| abstract | - Inside the auditorium, as Charlie Brown entered, Schroeder was playing lively jazz music on a toy piano, with Pig Pen accompanying him on a very dirty guitar, and the same kids who were skating at the pond were now dancing wildly to the music. "ALL RIGHT," Lucy shouted, "Quiet, everybody. Our director will be here any minute and we'll start rehearsal." "Director?" the brown-haired girl exclaimed. "What director?" "Charlie Brown!" Lucy responded. "Oh, no! Patty, we're doomed," Violet sighed. "This'll be the worst Christmas play ever," Patty said grumpily. "Here he comes!" Lucy exclaimed, cutting her off. "Attention everyone! Here is our new director!" The kids clapped, seemingly enthusiastically, but one "Boo" penetrated the noise. The crowd parted, and the "Boo" turned out to be from Snoopy. "Man's best friend," Charlie Brown said sarcastically, throwing his coat off. Snoopy looked abashed. "Well," Charlie Brown began, taking a stand by the director's chair, "it's real good to see you all here. As you know, we are going to put on a Christmas play. Due to the shortage of time, we'll get right down to work. One of the first things to ensure a good performance is to pay strict attention to the director. I'll keep my directions simple." He began gesturing to ensure his point. "If I point to the right, it means focus attention stage right, and the same with stage left. If I make a slashing motion across my throat, it means cut the scene short. If I spread my hands apart, it means slow down. It's the spirit of the actors that counts; the interest they show in their director. Am I right? I said, am I right?" But the group wasn't listening. The music had started up again, and they were all dancing. "I call this 'Linus and Lucy', " Schroeder declared. "STOP THE MUSIC!" Charlie Brown shouted. Then, more calmly through a megaphone, "All right now, we're going to do this play, and we're going to do it right. Lucy, get those costumes and scripts and pass 'em out. Now, the script girl will be handing out your parts." "Frieda," Lucy said to a red-haired girl with hair in spirals, "you're the innkeeper's wife." "Do innkeeper's wives have naturally curly hair?" Frieda said, bouncing one of her curls. "Pig-Pen," Lucy continued, "You're the innkeeper." "In spite of my outward appearance," Pig-Pen said nobly, "I shall try to run a neat inn." "Sheremy," Lucy said to a short, black-haired boy, "you're a shepherd." "Every Christmas it's the same," Sheremy complained. "I always end up playing a shepherd." "Snoopy," Lucy said, "You'll have to be all the animals in our play. Can you be a sheep?" "Baaa," Snoopy bleated. "How 'bout a cow?" "Mooooo." "How 'bout a penguin?" Snoopy pinned his arms to his sides and walked around, making clicking sounds with his feet. "Yes, you're even a good penguin." Snoopy growled, and jumped on top of Lucy's head. Lucy looked up at him angrily. "NO, NO, NO!" she shouted, as Snoopy fell off her head, and began imitating her. "LISTEN, all of you. You've got to take direction. You've got to have discipline! You've gotta have respect for your director!" With that, she turned around, and found Snoopy still imitating her. "I oughta slug you!" she growled. She swiped at Snoopy, but missed, and Snoopy licked her cheek. "AGH! I'VE BEEN KISSED BY A DOG!" Lucy shouted. "I HAVE DOG GERMS! Get hot water! Get some disinfectant! Get some iodine!" "Bleaahhh," Snoopy cried. "AGH," Lucy bellowed, running past Charlie Brown. "All right, all right, script girl, continue with the scripts," Charlie Brown shouted angrily. Lucy looked back and glared at Snoopy while approaching her next victim. "Linus," she said grumpily, "you've got to get rid of that stupid blanket." She handed him a script and a costume. "And here, memorize these lines." "I can't memorize these lines," Linus cried, looking at the script. "This is ridiculous." "Memorize it," Lucy said, ignoring her brother, "and be ready to recite when your cue comes." "I can't memorize something like this so quickly. Why should I be put through such agony? Give me one good reason why I should memorize this." "I'll give you five good reasons," Lucy snarled. She began making a fist, one finger at a time. "One, two, three, four, FIVE." "Those are good reasons," Linus stammered. "Christmas is not only getting too commercial, it's getting too dangerous." "And get rid of that stupid blanket!" Lucy shot at him. "What's a Christmas shepherd gonna look like holding a stupid blanket like that?" "Well, this is one Christmas shepherd that's going to keep his trusty blanket with him," Linus replied, draping the blanket over his head as Lucy's fist teetered dangerously toward his nose. "See? You wouldn't hurt an innocent shepherd, would you?" He smiled as Lucy headed over to Charlie Brown, who was trying very hard to hold back his temper. "All right, Mr. Director," Lucy called. "The cast is set. Take over." "All right," Charlie Brown replied. Then, to the whole cast, "Let's have it quiet. Places, everybody. Schroeder, set the mood for the first scene." Schroeder began playing a lively jazz beat, which set the kids off dancing again. "CUT! CUT! No, no, no!" Charlie Brown yelled. He walked over to Frieda and Pig-Pen, saying, "Look, let's rehearse the scene at the inn. Frieda, you — " "This can't go on," Frieda interrupted, holding a mirror in front of her to check her hairstyle. "There's too much dust. It's taking the curl out of my naturally curly hair." "Don't think of it as dust," Charlie Brown suggested. "Think of it as maybe the soil of some great, past civilization. Maybe the soil of ancient Babylon. It staggers the imagination. You may be carrying soil that was tread on by Solomon. Or even Nebuchadnezzar." "Sort of makes you want to treat me with more respect, doesn't it?" Pig-Pen said proudly. "You're an absolute mess," Frieda complained, handing the mirror to Pig-Pen. "Just look at yourself." Pig-Pen looked into the mirror and smiled. "On the contrary, I didn't think I looked that good." Charlie Brown sighed and walked over to Linus. "Sally, come here," he called. "What do you want her for?" Linus asked, having to take his thumb out of his mouth to speak. "She's going to be your wife." "Good grief." Sally clapped her hands gleefully. Thoughts of love danced in her head. "Isn't he the cutest thing? He has the nicest sense of humor." Linus covered his head with his blanket at walked away. Sally picked up the part that was dragging on the ground and followed him gleefully. "Lunch break. Lunch break." Lucy called as Charlie Brown approached her. "LUNCH break?" Charlie Brown asked. He turned around and saw Snoopy come back into the auditorium with his supper dish. He began kicking it and playing with it, showing off. "All right now," Charlie Brown said, stopping the spinning supper dish. "There's no time for foolishness; we've got to get on with our play." "That's right," Lucy suddenly said. "What about my part? What about the Christmas Queen? Are you going to let all this beauty go to waste? You do think I'm beautiful, don't you, Charlie Brown?" She paused for two seconds, in which Charlie Brown looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything. "You didn't answer right away," Lucy cried suddenly. "You had to think about it first, didn't you? If you really had thought I was beautiful, you would've spoken right up. I know when I've been insulted. I know when I've been insulted!" she exclaimed, storming off in a huff. "Good grief," Charlie Brown said to himself. He picked up the megaphone. "All right, let's take it from the top again. Places ... action." Schroeder began playing the jazzy beat again, and Lucy (who had calmed down by now) began snapping her fingers to the tune. "Charlie Brown, isn't it a great play?" Charlie Brown threw the megaphone to the ground. It made a metallic honking sound. "THAT DOES IT. Now, look. If we're ever going to get this play off the ground, you've got to have some cooperation." This time is was his turn to storm off. "What's the matter, Charlie Brown?" Lucy asked, following him. "Don't you think it's great?" "It's all wrong," Charlie Brown replied. "Look, Charlie. Let's face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's run by a big eastern syndicate, you know."
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