on the pave-

aoaav: But, Ms. Pennywise— tiny row: If he’s goin’, then I’m goin’!
" OLD Mm STRONG: That’s enough, Bobby. (oPPI HERS LOCKSTOCK dnd BnriRrL enter.)
cocrsiocx: Oh no, you’re not!
And I think I’ll charge you twice, annnEL: All right, then! Make way!
OLD MAN STRONe' incxsiocn: Make way, damn you! Make way!
No need to jeopardize your position. OLD Mart sTRONG: Ahhh. That’s better.
tENNY: nonrsz: So, if it ain’t Old Man Strong.
Or better yet, have you arrested OLD MAT I STRONG: The same.
OLD MAN STRONG: I’m through with all this, you see. cocxszocx: Is this your doing, Strong*
own usu srRonc: lt is.
Since you prefer the law gets test d. cocxsiocx: Seize him!
OLD MAN STRONG: Scrapin‘ cash three times a day. B i Rei rS OLD MAN STRONG.$
PENNY: THE POOR: ds@.

And in Urinetown you’ll see rocxsTOCic: You’ve done a terrible rhing here today, Strong.
OLD MAN STRONG: Crazy with the nitrates half the time. OSD MAN STRONG: I did what I thought was necessary.
rznrrv: Grab a mop, Bobby. Never thought Id live to see the day.
rocnsrocx: Breaking the Public Health Act is an exiling of-
OLD MAN STRONG: It’s no way to live, I tells ya! No way to live! fense, Strong.
owners: Quite exiling.
F'ar the privilege ta pee! OSD MAN STRONo: What if it is? I feel better now, and that’s all I
cares about.
aoaav: Oh, Pa.
EBNNV AND PO OR: LOCxsiocx: Always knew we’d get you in the end, Joseph
Huh! Strong. Take him away!
HOLD MAN STRONG fiyds a wall and undoes hu panu ta pcs.) /BARREL dr igs OLD MAM STRONG dMH/./
aoaav: Pa! Pa, what are ya doin’?! Have ya lost your mind?! OLD Mxx STRONG: Bobby!
OSD MAN STRONG: More than that, boy! A wh ole lot more BoBBv: Pa!
than that! (He starts peeing. A police whistle is heard in the dis- OLD Mr sTRONG: Don’t forget me, Bobby!
tance.) monzv: I won’t, Pa!
sorry say: Looky there! OLD MnN SrnONG: And tell yer mother ... tell yer mother that I
ROBBY THE 8TOCKFISH: It’s Old Man Strong! He ain’t waitin’! love her!

The 8uxieal e
aoaav: I will, Pa! I will!
own uw smoke: Remember me, boys! Oh God, what have I
done!! Remember me! The mecutiue o]fces of Urine Good Camp my. CALDWELL B. CMD-
(They exfi. LOcKSiocx sings.)
LOCI{STOCK:
Remember, Bobby, what became ofhm. Birr: Where’s my dough?!
riiz room: CLADwcrr: Isn’t that what we’re all asking ourselves, Senator?
Remember! Where’s my dough? From the cop walking his beat to the little
rocxsrocx: baby asleep in his mother’s arms, we’re all asking the same
How he indulged a whim. question: Where’s my dough! And by dough, of course, I
THE yOOR: mean money.
Remember.! FIPr: I made my speech! Where’s my dough?!
LOCKSTOCK:
cmnwcrr: OF, there’ll be plenty of dough for everyone, Sena-
Remember for he made a mockery. tor, once the new fee hikes breeze through the Legislature.
He shunned the crockery. rir•r: I was hoping to wait for the vote during my latest fact-
Offt the d k«y! finding mission—to Rio! Wouldn’t want to be around once
Don’t be like him. the new fee hikes breeze through.
BTHE POOR sing the refrain “Don’t be like him” under thethawing.) cowcLs: You rhink I’ve gone too far this time, don’t you, Fipp?
BoBaY: “What became of him”i What do you mean by thar? $HOPE enters.)
LOCKSTOCK: Just keep your head out of the clouds, that’s all I’m Firr: It’s a powder keg out there, Cladwell. This time I think it’s
saying. Good day. (He exits.) gonna blow!
PRNNY: All right, who’s ready to pay!! HOPE: Daddy?
sourv see: It’s my last few dollars, but I'll pay. CLADWEkL PIP£• AND MCQUEEN: Whaa—?!
iIN¥ TOP: Me, too! c£ADwsiL: Hope darling, I thought you’d never get here!
LITTLE BECxv rwo-SHOzs: Me, too! (Thy embr‹u:e.)
sourv DUE: We’ll all pay, Bobby Strong! Always and forever, just norm: Sorry I’m late, Daddy. I left just as soon as my exams were
so long as you keep lettin’ us pay! finished.
aoaav: Oh, I’a! that’s to become of you! cmnwzrr: How’s everything, dear!
PENNY: Back to work, then, Bobby! The morning rush is on! iiOPE: Fine, Daddy. Just fine. It feels great to be done with
school. Finally.
c weLL: You see there, Mister McQueen! Beautiful, big-
hearted, and now with a head filled with the best stuff money
can buy.

o uaio can n o
wcquzzn: Well, if the stuff in her head is nearly as big as the
stuff in her heart, I’m sure she’ll be running this company in
no time. (vcqusEN lan kS. CLADWELL doesn’t.
C£ADMLL: That’ll be all, Mister McQueen.
ucquzEri: Yes, of course.
(He exits. rirr approaches HorE.j
FIPP: Well, I’ll be. Hope Cladwell, and all grown up, too.
norm: Hello, Senator.
rirr: Come to join your father’s little operation?
HOPE: It’s just a fax/copy position, of course. First day.
FIPP: A fax/copy girl, huh? (Taking her Fund) Well, your father
mentioned he was bringing on a new fax /copy girl. He ne-
glected, however, to mention how beautiful she’d be. You’d be.
You’re so beautiful. Even as a little girl 1 always thought—
CiADWErL: That’s enough, Fipp.
Firr: Yes, of course.
cmnwzrr: Well, we won’t keep you, Senator; it’s a big day. I’m
sure you’ll have your hands full on the floor of the
Legislature, what with the fee-hike vote and all.
FIPP: Oh, they’ll be full, Cladwell. And by this time tomorrow I
fully expect them to be full of cash.
CLADWELL: Oh, they’ll be full of cash, Senator. We'll all be full of
cash, provided the vote comes through.
rirr: Oh, the vote will come through, Cladwell. Ir’ll come
through just as long as you come through with the cash.
cLADWEL£: No worries there, Senator. Once the vote comes
through, there’I1 be nothing else to come through but the cash.
Fire: And no need to worry about the vote
cmnwsLr: Fipp! I think we understand each odier.
FIPP: Yes. WCll. Goodbye, (He cxiv.)
CLADW tLr: Let’s meet the staff. Staff!
(ucc sxnrr enters.)
concern: Staff, this here’s my daughter—and our newest
fax/copy girl—Hope Cladwell. Hope Cladwell, the good
people of Urine Good Company, or UGC, as it’s known for
short.
iiOPE: Hello, everybody!
sec sisrr: Hello, Hope!
CrADML£: Say a few words, Hope darling.
more: Well ... uh ... it’s a great company and I hope to help
you make it even greater.
(All applaud.)
CLADMir: Well, that’s absolutely right, Hope dear, absolutely
right. For you see, ladies and gentlemen, twenty years ago we
came to the people of this community with a simple proposi-
rion: Look the other way while we run this company the way
we see fit, and we will keep the pee off the street and the wa-
ter in the ground. Hope here has come to join our little oper-
ation, to help us keep that promise, so promise me you’ll treat
her like the Cladwell she is, for one day (Vamp for “Mister
C’ladwell” begins.) she may be standing in the shoes you see me
wearing today, the shoes I wore when I made that promise
those many years ago. (He sings.)
I src gray shies, foreboding and cold!
I saw gray shies and made them rain gold! ’
how those séfeJ arent $O bleak to behold!
Theyre still gray
But they pay
Far your sal’ries tenfold!
I took this town that formerly stand, .
I tool this town and made it smell scant!
I made flushing mean flush at the bank!
Im the man
Ihe Ig us ic al
With the plan, MCqUERN:
And so whom should yau thank? All those coins that wc takc from the throng
M CQUEEN:
End up here where those coins all belong.
Whom? Lots ofcoins make our company strong!
CHORUS: *LADILL:
Mister Cladwell, Charging fees

for that handful ofdough.' Is on:r righ its not wrong!

Yaw’re a toreador, . MC UEAN:
And lbs cash that you gore! Were not greedy, as some make as seem.
Could we hope for much pore* We need fnA for our big research team.
We really doubt it!
CL DMRLL: Men fn labcoats and test tubes with steam!
You may be right there!
CHORUS:
Met r Ckdm II,
You’re got riches,
Which is jwt what we need! *CQUI'EN:

Hall to you, the date of the ducats!

*HORUS: HO2R:
Mister Cladwell Da—
I can bring in bucks by the buckets!
binding answers, Da, da, da, da, Daddy!
Curing cancers afdoubr!
Th ti my dat'
Yarr ambitions are high,
'aster still than bees making honey!
Btit you’re humble ar
C£-£ORUS:
pic! What a wonderful
You be Mister Cladwell!
guy! We simply loye yoy!
norm: Gosh, I never realized large, monopolizing corporations
could be such a force for good in the world.
cowrrr: Few do.

the uusical
CHORUS:
morz: Gosh, Daddy, they certainly do seem to adore you. So
Daodle-oodle-non!
why do I feel so conflicted!
Doodle-oodle-can!
crowzrr: Nonsense. Did I send you to the Most Expensive
DaodJe-oodle-
University in the World to teach you how to feel conflicted, or
O dh'-« dL'-
to learn how to manipulate great masses of people?
Odds'-«»dk-
HOPE: To learn how to manipulate great masses of people,
Oodle—oodL'!
Daddy.
CMDMLL: WhiCh is exactly what we’ll do. Now get faxing!
WOMEN: MEN: riors: And copying!
Bvm£
€£ADMLr: And—welcome home.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom! Scene 3
CHORUS:
light. A street corner. LITTLE SArY counts her pennies. OFFICER
Bourn!
rocxszocx enters.
Mister Cladwell,
You re so godly,
rITTkE SONY: ... Five hundred and thirty-seven, five hundred
er ect and ri ht!
and thirty-eight, just a few more ...
LOCRSTOCx: Well hello there, Little Sally. Awfully late for a
You are continental yet unpretentious! little girl to be out and about. Especially on a night like
WOMEN:
tonight.
fancy-fee, yet so conscientious!
LITTT swrY: Oh. Just tryin’ to scrape together a few coins be-
fore the late-night rush is all. Got one to spare*
Wire but trendy, rocxsiocx: Sure, Little Sally. I’m in a good mood tonight. (He
CHORUS:
‘ tosses her a coin.)
Goodness jews from you like a fountains LITTLE SALix: Gee, thanks. (She squirrel the cain away.) Say, Of-
You re Mister, you re Mister ficet Lockstock, I was thinkin’. We don’t spend much time on
cLADwELL: hydraulics, do we?
Cladwell! rocxsiocx: Hydraulics, Little Sally!
cHonus: r£iTrE SADLY: You know, hydraulics. Hydration. Irrigation. Or
Cladwell! just plain old laundry. Seems to me that with all the talk of
 water shortage and drought and whatnot, we might spend (Vamp begins%r “Cop Song. ”)
some time on those things, too. After all, a dry spell would af- LOCK8TOCK: If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years enforc-
fect hydraulics, too, you know. ing the laws of this city, it’s that the journey down to Urine-
rocxsrocx: Why, sure it would, Little Sally. But ... How shall town offers no surprises. Not even from the very toughest
I put it? Sometimes—in a musical—it’s better to focus on one amongst us. On that journey expect Only the expected. (/-be
big thing rather than a lot of litde things. The audience tends zjgg.)
to be much happier that way. And it’s easier to write. Its a hard, cold t:u mble ofa journey
Worthy ofa gurney a bumbk lawn,
riTTLc SALY: One big thing, huh?
A slapped face, smacked c/r6 e mace,
rocxsrocx: That’s right, Little Sally. Certain to debase, is our srumbk down.
LITTLE SALrY: Oh. (Pause.) Then why not hydraulics?
rocxsiocx: (Chuckles.) Run along, then, Lirtle Sally. Wouldn’t Its a path that leads you anly one
want you to miss last call. Ms. Pennywise won’t hold the gate place, Horrible to retrace, a crumble
forever, you know.
down.
LITTLE SALLY: Oh, yeah, right. Thanks for the coin! Bye!
A hard, cold tumble ofa tourney,
(She hurries off. aARoi enters, carryfng a shouel and a mop.)
Jumble o[a journg to Urinetown.
annncL: What a night. LOcKSTOCK AUD BARREL:
iocxsTOcK: Everything cleaned up all right, Mister Barrel?
Julie Cassidy
BARREL: Sure, same as always. Did you hear him screm, though,
bent to a field behind u trre,
Mister Lockstock?
Saw there was no one who could see
rocxszocx: Old Man Strong*
LOCRSTOCK:
BARREL: All the way down to Urinetown.
Her pee
LOCKSTOCK: Oh yes, I heard him, Mister Barrel. But then, they t¢ggyt.
all seem to scream in the end now, don‘t they! As their long
But me!
journey into ”exile’ comes to a close and the spires of Viine-
LocKsT'ocx AND BAe.nBL:
town peek above the horizon! They do scream then, Mister
And J«b Ru ubk m
Barrel. They most certainly do.
Thought be i›uas sa e up in his raom,
(Thy range.)
Didnt know the jars he kept up there
cancer: I suppose I thought tie might be different, somehow.
Would obligate a trip to a urine tomb!
rocKsTOcK: Different?
(More tors enter)
anenrr: Old Man Strong. Always seemed a bit tougher than the Lopq$yopp;
rest. I was hoping he might ... I don’t know ... surprise us,
There are those who think our methods victor
pg somehow. pp p ggpqp
BARREL:

Overly malicious—
lOCKSTOCB: Soon learned power of the truncheon.
A bunch fb r«tes. But its wc who gather far the people Organize a fiinctian, King t» pawn.
BARRAL: So if peace is what your after,
Tavern ta the srrep/r— Urinetowns the rafter ta hang it on.
lOCKSTOCKAND BARRBl:

GIRLCOP 1:
kOC,KSTOCK• /«fie Cassidy—
Our tab: bring a little order—
BAnerL:
BOX COP 1' aov cor 2:
Smindk not a h ‹trd r—
Jacob R s nbl»m—
£ocxsTocx:
Roger
From what be foots. As the book says, “Certainly a season"—
Jacob Rosenbloam— Rooseuelt—

iACxsToCK AND BxRnBL: Bov coP 3: GIRLCOI/ 1:

ALL:
with LObi'idil TOOUS! Joseph
Roger Roosevelt Don t be like them! Old Man Ser ng—
Kept a cup beloiu his belt, '
Cup ran ouer when he knelt,
LocxsTocK AND BAnnHL: Glni cors: BOYCOPS:
rocxsrocx: Don’t be likc them! Don’t be like
them!
He smelt Dent be like them! Don’t be like them! Don I be like tlietii,!
BAnnzr: Dent be like them! Don’t be like thrm! Don’t be like them!
We dealt.
ALL: BgyCOwS:
And Joseph “Old Man” Strong Its a hard, cold
Held his pee for much too long, Tumble ofa Journey, Its a hard, cold
ffoped his sDfI nlighf' bail JiMI atft. Worthy ofa gurus, Tumble cfs joiim y , lti e herd, retd
His guess mas goad but aho wrong! A bumbL' d u'n, Worthy ofa gurney, Tumble ofa journey,
rocxsyocx: A slappcd face. A bumble down, Worthy ofa gurus,
Years part all lived in a jungle, Snuicbed with a macc, A slappcd face, A bauble down,
Scooping out a bangle, matures boiul. Certain ta Abuse, Smacked with a mace, A slapped face,
Life ofconstant ‹f•priuation, Is our stumbL' down. Certain to Obese. Smacked with a
 $LocxsTocx takes HoPE k hand)
ALL: '
rocxsiocx: I must say, Ms. Cladwell, your father mentioned
Its a path that leads you only one place,
the size and purity of your heart. He neglected, however, ro
Horrfble to retrace, a crumbs dawn,
mention the size and purity of your beauty. (He hisses her
A hard, cold tumble ofa taurnz,
Ju m He ofa jo u rn ey to Uriitetorun!
hand.)
norm: Does beauty have a size, Officer?
ix›cxsrocx: Off you go, then, boys. And happy hunting.
roc«siocx: In some countries.
(The cors scramble ajf. rocxs’rocx e»d amusi linger.)
/BOBBY STRONG enters, unseen.)
’gsggzr: Hm ... yes. So, have you made plans for your journey
LOCK8TOCK: I’d take care on these streets late at night, Ms. Clad-
well. There’s no telling what some people wouldn’t do for a
LOCxsiocx: To Urinetown!!
few coins.
BARRRr: To Rio, of course.
aannzr: Especially these days, what with the new fee hikes and all.
rocxsiocx: Oh. Yes. Rio. Well, I had to squeeze Cladwell a bit
more: Oh, I’m not afraid of people, Officers.
tighter than usual for our monthly payoffs, extortion fees,
rocxsiocx: Oh, no!
money bribes, and such. But—
norm: Not really. Everyone has a heart, you see. As long as you
know that you need never fear a soul.
sxnnsc: Caution, Mister Lockstock. It would seem we’re no
rocxsrocx: Everyone?
longer alone.
HOPE: Everyone.
rocnsiocx: Well, I’ll be.
axnnzr: Even criminals?
manner: If I’m not mistaken, that there’s his daughter.
HOPE: Even criminals.
rocrsiocx: So it is. And all grown up, too. (To HOrz) Ms.
aoaav: Even policemen?
Cladwell! A little late for you to be out, don’t you think?
roczsiocx on cancer: Whaa—?!
more: Oh, hello, Officers.
aanavr: Bobby Srrong!
LOCKSTOCK: If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were on a late-
rocxsiocx: Out a bit late, don’t you think?
night- behind- the-bushes- to- relieve-yourself-for- free kind of
aoaav: Out late taking care of another late-night rush is all.
walk.
There’s talk of more fee hikes, people are getting edgy.
HOPE: Oh no, Officers. I’m just coming home from work. First
cocxsiocx: Are they* Well, I’m glad to hear you were otherwise
day.
engaged. Wouldn’t want to put you under suspicion for taking
runner: Long hours.
a late-night-behind-the-bushes-
zocxsiocz: Just like us.
aoaav: I don’t need to do that anymore, Officers. Not while I
Horn: There’s some kind of big vote down at the Legislature
work for Penny, I don’t.
tonight. Plenty of faxing to do.
anneri: Bur you still need to keep your head out of the clouds
BARREL: And copying, I imagine.
now, don’t you?
tors: Oh yes. And copying.
 aoaav: What do you mean by that? OLD MAN sTRONG: Bobby! Bobby, reason with the woman! I‘m a
ixicxsiocx: What he means is, you’re a good boy, Bobby little short this morning!
Strong. See that you don’t end up like your father. urrr zoo: Noshorter than yesterday. Unless I’ve grown.
moray: And how did my father end up? (They disappear.)
(Pause.) nowBY: Or, rathet, something I didn’t do.
LOCxsiocx: Well, we’re off. Our work’s never done. Good night. HOPE: If it feels Cold, then it must still be there, don’t you think?
more: Good night, Ofhcers. aoaav: Unless there’s a vacuum where it used to be.
enaimr: Good night, Bobby. norm: A vacuum? In your chest? It sounds so implausible.
(They Ni.) aoaav: I did something wrong this morning is all I’m trying to
p^riors: You were rather brave with them. say. I can’t seem to get it out of my head.
moeev: I don’t care for policemen. Not those two, anyway. mock: The vacuum?
more: Policemen protect the peace. moenv: My action. I let someone down that I love dearly. I feel
BOBBv: Do they? real bad about it.
more: Usually. HOPE: Well, maybe that’s nature’s way of telling you that now’s
(Pause.) the time to lifr someone up!
eoaav: Didn’t I see you down by the amenity this morning? eonev: Really!
HOPE: That was me. I was rushing off to work, first day. HOPE: Sure. Do you think you’d be feeling as bad as you do if
aoaav: Find your way all right! you didn’t have a heart!
HOPE: The gleaming tower on the hill? Couldn’t miss it. (Musical uamp begins for “follow Your Heart. “)
money: Beautiful. mozev: I don’t know. I suppose not.
iiorE: It’s rather shiny, that’s true enough. HOPR: Of course you wouldn’t. Because then you’d be dead. (She
(Pause.) sings.) ’
aoaav: Did you mean what you said to those policemen? About When darkness surrounds you
everyone having a heart? And you lose your wey,
HOPE: Well, sure I did. You have your own compass
aoaav: Because ... well, because mine feels awful cold just That tub night to day,
now. And its even iuith yaw
HOPz: Cold? Before yau: de9art.
BOBBx: Or empty. One of the two. Be still, hear it beating
iiOPE: Not because of me, I hope? Its leading you.
moeev: Oh no. Because of something 1 did. follow your heart.
(The ghost of or STRONG and oro¥ TOM dp flFdr iH thy YES- aoaav: Follow my heart? But to where?
tance.) HOPs: To wherever your heart tells you to go.

ae The Bus iea I

aoaav: Even ... (He looks around) ... there? Follow, someone Is waiting there,
irons: Even to the clouds, if that’s what your heart commands. Someone iuho shares all your hopes
fat’s it saying now? And your joys.
aoaav: I don’t know. I don’t know how to listen to my heart. “Someone is waiting there"! Why, my heart was saying those
(Mwic faded.) exact words just the other day.
norm: You have to listen carefully. Here, let me try. (She pm hrr aoaav: It was!
ear to BOBBx I chest.) more: Sure it was. “Squalor and noise,” “hopes and joys.” It was
aoaav: Do you— telling me about all those things.
HOPE: SShh! (Music begfn5 again.) Ah , there it is. It’s saying (The aoaax: I didn’t know two hearts could speak as one.
sinffs.) HOPE: I didn’t either. Until now. Here, listen.
We all want a world (Shc brinfy BOBBY s ear to her chest. He sings.)
Pilled with peace and with joy BoBav:
With plenty af water for cach girl and boy. Someday I’ll meet someone
That bright, shining world those heart joins with mine,
Is Just waiting to start. Aortas and arteries all intertwined.
to meanness or sorrow, Thy’ll beat so much stronger
just cleanness tomorrow, Thorn thy could apart.
If Only y0H f0ll0w yottr heDrt. light chambers of muscle to hustle
You see there? Even your heart knows you should follow your heart. The love in our heart.
aoaav: “Peace and joy.” “Plenty of water.” I guess I do want BOBBY AND HOPE•
those things. Love is hind and considerate,
nors: There’s something else your heart was saying. Maybe Laac k peaceful and fair
something I shouldn’t have heard. done can creek up i» iud&nly —
aoaev: There was! When you least think of it,
core: I think so. It was barely audible, but I definitely heard Your love ñ there.
something.
aoazv: Well? What was it? br elf want a world
iiOPE: Let me try again, maybe I can make it out this time. (She Filled north peace and with joy
listens. Music begins again,) There it is. So faint ... it’s saying With plenty a justice
(the sings.) for each girl and boy.
OllOtf', into the Opt?n Dir, That bright, shining world
Far from squalor and noise. Is)ust waiting to start.

ao
No anger or badness,
oozed out slowly, until it bursts forth in one mighty cathartic
tt$$ l•ZttghTer Dnd gladtte$$,
moment! Somewhere in Act Two. With everybody singing,
If OMIT I fO/fOff Mott Fk ed of:.
and rhings like that.
$HOPE eXiends het• hDntf.)
(Pause.)
HOPE: Well, good night ...
LITTLE SArrY: Oh, I get it.
(Scene-change mwic.)
money: Bobby. Bobby Strong. (He pulh her clase to him.)
ix›cxsrocx: Well, I should be going. It’s time for the next scene.
norm: Good night, BobbY Strong.
LITTLR sncix: The next morning at the amenity, when the new
(They kiss.)
fee hikes are announced?
BOgBv: And good night ...
LOCKSTOCK: That’s the one. So long for now, Little Sally. And
more: Hope.
keep your head down.
aoaev: Good night, Hope. I won’t forget what you said, about
(He exin. Segue into ...)
the clouds and my heart.
HOPz: And I won’t forget what you said, about the laughter and
the gladness.
Scene 4
(He mms to ga. rocnsioe and LITTLE SALLY eyt(er unseen.)
more: Wait a minute, when can I see you again?
The poorest, filthiest urinal fH tort. BOBBY enters fs McQUEEN €0n-
BOBBv: In this darkness I’m afraid you can’t see me at all. But
cludes an announcement he is delivering to Tim POOR.
a bright, shining world is waiting to start, I can feel it. Gome to
Amenity Number Nine tomorrow. I’ll show it to you. (Ne e›ia.,1
MCQUEEN: And so with this piece of paper the UGC awards
MTT e sxrrv: She loves him, doesn’t she, Officer Lockstock?
Amenity Number Nine the first of our new and entirely legal
incxsiocx: Sure, she does, Little Sally. He’s the hero of the
fee hikes, which we hope you all will honor and enjoy.
show, she has to love him.
rHr. roon: Enjoy?!/Legal?!/Etc.
(more exits.)
MCQUEEN: Of ceurse, no one knows better than the good people
LITTLE SALs: Yeah. Everyone loves Bobby Strong. (Pawe.)
at Urine Good Company how difficult times are, but research
What’s it like, Officer Lockstock?
into finding the long-term solutions we need is expensive. So,
rocxsrocx: What’s what like, Little Sally?
for the time being, our decision is firm and we look forward to
LIABLE Snzix: Urinetown.
going to Rio with our new profits. (Pause.) I mean, we look
rocxsiocx: Oh, I can’t tell you that, Little Sally.
forward to finding lasting solutions ... and things like that.
rzzzrz sarrv: Why nor!
Good luck, Ms. Pennywise, see you in ... well, you know
rocnszocx: Because it’s a secret, that’s why. Its power depends
where. (He exits.)
on mystery. I can’t just blurt it out, like “There is no Urine-
vis ion: You can’t do this to us, Ms. Pennywise! It’ll be off to
town! We just kill people!” Oh no. The information must be
Vr1neiown for the lot of us sooner or later if you do!

an
rzNrrr: And it’ll be old to Urinetown for me if I don’t. Now get PENS: The same as it’s always been.
in line and have your money ready—the new fee-hike money,
BOBBv:
that is! As the world turns IO fat the ›«u and start another day
aoaav: Ms. Pennywise!
It suddenly
P£Nrrv: Bobby Strong! Where the hell have you been!!
Occurs to me
money: Sorry I’m late, Ms. Pennywise. I was up all night think- That maybe w •• a nd another way.
ing, is all.
Load at the slry,
rznrrr: Up all night thinking, is it?! You work here now, Bobby,
Full of hope and promise.
you don’t need to go in the bushes anymore.
It’s a shining ideal.
aoaav: I wasn’t—
How I reel
PENS' Like father, like son, that’s what I say. Now let’s get to
when I job ut the thy.
work.
PENrrr: Now, who’s firstf
aoaav: But it was about my father that I was thinking, Ms. Pen- JOssPriIN« STRONG: 1 am!
nywise. About what happened to him yesterday. About what’s BOBBY: Ma!
happening to all of us.
PENrrr: We’ll take your fee now, Mrs. Strong. The improved fee,
PENrrv: He broke the law yesterday, Bobby, and that’s the end
that is.
of it.
BOBBY:
aoaav: But what if the law is wrong? Daily we matte them pay their nicheh, dimes, and qtt48!8r!—
(Pause.) JossPHiNE: But this is all 1 have, Ms. Pennywise.
PzNi'ff: What did you say?
aoaBv: I said, what if the law is wrong, Ms. Pennywise?! Whar if
all this is wrong?!
PENNY: Wrong?! You’ve got a sweet-lookin’ head, Bobby, a
BOBBY:
sweet- lookin‘ head! (Vamp begins for “Look at the Sky.”) But
And we kep filling mans:ybags with broken liyes and dTedM,
you keep it up there in the clouds day after day after day, and
But whatl it for?
it’s gotta come down from there. You hear me!! Get that
I cant ignore
head out of the clouds, Bobby Strong! You get it out of the These black, immoral profit-making schemes.
clouds!
Looh at the sky,
BOBBY:
High aboue this smrsJ.
Off in the distance theres a beautiful horizon—
Here beloiu feel our share.
PENS: All right, folks, you know the drill. It must stop in the name
g ggt.
Of the slrf.
Gleaming and radiant, it’s what I’ll keep my eyes on—

ce unioc•omn
JoszrHlNE: Here’s all I have, Bobby. Is it Ttiz roon:
enough? money: You hold on to that money, Ma. Whcrc the peaple’s allcgiance W it g*''
JOSEPHINz: Really? monzv: Tell me where!
PENNY: The fee is the law, Bobby Strong. She’ll abide by it or
she’ll join her husband.
aoaev: And what if there was a new law in town, Ms.
Pennywise? A new law that didn’t come from any voting
process or elected body or process of judicial review, but a
brand-new law that came from an organ. That’s right, a
muscular, blood-pumping organ. (Hr thumps his chest.) Like THRBOOR:
this one. Right here. We can win
rrNNY: A muscular organ? If w• .
aoaar: Can’t you see it, Els. Pennywise? Well, if thi.s one’s too We begin
sma]l for you, why not try this one on for size!! (He directs her when o• load at thc s@/
rznnv: Oh, Bobby, what’s to become of you? What’s to become
PANE: It’s ... it’s blinding me!

{p§p/¿{
Theres a great big heart there!
Theres a heart TH£pOOR: BOBBY:
In the slay. gO dAA fS@
There Jet
is.
Dank ask why—
It’s the sky! THE pOOR:
rzxm: Don’t do this, Bobby. You’ll regret it. Hi a banncr so side,
tioeer: I don‘t think so. C’mon, Ma. This one’s on the house. flying proudly with pride
For everyone! Forever!
buz roon: Hooray! BOBBY:
SOUI/YSUE:
Your heart knows all things great and true. iHRyOOR:
In the s@/
The things mere brains can never Gnaw!
}OSB2HINE:
Your hcart paints to the great, big blu•—
 Scene 5
The o]fces af Urine lead C0fftpany. cmDwrri coHfers with FIPP.
cmnMrL: You’ll be off to Rio, then, 1 imagine?
rirr: Already got my ticket.
CcAOMLr: GOOd work on the floor of the Legislature, Fipp. It
was touch-and-go there for a while, I understand.
riI'n: tell, your “Beaches of Rio” slide show changed their minds
soon enough. Just like it changed my mind those many years
ago. God, I wish I’d never met you, Caldwell B. Cladwell.
$HOrz enters carrying a stack ofpapers.)
HOnz: Sorry to interrupt, Daddy. I just wanted to make sure you
got your morning faxes.
cnanwerr: Why, Hope, you’re absolutely glowing!
rim: It would seem that office work agrees with her. that with
the faxing and all.
crxnwcrr: And the copying.
Plrr: Oh yes. The copying. You’re a good girl, Hope Cladwell. I
used to be one. Before I met your father.
HOPE: A good girl?
rim: You heard me. (He pulh mad of bills from his packet and
. Six hundred and rwenty-two. Six
hundred and rwenty-three. Just a few morc.
HOrz: Daddy? Can I ask you a question?
cmnwzrr: Sure, Hope darling. What is it?
iioPr.: Do you believe in love?
cMDMLr: Love? Why do you ask*
more: Just wondering. I met this boy, you see—
MCQUEES, rocxsiocx, and usNNv enter)
mac tozax: Sorry to inrerrupt, disrer Cladwell. We’ve goc ä liccle
problem.
r•susv: Caldwell. (Mttsicdl £iff7 .,I Long time, no see.
cmnwert: Ms. Pennywise. (Another musical st:iHf.)
PENNY and cmoB^ELL share a loog, meant Afl %88-)
Nine,
McQUesN: An ay ... ir’s about Public Amenity Number
sir. The people there have rioted.
connor: Rioted..
them.
rcNNv: They’re peeing for free, Caldwell. I tried to stop
pocxsiocx: The assistant custodian is refusing to take people’s
money, sir. A young man by the name of Bobby Strong.
iiOPE: Bobby Strong?
iocxsiocx: They’ve rescinded the Public Health Act.
uCQUEBs: And the Water Preservation ACt.
sirr: Can they do that?!
MCQUEEN: Strictly symboliC, sir. The crowd gathered there is an
unthinkably small percentage of the population as a whole.
xors: fat’s happening, Daddyi I don’t undef StBf\d.
to
c wsLL: 1 wouldn’t expect a good and pure heart like yours
understand.
Just
ncxsiocx: Mister Barrel and I are ready, Mister
Cladwell.
give the word.
rirr: What did I tell you, Cladwell? It’s a powder keg out rhere,
me. (dr
and I have a very important plane to catch! Excuse
If FH$ CO JO.
where. Not until we nip this unpleasantness in the bud.
HOrE: Nip* How so*
c nwerr: You're a Cladwell, Hope. What would you dO if lâtfl
the
very foundation of your life’s work were threatened by
rabble-rousing son of a convicted crimlnN?
What
cora: Look deep into his heart and try to understand
made it pound so angrily.
c w @: Angry, you say?! No one gets angry at me! Not with-
out a beafing!
P£OPE: A beating? Oh, Daddy, beating people is wrong. A littL' bunny at a tollbooth.
cLnnweLL: Life is a beating! The sooner you learn that, the He needs a measly ffty cenn.
better.
OHY /f£r/r bunny didn t plan ahead.
HOPE: Then life is wrong.
Poor bunny simply doesn’t have the br <d!
cmowcrL: Embrace it. I have.
He befy for mercy, but gets jail instead.
norm: Life should be beautiful.
Hasenp effer k in the air
CLADMLL: Life is many things. Look deeper, you’ll see it. I do. As the bunny gets the chair!
(Vamp for “Don’t Be the Bunny” begins.) I see ‘it everywhere.
See the moral, people?
(He siygs.)
toe sixrF: Clear as day, boss!
A little bunkf fn the meadow
CLAD il:
Is nibbling gross without a care. Don’t be the bunny.
Heb s delightful u h‹ haps for you.
Dont be the dape.
You say “ii, Bynny ” and he nap for you.
Dent be the loser.
You pull your trigger and be drops for you.
You re much better than that, Hape!
Goodbye, Bunny-baa,
You’re born to pow’r
Hella, rabbft Item!
You’re in the money!
Get me, boys?
Advice to you—
UGc SrAsF: You tell ’em, boss!
M CQUEEN AND PIPP:
C£nDWPrL:
In re.’ the bunny—
Day’t be the bunny.
CLADV'ILL:
Done be the stew.
Dan’t be the bunny!
Don’t be the dinner
more: A little bunny at a tollbooth›
You hatie better things to do.
cmDWELr: You heard me.
It aim no joke.
nor s: But, Daddy, bunnies don’t drive cars.
Thati why it’s funny. cmnwzrr: Oh, don’t they?!
So take yaur cue.'
iiOPE: No, actually, I don’t think they do.
Day’t be the bunny. CenDMkk: Live long enough, Hope darling, you see ... many
Dank be the bunny.
things.
Horz: But, Daddy, we’re talking about people, not animals. HOPE: Even a daughter doubting her father!
c wrrr: People are animals, Hope darling. c wear:
HOPE: Animals with huge incisors and big floppy feet!
A littL' bunny in a Shae box.
CLADMLL: Look closely, you’ll see them. I do. 1 see them . He thinks he’s found a brand-new L m•.
everywhere. (He sings.)
SO Snug dcd cOZy On ]Our ClDSet !OOr,
And then you open up your claset door,
JOSEPHINE: A busy day so far. Busiest on record, if your books

' You' whats that bunny in my closet for? are right. How’s the urinal holding out?
With a mallet and some clippm, BOBBY: A little spillage, nothing to be concerned about. The
You find out: no bunny slippers! people are happy, that’s the main thing.
Grasp the message, staff? (A palice whistle is heard in the distance.)
LITTLE BRCKf two-smoss: Police!
sec surr: Right behind you, boss!
ROBBY THE 8TOCxrisii: Run!
CLADPKELLANDSTAFP:
Don’t be the bunny. aoaax: Wait! Wait! Please, everyone, remain calm!
Don’t be the shoe. (The cors ‹atcr with CLADMLL, MCQUEEN, FJPP, PRNNY, and

You don’t get stepped on. rtoPs in too. They make their way to the gate.)
rocxsiocx: It’ll take a lot of explaining to keep us calm, Bobby
TO, the onc who $tepS iS you! Strong.
BOaav: We’ve taken control of this amenity, Officers. The people
You re stepping up here pee for free.
To where its sunny. CLADMLL: That’s my amenity, Officers. I want all of these peo-
Step on the poor! ple taken away.
Don’t b the (MTTLE SALLY makes her way through the rebel mob to appreach
bunny! Dan’t be lOCKSTOCKj

the bunny! LITTLE SALLY: Ofhcer Lockstock, what’s happening?

Wah, web, w h, +«h, L!
c»wrrr: All righr, everybody, get yourselves together! It’s time
we bagged ourselves a few rabbits! Let’s go!
(All wfi. '
The poorest, filthiest urinal fH inft'H. BOBBY, nuts }OSEPHINE’S help, M
H0If fH Ckal•f'e. 'ML-LV POOR mb eagerly towaH the Amenity’s entrance.
aoaav: One at a time! One at a time! Everyone will get a
turn!
SOUPY suz: Here’s some cash, Bobby. Just for you.
a oeer: Keep your cash, friend. And relieve yourself in happi-
ness.
rocxsrocx: Why, it’s the Act One finale, Little Sally. This is
where Cladwell arrives to snuff out the uprising. It’s a big
song-and-dance number involving the entire cast.
LITTLE SALLY: Snuff out the uprising? But what about Bobby’s
dreams?
rocrsiocx: Well now, Litde Sally, dreams only come true in
happy musicals—and a few Hollywood movies—and this cer-
tainly isn’t either one of those. No, dreams are meant to be
crushed. It’s nature’s way.
LITTLE sArrv: This may not be a happy musical, Officer Lock-
stock, but it’s still a musical. And when a little girl has been
given as many lines as I have, there’s still hope for dreams! (She
scrambles back to the mob.)
iior•s: Bobby!!
aoaav: Hope?!
Dent givc in tomorrow,
HOPE: What are you doing, Bobby?! I told you to follow your
wt give as today.!
heart, not seize an ameniiy!
TIJRPOOR:
moray: I did follow my heart, Hope. Thanks to you.
Free!
nsas: The amenity won’t take much more of rhis uprising,
Teople are free!
Caldwell. Bobby’s a sweet boy, but not sweet enough to
sweeten that spillage, not by a ]ong shor.
aoeav: The amenity will take as much as it has to, Ms. Penny-
wise. The days of deprivation are over for these people.
How we cay be
iris room: Hooray!
free from the chains
CmnwrrL: The days of deprivation have just begun if this mad-
He gave is!
ness continues a moment longer.
THE POOR: Ooooo!
Were suffering now
BOBBY: Sure, Mister Cladwell, that’s what you’ve been saying for
fiitCfi liyes OpsOrYOtu!
twenty years. And for rwenty years we’ve waited for the long-term Don’t gic'e us tomorrow,
solutions that met came. Well, we’re done waiting, you see, for a
just give us taday!
new day has dawned today. A day of hope and happiness (Mmi-
B OB BY:
rH camp b m.) when the idea of human dignity is more than
from ru’ry Hi//›
just a forgotten notion, but a living, breathing reality. A day—this
Ev fu:ccple,
day—when the people pee for kee, because the people are free!
Rjng out the
ziiE POOR: Hooray!
anthem Of the
BOBBy: Min
people, Maétng a
Pree!
mw may.
Peaple are free!
Breaking the cloud •f g• y
How can a fee
I’o sing o today!
Enslave us?
BoBBYaNDTHRPOOR:
See
bfHg Of today!
Horn we -an be
P'ree from the chains
Sing ft &y
Sing today,
He gave m.!
Sing today

Were m]fering now

PENNY: Uh, perhaps best to stay back here with your father,
Such lives ofsorrow.!
Hope dear. the police will want to charge soon.
macs: Your father?
 n one: Charger! Daddy, these people need understanding, not I today therek Spillage, ten us haw
brutality. T marrow will not stink!
CLADW£££: On the contrary, Hope dear, a little brutality is ex- CLADWKRLl:
actly what thesc people need. Officer Lockstock! Ifiti you and me, now, Mister Strong,
HOPE: Daddy, wait. He only wants the people to be happy, isn’t Which ane ofw will blink?
that worth something?
crxDWElL: Happyi you say!! Happy?! (He sings.) I say its you, Mister Strong,
So you want happy Meter Stronff. Far on the subject oftomorrow—
Did you say happy, Mister Strong?
CLADT/ELLAND CO.:
If they pr‹ taday Im sure they’ll be
You arc wrong!
As happy at a yep!
CMDWELL: Officer Lockstock! Prepare your ... man.
With no rules and no more fees to pay,
aoaav: Everybody into the amenity. We’ll be relatively safer in
Things would be looking up!
there.
But too bad the water that rue share
iiOPE: Oh, Bobby, why didn’t you tell me you were going to start
COttld fit imfde s cup!
a revolution?
What »ftomarrow, Mister Through
aozav: Maybe for the same reason you didn’t tell me you were a
aoeav: But what of today?!
Cladwell.
HOPR: I’m the same girl I was last night.
But what of tomorrow, Mister Strong?!
aoaav: The girl last night would have joined us by now,
Think of tamarrow, Mister Strang!
Hope.
Our resaurces are as fi-agile
more: I can’t fight against my father, Bobby.
As a newborn babys skull.!
aoaav: And I can’t not fight against him. So you can join us or
With your actions you would gut the child
you can stand aside.
And leave a lifeless hull!
HOPE: Stand aside?
Could it be you re so shortsighted,
uonev: You heard me.
So insensitive, so dull?
think oftomorrow, Mister Stmng!
Bobby, ttiu£!
THR POOR: But what of today*!
Yoube standing an the brink!
CLADVALLANDCO.:
You’ll be arrested sons,
You are wrong, Mister Strong,
Perhaps as soon as noon,
Yaw and your socialistfc thrang!
’ ”8 p80p pcc far frec, theyll plf$h And I cauld neuer bear
The system to the brink!
To see you taken u'here
The gaily peeers meet
The taint judgment seat!
You said
To follou'your heart.
Heres where my heart leads.
law I’ll do my part
Ta banish all needs.
Yaw made me ta see,
Fantastic’lly clear
When people pee free,
We’re nothing ta 'ar
We’ll find a u'ay Somehotu
Ta help the people pee
Without a hefty fee.
But if you mus persist
Being an anarchist,
My fathcr? men will ace
You be sent away com me.!
Yaw’II get Urinetown!
Bobby you’ll get
Urin tarn!
BOBBT:
YOur words were like Seeds,
At first they seemed
mild. They grew into
deeds.
This riots our child!
Sing af today not tamorrom!
End their lines ofsorrom!
Today!
Urinetown!
Today!
Urinetown!
cmnwBLr: You’ve picked a fight you can’t win, today, Mister
Strong! Your rabble is no match for my men.
JosznolNz: He’s right, Bobby. They’ve got ... one ... two ...
Two men, and we’re all so poor!
cmDWEkr: Now release the girl. It’s time you faced your
punish- ment like a man.
aoaav: Release?! No one’s holding—
(The kO$T 0 OSD MAN STRONG dcd TINY Tom appear in the dis-
tance.)
OLD MAN STRONG: Bobby! Bobby, reason with the woman! I’m a
little short this morning!
rirrr ron: No shorter than yesterday. Unless I’ve grown.
(They disappear)
LITzm sALLx: You can punish our bodies, Mister Cladwell, but
you can never punish our spirits!
sourv see: Punish our bodies?!
rrrrm azcxv two-siiozs: I never agreed to any punishment of
my body!
CLADW Lk: Oh, punishment is all you’ll ever know ... once you
release the girl!!
THE POOR: CLADWELL AND UGC SAPF:
Bobby, help! Yaw
He’ll turn our brains to help! are orang, Mister Strong!
No matter what we do, You
Were in a real bad stew! are wrong, Mister
Strong! Those cops land awful mean, Very
The flusieal se
Life nane we’ue euer seen! iurang, Mister Strong! pyre unbnoiun place
When Cladwell gives the cue, You till that Mt All You are ffo,
Our resolution? through! are wrang, Meter Strong! freedom is dread to face! wrong, Meter B b-
fJ Strang! by!
BOBBY: THE POOR: CLnDW£LL ROBE: won!
AND UGC STAFF:

Alt. Btu ROBBy: BOBBY:

Last Bobby plan!
tiight Daur Theres no way You are Urinetown! Sing oftaday,
work were to appease wrong, Mister
lihe StrOng!
Bobby, you’ll lwe’lI get
At Urineramn' End i6rfr lines
A real in- You are
first, they o sorrow!
saniac.! wrong, Mister
seemed Hc’s like a Strong! Ojf you’ll lw‹’ll g» to
mild. p eding train Urin town!
The:y caught in a Very Today!
in- hurricane, wrong, Mister Urinetown!
but he is Today!
in I nv I
You are King a}’today!
iurong, Mister
Strong! $HOPE and BOaBv embrace.)
Cladwell’s not! HOPE: SO that’ll it be, Bobby?
The With no ifs, You are OF aonav: Looks like we’re in a real tight spot, doesn’t it*
hildk arids, or but’s! wrong, Mister Bob- HOPE: Your fellow revolutionaries seem to think so.
on Yes, her a Strong! by! aoazv: I suppose we should leave.
are. reaMiye loon!
HOPE: Oh, Bobby, they’ll never let you leave now.
Hes A freaking You are la, (The ghast forD mN STRONG Appears in the distance.)
hot ‹n looney tune! wrang, Mister Bob-
own xiAN STRONG: Remember me, boys! Oh God, what have I
And wb u h i Ser ng! by!
done?! Remember me!!!
done with w,
we’ll find were (He disappears.)
^W
n a be wrong, Mister Bob- BOBBY: Not without you, they won’t. Which is why you’re com-
bound for that Strong! by! ing with us.

sz
irons: Coming with you? I told you, Bobby, I won’t fighr against " Yourc wrong!
my father. Mister Strong!
aoaBx clutches nors tighter.) King today! You’re wrong!
aoaav: And I told you I won’t not fight against him.
nors: But how can 1 come with you and still not fight against aoaav: Keep your men back, Cladwell! We’vc got your daughter
my father unless ... unless ... oh dear God, Bobby, no!!! and we’re not letting her go!
HOPS: Bobby, what are you—
BOBBYANDPOOR: CLADWKELLANDCO.: JOSEriHNE: (Pulling her away.) In the name of the sky, you’re
Fram eu’ry coming with us!
Hill, Wrang, Meter Strong! aoaav: We’re walking out of here, Mister Cladwell, and
Throb of I m rr in, you’re going to let us! That is, if you care about your
Mister Strong! daughter.
Ring out the anthem Our resources are as CWDMLr: You're makin g a terrible mistake, Mister Strong.
Fragile nsas: Let the girl go, Bobby, she’s done nothing wrong!
Ofth people As u n wb m bubyi i£ull! aoaav: Don’t let go of the girl. And follow me!
Making a With your cocxsiocz: Boss, what do we do?!
New way, Actions you would gut the cLADweLr: Seize them!
Breaking the /7f d Pr•NNv: No!
<!• •fu•y Leaye a lifeless hull! CLADMLr: Don’t let them get away!
A lifeless hull tors: Help me!
To sing of today! Mister Strang! PENrrr: Help her!
You re very duly BOBBY: Now run, everybody! Run for your lives! RUN!!
Mister Strong! (General mayhem, first in real time, then in slDtH tttOtiOH. BOBBY,
Sing of taday! Disperse your throng, JOSEPHINE, dnd the rest of THE POOR e!S€*fp0 Uttk HOPE m a
Mixta Strong! hostage. Everyone sings O LOCxSTocK explains.)
Disperse your throng,
And end your song, woven: rOcxsxocx:
Sing ft day! And end your song, Urinetomn! Well, that’s ii for Act One.
Mister Among! Urinetown! As you can see, the rebel
You’re wrong, Urinetown! poor are making their get-
Mister Strong.! Urinetown! away with Hope as a hos-
You re wrong, Urinetown! tage. The rest of us have
Mister Strong! Urinetown! been thrown into confu-

os the 8usictl
What is Urinetown
$CLADWELL, MCQUEEN , del ri r r enter)
{/rinetawns the etid!
cmnwcrr: I want them found, damn it! I want my daughter re-
Swift and brutril punishment—
leased and I want Bobby Strong pu nished!
No need now to pretend!
HOT BLADES MARAV: xocxsrocx: We’re working rotind the clock, sir. But as the sign
The tr‹ipdoor s spruiig and rir, you're hyng, says, it is a secret hideous, so—
cmnwcur: Enough of your excuses, Lockstock! You’ve got
And when they cut you dowry,
They’ll box you up and ship you out weapons! Use them!
LOCRSTOC a: But, sir—
And call it Urinetown.'
QLL:
ccsomxx: (Sing .)
ThWf’ll bOX yott Hp Dnd Chip y0tl Out Whyt is Urinetown?
And cull it Urinetown.' Urinrtomn s a tool,
An instrument of pawer
Tawn!
To enforce iny iron rule!
Town!
So send your troapi to all the
Tawn!
Tawn! stoop And let them understand,
If Hope ii nai returned,
Dance? It( Urinetown for all the land!
N»! AL L:

Never do they dance! If Hope is not returned,

ftp Urinetown for all the ldnd!
Those peupl down in Urinetouin, they neurr get the chan‹’e!
Duriciitg, forget it! Land!
Neuer nada, rioye! Land!
Unless its at the bottom ofu rope.'
HOT B LAD ES HARRx: So do n’t your Popes up. And I say if
get
they're not back soon, we give it to her [ike her father was
Danced
gonna give it to us.
Danced
Li Do they thinb I’ll dance?
rocxsiocx: People hear lots of rhings about Urinetown, of
Those people u› jth my ‹;[inuyhter nidnt to
course, and that’s just the way we like it. Yoi example , a little
Mahe me change my starice!
boy once asked me, “ Is Urinetown actually a nice place to live?
Stance-danre, orget it!
Gi ngcrbread houses along golden, frothy canals? Like Venice,
Neuer, nada, neon!
but different?” I didn't say yes. I didn't say no either.
I’ll teach them nat to tame from m whats mine!

the N us ie a I
 mcquees: We should hurry, sir. The Emergency Plann ing Quo- My heart is like a stallion racing through a great expand !
rum is waiting.
Canyons of freedom, thats where it will u'altz,
cmDwerr: Yes, of course. The Quorum.
Performing coranary somersaults!
(Thef exit. Lights cross t0 BO8BY en JOSEPHINE, note ehewhere in
JOSErriiNz: Your heart is like a stallio n*
the city. )
(A police whistle is heard in the distance. )
JOSEPHINE: That was a close one, Bobby. I thought Barrel saw us
aoaav: l’ll explain along the way, Ma. C’mon, let’s go.
there. for sure.
(They 6Xf/. Lights cross to rocxsrocx, what just r bb d LITTLE
aoaav: We'll have to keep on our roes, Ma. At least until we’ve SALLY.
disrribured the rest of these memos ro the other assisrant cus-
xOCxsTOCx: Where are they hiding, Little Sally?! Tell me and I’ll
todians around the city.
see things go easy on you.
JO SEPHINE: Do you thin k rhey’ll join us?
ilTTcz sxHx: Easy on me?! You mean like sending me to the
aoaav: Hard to say. They’re scared like we used to be scared, but
nice part of Urinetown*!
if it’s true what they say about everyo ne having a heart, they’l]
cocxszocx: Thai can be arranged.
have tO ROI fi us. (He sin gs. )
rJTTLx snxix: Save it for one of your other stoolies, Of-
What is Urinetou'n?
ficer Lockstock. My heart's with the rebellion. And besides,
Urinetown s a /fP,
the way I see it, I’m already in Urinetown. We all are. Even
A meant to keep the poor iii chech
you.
tintii the my hey dix!
(Doc xsiocx loosens hi’i grip. )
i did not third ti!eir dirt more,
rocxsrocx: Me? In Urinetown*
But things are different nom.
rrrrrx szLrx: Sure. The way I see it, Urinetown isn’t so much a
We’ll fight for right with all asr might
place as it is a metaphysical place. (She sings. )
Until we min somehow!
What is Urinetawn?
BOBB Y AI I D d OS€PH I N E:
Urinetown is here!
We’ll fight for right with all our might
Its the town wherever-
Until we min somehow!
People learn ta line in fear.
How!
So look around, you’re fin’lly found
How!
The place you asked about,
Haw!
For Urinrto on is yaur t0on
Haw!
If yau re hopeless, down-and-out.!
BO BBY:
ALL:
Dance.’
Far Urinetaon is your tawn
Dana .'
If you’re hopeless, down-and-ant!
Listen to it dance!
iocxsiocs:
iarrce azcxv rwo-siions: String her up!
crrrse sni.rv: Wait a minute! You can't just give her the rope!

Because lfillin’ het would makr us no bttter iiian them.

rn nzcmv two-siiOEs: Haven't you heard, Little Sally? We
are no berter than them. In fact, we’re worse.

(rocxsiocK tools around and sees that Lrrnz soix has escapcd )
I-DC R8TOCR: Where’d she go?! Damn it. ffr Why to to. éot Re-
f r be leaves—) Welcome back, everybody. And enjoy—
whats lek of che show! Little Sally . .. Littjq Sally . .. whar did
you mean by “metaphysical"?
ttm âci or
nor usEs sunny: Whaddaya think they talk about in those
quorums they got up there-how good we are?! So listen up
now! Any second those cops are gonna bust in here and bust
us up like a bunch of overripe cantaloupes! 8o I say as longg as
our juice has gocta spill—all over chls Roor, ftere—her joice
has gotta spill, too! Cladwell juice! Then we’ll see who's better
than who. (be sings. )
L d at her hete,

With her heed full afhair

dh flill pn
Thy secret hi‹f out. THE POOR Matte just about lost it.

HOT BLAORS Hnnrrf: 1 say five more seconds and then we let her
Brig! Bang! Boom! Lcts get tough,
have the rope. Five ... Four ... Three, rwo, one!

cirrLz surer: Geez, that was a close one. Cops crawlin' all over
the place. rite sWLY: “Snuff that girl"? But killing ople is wrong!

USE BECxv xwo-siioss: Little Sally! Where the hell have you rirrtc azcxv mo-siioss: Then why does it feel so right? (She
been'!
we sni x: Spyin' near the tower, is all. Cladwell and Fipp and
fvls. Pennywise, they was all meetin' up there. Some kind of—I
don’t know what you want to call it—a quorum of some kind. With our hearts f E of fear.
not a ES runny: That’s it, she gets the rope., Wh ip! Wh, mm
UtTTE 6nLtx: The rope?
 Snuff the girl!

»f Ottt’Se, th re the s go ff’ze.1.

is iuhat w u df
 And Hi g i thM party jyinpiy’, aoazv: Maybe I am.
Really get it pumpin’.
Lets get the pay jumpin’. money: And maybe I made a promise up there. A promise
Yeah, L'ts snuff th,tt— that from this day forward, no man would be denied his es-
Snuffih«t girl! sential humanity due to the condition of his pocketbook
zuw ion: Lais bring our message of hate to the entire world! That no man in need would be ignored by another with
FOR BEES BY: Easy, friend, a message like ours works best the means to help him. Here and now, ftom this day forward,
under extremely unbalanced circumstances. because of you, and you, and you, we will look into the faces
MW£B BACEY TO-SHOWS: Such as we have right here7 of our fellow men and see not only a brother, bur a sister as
HOT BEEN HnRnv: Exactly. Now gec the rope. well.
him ion: That's right, the rope. uoz aunozs uazutv: fat is chat supposed to mean?
§Bosav and JoszrHlNs cnn•r the secrct hideaut unseen.) sourv see: When did he say that?
LIMLp Bzcxv two-snows: String her up. That's che answer. virrr row: I don’t remember him saying that.
String up the strumpet daughter of the criminal urinal chain rirrm azcax mo-s+ions: All I remember him saying was
owner Cladwell! “Run! Run for your lives! Run!”
sourx sur: Kill her! aoaav: Well, that was in the heat of battle. And in the heac—the
noazv ins sTOcKfrsri: Hang her! actual hotness of battle—the cry of freedom sounds some-
kdYfLB BE4SKV TO-SHOEs: Kill her! thing like (He sings. )
aoaav: Enough! Rev. fr«d»m, run!
reedam, run away!
rirrLz ski.rv: Bobby Strong. My fried, y0u hatW IO run,
BOBBv: No one’s going to be killing anyone around here.
HOW BUYftRS HARnY: Why note freedom, run away!
}OSBPHiNs: Because she’s our security blanket, that’s why!
sowrv sts: But we’re so afraid, Bobby. Killing her might make
us feel powerful for a moment.
y"BOBBY: Friends, I know you’re afraid. But this has got to be
about more than just revenge and the vicarious shrill of string-
ing up someone who can’t defend herself. 'reedom, run away!
LImLR SECL TO-8HOEg: But why? We want to hang her as re- tiny ion: I’m frightened!
venge for her father’s crimes. money: As well you should be. Freedom is scary, ir’s a blast of
LII flux: 1 think he’s just in love with her, that's what I cool wind that burns your face to wake you up.
think

*° vs*nozoun
money: Yes. (He sings. )
Theres a trickle af.
 BOBBY:
Run, freedom, run!
Freedom, run anay!
My friends, you
Haye to run,
Run-a, run-a, my.
Freedom, run gway,!

THE pOOm
Run, Hallelu!
BOBBY: (THE POOR tantrum ba‹bup marsh un&r th
rn sni.rr: What do we do now*
THE POOR: JOSEPHINE: The police will be on the lookout for us, that’s for
Areedbm,xn/
BOBBy:
Will whine s meday. SOUPY SUr.: But how?!
TH E POO R:

Some sweet day! ing.)

® ®® * **HE DOOR: aoaax: With blood! Guts! Brains, if we have to! It may take
And so will alm certainly n make it
Run, run-a, run-a, run, through the revolution alive! Maybe all of us! But fight on we
H l'f - ft , If M -df , fyf y
will, for all the decades necessary, to claim freedom for the
Hallelujah!
people of this land!!

it 1 8 mfHd i' your hair,

I've got a real plan.
You’ll run to freedom glary.
money: Ms. Pennywise? How did you find us?
Pz : I had a feeling you'd be here. No one knows the sewer
system like you do, Bobby. HOPS: Hello, Bobby.
aoaav: Or you. aoaav: Hello, Hope.
rcnrrv: Cladwell would like to talk to you, Bobby. more: So this is the bright new day you were telling me about.
money: What about! money: I don’t blame you for being angry with me, Hope. But
rzxnv: He wants to discuss the situation with you man-to-man. your father gnve us no choice.
He says he now understands how unhappy the people of this HOPE: They may not have taught me much at the Most Expen-
community have become and he wants to work out a solution sive University in the World, but they taught me this much:
with you. Peacefully. kidnapping people is wrong.
rim ion: Now there’s a shortcut. money: Really* They taught you that there?
sourv sue: That’ll save us on the decades of struggle! (Pawc.)
JOSEPHINr: But can we trust himi HOPE: 1 thought we had something special together, Bobby.
nem+v: Mister Cladwell doesn’t want a fight, Mrs. Strong. He aoaav: We do have something special rogether, Hope. But until
just wants his amenities up and running, smooth and natural. freedom rules the people of this land instead of fear, love has
That's all he's ever wanted. about as much chance as a baby bunny drowning in a vat of !
aoaav: What do you think, Little Sally? boiling water.
zirres sni.ix: 1 think it might be difficult for your love to grow HOPR: Maybe less.
with Hope tied to that chair for the rest of her life. (Pour.d
(aoaav thinks a moment. ) aoaav: I didn’t mean to drag you into all this, Hope.
noaav: All right, I’ll go. more: And I didn’t mean to ... Oh, 1 guess I don't know what I
( General commotion. ) meant to do.
}OSRPHINz: Bobby, no! What if it’s a trick›! aoaax: Look to your heart, Hope. I think the answer to what
money: That’s just a chance I’ll have to take. you want is waiting for you there, deep down, somewhere
among the tissues. (He exits.)
i•ermv: What about the girl? HOPE: Wait a minute. when will I see you again? (She sings).
JO8r•riiInz: She stays here. Any funny business and she gets it. thru harness sorrowed for.
You tell that to Cladwell. And yau’ue last your way,
ezmrr: Sure, I’ll tell him. Likewise with the girl. Give it to her Yoti have your own compass
and we give it to him. Get me? That mms night ta day
money: We’ll be careful. And its even with you
rzrmv: Now stay calm, Hope darling. We'll have you out of this B•f•r• •• Open.
in no time. Be still, hear ii beating,

Oh, Bobby.
see rerrire PENNY and aOBBY.
C w'riz.: You’ve caused a lot of excitement over the past few
days, Mister Strong. Gotten a lot of people riled up.
moeev: This is just the beginning, Mister Cladwell. The people
have only just begun to fight.
cowvrr: Keeping my daughter confined against her will—is
that how the people fight?
BOBBx: They fight by any means necessary.
ins. niiLLflNNIUM: The streets are still ours, Mister Strong. Your
people are just holed up in some underground sewer.
aoaav: They’h be up.
$LOCKSTOCK nd axsREL rfh in, truncheons in hand. )
mCRSTOCE: Sorry to interrupt, Mister Cladwell. There’s a dis-
turbance over ar Public Amenity Number Thirty-rwo, Num-
ber Fifteen as well. Word’s begun to spread.
anener: People have gathered at all the rest. They’re waiting to
see what young Bobby will do.
LOCRSzoclt: Afrer he meets with you, of course.
C wB£L: Of course. (He considers aOaBY.Q Mister McQueen!
L>cqu88^ places a Iuitc4se onC nf›weLs s desk. ) Do you re-
member the Stink Years, Mister Strong? The first years when
the water table started to drop and then just kept on drop-
ping? No one thought they had much time then, and many of
us did .. . questionable things, much like the things that are
happening right now. There was the looting, of course, and
the hoarding. Riots broke out like there was no tomorrow, for
there was no tomorrow, btit there is always a tomorrow if
you’re tough enough to cling to it. Which is why I’ve asked
you here tonight.
$MCQUE •n open$ the suitcase, revealing pits and piles ofcash.)
nr: Ooooooooo.
c wsLz: Some people see me as an ... evil man.
zxr: Noo! / How awful! / Oh, Mister Cladwell! / Etc.
can: But the truth is, I’m no more evil than you or
Ms. Pennywise or any of those poor people you insist on try-
ing to lead. I'm only a simple man trying to cling to tomor-
row. Every day. By any means necessary.
(e oe en fingers the cRsh.)
eonev: And what happens when the drought is over*
crnowzrr: Over! (All except aoaax chuckle. ) Well, we can always
hope, I suppose. But until then our regimen of controlling
consumption through the regulating mechanism of cash must
continue.
money: Ah yes, the regulating mechanism of cash.
(c w'xrL puts his arm araund zoezv.)
cawes: Bobby, 1 want you to have this cash. And I want you
to tell the people that the powers that be grant full amnesty to
those involved in this week’s criminal activities as long as
they're willing to return to the improved fee schedule as au-
thorized by the Legislamre. Don’t let it happen again, and
have a good time in Rio.
money: 5o many tomorrows.
c wzrr: Yes.
aoaav: But I’m afraid my conscience will cost 7ou more than a
pile of cash, Mister Cladwell.
ezmrx: Bobby, it really is an awful lot of cash.
aoaav: Free access is the only “cash” I'm interested in.
cnnowen: 1 thought we had an understanding, Bobby.
aoazx: Then understand this: If there truly is a way to that
Why did I listen to that man?
bright new day, we’ll find it together. All of us, not just the
Why did I lia:en to the nature of his plan?
wealthy few. And that means free access.
cnnnMLL: Free access is impossible.
And when h mind,
I should have balked,
money: Then that’s what I’ll tell the people. (He turns to go.)
I should have walked,
cowers: Stop! (rocxsTOCK dnd arr bl» li hM sit.) Wc’h
I should haue run*
not return to the Stink Years, Mister Strong. l’li not allow it.
Why did I listen la that -n?
ezirv: Caldwell, what are you doing?!
(She M dragged off. Outside the UGC headgear building: c -
Cowztz: I’ve spent a lifetime building this company, paying
off the police, bribing the political elite, and snuffing out pop-
UNWELL: JD ucQUEENj You, get word tO Alice headquarters;
ular resistance as if it were a naughty baby bunny in the palm
we'fi need all hands on deck tonight (McQUEEN mrs. T» on.-
of my hand. My right hand. I’ve centralized all power to a
aux, inner, thm again ta amuexuxj You, you, and you,
pinpoint spot—right here! Between these two ears! And I’m
stay with me! We’ll see about these little "dismrbancm.” And Fipp!
not going to allow some dreamy-eyed boy who can’t remem-
rirr: Yes, Cladwell?
ber the Stink Years to tuin ali that! Seize him!
covers: Assemble the Legislature. I want full authority for
jLOCKSTOCK# BAARRL fsFBOBBY
the coming crackdown.
rsnnv: Don't do it, Caldwell! There’s no telling what they'll do
rini•: And dirty my hands with this bad business? Not on your
to the girl!
ci noMLL: That’s just a chance I’fi have to take.
c wzrc: Don't kid yourself, Fipp. Your hands are as filthy as a
: [Gasp!]
child’s aker sandbox time. But don’r worry, you can wash
errs. uiLzB : He really is as evil as they say
them soon enough! Wash them by che banks of the Rio del
c weal.: You think just because I love my daughter I’ll stop
Rio. Now go! (To BILLRAUx, MILLENNIUM, then again to es-
clinging to tomorrow?!
aux) You, you, and you! Come with me!
rsnsv: Caldwell, what are you saying!!
(be rushes o@with etV Lan x and i use i lls in taw. rinr siyg .)
(Two ucc exzciJirvzs step forward to rcstrain rearrr.)
c WILL: I closed my heart to love once, I can do it again! why did I li t‹• t• ih•i cr••t:i
(Vam‘p for Did 1 Li teii to That Man?” begins.) To Urine- A little bribe in cash is all it really tech.
town with him, then! With all haste, Officer Lockstock! Wicli Thats how that craven
all haste! TuiL't mans
money: You lied to us, Cladwell! CLADWELL! Madc m cuv in.
(The cows drug aozav o c w'rn Air with his entourage. Be-
gin moaregc. very, sill rcsi:rained by the uec excctrrives, sings.) Why did I listm t« that cro«b?
(He rwhes o]f. Somewhere on the may to the UTC headquarters rE>rrf: Let go of me! 1 have ro save Hope!
l›uriding rooftop.' rocxsi'OCx and BARnrr enter with BOBBY, riaw UGC EXecurivs #1: There's no saving Hr›pe now, Ms. Pen ny-
blindfolded and bound at the u rists. ) wise.
aoBav: You lied to us, Cladwell! You rold his one thing, rhen you UGC EXsccrivx #z: There may bc no saving you.
did another! That’s what you did, Cladwell! Thai’s what you did! neurrr: Oh no*! Then take that! And char! And this! And a flew of
LOCKSTOCx: Come on then, young Bobby. You can’r keep these!
scream ing all rhc way down ro Urinetown. (Shr fighi uudibly with I r lays rs. more sings. )
BOBBY: But Hope, she’s srilI wit[t rhe others. What happens ro
me happens to her. Why did 1 listen to that boy?
rocxSiOCK: What happens to you happens to all of us sooner or Its pair oJ’hopes and drew ms.
later.
It filled me with such joy.
BARREL: Rather later than sooner, I’d say. Noin can I heroin
BOBBY: But not to Hope! Oh, please, not to Hope! He loued me so?
(LO C KSTOCK 4 td BARREL :u Hig . )
Wus it or siloin?
Docusxocu xuo omens f\ Wus I his toy?
low we’ur finally got you. Now Why did I listen to thus hay?
you rr in our cluws, Captured pL xrrY esc‹ipe , the Ucc exk‹:ini VES 0ittsr 0 her her. The COC
iii our city heudquurteri building rooftop. i.ocxsiocx und nARnL enter with
BO R BY.

aoaav: So what’s ir Iike, this Urinetown that I’ve heard so much

Tlleres no trial or jury, abour›
Nothing to diicws. annum: Perhaps Hette i toi us to “show” you.
Now thr luw ii speaking (BOBH¥ bemps inta ltte rooftap edging. he feek around. )
Through u . ace cv: What's this? Where arc we*
wrench: You, my boy, stand on rhe very threshold of a new
You’ll get Urinetown.' world.
Off with you to Urinetown! LOcxszocx: The door is in Iron r of you. Step through and
Amay with yen to Urinetown! Urinetown awaits.
No in, no more fuss.
aoaav: Door? More I ike ... a rail ing. And pigeons. A rooftop*
(They drag BOBBY Off. A street cornrr: nE N is dragged on by two axnum: And a drop.
UGC EXECUTIVES. ]'ights aha u9 on no re, still in the secret hideout, cocxsrocx: A decisive drop.
haund to i chair. ) aoaaY: 1 guess I still don’t understand.
axnecr: Never fear, the time of understanding is at hand!
so v i blind%ld.)
LOCKSTOCK: Welcome, then! To the very gates of Urinetown itself!
(BOBBY stares u mestruck at the

(All repeat remain uin under following dialogue

aoaav: Look, there’s Public Amenity Number Forty-seven! And
the Legislature! And . .. and my boyhood home! Why, we’re
just standing on top of the UGC headquarters building. And

rocxSTOCx: Yes. Yes, it is.

aoaav: How could it be that we’re in our town and in Urine-
town at the same time .. . uoles« ... unless . . . dear God, no!
iildn’

BOB BY:
to let the thrang take up my
S c ene 4
song. Mair Cladwell see that he is wrang! Now the law is
Why did I listen to my heart? speaking through us! The secret hideout. THE POOR Hard HOPE, Still bouHd to Ohr chair
and gagged. All wait anxiously or BOBBv to return.
(BOa Bv noin sings solo as LOC KSTOC K dH BARRf L jerk PI OPE, FI PP,
and rzxuv singing “Ah.”) LITTL • BECKS TwO-snows: What’s taking them so long*
gogav: sounv si;x: They should have reached an agreement by now.
Why dcd I listen to my heart? Cladwell’s not one to dillydally.
I heard its call and made this revolution start. Tlrrv row: All night the sirens and the screams. Maybe they’re
No let the thrang celebrating?
Take up my song. JOSRPHINe: Bobby won’t let us down. He’s a good boy, my
Mttbe Cladwel set' t flit hR. iS l€rong! Bobby Strong. If anyone can find the way to freedom, he can.
BoDBv, Ploes, PENNv, GInP, cocxsTocx, BARnzL: HOW BIDES HARRY: Otherwise we kill the girl. Righ r? That is
Why did I ltte listen ta that— the plan, isn’t it?
Why did I lhe listen to thut— JosnrHINE: Ler's not get ahead of ourselves now, shall we*
rENrrr: (LITrLe sure enters. )
JOSEPH I NE: Little Sally? that's going on up there*
iaiTLs ssrLv: Ir's ... it’s ...
Dad? } OSEPH I N : YeSI
BOBBY, HOPE, PENNY, F*PP, LOCFSTOCK, BARREL:
crrrre sxcLY: I saw Bobby.
Bhd! joszr HINT: Yes?
Why did I /Iie listen to my lhii— LiTTLE SwrLv: I ... I don’r think the meeting went very well.
(LOCKSTOCK and BARREL i/brow aOB BY ojf the edge.)
josxnoius: Why do you say that?
aoear: Hearrrrrrrrrrrrrttrtrt!!!!!!! rrrrrz saw: \fell, they threw him off a building.
BLOCKSTOCK d7f BARREL u Htth him fall. A fler a mosent ... )
(Pause. )
Locxsiocx: A shovel and a mop, Mister Barrel. You know the JOSEPHINE: What are you saying, Little Sally? Who th rew who
drill. off a building?
LITzic saw: Bobby. The policemen. They threw him off a
building.
josxr•iiIus: The police threw Bobby off a building?
sourv see: They couldn’t have done such a thing; we have Clad-
well’s daughter.
rlTirz snrrY: Well, they did.

ae ua io n v o m n
Tirrv ron: Is ... is he all right?
s»Lrv: Um

L,iTTLE SnLtx: Oh, Bobby. The policemen came soon enough,

but nor before I heard his last words.
CKFI
rrrrxs saLLv: That’s right. (She points to more.j It was about her.
(Vamp for “Tell Hi I Lone Her” begins.
so rev see: What were they?
sHLv: They were .

i e «r‹: 6reg Kotis (tag) an'I Ayun Halliday. Paris,! ^^^ '""”"°’

LITTLE SsLrv: No one.

(The ghost of BOB By disappears. )
”’: ”' ’"" of t’° ’^^^ ^^ r°r* I t°r ati°"ai eri r° 8°st‹vai rrox•cti•n of cr/»er». enea-
mise fr0m figper left: #risten Ànge ¡t# gg|g i4r rer - From the Fringe t0 the Great White Way: Spencer !ayden as titt|a Sally with Jay Rhoderic#
as Oflicer Lo¢Xstock in the 1999 Hew York International Fringe Festival production

left to right: Stay Walbye, Spencer Hayden, Raa#el Colofl, fancy Ogel, and Hunter Foster. Front row,
 sorry stJs: “No one is innocent"? What did he mean by that?
zrrrcz saix: I don’t know, he started fading in and out after a
while. It was a miracle he was alive at all, the fall was so horrible.
iirrv row: Was he talking about me? How can he say I'm not in-
nocent* Not in nocent of what*
Mrrcz ozczv no-snows: Not innocent?! Who the hell does he
think he is*!
Lirrcz s«iiv: Wait! Wait, Please. There’s more. He said ... (She

Tell all the people,

Tell them the time is always now.
Tell them to fight or what they know is right.
(The ghost ofBOaBv appears again.)

I’ve lost my sense ofsight,

And yrt I ser them.
I see them standing hand in hand.
B OBBY AND LITTLF SALcY:
Hope tells Cladwell thal she intends to send him to tlrinetown. From left to right: y¡gtqt \y Hanks I see them standing hand in found
Lawrence E Street. John ttiIIMm, Rachel Coloff, and lennlfer Laura Thompson le to„ ,o#p y#qcijsi And cheek to cheek and gland to glnnd.
There still is hope, I see it, in this
frad,

JOSEPHINE: LOS*
BOBBY nN D LITTLE SALTY:
Ifonly —
xLr: Yes?!!
crrzxz snLix: And then he expired.
(The ghost ofaOBBY disappears.)
arms ezcicr mo-sriocs: That bastard Cladwell lied to us.
JOSr•PHINE: He took my Joseph. Now he takes my Bobby.
rirrv ron: Who will lead us now?!
PEurrY enters, unseen.)
sourv ser: We’re lost! Lost, I tell you! The rebellion is over!

The N us ical
ROBBY THB STOLKrisii: Destroyed with a shove!
was somerhing of a strumpet in my day. (Sne removes more s
tiny ion: What do we do?!
gag.) But never in my wildest—
iiOT Bones anev: I’ll tell you what we do! We do to her what
HOrR: Enough!
they did to him!
srr: [Gasp?!]
sourx see. That’s right! Do to her what they did to him!
iiorE: My hean is telling me many things righ r now, as you can
rEr{m: Or you could take me instead.
all well imagine. But one thing it’s bellowing louder than any-
wr: Whaa—?! thing else is cfizt when there’s wrong in the world we must
LITTLE sxrrx: Ms. Pennywise!
righr it. (She flees herself from her chair) You did a wonderful
names ascrv to-soOES: Seize her!
thing by coming here, Ms. Pennywise. Mom. And if you can
(THE rOoR seize rzNNY.j
reform yourself, maybe we can reform a lot more than we
rent: Yes, do whatever you feel you need to, but please, spare
kn w. Ladies and gendemen of the rebellion, if you want to
the child.
do to me what they did to Bobby, I wouldn’t blame you.
HOT BLADES rinnnY: Old woman, you’ve been grasping and
LiTTLE »EC« mo-siioEs: Seize her!
con-
(All more toward HOPE.)
niving all your days. Why so giving now!
rpNrrr: Because ... Hope is my daughter. more: But if this righteous rebellion were to peter out in Bobby’s
xrr: [Gap?.'] absence, sending his memory ro oblivion, I work blame you.
r•zxm: And I am het moihei. All of you! Kill me and the rebcllion dies with me. Let me lead
you and the rebellion will triumph!
scc: fGASP?!]
T£m TOM: Lead us?!
PENS: YCS, Hope, it’s true. I am your mother, the onetime lover
ROBBy THE STOcxrisii: Shc’s mad!
of Caldwell B. Cladwell.
Tlxv TOP: Strumpet!
HOPE: Lead you to the very nerve center of my father’s empire.
rr,nrrv: I’ve got a key!
LITTM BESBY iWo-SHOES: flattern!
PENNY: Call me what you will, but it was during the Stink Years, HOeE: And the guards kGOw not 1o question me. But orice there,
you see. No onc chought rhey had much time then, so many we’ll quescion Daddy. Oh dear, yes, we’ll question him plenty!
yossriiius: Why should we trust you?
of us did ... questionable things. There was the looting, of
course, and the hoarding. But there were also the fond core: Because Bobby—your hero—loved me. And I loved him.
farewells and the late-night trysts. Life was an explosion filled joseriilNE: Hope, dear girl, on behalf of the pcop[e of the rebel-
lion, perhaps we, in time, might be able to love you, too.
with riots, cheap cabarets, dancing girls—
LITTLE sALix: And love?
(They embrace.)
rssr;v: Oh yes, and love. There was love like no tomorrow, for HOPS: It’s all that really matters, isn’t it? Love? Now let’s go do to
them what they wete ultimately going to do to us!
there was no tomorrow, but there is always a tomorrow
of some kind or another. After you were born, Caldwell xrr: Hooray!!
made me promise never to reveal my identity to you, for I (Segue i'nto ...)
 Scene 5 ear: And I love you. Very mid.

Manage. HOP£„ PENNY, dcd THE POOR have out to sets UGC r crsiocx: I $ee. (He exits.)
hasdqm rr re. tiTTLE SALLY $z?f . axnnrr: tell, that went pretty well.

lITTlC SALlF: jOsfiPrtlHE:

With a lest for Yaw sha fly the
Saning watcr Blimp of curl,
Man give Ought r
Up far dead!
HAFBLADpSMARRy:
Then m£ wfi the
Ridc gets jarry —
Hes not sorry, Naw you’re sorry
Not a shred! Yay’re up there.
HOPEAWD CO.:
Hes nat sorry . Nam you re sorry ...
Hes not sorry ... Non' yau’re carr-y -
Hes not sorry ... Now yard sorry ...
Hes not sorry . Non'yoyre sorry .
oHomed
(A street corner.’ rocxszocx and BAenrr enter.) just outsi‹f • the UGC headquarters building: Bryn enters,
BARRBr: An absolute maze, that’s what the $ewei system is.
iocxsxocz: I’m going back down to give it another look. You Legisla-
rirr: I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way to the
stay here to guard the streets.
$HOPE xxn co. creep into position unnoticed by the cows.9 Cladwell
MRS. MiLrsnrøuv: No olfense, Senator, but Mister
earner: I’ve been meaning to ask, Mister Lockstock. Do you crack-
didn’t want you flying the coop, what with the coming
ever ... have doubts about what we’ve been doing? Abour the down and all.
killings and ally on
r›rr: And what if I am flying the coop?! What if I’m actually
to
LOCKSTOCK: It may surprise you to learn thar sometimes I do, my way to the airport right now to catch the last flight out
but the healrh and security of this town are my primary con- Rio?! St WOuld you say to that. Hmmm!!
cerns. I love the people of this community Mister Barrel. Very errs. nrccseries: Can I come?
much. Cladwell‘s edicts may be their only chance. iiOPE AND cO. sing as thy p once on rirP altd Mns.
MILL£'''NNIUM›
(Pawe.)
 Those who made dough
From debasing

No ones sorry
No one? sorry,
Till they get to Urine
(LOCKSTOCK And the ghosts exit. The executrue offices o UGC.-
ceAoWerL and inCqVE zM en ter. rtOPE AND CO. are already waiting
there, hidden.)
cmnwzrr: Any word from Lockstock and Barrel, Mistet
sneak through the street pf zfi
"word UTC hpQ Ju0rters; McQueen?
”’ °^ac!dow",’ cocxsrocx ucqurzu : Not yet, sir. They’re still searching the sewer system.
cmowerr: Which is where they’ll be keeping Hope, I imagine. I
only pray thar when we meet in heaven she can find it in the
vastness of her heart to forgive me.
Once they liked to $HOPE reveals herself.)
We’re not sorry.*
! oot their rifl’es, core: Giving up on me so soon, Daddy?
Wire not sorry!
cancer expMcqtJpEx: Whaa—!!
ucqusrx : Ms. Cladwell, what an unexpected surprise.
Horn: Is there any other kind?
craowzrr: Hope darling, thank God you’re safe.
Bd- dap! Ba-dap I torn: I’m not safe yet, Daddy, but { will be. Soon all the people
of this land will be safe.
HOyRAlvpy ,; (year reueah herself.)
Party Most of us, anyway.

PsrtNv: It’s all over, Caldwell. We’ve come to rake you away.
(The rest of Trtx PoOg reveal themselue›.)
cmnwcn: Take me away* But ... to where?
SOWrv SUE: To the same place you sent young Bobby.
H OwRANDCO.: ROBBY THE STOCKFlsii: And Old So-and-So.
tiny ion: And all those who wouldn’t—or couldn't—meet your
criminal fee hikes.
 JO8HP l-tlNB : Seize his!

* MLL: Hope darling, what’S the meaning of this› Arcn’t ya roy*

HOP€j I’ve joined the revolution,
tlme you join€•d the ex-pat cOmDaddy Ad you? I believe it’s
munity—in Urin€•town!

* mLr: You’re making a terrible

need me more than/ u know mistake, Hope darling. You Om nat sa rry.
CLADIllANDPRNNF:
HOPE: The only thing
we need now is freedom , Daddy.
people. For the norm: Take him away.
LZTT\Q # Y' And love?
H O 88• Oh yes. And love.
C W DJQ LL: That’s what Iused to think, tOO, Hope. Before cmnwrri: I regret nothing! You hear me? Nothing!! Maybe I
t*f1 Years. But WOfldWi
de ecological devastation the was a bad father and a cruel and vicious man! But I kept the
' changing a man. You’re too yo hH a Way of pee off the street and the water in the ground! You hear me?! I
Hope dear, tt
jqg tp understand it now, kept the water in the ground!!!

love. but there really are chings im

Food, water, and shelter, for exam more portant than c wzrL i› thrown oaths r»f. mcQUEEW tried ko ark qttickly bttk
ple. is sropprd. sonar and clue rcturn.)
"°^ : And piles and piles of cash?
C xicqnsen : What now, Ms. Cladwell?
**: It wasn’t just C ash, M S. Pennywise. It was an awful
lot of cash. norm: Now is the beginning for all of us. Now is a new day
when each of us, regardless of race, creed, class, or criminal
history, can come together as one people and share the fruits
of our labor as one. Now is the dawning of a new age of com-
passion and the right to do whatever you like, whenever you
like, with whomever you like, in whatever location you like.
Ladies and gentlemen, today marks the final day of an age of
fear, an age that lasted far too long. Today marks the first day
of a new age! A new age
irrrv ron: Don’t say it!
norm: Of hope! (She
rings.)
I we n riuer flaming for frecdom.
iee < rim jwt in i'i .
I ire n rit'er flowing for freedom.
Birr o rirrr straight and truc.
Come to the river r justice.
Come to the ri ver rendezvous.
Come to the river flowing for justice.
All %r the people, me and you. Akl:
(All starry abaut, trani%rming the USA of today into the UGC $tep the miner, wade in
of tomorrow. orriCER LOCKSTOC K enters to address the audience ti 8
directly.)
LOCKSTOcx: tell, as you guessed, Hope took over her father’s wasn’t long before the water turned
: Of course, it
business, instituting a series of reforms that opened the public roc KSTOCx cruel as
bathrooms to all the people, to pee for free whenever they silty, brackish, and thCfl disappeared altogether.
his measures effectively regulated
liked, as much as they liked, for as long as they liked, with Caidw•ll B. Cladwell was›
the same fate as the
whomever they liked. The UGC was renamed the Bobby water consumption , the town
ignore the warning signs,
sparing
Strong Memorial Toilet Authority and was operated as a pub-
phantom Urinetown. Hope chose to It
people’s love for as long
however, preferring to buk in the
lic trust for the benefit of the public.
LITTLE SALTY: Officer Lockstock? Where’d you go?
Of musical i this!! The good guys
rocxsrocx: Just keepin8 my head down, Little Sally. Something
you should learn to do. -
everything starts falling apart*!
nally take over and then
Sally, thls 1Sn’t a happy musical.
LrrrLE sALLv: But aren’t you scared the tebels will see you? rO cxsroJK: Like I said, 'tt C
L LE S•r i x: But the rn so happy!
IT
LOCKSTOGK: Oh, I may be a cop, but I’m also the narrator. 8o no
US1C’S
one can touch me, not if they want the show to end. t ât IS.
c cx TOcx : Yes, Little Sally- • S

HOPE: So many people peeing at will. Thanks to the Rebellion S water,

I had a cool, tall glass of
the world is a much better place. joszrrtrnE: Sack a fever. If only
chance.
MCQuRcN : Actually, Ms. Cladwell, your father commissioned rryaybe I’d haVe a fighting
study of water consumption just before he— Mrs. g? The glass Cif water’s inside
norm: But don’t JO9 SSH,
none: My father was a tyrant. We need never fear him again. Stron
you; it always has been.
Justice is the only tyrant we need obey. JosspHmE: It has?
are?
HOPE: Of coutse, it hO. Don’t you know what you
LITTLRBECKYIO-SROES: josecrrii : A ‹iver? are.
N

Sisters and brothers, fight for the riyer. LITTLRBSCKYTV/O-SHOES:

HOnE: Babics, t« !
fathers and mochers—
jj ps: That’s right. We all
 FloWfng for jwtice, ITU reuiew.
(The hosts ofeoecu, e •, F•••, aitd CLADMLL enter.)

We see a rluer flowi'ng for fieedom.

W see a riuer just in view.
*8 !•* a riuet’ joining for5‹ t'&m .
You sce a riuer straight and true.
8!**** SALE: I don’t think too many people are going to come
see this musical, Officer Lockstock.
<<**°<K: Why do you say that, Little Sally? Don’t you think
people want to be told that their way of life is
unsustainable!
LITTLE SALLY* That—and the titles awful. Can’t
we do a happy
musical next time?
LOCKSTOCK: If there is a next time, I’m sure we can.
Well, that’s
Ottf story. Hope eventually joined her father in a
manner not
quite so gentle. Mister McQueen opened a bottling factory
just outside Bras 1 at whiCh did rather well until
the Amazon
dried up. Then he moved. As for the people of this town!
They did as best they could. But they were prepared for
the
orld they inherited, weaned as they were on the legend born
of their founding father’s scare tactics. For when the water
dried up, they recognized their town for thC first time
for what
it really was. What it Was always waiting to be.
The is Urinetown!
Alwa ffg been Urinetown!
I his place, its called Urinetown!
incxsrocx: Hail, Malthus!
ALL: Hail, Malthus!
LO CUSTOMS' Thank you. And good night.
In the moments before the Tony broadcast bcgan, a man strolled
onstage to read the bejeweled and/or black-tied nominees the
riot act. Winners would be allowed one minute from the mo-
ment their names were announced to say their piece. Should
they be fortunate cnough to be invited to do so, winners should
make their way quickly to the stage, not thank their babysitter,
and get off the stage before the “get off the stage” music started.
I heard rumors to this effect in the days leading up to the event
and had written a thank-you speech that morning just in case.
Read at a comfortable pace, it came in at fifty-eight seconds.
Given more time, I would have thanked all the people whose ef-
forts made Urinetown possible, including those listed below; to
see their names is to know how truly collaborative the making of
a musical must be:
Our genius-litre, incomparable, stupendous, origina] Broad-
way/Off-Broadway cast, including David Beach, Bill Buell,
Dwayne Clark, Jennifer Cody, Rachell Coloff, Rick Crom, John
Cullum, John Deyle, Hunter Fostcr, Victor W. Hawks, Erin
Hill, Ken Jennings, Spencer Kayden, Megan Lawrence, Stacie
Morgain Lewis, Daniel Marcus, Jcff McCarthy, Nancy Opel, Mi-
chele Ragusa, Peter Reardon, Don Richard, Lawrence E. Street,
Jennifer Laura Thompson, Kay Walbye, and Kirsten Wyatt, all
brought together by the casting directors Laura Stanczyk, Jay
Binder, and Cindi Rush.
Our steady and extraordinary Broadway/Off-Broadway musi-
cians, including Ed Goldschneider, Paul Garment, Ben Herring-
ton, Tim McLafferty, and Dick Sarpola, all brought together by
the muslc coordinator John Miller.

no cc n o mcc no in c szo s os
 Our suprerriely fabulous stage managers,
and Cry, including Julia P. Jones, Matthew theater managers, Our heroic, utterly unforgettable cast, crew, and creative team
Lacey, Joseph R. from the 1999 New York International Fringe Festival produc-
BoWt• ITlñn, Sally Campbell Morse, Robert tion, including Jay Rhoderick, Spencer Kayden, Wilson Hall,
BofSak, J. Anthony Magner, Kai Brothers, C. Strickstein, Marc
StiSan Bell, Tech Pro- Louise Rozett, Adam Grant, Carol Hickey, Victor Khodadad,
dDCtiOll SerViCes Inc., JOSeph Maher,
Paul and AndreW Dean, Rob Maitner, Terry Cosentino, Nick Balaban, Kristen Anderson,
Valarie LaMourt, ElspۥU Appleby, Shannon Koger,
Megan Bellavia Mauro, Zachary Lasher, Allison Schubert, Raquel
Rhoads, LuCas Stoffel, George Amores, Mary Mulligan, Todd Hecker, Joseph P. McDonnell, Wylie Goodman, Karen Flood,
McKim , William Register, Bobby Driggers, and Dean
Gardner. Michael Stuart, Peggotty Roecker, and Jane Charlotte Jones.
Ouf mag liifiCent alid rvtany -handed creative team, including The gratitude-inducing forces behind the New York Interna-
JOhn Rando, John Carrafa, Edward Strauss, Bruce Coughlin, tional Fringe Festival, including John Clancy and Elena K. Holy.
COtt PaSk, the late, great Jonathan Bixby, Gregory Gale, The prescient collection of actors and theater practitioners
Brian
MacDevitr, Jeff CurtiS, Lew Meade, Rick
Sordelet, Darlene Dan- who first perused the script, sang the songs, and read the lines, all
nenfelser, David Kennedy, Jeannine Sabo, MiChele Lynch, Orii in the name of improving the material, including Andy Cook,
Jacoby Carroll, Michele Wynne, Gretchen Steven Singer, Nannette Deasy, Debra Wassum, Eric Carrillo,
KfiCh, Yael Lubetzky,
alid Charles Vorce.
Jim Andralis, Raven Snook, Ian W. Hill, Adrienne Asterita,
Our visionary, pathfinding, fear-destroying producing team, Dann B. Black, Heidi God,t, Alana Israelson, Dan Perry, Marcus
including Michael David, Lauren Mitchell, Edward Strong, and
Woollen, David Auburn, Scott Hermes, Bob Fisher, Tommy
everyone at Dodger TheatriCals, Dodger Marketing, and the Moore, Stan Schwartz, Diana Slickman, Greg Allen, Robert
Dodger M anagement NfOti ; TheaterDreams, Inc.; and
Michael Stockfish, Bill and Rob Coelius, and Sean Bosker.
Rego, Matthew Rego, Hank
Unger, Clint Bond, Jr., Aaron Har- Pastor Brooke Swertfager and the congregation of Christ
nick, Jirrirriy Pellech i, Taylor McGowan, and everyone at Lutheran Church in Manhattan.
the
Araca Group. Co-workers past and present, including the good people of the
Our expert and profession al bOOStۥfS Of every stripe, including
Neo-Futurists, and the really very good people of the Cardiff
Adrian B ryan- Brown, Jirri Byk, Bill Craver, Ben Feldman, Mar- Giant Theater Company.
tine Sainvil, Mark Stevenson, and the fine people of And, ultimately, our own community of friends and family
Serino
Coyne. members who have made this life of writing plays possible, in-
88 8nowbound yet indomitable January 2000 staged reading cluding Paula Kotis, Sam Kotis, Juanita and Ray Hollmann, Jilly
crew, including Jamcs Barbour, Nancy Opel, Marcus Lovett, Perlberger, and, finally, Ayun Halliday, who made us keep going
SpCnCei Kayden, ]enn ifer Dura Thompson BFOOks Ashmanskas,
, even when we didni want co.
Dale Hensley, Nanci Gaye Bradshaw, Chf iStopher
Murney, Tom Thank you.
Gualtieri, Je ^S1 'ankel, Debra WisefTian, qu£•l Hecker,
Duane Martin Foster, Michael St. John, and Daniel
Marcus, all
brought together by the casting director
Cindi Rush.