Heavenly Host Choir.
Written & Performed by Pauline Emery, Jenny Parks & Patti C
E: Choir rehearsal.
C: Monday evening.
E: Just like when we were down there.
C: Well. Not quite the same. We haven't got Ruth.
E: No, more's the pity. It's Gabriel.
C: SHH! Be careful. He doesn't like Gabriel. Got to be THE Angel Gabriel.
E: Is he a boy or a girl ?
C: Not sure. We all look the same in these white dresses.
E: I used to love wearing red & black when we were down there.
C: So did I. So dramatic !
E: So stylish. I feel as tho' I'm wearing my nightie.
C: Eh up. Who's this ?
(Third angel comes on below stage)
E: Hello down there. Are you looking for Cloud Nine ?
J: Yes. I've just died, ---sorry passed over. This bloke called Peter, he was by the gates, asked me if I'd been in a choir. When I said yes, he said report to cloud nine.
C: Hop up here. This is it.
J: Thanks. I'm trying to get the hang of this flying.
E: It can be tricky at first. I'm always getting my wings in a twist.
J: I used to do a lot of swimming so it's easy for me. (Action)
C: Be careful ! Don't fall off.
E: There's something familiar about you.
C: Hang on, it's Jenny from Cor Dewi Sant.
J: That's correct. Alto section, sometimes Tenor.
E: Do you remember us ? I'm Pauline from the Sops.
C: ---and I'm Patti from the Tenors.
J: Yes, I remember. You pushed up the daisies some time back.
E: I fell off a cliff while on a ramble.
C: I went to China again and got an even bigger ho in my din larky. That was the end for me.
J: Well, it's very nice to meet up again Pauline & Patti.
C: We're not called that now.
E: They give you a new name when you come up here. I'm Faith.
C: I'm Hope.
J: I see, then I must be Charity.
E: There's a lot of us in The Heavenly Host Choir; it's massive.
J: Do we always wear white ?
C: You must always keep your wings straight (Action)
E: -----and Gabriel doesn't like slipped halos, keep it in the middle. (Action)
C: White folders only; blacks a no no.
J: What sort of music do we sing ?
E: High sort of soaring things. A lot of Arrhhhhh.
C: Psalms. Maybe a bit of Palestrina or Bach if we're lucky.
E: Rehearsal every Monday.
J: Sounds familiar.
C: We have a short interval and you can glug down some Ambrosia.
J: Is Gabriel as nice as Ruth ?
C: + E: No !
E: He's much stricter. We have to be on our most angelic behaviour all the time.
C: Doesn't come naturally for us.
J: What about Michael of all Angels ? What does he do ?
E: Oh him. He's Gabriel's secretary. Like Sue Hallows.
C: Swoops about in floaty white muslin giving out stuff.
J: Any pianist ?
C: You mean like Heather ? No. We have Cherubs playing harps.
E: They are a blinkin' pest---flying around—crashing into each other.
C: They are so chubby. They can hardly take off !
E: I blame the Ambrosia. It's full of sugar.
C: They have separate rehearsals with Gabriel on Cloud 8. He calls them The Junior Heavenlies.
E: How is Cor Dewi Sant doing ?
C: Dare we ask------how many ?
J: At the last count--------------341 !
C: + E: Wow !!
J: Oh look down there ----on earth.
E: It's their rehearsal.
J: Same as up here---Monday evening.
C: I can see Ruth.
E: Who's looking after the triplets ?
C: What about Granny Christine ? Doesn't she do grandmotherly babysitting?
J: No. She's gone .
E: + C: Dead ?
J: No. She's been made an African Chief and is Queen of a quarter of Africa.
E: + C: Blimey !
E: I can see Dot and Jo.
C: Surely they must have turned up their toes by now .
E: They are older than us !
J: Dot is 146 and Jo is 145 and still singing.
C: Look at Elaine. She's got a few grey hairs.
E: How's the shop ?
J: When Patti pegged it, the shop extended sideways into her house and is now a mini-supermarket. Nobody goes to Tesco now.
C: Is Heather still the pianist ?
J: Yes, of course.
E: How many children has she ?
E: + C: Really !?
J; Matthew, Mark, Luke, John----
E: + C: and ?
J: Mary and Joseph. Is there a pianist for The Heavenly Host Choir ?
C: No unfortunately. Angels don't do pianos. Just harps.
E: Mostly Welsh people who passed over and brought their harps to this party in heaven.
C: + J: Ha ha Very funny.
C: Shall we tell her about the Hunting Horns ?
E: Suppose we'd better. ( Gets horns) We are all expected to learn to blow these.
J: It's going to take me ages to master this.
C: All that blowing out candle stuff we did with Ruth will help.
J: Yep. It certainly built up our lung capacity.
C: Is Anne still the Treasurer ?
J: Yes. You wouldn't recognise her tho'.
E: Why ?
J: She's got green hair now. Sort of Lime Green.
C: + E: Nice.
J: She thought she might go purple next.
C: Feel free to drop a feather every so often.
J; What's that all about ?
E: Folk down there like to see the odd feather floating down. Makes them think we're looking after them.
C: Trouble is---your wings get bald.
E: Takes ages to grow new ones. Always eat your Manna and drink the Ambrosia.
C: ---and Hey Presto! More feathers !
J: What happens after rehearsal. Don't suppose there's any pubs up here ?
E: No. Sad.
C: Dave Willis pegged it a year ago and he's trying to open a pub on Cloud 6.
E: Sue, his wife, is the barmaid with a low cut angel's nightie.
C: No beer.
J: Don't tell me.
E: Ambrosia-----in quarter pints. He's got a Micro-Ambrosia Brewery.
C: Dave's going to distill some of the Ambrosia—make something a bit stronger.
He's going to call it 'The Holy Spirit'.
J: Do we have concerts ?
E: Yes. Mainly at Christmas.
C: Unless you are called on to do tree duty.
J: What's that ?
C: You shrink yourself, go down there and perch on a Christmas Tree for a few weeks.
E: It's incredibly boring and your legs ache a lot.
J: Do you remember 'The Three Tavern Walk ' ?
C: The Hills Are Alive !! I loved it.
J: A good walk followed by a good sing-----and a half of bitter.
E: There's something similar up here. We fly around the clouds. There's nine if them.
C: On each one, we blow our horns and sing.
E: Other groups take part----'The Cherubs' 'The Seraphins' ' The Vicar's Quartet'.
C: We all end up on Cloud Nine and do a joint session. Lots of fun.
J: Any warm ups before the event like we did down there ?
C: Yes. We assemble on Cloud 1 and A. G. (Angel Gabriel ) makes us wave our wings –get them warmed up.
E: Then we massage the quills of the angels next to us.
J: Does everyone fly the full nine clouds ?
E: The lazy ones roll along the top—like a bouncy castle.
C: Nearly rehearsal time. (Looks at watch)
J: Do we have chairs ?
E: No. We hover, using our wings.
C: In a semi-circle.
J: Why have I got to wear this on my head ?
E: The halo ?
C: Gives off light.
E: Like a head torch.
J: Are there any men in the choir /
C: Errr. We think so.
E: It's difficult to tell 'cos we're all wearing theses dresses.
J: Are we allowed to jig about and do jazz hands ?
E: Certainly not ! Angels don't do that sort of thing.
C: We can sway a little. Put our hands together. Hover. That's about it.
J: Is there a National Anthem up here like 'Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau'?
E: Sure is. At the end of our concerts , we sing 'Jerusalem'.
J: --and did those feet, sorry wings. Britain always wanted that as its Anthem.
C: Well too bad. We've got it.
J: Are we singing in English ? What about Welsh?
E: We have to sing in every language on Earth.
C: Those Zulu songs Ruth taught us come in handy.
E: We mainly stick to Latin---makes things easier.
C: It's Gabriel's favourite language; that and Greek. He is a bit old-fashioned.
E: He's got another job you know.
J: What do you mean ?
E: As well as organising our choir, he goes above the clouds.
C: To a place called Nirvana.
J: What does he do there ?
C: He's an organiser for The Saints Opera Company.
J: Sounds interesting.
E: They do shows. Re-enacting stuff out of the bible.
J: What sort of shows ?
C: Singy-songy sort of shows. Travel all over the heavens.
E: Angels flock to see them.
C: (Looks at watch) OK Angels. Rehearsals about to begin.
E: Check wings. Adjust halos. White folders at the ready.
C: Don't forget your horn------and off we go.
E: Hang on.
J: Why ?
E: Those people down there in Eryrys.
C: Can't see them.
E: There !
C: Oh yes. They are having a party—not their normal rehearsal.
J: You know who they are don't you ?
E: Err ? Oh yes. It's Cor Dewi Sant.
All: Our old choir.
C: Let's send them a signal.
E: You mean ----?
C: Yes, Pluck out a few feathers.
All: Owch owch !!
E: Throw them down. A message from us angels.
J: Then they'll know we're looking out for them.
C: One Two Three. (throw )
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