Act I, Scene 1: Arrivals

(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: OFF – complete darkness.)

BACKGROUND SOUND: Car engine stops. Car door opens.

MOM (O.S., warm but firm): "Now, remember what we talked about, sweetie. This music club is a wonderful opportunity! Your father and I
met in a club just like this. It changed everything for us."
STUDENT THREE (O.S., muttering): "Yeah, but you guys actually liked music."
DAD (O.S.): "You might surprise yourself! Just give it a chance. Go on, don't be late."
BACKGROUND SOUND: Car door closes.
(SOUND: FOOTSTEPS walk onto the stage. We hear the subtle creak of a chair being
dragged, then the sound of someone settling into it and a slight scrape as it's pushed
in.)
BACKGROUND SOUND: Car quickly pulls up, engine idles. Car door opens.
PARENT (O.S., gruffly): "Extra lessons, huh? At this hour? What is it this time? Afrikaans?"
STUDENT ONE (O.S., feigning enthusiasm): "Uh, yeah! Afrikaans... no, wait, I mean Math!
Yeah, Math. Just a bit of extra help.
"
PARENT (O.S., skeptical): "Didn't you say it was Math yesterday?"
STUDENT ONE (O.S., quickly): "Uh, no, that was English. This is Math today. Definitely
Math! Bye!"
BACKGROUND SOUND: Car door closes.
(SOUND: FOOTSTEPS walk onto the stage. We hear a chair drag, a slight thud as
someone sits, and a scrape as the chair is pushed in.)
BACKGROUND SOUND: Car pulls up, gentle engine idle. Car door opens. Faint sound
of a perfectly played VIOLIN melody from offstage.
MOM (O.S., beaming): "Another triumph, my little maestro! Just another feather in your cap.
Remember, you've been playing since you were practically in diapers.
"
DAD (O.S., equally proud): "This 'extra credit' will be a breeze, a mere formality for
someone of your immense talent!"
STUDENT TWO (O.S., a bit bored): "Yeah, yeah, Dad. I know.
"BACKGROUND SOUND: Car door closes.
(SOUND: FOOTSTEPS walk onto the stage. We hear a chair drag, a slight thud as
someone sits, and a scrape as the chair is pushed in.)
BACKGROUND SOUND: TIRES SCREECHING to a halt aggressively. Car engine idles
loudly. Car door opens, then slams shut.
PARENT (O.S., shouting from offstage, through an open window): "You better enjoy
your punishment, you hear me?! Don't come home until you've 'improved your character'!"
BACKGROUND SOUND: Car speeds off with another SCREECH.
(STUDENT FOUR (O.S.) sighs audibly, then we hear a soft KICKING sound, as if at an
imaginary stone. FOOTSTEPS saunter onto the stage, deliberately slow. We hear a
chair being pulled, a slightly more forceful thud as they sit, and a final, defiant scrape
as the chair is pushed in.)
(SILENCE for a beat. Then, in the darkness, a low GRUMBLE from STUDENT FOUR.)
STUDENT FOUR: "This is such a waste of time.
'Character improvement.
' What a joke.
"
(SOUND of a sigh from STUDENT THREE.)
STUDENT ONE: "Seriously. I could be perfecting my crossfade right now. This is detention
by another name.
"
STUDENT TWO: (A soft, almost imperceptible hum of a complex melody, then a slightly
bored voice) "Extra credit. Apparently, my existing musical genius isn't quite 'rounded'
enough.
"
STUDENT THREE: (Quietly) "My parents said... it might be fun.
"
STUDENT FOUR: "Fun? With this lot? I'd rather scrub toilets.
"
STUDENT ONE: "Same.
"
(SOUND: A loud, almost cartoonish,
made with enthusiasm.)
"POP!" or "BOING!" sound, like a mouth noise
(LIGHTS snap ON, revealing a vibrant, colourful classroom. In the centre, standing
with an flamboyant, almost theatrical pose, is MR. EJ. He is dressed impeccably,
perhaps with glitter, bold colours, or distinctive eyewear. His energy is infectious.)
MR. EJ: "Right then, you magnificent collection of burgeoning aural architects! Welcome,
welcome, welcome to the grand symphony that is my humble music club! You may call me
Mr. EJ!"
(STUDENT FOUR grimaces, finding him weird. STUDENT THREE shrinks slightly in
their seat, observing him with wide, cautious eyes. STUDENT TWO sits up, postureperfect, looking poised. STUDENT ONE leans
back casually, a hand behind their head,
just chilling.)
MR. EJ: "Now, I don't care why you're here. Whether you were dragged by your parents,
forced by some draconian decree, or simply stumbled in hoping for free biscuits – what
matters is, you are here! And while you're here, you're going to open your ears, open your
minds, and most importantly, open your hearts to the wonders of music!"
(Mr. EJ gestures grandly, perhaps with a flourishing arm movement.)
MR. EJ: "But first, names! Just so I can attach these delightful faces to... well, names! You!"
(Points at STUDENT ONE)
STUDENT ONE: (Shrugs) "Uh, [Student One's Name].
"
MR. EJ: "Splendid! And you, my quiet little nightingale?" (Points at STUDENT THREE)
STUDENT THREE: (Barely audible) "[Student Three's Name].
"
MR. EJ: "Marvellous! And the one with the posture of a seasoned pro?" (Points at
STUDENT TWO)
STUDENT TWO: (Calmly) "[Student Two's Name].
"
MR. EJ: "Excellent! And finally, my, shall we say,
eyebrow at STUDENT FOUR)
'energetic' friend in the back?" (Raises an
STUDENT FOUR: (Muttering, a defiant slouch) "[Student Four's Name].
"
MR. EJ: "Perfect! Now that we're all acquainted, let's dive into our first, shall we say,
musical adventure! Forget boring scales and tedious theory for a moment! We're going to
get inspired! We're going to shake things up! Our inaugural act as this phenomenal music
club is to embark on a quest of pure, unadulterated musical joy!"
(Mr. EJ walks amongst them, his voice rising with excitement.)
MR. EJ: "We are going to a local retirement home! Yes! You heard me! We're not just going
to sing for them; we're going to sing with them! We're going to bring them joy, laughter, and
perhaps a little bit of nostalgic magic, by exploring the decades of music that shaped their
very souls!"
(The students look at each other with various degrees of confusion, dread, and mild
curiosity. Mr. EJ beams, oblivious to their internal reactions, as if this is the most
obvious and brilliant plan ever conceived.)
(The students begin to make small, hesitant movements, as if preparing to leave. They
slowly reach for bags or adjust their posture, readying themselves for this
unexpected journey.)(As the students prepare, the STAGE LIGHTS subtly shift, dimming on the student's
side, almost like a spotlight isolating Mr. EJ. The students themselves FREEZE in their
various states of preparation – a hand reaching for a strap, a foot beginning to step, a
face caught in an expression of mild bewilderment.)
(MR. EJ steps forward, now seemingly unaware of the frozen students, addressing the
audience directly. His voice drops slightly, becoming more intimate, yet still retaining
its theatrical flair.)
MR. EJ: (To audience, a knowing wink) "Oh, how they have no idea, do they? 'Mr. EJ,
' they
call me. If only they knew... the true maestro behind the curtain. The one, the only, Elton
Hercules John.
"
(He taps a finger to his temple, then gestures broadly at the frozen students.)
MR. EJ: "These dear children. So much talent, so much untapped potential, so much...
internal baggage. They think this is about singing for old people. Pish-posh! This is about
immersion! This is about connection! This is about finding the missing piece of their own
internal jigsaw puzzles.
"
MR. EJ: "I'm going to guide them, subtly, of course. Lead them to the wells of wisdom that
reside in those seasoned souls. They'll meet their musical mentors, these wonderful old
people, and without even realizing it, they'll become attached. They'll see themselves
reflected in the echoes of the past. And when they do... that's when the real music begins.
That's when their little 'internal crises' begin to unravel, replaced by the glorious harmony of
self-discovery!"
(Mr. EJ gives a final, triumphant, knowing smile to the audience.) SCENE END
Act I, Scene 2: Connections Formed (Old age home)
(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: BRIGHT and inviting, revealing a warmly decorated common room in a
retirement home. Several elderly residents are seated, some smiling expectantly,
others dozing. The four students are positioned center stage, having just finished
their performance.)
(The last note of their song fades. The residents erupt in warm applause, some
clapping feebly, others with gusto. A few cough or call out "Bravo!")
MR. EJ: (Stepping forward, beaming, claps his hands together loudly) "Magnificent!
Absolutely magnificent! Give yourselves a round of applause, my little musical marvels!"
(Students offer a somewhat awkward bow, still a little self-conscious.)
MR. EJ: "Alright, alright, settle down everyone! Thank you, dear residents, for that rousing
reception! Now, as promised, for our next act, we're going to do something truly special.
We're going to bridge the decades! Each of my talented proteges is going to spend a littletime with one of you, our esteemed musical
legends, to explore the rich tapestry of music
from your time!"
(He gestures broadly at the room. Students look around nervously, especially
STUDENT THREE.)
MR. EJ: "Go on! Mingle! Explore! Find a kindred spirit, a guiding melody! Let's get some
inter-generational harmony flowing!"
(The students hesitate for a moment, then begin to slowly disperse. STUDENT FOUR,
with a noticeable slouch, moves towards a slightly dishevelled, yet sharply dressed,
older gentleman, OLD PERSON FOUR, who has a mischievous glint in his eye.)
STUDENT FOUR: (Muttering under his breath as he approaches Old Person Four) "Ugh,
this kind of sucks. I could seriously be spending my weekend, like, anywhere else.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Cupping a hand to his ear, a smirk playing on his lips) "What was
that, sonny? Something about 'sucking'? Care to enlighten an old man?"
STUDENT FOUR: (Annoyed at being heard, he straightens up slightly, speaks loudly and
boldly) "I said, this sucks! I'd rather be literally anywhere else than stuck here for 'character
improvement'!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Raises an eyebrow, a spark ignites in his eyes) "Oh, you'd rather,
would you? Well, if it 'sucks' so much, then what the hell are you doing here, kid? Nobody
forced you to walk through that door, did they?"
STUDENT FOUR: "Actually, yeah! I'm here because I'm in detention! It's punishment! Not
because I want to sing old songs with a bunch of...
" (He trails off, gesturing vaguely at the
room.)
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Leaning forward, his voice low and cutting) "A 'bunch of old people,
'
huh? Listen here, punk. I've been in more 'detentions' than you've had hot meals. I've seen
more 'punishment' than you could dream of. And I've probably written more 'old songs' in my
sleep than you've heard in your entire life. So before you start running your mouth, maybe
learn some respect.
"
STUDENT FOUR: (Taken aback, mouth slightly open. He's not used to adults firing back like
this.) "Whoa... I... uh... sorry. I didn't mean it like that.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (A knowing look replaces his anger, a wry smile returns) "No, you
didn't. You meant it exactly like that. And I get it. Because you're looking at a younger
version of myself, kid. Always fighting, always pushing back. Thought the world owed me
something. Thought every authority figure was out to get me.
"
(Old Person Four leans back, a distant look in his eyes.)
OLD PERSON FOUR: "I used to be just like you, full of fire, full of rage. Trouble followed me
like a shadow. But then... then I found music. Not some soft, pretty, sing-along stuff. No.
Raw, angry, loud music. It wasn't about making people happy; it was about making themlisten. It was about taking all that chaos inside me
and turning it into something fierce,
something real. Something that gave me discipline, self-control... a way to just unleash
without destroying everything around me.
"
(Student Four listens, completely still. His initial defiance has melted into genuine
curiosity and a surprising sense of recognition. He looks at Old Person Four with a
nascent understanding, a flicker of empathy and sympathy in his eyes.)
STUDENT FOUR: (Quietly) "Wow... so... you really get it?"
OLD PERSON FOUR: "Kid, I practically invented 'getting it' for your generation. Now, come
on. Let me tell you about the 90s. We had rhymes that could cut glass and guitars that
screamed. And maybe, just maybe, you'll find a way to make your own noise without ending
up in detention every other week.
"
(Meanwhile, across the room, STUDENT ONE drifts towards a table where OLD
PERSON ONE is idly tapping their fingers to a silent beat. Student One picks up two
plastic spoons from a nearby tray and starts rhythmically tapping them together,
mimicking a beat they hear in their head. It's a complex, modern, electronic rhythm.)
OLD PERSON ONE: (Head snaps up, eyes lighting up. They immediately start tapping
along on the table with their fingers, mirroring the rhythm and adding their own intricate
flourishes, harmonising with the beat Student One is making.)
(Student One notices Old Person One joining in. They exchange a surprised glance,
then a shared smile, continuing to tap in sync, creating a spontaneous, harmonious
beat for a few more moments. The sound fills the space between them. After a beat,
they both stop simultaneously.)
STUDENT ONE: "Whoa! That was... that was really good! Your rhythm is insane!"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Grinning) "Right back at you, kid! Never thought I'd hear a beat like
that being dropped with plastic cutlery. You've got a killer ear.
"
STUDENT ONE: "Thanks! I'm [Student One's Name]. I'm trying to be a DJ. You know, mixing
tracks, beat-matching, drops, building sets for crowds. It's all about finding that perfect flow,
making people move to sounds they've never heard before.
"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Leans in, a conspiratorial glint in their eye) "DJ, huh? Interesting. You
know, I dabbled a bit in that myself, back in the day. The 2000s, actually. Different vibe, of
course. More about scratching vinyl and sampling obscure breaks. But the core? It's all the
same, isn't it? Feeling the crowd, riding the energy.
"
STUDENT ONE: "You were a DJ?! Seriously? That's... that's awesome!"
OLD PERSON ONE: "Seriously. Name's [Old Person One's Name]. Yeah, I was. Back when
CDJs were cutting edge and Auto-Tune was just starting to pop. I remember my first gig.
Basement party, probably seventy people crammed into a space meant for twenty. I had my
two turntables, a mixer, and a crate of records that felt heavier than my whole life.
"(Old Person One's eyes glaze over slightly, lost in the memory.)
OLD PERSON ONE: "I was terrified. Sweating through my t-shirt. But the moment I dropped
that first beat... that bass hit the floor... and I saw faces start to twitch, then bob, then move...
it was like a current went through me. I wasn't just playing music; I was creating the
atmosphere. I was controlling the energy in that room. It was hot, it was sweaty, it was loud,
and it was the most beautiful feeling in the world. I knew right then, that was it for me. That
was my future.
"
(Old Person One smiles warmly at Student One, who is captivated, hanging on every
word. Student One sees a reflection of their own aspirations in Old Person One's
passionate memory.)
(Further across the room, STUDENT THREE is almost physically trying to blend into
the wallpaper, crouched slightly by a potted plant, clearly wanting to be invisible. An
older woman, OLD PERSON THREE, dressed in vibrant, slightly flamboyant clothing
from the 80s, spots her. Old Person Three bounds over with an incredibly energetic
stride.)
OLD PERSON THREE: (Arriving with a flourish, a big, beaming smile, extends a hand for an
enthusiastic HIGH-FIVE) "Well, hello there, sunshine! Don't be shy, come on! Give me five!
You were absolutely brilliant up there!"
(Student Three jumps, startled, almost flinching from the unexpected high-five. They
awkwardly offer a limp hand, looking terrified.)
OLD PERSON THREE: (Chuckles, immediately noticing Student Three's discomfort, and
lowers her hand, her demeanor softening slightly, though her voice remains warm and
engaging.) "Oh! My apologies, darling! Didn't mean to scare you out of your skin! Old habits,
you know. Back in my day, we greeted every single fan like they were family! So, what are
you doing hiding in the shadows like a wallflower, sweet pea? You've got a voice, don't you?
Heard it loud and clear when you were singing!"
STUDENT THREE: (Voice barely a whisper, looking down at her feet) "I... I just... I'm not
really good at... talking to people. My parents made me join this club. They think it'll help me
make friends. But I don't really have any. And I get really nervous that no one will like me.
It's... it's just a lot of anxiety.
"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Nods slowly, her vibrant expression softening further, her eyes filled
with genuine understanding.) "Oh, honey.
'No one will like you.
' That old chestnut, huh?
Believe me, I know that song and dance. Every single note of it. It's terrifying, isn't it? That
little voice in your head, whispering all sorts of nasty things.
"
(Old Person Three gently places a hand on Student Three's arm, a comforting,
reassuring touch.)
OLD PERSON THREE: "But let me tell you something, darling. You, hiding in the corner, are
not alone. Not even close. You see this fabulousness?" (Gestures to her vibrant outfit.) "Thisloud, proud,
unadulterated shyness.
"
'take up all the space' attitude? This, my dear, was built on a foundation of pure,
OLD PERSON THREE: "I was a terrified little thing, believe it or not. I'd rather have pulled
my own teeth than get up on a stage or even talk to a new person. But then, a lightning bolt
struck! A competition! My bandmates, bless their hearts, signed me up without telling me. It
was sink or swim. And honey, when you're faced with a thousand flashing lights and a
roaring crowd, you either find your inner diva, or you let the silence eat you whole.
"
OLD PERSON THREE: "And I chose to roar! I channeled every single insecurity, every fear,
every doubt, into a blast of pure, unadulterated sound! It was the 80s, remember? Big hair,
big shoulders, even bigger sound! And through that music, through that energy, I found my
voice. I found my friends. I found my tribe. And I realized that the people who truly matter,
they'll love you for all your quirks, not despite them. They'll pull you out of the shadows and
into the blinding, glorious sun.
"
(Old Person Three smiles encouragingly at Student Three, whose eyes are now wide
with a mix of surprise and a glimmer of hope. The rigid tension in Student Three's
shoulders has eased, replaced by a tentative curiosity.)
(Near the back, away from the students' interactions, MR. EJ spots a particularly
distinguished-looking older man, OLD PERSON FIVE, with a twinkle in his eye. Mr.
EJ's usual flamboyant stride quickens, a genuine, less performative joy lighting up his
face.)
MR. EJ: "BERNARD! You old rogue! Still kicking up a fuss, I see!"
OLD PERSON FIVE: (Turns, a wide, knowing grin spreading across his face as he
recognizes Mr. EJ.) "ELTON! You flamboyant old fossil! What in the name of sequined
jumpsuits are you doing here? Last I heard, you were still commanding stadiums, not a
common room full of napping geriatrics!"
(They embrace in a warm, slightly theatrical hug, patting each other on the back, a
genuine friendship evident. They pull apart, still grinning.)
MR. EJ: "Oh, you know me, Bernard. Always looking for the next grand adventure! Though I
'napping geriatrics' sounds like a rather comfortable audience for once, wouldn't
must say,
you agree?"
OLD PERSON FIVE: (Chuckles, shaking his head) "Always the charmer. But seriously,
Elton. A music teacher? You, the man who once demanded a specific brand of sparkling
water and a room temperature of precisely 22 degrees Celsius for a single soundcheck. Are
you sure about this? Trading the roar of the crowd for the squeak of a violin lesson?"
MR. EJ: (His smile softens, a deep sincerity entering his eyes as he looks out at the room,
then back at Bernard.) "Bernard, my dear friend, there's a different kind of roar here. It's the
roar of potential. The quiet spark that ignites when a young soul connects with a melody,
truly connects. The joy of creating, not just performing. It's what drew us in all those years
ago, wasn't it? The sheer, unadulterated love of music.
"MR. EJ: "And honestly, after decades of grandeur, I find myself drawn back to the very
essence of it. To instill that passion, that unwavering love for music, into the next generation.
To show them that it's more than just notes on a page or a beat in a club. It's a language, a
healer, a revolutionary. That's why I started this club, Bernard. To ensure the magic of music
continues to burn brightly, to never fade.
"
OLD PERSON FIVE: (Nods slowly, a nostalgic look on his face.) "I remember those days,
Elton. Holed up in that dingy flat, just the piano, a pen, and a dream. No glitter, no grand
stages, just the pure, raw creation. We thought we'd change the world with three chords and
a catchy chorus, didn't we?"
MR. EJ: (A faraway look, a fond smile.) "We did more than just dream, old friend. We did
change it. One note, one lyric, one unforgettable performance at a time. And now... now it's
their turn to discover that power. To take what we built and make it their own.
"
(They share a moment of sweet, comfortable silence, reminiscing on their shared
history and the timeless power of music.)
(At a grand piano or keyboard at the side of the room, STUDENT TWO plays the last
few notes of a short, technically complex classical piece. Their fingers are flawless,
precise, a blur across the keys. The few elderly residents nearby clap politely, a soft,
appreciative sound.)
**(An older gentleman, OLD PERSON TWO, approaches Student Two. He has an air of
quiet dignity, but his eyes are sharp and discerning.)
OLD PERSON TWO: "Masterful. Absolutely masterful. I haven't seen technique like that in...
well, in more years than I care to count.
"
STUDENT TWO: (A slight, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment, a hint of pride.)
"Thank you.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Cutting him off, a gentle but firm tone.) "But.
"
(Student Two's head snaps up, a flicker of genuine offense crossing their face. They
straighten their posture, defensive.)
STUDENT TWO: "But? What 'but'? I've won countless awards! Regional competitions,
multiple first-place finishes! I play for Nationals! What could possibly be 'lacking' in my
performance? My technique is impeccable!"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Calmly, meeting Student Two's indignant gaze.) "Your technique is
indeed impeccable. Flawless, even. Your fingers dance across those keys with incredible
speed and precision. You wield the pedals with perfect timing, drawing out every note, every
sustain, exactly as it should be. You play... excellently.
"
(A beat of silence. Student Two is still bristling, but a slight confusion starts to creep
in.)
OLD PERSON TWO: "But you lack passion.
"(Student Two is visibly gobsmacked, speechless. The word hangs in the air, a direct
hit to their core. They look offended, perhaps even a little lost.)
OLD PERSON TWO: (Doubling down, leaning in slightly.) "Yes. Passion. You play at the
music, not through it. It's as if you don't truly love the notes you're producing. You don't
appreciate the immense power you hold within that skill. It's perfect... but it's cold.
"
STUDENT TWO: (Recoiling, defensively.) "I absolutely play with passion! I devote hours,
days, to this! Watch!"
(Student Two immediately launches into another short, incredibly complex piece.
Again, the execution is flawless, every note hit, every crescendo and diminuendo
perfectly rendered. It is technically brilliant.)
(When they finish, Old Person Two stops them with a raised hand before any applause
can begin. Old Person Two then sits down at the keyboard. They play the same exact
tune that Student Two just played, but with a profound difference. Each note
resonates with a deeper emotion, a subtle vibrato, a raw vulnerability, a joyous swell.
It's not just notes; it's a story, a feeling, a living breath of sound. Student Two
immediately notices the stark, almost painful difference. Their expression shifts from
defensiveness to genuine, wide-eyed curiosity.)
OLD PERSON TWO: (Stops playing, turns to Student Two, voice gentle but direct.) "Do you
love music?"
STUDENT TWO: (Hesitates, then carefully.) "I... I'm great at music. I'm very skilled.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: "I didn't ask if you were great at music. I asked if you love music.
"
(Student Two is silent, truly stumped by the question. A long beat passes.)
OLD PERSON TWO: "As much as you have so much skill, and believe me, you have it in
spades, it is just as important to have a passion for what you are doing. The technique is the
body, but passion... passion is the soul of the music.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: "Have you actually paid attention to the way you play? And the effect it
has on the people around you?"
STUDENT TWO: (Looking away, admits quietly.) "No. I'm always focused on perfect
execution. On hitting every note, exactly right.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: "And it shows. It shows that you don't play with passion. Listen, kid.
Music... music isn't just a series of sounds. It's a breath. It's a pulse. It's the laughter of
children and the tears of a broken heart. It's the roar of a crowd and the whisper of a secret.
It's the joy you feel when you wake up, and the comfort you seek when the world feels too
heavy.
"
(Old Person Two gestures passionately, his eyes shining.)OLD PERSON TWO: "I fell in love with music before I even knew what a
note was. It was
the way my grandmother hummed when she cooked, the rhythm of the rain on the tin roof,
the church choir shaking the very foundations of the building. It was a feeling before it was a
skill. And when I picked up my first instrument, it wasn't about perfection; it was about
pouring that feeling, that absolute, overwhelming joy and pain and everything in between,
into the sound. It was my heartbeat. And when you let your heartbeat flow through your
fingers, through those keys... that's when music truly comes alive. That's when you stop
being a great player and start being a great musician.
"
(Student Two is silent, deeply touched. They look at their hands, then back at Old
Person Two, a profound shift occurring in their understanding. The passion in Old
Person Two's voice and the demonstration of emotion in their playing have clearly hit
home.)
(A NURSE, efficient and brisk, enters the common room carrying a tray with small
plastic cups and a pitcher of water. She has a clipboard tucked under her arm.)
NURSE: (Cheerfully, but with an underlying firmness that brooks no argument.) "Alright, my
lovelies! Time for your afternoon dose of liquid sunshine! Pills and vitamins for everyone!"
(A collective groan rises from the elderly residents. Some sigh dramatically, others
roll their eyes, and a few mutter under their breath.)
OLD PERSON ONE: (To Student One, with a grimace) "Ah, the daily joy of being ancient.
More pills than pop songs, I tell ya.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (As the Nurse approaches with his cup) "Must you insist on this
tyranny, Agnes? Can't a man just enjoy a peaceful afternoon?"
NURSE: (Handing him his cup and water) "Now, now, Mr. Henderson, you know the drill.
Essential maintenance for our rock stars. Swallow it down.
"
(Old Person Four takes the cup, grumbling, as the Nurse moves to the next resident.)
OLD PERSON THREE: (Taking her pills with a dramatic sigh) "Honestly, these things taste
like the 90s. All grunge and no glitter.
"
(The Nurse makes her rounds, patiently handing out cups and glasses of water, each
old person offering a small complaint or a theatrical sigh as they take their
medication.)
MR. EJ: (His voice, though still upbeat, carries a hint of a gentle summons, acknowledging
the passing of time. He steps forward slightly, clapping his hands softly to get the students'
attention.) "Alright, my little maestros and muses! Gather 'round, gather 'round! Our time
here, alas, must draw to a close for today!"
(The students slowly disengage from their conversations with the elderly residents.
Their previous reluctance to be there has been replaced by a visible sadness and anewfound connection. STUDENT ONE claps
Old Person One on the shoulder, a
genuine grin on their face. STUDENT THREE offers a shy but real smile to Old Person
Three, who gives a small, encouraging wave. STUDENT FOUR nods respectfully to
Old Person Four, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. STUDENT TWO looks wistfully
at Old Person Two, a new thoughtfulness on their face.)
STUDENT ONE: (To Old Person One, genuinely disappointed) "Already? Man, I could listen
to your stories all day.
"
STUDENT THREE: (Quietly, to Old Person Three) "It was... really nice talking to you.
"
STUDENT FOUR: (To Old Person Four, almost a whisper) "See ya around, maybe.
"
STUDENT TWO: (To Old Person Two, a hint of awe in their voice) "Thank you... for showing
me that.
"
(The students begin to walk slowly towards the exit, glancing back at their new
mentors. The elderly residents wave them off, their faces showing a mixture of
fondness and the bittersweet nature of goodbyes.)
(As the last student steps off the stage, the LIGHTS begin to FADE TO BLACK slowly
and deliberately, emphasising the departure. The CURTAINS begin to CLOSE on the
final image of the common room.)
(SCENE END)
Act I, Scene 3: The Party Plan (class room scene)
(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: Dim, reminiscent of the first scene, slowly brightening to reveal the
classroom. The students are already seated at their tables, looking thoughtful, a little
subdued, a shift from their earlier defiance or shyness.)
STUDENT ONE: (Sighs, leaning back in their chair, but with a wistful expression) "Man... I
actually kind of miss him already. Old Person One, I mean. Their stories were wild.
"
STUDENT FOUR: (Shifts, avoiding eye contact, but a hint of a frown on his face) "Yeah,
well... Old Person Four was... something. Didn't think an old guy could still talk that much
smack.
"
(A small, shared chuckle from STUDENT ONE and STUDENT FOUR.)
STUDENT THREE: (Softly) "Old Person Three was so... understanding. It felt good to
actually talk to someone about... stuff.
"
STUDENT TWO: (Looking at his hands, a rare, uncharacteristic thoughtfulness in his
posture) "Old Person Two... they made me realize... a lot.
"(MR. EJ is sitting on the edge of his desk, observing them all with a quiet, knowing
smile. He takes a sip from a mug.)
MR. EJ: "So, my musical adventurers. Thoughts? Revelations? Did the past impart any
wisdom upon your young, impressionable minds?"
STUDENT ONE: "Mine was a DJ! A legit DJ from the 2000s! They were talking about
scratching and sampling... it was actually really cool. Like, the roots of what I'm doing now.
"
STUDENT FOUR: (Looks up, still a bit gruff) "Old Person Four was a rapper, kind of. Or
punk, or something. Just... angry music. But they totally got it, you know? About being mad
and not knowing what to do with it.
" (He shrugs, embarrassed by his own honesty.)
MR. EJ: (Nods, a gentle smile) "Indeed. Music, in all its forms, is a powerful conduit for
emotion. And you, little wallflower?" (Looks to Student Three with warmth.)
STUDENT THREE: (A shy smile, actually meeting his gaze) "Old Person Three was really
kind. And... they told me about how they used to be shy too, and how music helped them. It
made me feel... less alone.
"
MR. EJ: (To Student Two) "And our maestro? Any epiphanies from the grand master of the
keys?"
STUDENT TWO: (Still looking thoughtful) "Old Person Two... said I play without passion.
And they showed me... what it sounds like when you do. It was... humbling.
"
MR. EJ: (Slightly chuckles, takes another sip from his mug.) "Ah, yes. The naked truth,
sometimes delivered by the most unexpected couriers. It seems our first expedition was a
resounding success!"
STUDENT THREE: (Suddenly sits up, a new spark in her eyes) "Mr. EJ! What if... what if we
threw them a party? Like, a proper thank you! They were so nice, and they taught us so
much! We could bring the music to them!"
(The other students look at each other, intrigued by the idea.)
MR. EJ: (Eyes light up, a mischievous glint returning. He slides off the desk, walking to the
front of the stage.) "A party, you say? My dear, that is a truly splendid idea! A fitting gesture!
And since this is a music class, what better way to celebrate than with a little... musical
challenge!"
(Mr. EJ gestures grandly offstage. After a beat, he returns, dragging a large, wooden,
extremely dusty box onto the very front of the stage. He places it down with a
theatrical flourish, then blows dramatically over it. A cloud of glittery dust explodes
into the air, shimmering in the lights.)
MR. EJ: "Voila! The Pandora's Box of forgotten melodies! For your party, my budding
impresarios, you will provide the entertainment using a very specific item!"(He walks back to his desk, picks up the now-dusty box,
carries it over, and places it
with a soft thud onto STUDENT ONE's table.)
MR. EJ: "Come closer, come closer! Don't be shy!"
(The students all stand up and gather around the box, their heads craning with
curiosity.)
MR. EJ: (Reaching into the box dramatically, pulls out a vinyl record player – old, but
clearly well-maintained beneath the dust.) "Student One, for you, my aspiring DJ, the iconic
turntable! Your mission: to spin the sound of the 60s, a decade of pure rock and roll
rebellion!"
(He hands the record player to STUDENT ONE, who takes it, looking at it with a mix of
curiosity and fascination. They turn it over in their hands, perhaps recognizing the
general concept but not the specific mechanics. A thought crosses their face, as if
remembering something.)
STUDENT ONE: "Whoa... my grandpa has one of these in his garage. Never thought it
actually worked.
"
MR. EJ: (Pulls out a portable cassette player with headphones) "Student Four! For your
raw energy, the gritty sound of the 90s! The ultimate boom-box essential: the cassette
player!"
(He hands it to STUDENT FOUR, who eyes it suspiciously, then shoves it into his
pocket with a grunt, though a hint of intrigue is there. He probably knows what it is,
even if it's old school.)
STUDENT FOUR: "A tape deck? Seriously? My dad still has tapes he won't let anyone
touch.
"
MR. EJ: (Pulls out a sleek, portable CD player) "Student Three! For your blossoming
confidence, the vibrant beats of the 80s! The compact, dynamic CD player!"
(He hands it to STUDENT THREE, who looks at it with slight apprehension, then a
growing smile as she considers the possibilities. She holds it carefully.)
STUDENT THREE: "A CD player! My mom has tons of these! She calls them 'compact
discs'
.
"
MR. EJ: (Pulls out a classic, slightly chunky iPod Classic) "And for our virtuoso, Student
Two! The turn of the millennium, the dawn of digital! The revolutionary iPod!"
(He hands it to STUDENT TWO, who takes it with a professional, analytical gaze. They
recognize it immediately, even if it's an older model.)
STUDENT TWO: "An iPod Classic? Huh. My first music player was one of these, before
streaming.
"MR. EJ: "Your challenge, my dear students, is to master these relics! To bring the authentic
sound of your chosen decade to life for our friends at the retirement home! Use them to
make music, to inspire, to connect!"
(The students begin to huddle together, murmuring excitedly, starting to plan the
party around this new challenge. They lean in, whispering, gesturing to their assigned
devices, their previous sadness evaporating, replaced by a shared purpose.)
(As they enthusiastically start planning, the STAGE GOES DARK, immersing the
classroom in shadow. The students FREEZE in their planning poses, mid-gesture,
mid-whisper.)
(A single, bright, almost theatrical SPOTLIGHT snaps onto MR. EJ at the very front of
the stage. He is transformed. His clothes subtly shift to a more extravagant, iconic 60s
performance outfit – perhaps a sequined jacket, platform boots, or oversized glasses.
He is younger, vibrant, full of electric energy. The sound of a roaring, cheering
CROWD swells slightly in the background, a palpable buzz of anticipation.)
MR. EJ (as YOUNG ELTON): (Grinning, full of youthful exuberance, he addresses the
unseen crowd, perhaps gesturing with a microphone stand) "Hello, hello, hello! Are you
ready to rock?! Are you ready to roll?! Are you ready to feel the music, deep in your soul?!"
(SOUND: The intro to a classic, upbeat 60s rock/pop song begins to play, perhaps
something reminiscent of early Elton John or a similar era. MR. EJ launches into a
vibrant, energetic PERFORMANCE, singing and dancing with incredible passion and
showmanship. He spins, he leaps, he pounds on an imaginary piano, completely lost
in the moment, living his prime. The performance is brief but impactful, conveying his
legendary status and raw talent.)
(As the song reaches its crescendo, MR. EJ hits a final pose, bathed in the spotlight.
The CROWD SOUND fades. The music comes to an abrupt but clean stop.)
(The SPOTLIGHT FADES on Mr. EJ. The stage LIGHTS snap back ON to their original
classroom brightness, revealing MR. EJ exactly where he was before the flashback,
looking just as he did, perhaps a tiny bit disheveled from the 'effort,
' but otherwise
unchanged. The students are still UNFROZEN in their planning huddle, oblivious to
the performance that just occurred.)
STUDENT TWO: (Voice quiet, as if delivering bad news, looking up from his phone.) "Hold
on a second. I just called the retirement home to check on their visiting hours for the party.
They said... the residents aren't actually allowed to leave the premises. For their safety,
apparently.
"
STUDENT THREE: (Face falls, utterly crestfallen.) "What?! No! But... but my plan! They
were going to have so much fun! This is so disappointing.
"
STUDENT FOUR: (Jumps up, slamming his hand on the table, still careful not to curse but
clearly agitated.) "Screw that! That's... that's totally messed up! They deserve a night out!
We can't let them be stuck here, especially after everything they told us!"STUDENT TWO: (Looking alarmed, glances nervously at Mr. EJ,
who seems distracted,
perhaps still recovering from his 'flashback.
') "But... that's elder theft! We could go to prison
for that!"
STUDENT FOUR: (Turns to Student Two, passionate.) "Prison? For giving some old
legends one night of fun?! This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing for them! They deserve it! We
gotta do it for our idols, man!"
STUDENT THREE: (Her disappointment turning to a fierce determination, she backs up
Student Four.) "Yeah! Come on, Student Two! This is a big deal! They touched us,
remember? We have to do something! This is our chance to give back!"
STUDENT ONE: (Nodding, a mischievous grin spreading across their face.) "You know
what? Student Four's right! This is a great idea! It's rebellious! It's exactly what they'd do
back in their day! We should totally consider it!"
STUDENT TWO: (Hesitates, looking between the determined faces of the other students,
then back at his phone. The idea of breaking rules clearly makes him uncomfortable, but the
genuine desire for the old people to have fun weighs on him.) "I... I guess... it would be a
shame for them not to experience a proper party. And Old Person Two did talk about
passion...
" (He sighs, then a small, defiant flicker enters his eyes.) "Okay. Fine. Let's... let's
help them escape. Just for one night. For fun.
"
(A silent, conspiratorial look passes between the four students. They then subtly
begin to lean in closer, whispering, starting to plan in hushed tones, glancing around
to ensure MR. EJ doesn't overhear their audacious new scheme. They are no longer
just planning a party; they are orchestrating an escape.)
(SCENE END
INTERMISSIONAct II, Scene 1: Elder Theft
(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: Dim, casting long shadows across the common room of the retirement
home. The stage is quiet, save for the gentle, rhythmic snoring from some of the
sleeping residents. The atmosphere is hushed, almost conspiratorial.)
(The four students, now dressed in darker, less conspicuous clothing, creep onto the
stage. They move with a mix of trepidation and excited determination, navigating
between the armchairs and tables to approach their respective mentors.)
STUDENT THREE: (Whispering, gently nudging OLD PERSON THREE, who is dozing in a
vibrant bathrobe.) "Psst. Old Person Three. Wake up. It's us.
"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Stirring, blinking, then her eyes widen as she sees the students.)
"Good heavens! My little pop stars! What on earth are you doing here at this hour? Did you
lose your way back to the land of the living?"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Waking up as STUDENT ONE approaches, rubbing their eyes.)
"What's all the ruckus? Did the early bird get the worm or just indigestion?"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Already awake, having seen STUDENT TWO approach, eyes sharp.)
"I detect afoot, something quite... irregular.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Snapping awake as STUDENT FOUR looms over him, a
mischievous glint already in his eye.) "You again, punk? What fresh hell have you wrought
upon my slumber?"
STUDENT THREE: (Stepping forward, a determined look on her usually shy face.) "We're
here... because we want to invite you all to a party! A thank you for everything you shared
with us today. It really meant a lot.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: (A knowing look, a slight frown.) "A party? My dear, you know we're
not permitted to leave the premises. Rules, regulations, safety protocols...
"
STUDENT ONE: (Grinning, leaning in conspiratorially.) "Yeah, we know! That's why we're
sneaking you guys out! It's going to be epic!"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Raises an eyebrow, a slight chuckle escaping.) "Sneaking us out? Are
you children quite mad? Trying to get into trouble with Nurse Agnes, are we? She's got eyes
in the back of her head, that one.
"
STUDENT TWO: (Stepping forward, looking directly at Old Person One, his voice earnest.)
"You're worth getting in trouble for. Every one of you.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Looks from Student Two to Student Four, a smirk spreading across
his face.) "This is Student Four's idea, isn't it? I knew it. Only a hooligan like him would
dream up such a stunt.
"STUDENT FOUR: (Doesn't deny it, grins, a touch of pride in his voice.) "Listen, Old Person
Four, and all of you. We just wanna give you a night of fun. We know you're bored, come on,
you can't tell me that you don't wanna have some actual fun for once?"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (His smirk widens, then he exhales, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his
chest. He stretches, his eyes sparkling.) "You know what, kid? You got me. Let's do this.
Bored is an understatement.
"
(A ripple of excitement passes through the group of old people. They begin to slowly,
and with some difficulty, prepare themselves to leave, some adjusting their clothes,
others just looking eager.)
(Suddenly, the distant, unmistakable SOUND of NURSE AGNES'S FOOTSTEPS
resonates from the hallway, along with her cheerful but firm voice carrying from
offstage,
"Time for your evening constitution, everyone! Pills, pills, glorious pills!")
(A collective, audible GROAN emanates from the elderly residents. Without a word,
they begin to scramble, moving surprisingly quickly and quietly, pulling themselves
up and HIDING THEMSELVES OFFSTAGE behind large potted plants, decorative
screens, or perhaps into a dimly lit side alcove. The students guide them with hurried
whispers, a flurry of motion.)
(The stage is now empty, save for the furniture and the dim light.)
(After a beat, the main door to the common room CREAKS OPEN cautiously. MR. EJ,
now sporting a ridiculous, oversized trench coat, a wide-brimmed fedora pulled low,
and comically large, dark sunglasses, tiptoes onto the stage. He looks utterly
ridiculous in his "disguise.
")
MR. EJ: (Whispering loudly, stage-whispering to himself) "Alright, Elton, old boy. Operation
'Liberate Bernard' initiated. Maintain stealth. Remember your ninja training from that
disastrous mime phase...
"
(He tiptoes over to where OLD PERSON FIVE, Bernard, is still comfortably seated, a
small knowing smile on his face, having anticipated this.)
OLD PERSON FIVE: (Calmly, eyes twinkling) "Elton, darling. What on earth are you
wearing? Trying to break into Fort Knox or just a sensible supper club?"
MR. EJ: (Jumps, startled, then lowers his voice further, pulling Old Person Five up.)
"Bernard! Shh! The walls have ears! And the nurse has a whistle! Come on, you old rogue,
you know you want to do one final, glorious performance with me. Help me, won't you?"
OLD PERSON FIVE: (Chuckles, allowing himself to be led.) "Oh, Elton. Of course, I'll help
you. Always. You're my friend. And a chance to escape Nurse Agnes's pill patrol? Lead the
way, you beautiful madman.
"
(MR. EJ and OLD PERSON FIVE slowly and comically SNEAK AWAY OFFSTAGE in the
direction the students and other residents went.)(The stage remains empty for a beat, the only sound the faint, still-approaching
footsteps and voice of Nurse Agnes.)
(Suddenly, the iconic, pulsing theme music from MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE begins to
play, very softly at first, then swelling slightly. From the various hiding spots and
offstage wings, the four STUDENTS and the five OLD PEOPLE (now including Old
Person Five) begin to CROSS THE STAGE in a comically dramatic, slow-motion
"sneaking" fashion. They dart from shadow to shadow, peeking around corners, some
of the old people clearly relishing the clandestine nature of it, others looking a bit
confused but going along. They form a slightly clumsy but determined procession,
exiting the stage with exaggerated stealth.)
(The stage is now completely EMPTY, bathed in the dim light. Only the common room
setting remains, a silent testament to the recent exodus.)
(SOUND: The MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE THEME FADES out as NURSE AGNES finally
enters the common room, carrying her tray of pills and water, still humming
cheerfully.)
NURSE AGNES: (Looking around, her brow furrowed in annoyance rather than panic.)
"Alright, everyone! Pills! Time for your evening... medication?" (She trails off, noticing the
empty chairs, a sigh of exasperation escaping her lips.) "Oh, for goodness sake.
"
(She places the tray down with a firm thud. No groans, no grumbles.)
NURSE AGNES: (A little louder, her voice laced with weary frustration.) "Hello? Mr.
Henderson? Mrs. Albright? Anyone home? Don't tell me you've all decided to play
hide-and-seek with your essential vitamins today!"
(Silence. Her lips thin into a disapproving line.)
NURSE AGNES: (Calls out, her tone sharp with irritation.) "Bernard! Esther! Malcolm!
Gloria! Robert! Honestly, you're not children. This isn't funny!"
(She marches directly to the light switch on the wall and FLICKS IT ON. The STAGE
LIGHTS snap ON to FULL BRIGHTNESS, starkly illuminating the utterly empty
common room. The vacant chairs, the untouched pill cups on her tray – it's
undeniable.)
NURSE AGNES: (Stares at the empty room, a hand on her hip, more annoyed than
shocked. A wry, dark chuckle escapes her.) "Well, isn't that just typical. One moment they're
here, the next they've all shuffled off this mortal coil... or, more likely, just dodged their
bedtime meds again. Honestly, the lengths some people will go to avoid a simple B12.
"
(She shakes her head, muttering to herself, a picture of exasperated exasperation as
the lights hold on her.)
(SCENE END)Act II, Scene 2: The Battle of the Beats
(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: A kaleidoscope of PULSING, FLASHING COLORED LIGHTS transforms the
classroom. Streamers are haphazardly draped, balloons bob around, and a snack
table laden with treats sits to one side. A modern, upbeat PARTY MUSIC track plays in
the background, a blend of contemporary pop and electronic beats. The atmosphere
is joyous and energetic. The four students and their four "idols" are mingling, some
lightly dancing, others chatting animatedly.)
STUDENT ONE: (Bouncing slightly to the music, laughing) "This is way better than
detention! Who knew a music club could be so... rebellious?"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Doing a small, graceful twirl, her vibrant outfit catching the flashing
lights.) "Oh, this brings me back! The energy, the lights... I used to tear up the dance floor in
my day! The 80s, darling, we invented dancing!"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Chuckles, a glint in their eye as they watch the subtle movements of
the younger generation.) "You know, seeing all these people moving, even if it's just a little
shuffle, reminds me of the clubs. I had people dancing just like this back when I was a DJ.
Learned a thing or two then. And trust me, I still know how to bust it down on the dance
floor!"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Raises an elegant eyebrow, a playful smirk.) "Oh, please. No way,
darling. You bust it down better than me? The 80s had the best music for dancing. Pumping
bass, synthesizers, pure joy!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Snorting, stepping forward, arms crossed.) "Hell no! You're all
bluffing! The 90s had the real music! Grungy guitars, raw lyrics, beats that actually hit you
where it mattered! That's what made you move!"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Interjecting calmly, but with an air of absolute authority, looking from
one to the other.) "You are all, respectfully, incorrect. The 70s. The undisputed golden age of
music. The sheer innovation, the funk, the soul! And the instruments introduced then?
Unparalleled.
"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Waving a dismissive hand, a playful scoff.) "Oh, please, all of you are
just bluffing! Everyone knows the 2000s were the pinnacle! The digital age, the evolution of
sound! It was a whole new level!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Eyes narrowing, a dangerous glint, but still playful.) "Oh, you really
wanna stand on that? You think your little digital beats can stand up to the raw power of the
90s?" He turns to the group.
"Alright, then. Let's have a battle of the beats! My money's on
the grunge!"
**(A chorus of enthusiastic "YES!" and "Agreed!" erupts from the old people. The students,
catching the competitive fire, immediately begin to hype up their respective "idols.
")STUDENT FOUR: (Jumping up and down, pointing at Old Person Four.) "Yeah! My old
person's gonna drag your old person in the mud! 90s all the way!"
STUDENT THREE: (Putting a hand on her hip, a newfound confidence in her voice.) "Dream
on, Student Four! Old Person Three is gonna blow you all away! Nobody dances like the
80s!"
STUDENT ONE: (Grinning broadly.) "Please! My DJ is gonna show you what real rhythm is!
2000s for the win! DJing was definitely better than... whatever you guys were doing!"
STUDENT TWO: (A rare, competitive spark in his eye, looking at Old Person Two.) "Don't
even try it. The technical brilliance and emotional depth of the 70s? There's no comparison.
Old Person Two is definitely better than all of you combined!"
(A flurry of playful jabs and boasts fly between the students and old people, a friendly
but fierce "tiff-taff" of pride in their respective decades.)
STUDENT ONE: (Clapping his hands together, stepping forward.) "Alright, alright! Settle
down, you passionate lot! You've challenged each other, you've hyped yourselves up! Now,
let the music do the talking!"
(As Student One finishes, the CURTAINS BEGIN TO CLOSE, momentarily shrouding
the party in darkness. A moment of anticipation hangs in the air.)
(After a brief pause, the CURTAINS REOPEN to reveal a spotlight on the makeshift
stage area. STUDENT THREE, now holding a microphone with surprising confidence,
strikes a pose, embodying a classic hip-hop announcer.)
STUDENT THREE: (Voice strong and rhythmic, like an MC.) "Yo, yo, yo! Can I get a mic
check?! One, two! Testing, one, two! Are you ready, Edenvale?! Are you ready for this lyrical
showdown! This rhythmic rumble! This BATTLE OF THE BEATS?!"
(She gestures to the scattered audience of residents and students, who cheer and
clap.)
STUDENT THREE: "Tonight, we've got legends in the house! Representing decades of pure
musical fire! So listen close, feel the rhythm, and when the dust settles, you better be ready
to vote for your favorite performance!"
STUDENT THREE: "Alright, without further ado, let's take it way, way back to where it all
began for some of our O.G. crew! Kicking off the night, with the soulful sounds and
groundbreaking grooves, hailing from the era of disco, funk, and pure artistry... give it up for
OLD PERSON TWO and STUDENT TWO, representing the fabulous SEVENTIES!"
(The spotlight shifts to OLD PERSON TWO and STUDENT TWO as they ready
themselves for their performance. The initial background party music fades
completely.)Performance 1: The 70s (Old Person Two & Student Two)
(LIGHTS: Warm, vibrant, with a hint of disco-era sparkle. SOUND: The smooth,
intricate sounds of 70s funk, soul, and jazz-fusion begin. Old Person Two, at the
keyboard, plays with incredible feel and melodic richness, his fingers seemingly
dancing with newfound passion. Student Two, initially precise, starts to loosen up,
focusing on the feel of the music, adding subtle, improvised harmonies or rhythmic
flourishes. They showcase the decade's iconic instruments and evolving genres. Old
Person Two might even stand and do a small, elegant disco move. The performance is
10-15 minutes, highlighting the depth and musicality of the era.)
Performance 2: The 80s (Old Person Three & Student Three)
(LIGHTS: Bold, neon, energetic, with sharp light changes. SOUND: The unmistakable
synth-pop, new wave, and high-energy rock of the 80s takes over. Old Person Three,
now fully in her element, is a whirlwind of expressive dance, big gestures, and maybe
even a spontaneous vocal flourish. Student Three, encouraged by Old Person Three's
exuberance, uses the CD player to cue specific parts of songs, perhaps even stepping
out from behind it to do a small, enthusiastic dance move, her shyness visibly melting
away. Their performance is 10-15 minutes, emphasizing the fun, fashion, and
unforgettable anthems of the decade.)
Performance 3: The 90s (Old Person Four & Student Four)
(LIGHTS: Grittier, darker, with more intense, single-color washes. SOUND: The raw,
powerful sounds of 90s grunge, hip-hop, and alternative rock blast through. Old
Person Four, full of rebellious energy, might air-guitar fiercely or deliver a
spoken-word rap with defiant swagger. Student Four, now fully engaged, uses the
cassette player to create intentional distortion or manipulate the playback speed,
embracing the raw, unpolished aesthetic. Their performance is 10-15 minutes,
showcasing the angst, energy, and lyrical prowess of the era.)
Performance 4: The 2000s (Old Person One & Student One)
(LIGHTS: Dynamic, modern, with intricate patterns and rapid shifts, reflecting digital
precision. SOUND: The eclectic mix of 2000s pop, R&B, and early electronic dance
music fills the space. Old Person One, now visibly excited, might move with
surprising agility, mimicking DJ scratches or dropping invisible beats. Student One,
fully confident, uses the turntable not just to play, but to mix and manipulate the
sounds, creating seamless transitions and engaging mash-ups. Their performance is
10-15 minutes, demonstrating the innovative and digitally-driven sounds of the
decade.)(As the final performance concludes, the LIGHTS on stage FADE TO BLACK, holding
for a brief, dramatic beat. The silence is broken only by the lingering echoes of the
last song.)
(Then, the LIGHTS SNAP BACK ON to the original, vibrant PARTY SETTING of the
classroom. Everyone is still buzzing, but the energy has shifted to warm camaraderie.
Some of the old people are visibly out of breath, fanning themselves, but beaming.)
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Huffing, clutching his chest dramatically.) "Whoo! Thought I was
gonna pop a hip there! But you know what? Still got it! That was harder than I remembered,
but the 90s still kick!"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Fanning herself with a napkin, but her eyes sparkle.) "Darling, I'm
practically glowing! My legs feel like jelly, but darling, did we not just slay that dance floor?
The 80s always bring the moves!"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Smiling faintly, a bead of sweat on his brow.) "Perhaps I
overestimated my endurance... but the sheer beauty of those chord progressions! Well done,
Student Two. Your precision brought out the soul of the 70s quite beautifully.
"
STUDENT TWO: (Nodding, a genuine smile on his face.) "And your passion, Old Person
Two. It was... inspiring. You helped me hear the music differently.
"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Wipes a bit of sweat from their forehead.) "You kids actually made
that turntable sing, Student One! The 2000s definitely had some tricks up their sleeve!"
STUDENT ONE: (Grinning) "And you, Old Person One, you made those beats come alive! It
was amazing to see the master at work!"
STUDENT FOUR: (Clapping Old Person Four on the back.) "Seriously, that was wild! I didn't
think grunge could get a dance party going, but you totally made it happen!"
STUDENT THREE: (To Old Person Three, her confidence soaring) "You were incredible!
Everyone was watching you! You truly owned that stage!"
(Everyone is complimenting each other's performances and their respective decades,
a genuine warmth filling the room.)
STUDENT FOUR: (Pulls out his phone, holding it up, grinning widely.) "Hey, did you guys
see Old Person Two's little shimmy during the funk breakdown? Looked like a spider trying
to escape a hot plate!"
(Everyone, including the old people, erupts into genuine, loud laughter. The room is
filled with the sound of pure joy and shared camaraderie.)
(As the laughter peaks, the STAGE GOES DARK abruptly and completely, plunging
everything into blackness. The laughter dies down, replaced by confused silence.)A
VOICE (from offstage, distinctly Student One's): "Yoh, Eskom!" (SCENE END)Act II, Scene 3: Let's Boogie!
(SCENE START)
(LIGHTS: The stage is in complete DARKNESS. The air is filled with murmurs of
confusion and fumbling sounds. The faint glow of phone flashlights barely pierces the
gloom.)
A VOICE (from offstage, distinctly Student One's): "Yoh, Eskom!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Voice, clear but from the darkness) "Seriously?! Just when I was
about to bust out my real moves!"
STUDENT THREE: (A little nervous laughter) "Classic! Couldn't be a proper party without a
little... unplanned interlude, right?"
OLD PERSON TWO: (Calmly, in the darkness) "Well, this certainly adds an element of
improvisation to the evening. Perhaps it's a test of our resilience.
"
STUDENT TWO: (A hint of frustration) "A test of our backup battery life, more like.
"
(A small FLICKERING LIGHT appears onstage – a phone flashlight, then others slowly
join in, casting dancing shadows. The students and old people are seen in the dim
light, looking dishevelled and bewildered.)
OLD PERSON THREE: (Fanning herself with a hand, still a little out of breath.) "Goodness
me, my heart nearly stopped! All that dancing, then poof! Though, I must admit, I still know
how to bust a move, even in the dark!"
OLD PERSON ONE: (Leaning against the snack table, taking deep breaths.) "You're telling
me! My knees feel like two-rand coins, but I could've gone another hour! My decade's beats
definitely outlasted the electricity!"
STUDENT FOUR: (Shaking his head, a wry grin.) "Dude, Old Person Four, your
performance was actually legit! Didn't think those old tapes still had that much fire.
"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (Grinning back, chest still heaving slightly.) "Told you, punk. Real
music never dies, even when the power does. And your mixing was... surprisingly not terrible
for a kid!"
STUDENT THREE: (To Old Person Three, her voice full of admiration.) "Old Person Three,
you were amazing! The way you moved... you really brought the 80s to life. I felt like I was in
a music video!"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Beaming, even in the dim light.) "Ah, darling, it's all about letting
the music flow through you. And your energy, my dear, it was infectious! You were quite the
MC!"STUDENT TWO: (Looking at Old Person Two, a genuine, soft smile.) "Old Person Two, I... I
never thought I'd say this, but your 70s jazz-funk really had a groove. I actually felt it. You
played with... passion.
"
OLD PERSON TWO: (A rare, warm smile spreading across his face.) "And you, Student
Two, you listened. Truly listened. That is the greatest gift a musician can possess.
"
(A FLASHLIGHT BEAM cuts sharply through the stage from the side entrance. NURSE
AGNES strides in, her face set in a grim line, holding a large, powerful flashlight. She
sweeps the beam across the room, illuminating the startled faces of the students and
old people.)
NURSE AGNES: (Voice sharp, a hint of steel) "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A
little midnight rendezvous, are we? Perhaps celebrating a jailbreak?"
(She moves purposefully to the main light switch and FLICKS IT ON. The STAGE
LIGHTS SNAP BACK ON to full, vibrant party mode, bathing the scene in colourful,
flashing illumination. The sudden brightness makes everyone blink.)
(The old people all turn, see Nurse Agnes, and a chorus of theatrical groans, shouts,
and gasps erupts.)
OLD PERSON ONE: "Oh no! The Warden is back!"
OLD PERSON THREE: "The Grim Reaper! I knew this party was too good to be true!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: "The Fun Killer! She's here to drag us back to that hellhole!"
NURSE AGNES: (Planting her hands firmly on her hips, her gaze piercing, addressing them
like unruly children.) "Alright, you lot! What in the name of sensible bedtimes do you think
you're doing?! Mr. Henderson! Mrs. Albright! Bernard! Esther! Malcolm! You are all supposed
to be safely tucked in, not... (She gestures vaguely at the party setting) ...recreating
Woodstock in a classroom!"
(The old people, previously so defiant, begin to shrink a little, becoming surprisingly
timid. The students look on, trying to stifle their laughter.)
OLD PERSON ONE: (Muttering, looking at his shoes.) "Sorry, Nurse. It's just... the music. It
was good.
"
OLD PERSON THREE: (Apologetically, wringing her hands.) "We just... we just wanted to
party, Nurse Agnes. It was so lovely to be out in the world again. Just for some music.
"
NURSE AGNES: (Pointing a finger at them, her voice rising.) "Music?! Music doesn't explain
how you missed your second round of medication! Do you know how much paperwork that is
for me?! And what about your blood pressure? Your joint supplements? This is not okay!
This is a serious dereliction of your, and my, duties!"
(She paces, lecturing them, listing off their missed medications and the various health
implications, her strictness unwavering.)NURSE AGNES: (Pauses mid-stride, takes a moment to scan the room again, her eyes
narrowing.) "Wait a minute. There's one missing. Where's Mr. Davidson? OLD PERSON
FIVE! I know you're here, Bernard! You can't hide from me! I tracked your electric hearing
aid! I can adjust the volume from my phone, you know!"
(From a shadowy corner of the stage, OLD PERSON FIVE and MR. EJ slowly,
sheepishly, emerge. Old Person Five has a mischievous grin, while Mr. EJ looks like a
caught schoolboy trying to appear innocent.)
(Upon seeing Mr. EJ, the STUDENTS all shout in unison, a mixture of surprise and
recognition.)
STUDENTS: "MR. EJ!"
MR. EJ: (Grinning, stepping forward, his eyes twinkling.) "Hello, my little musical
masterminds! Excellent timing, Nurse Agnes. I was just about to make my grand
re-entrance. And yes, I saw every single performance. And I must say... I am profoundly
impressed. My plan worked, perfectly.
"
STUDENT TWO: (Confused, frowning) "Your plan? What plan?"
MR. EJ: (He spreads his arms wide, encompassing the room and everyone in it.) "My plan to
awaken the true spirit of music within you! To show you that it's more than just notes, more
than just technique. It's passion. It's love. It's the unifying force that transcends generations
and even... retirement home curfews.
"
(He gestures to the interaction between the students and old people.)
MR. EJ: "And now that you've learned this profound lesson, now that you truly understand
the power of music... you now have the strength to be in my presence.
"
(Everyone in the room looks utterly confused, except for Old Person Five, who just
shakes his head, a fond smile on his face.)
STUDENT ONE: (Inquisitively) "The strength... to be in your presence?"
MR. EJ: (Nods, a dramatic flourish.) "Yep. In my presence!"
(With a sudden, theatrical flourish, MR. EJ RIPS OFF HIS COAT, tossing it aside to
reveal a dazzling, fully BEDAZZLED, SEQUINED, AND FEATHERED OUTFIT
underneath. It's unmistakably the iconic stage attire of a legendary performer.)
MR. EJ: (Voice booming, now truly in character, extending a hand to Old Person Five.)
"Bernard, my dear friend... take us back to the good old days! Let's show these young ones
how it's really done!"
(SOUND: The iconic, unmistakable opening chords of a classic, high-energy ELTON
JOHN SONG blast through the speakers. Mr. EJ, now truly ELTON JOHN, erupts into a
flamboyant, energetic PERFORMANCE, singing and dancing with incredible
showmanship. He might mimic playing a piano dramatically, spin, or engage theaudience. Old Person Five, now revealed to be
CHER, steps forward with a knowing
smile and joins in, singing harmonies and performing iconic, sassy dance moves
alongside Elton. The two legends are utterly magnetic, commanding the stage.)
(As the performance unfolds, a slow, dawning realization spreads across the faces of
the students and the other old people. Their jaws drop, their eyes widen. They
exchange incredulous glances.)
STUDENT TWO: (His voice a stunned whisper, eyes wide.) "Oh... oh my God... Mr. EJ is...
he's... ELTON JOHN!"
(Elton John finishes the song with a final, magnificent flourish with Cher. The
applause from the people on stage is deafening, a mixture of awe and pure joy.)
ELTON JOHN: (Taking a deep bow, beaming.) "Yep! The one and the only! Now that you've
learned the love of music, really felt its power... let's tear up this dance floor together!"
OLD PERSON FOUR: (His face alight, already moving.) "Oh, you don't have to tell me
twice, Elton!"
(Elton John, Cher, the four students, and the four remaining old people (Old Person
One, Two, Three, and Four) immediately get into FORMATION and launch into a
vibrant, joyous CAST DANCE. It's a mix of their individual styles, blending into a
cohesive, celebratory routine. A few of the background characters also join in, adding
to the joyous chaos.)
(In the background, NURSE AGNES, initially rigid with annoyance, is seen grumpily
tidying up. She picks up stray shawls, straightens chairs, and collects empty cups,
muttering to herself, ostensibly ignoring the dance. She remains stern, but her
movements suggest she's perhaps tapping her foot, almost imperceptibly.)
(During the height of the dance, OLD PERSON THREE (or another old person/student)
suddenly breaks from the formation, grabs NURSE AGNES by the arm, and playfully
but firmly PULLS HER INTO THE MIDDLE OF THE DANCE FLOOR. Everyone in the
crowd claps and cheers, encouraging her to join.)
(At first, Nurse Agnes is stiff, resistant, her face a mask of disapproval. But then,
almost imperceptibly, a toe taps. A shoulder wiggles. A tiny smile plays on her lips.
And then, as if a switch is flipped, she LOOSENS UP COMPLETELY, exploding into
incredibly fluid, powerful, and better dance moves than anyone else on stage. She
becomes a whirlwind of unexpected grace and rhythm, truly tearing up the dance
floor, shocking everyone.)
(The crowd erupts with even louder clapping and hyping her up, amazed by her
hidden talent. Nurse Agnes (Cher) continues her solo moment for a few exhilarating
seconds, utterly captivating.)
(Nurse Agnes then seamlessly rejoins the rest of the cast as they transition into the
final bits of their choreographed dance, ending in a spectacular, unified POSE.)(The CURTAINS BEGIN TO CLOSE slowly on the
tableau of the entire cast, frozen in
their triumphant pose, basking in the glow of music and connection.)
(After a brief moment of darkness, the CURTAINS REOPEN one last time to reveal the
ENTIRE CAST (Elton John, Cher, the four students, the four old people, and any
background characters) standing in a line across the stage, beaming. They take a
collective, grand BOW to thunderous applause.)
(THE END)