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Five mourners, 1, 3 and 5 male, 2 and 4 female, stand at the beginning of a receiving line of three women ( Petrolia Tertia Arcane, . Sapphira Secunda Arcane-Voxo, Aurelia Prima Arcane-Trellis, the 3rd, 2nd and 1st wife respectively of the deceased, Adam Tarrant Arcane).

1st Mourner taps glass, which sets off an echoing ring.
                                                

His taste in stemware couldn't be faulted.

Moves along the line. Ad-libbed, inaudible greetings exchanged over handshakes with each in turn.


I'm pretty sure it was his wife who was responsible.

Moves among etc.


Seems more the thing you'd expect of a wife's expertise.

Moves among etc.


Which one? There's a forty year spread, first to last.


Not as much spread as that; barely thirty five.


Even so. Not sure glassware that old would be safe to handle.

Moves among etc.


'Fraid it might explode? Anyway quite the spread.

Echo of ring from glass dies out.


How can you say a thing like that at a time like this? My husband's not even cold in the ground.


Well, I . . . suppose . . . I can see where . . . but surely just about anything we say would be trivial in the face of . . .


I know my husband wasn't universally loved, even among the insincere mourners and exes collected here. I'll even acknowledge he had character faults, redeemed by his considerable virtues.


Faults, yes. She was one of them


You were too, and somewhat previous.


Virtues you'd have to search for pretty minutely.


You two aren't helping. My husband


Mine too


Once upon a time.


He was loved as well as despised and feared anyway how do you succeed in the cutthroat world of serious money and power if you don't strike cringing terror into the hearts of those who might oppose you?  I loved him, whatever the gutter press and that interview I didn't even know was being taped might seem to imply. I'm certainly not glad he's dead.


Oh. That's what you thought I said.


He said "Quite the spread," dear.


He was referring to the buffet.

Glares, recollecting.

Better have been. I was responsible for the catering by the way.


O! Well! Pardon me to pieces then. I misheard. I've had so little sleep since the dreadful night I sat by his bed 'til his last dying breath.


All of us. Our husbands were there.


Her husband certainly was, and isn't any longer. I wonder who she's got her eyes on next?


But your husbands aren't here at the reception?


They were at the funeral to pay their last respects.


Make sure he didn't rise out of his coffin more likely.


My husband never broke bread with him except in councils of war-brief truces while they conspired against rivals mostly.


My husband mostly just ignored the obstacles my ex threw in the way of his architectural career.


Be worth having him back just to see their faces if he suddenly rears up in his coffin.


Neither thought it proper to eat up his food on such an august and final occasion.


Not if he didn't sink right back in half a minute at most.

Everyone gathered in an informal circle now, the conversation no more in whispers.


A wizard at turning a personal profit out of bankruptcies-wouldn't surprise me if he entertained us with a little corpse dancing.


You're terrible.


It isn't as if we didn't all see it coming.


From a far distance and with great eagerness I hear.


He didn't die of a wasting disease or a chronic condition he died in a car crash! How can you say we all saw that coming?


He was a notoriously bad driver.


Thought the road belonged to him.


Didn't maintain it very well if it did.


Did anyone else die in the pile up?


Two, and one paralyzed for life.



I'll be fighting those lawsuits with every resource at my command. It's what he'd have wanted.


You'd get better publicity with a generous settlement.


Reasonably generous. You can't make catastrophes too profitable or everyone will want one. (Whispers to 4th mourner.) Ask her about the scissors.


Scissors what are you talking about scissors? My cuticle scissors you mean? Of course I carry a pair of those, nothing sinister about that, who knows when a flap of skin will turn up next to a fingernail? What are you suggesting, scissors heavy and sharp enough to cut the cord of human fate? How could you even carry that in a purse, it would rip right through the sturdiest leather unless you wrapped it in a special astatic silk.


I had an affair with him once.


Me? Twice, at widely disparate times. I'm not sure he even remembered me the second time.


Don't tell my husband. (Indicating Mourner 5.)


Or mine. (Indicates Mourner 1.)


We girls have to stick together.


Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Petrolia
Happy birthday to you.


Well! Ironic.


Celebrating birth and death in adjoining rooms.


Where's the birthday girl now?
Where's the birthday girl now?
Where's the birthday girl Petrolia?


Oh my God! Sorry everybody. (Rushes off right.)


There's the birthday girl now.


Quite a coincidence.


They do weddings too. My fiancée and I will be here in early summer.


If she'd been a little speedier courting, that would have been quite the trifecta.


And none of us were invited.


You're still more than welcome here.


Hours to come. Our third hostess will even be back eventually.


Probably the worse for birthday cake and champagne.


So it's recommended you keep up.


Excellent wines, liquors and beers. Not to mention the buffet.


Quite the spread.


Yes. We all are.


All glad. Some show it more than others.


Bad taste really.

1st mourner once again pings glass with finger. BLACKOUT to resounding fine tuned echo.