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:         Yep.

E:         Boring.

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 ?

C:         Hymns.

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 ?

J:          Fine.

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 ?

J:          Iwan.

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 ?

J:         6.

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.

E:         Just.............

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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