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The Sopranos (and the Tenor)


Lights up.

MOB BOSS is standing in front of GOON ONE and GOON TWO.

Enter TENOR.

BOSS: You're late.
TENOR: Oh, sorry. This isn't really my part of town.
BOSS: Did you come alone?
TENOR: Uh...I guess.
BOSS: Excellent. I hear you're good at what you do.
TENOR: Well, I guess I'm pretty good, yes...
BOSS: Alright. Let's talk business. We need this to be a quick job. In and out. <Makes neck slicing gesture>
TENOR: Oh, okay. So like, two hours-ish?
BOSS: ...Two hours?!
TENOR: Well yeah. Were you thinking less?
TENOR: Like how much?
TENOR: What?!
BOSS: I thought when I hired one of the Sopranos I could rely on him to know what he was doing.
TENOR: Oh, I'm actually a Tenor...

GOONS look at each other in realisation and panic. BOSS slowly approaches GOONS with intimidation.

BOSS: ...Do we know the Tenors?
GOON ONE: Huh? Oh. Uh, boss. A tenor is actually a-
BOSS: So you're a Tenor, huh?
TENOR: Yeah, we're just the same but deeper.
BOSS: Better connected, huh?
TENOR: No, lower down.
BOSS: In the crime families?
TENOR: No, in pitch...
BOSS: What did you call me!?
GOON ONE: No. You see, Boss, a tenor is literally a-
BOSS: Shut up!
GOON TWO: No, Boss, there's just been a simple mix-up with the-
BOSS: Don't make me come in there!
GOON TWO: ...But we're in the same-
BOSS: Shut up!

BOSS starts circling TENOR.

BOSS: So what's your forte, Mr. Tenor? Co-ordination? Flawless execution?
TENOR: <slightly scared> Uh...No?
BOSS: What is it then?
TENOR: ...Being loud?
BOSS: ...Well that's a pretty big disadvantage. This whole thing is meant to be completely silent.
TENOR: ...um...how?
BOSS: ...oh, wait...

BOSS looks at GOONS who give him a condescending thumbs-up.


SOPRANO: Somebody call for a Soprano to fix up a job?
BOSS: Oh, thank God. Finally, a professional.
SOPRANO: Who the hell's this guy?
BOSS: Forget it. A mistake. What have you got for me?
SOPRANO: Well...

SOPRANO adopts a performance stance and looks of deeply into the distance as Schubert's 'Ave Maria' begins to play.

TENOR: ...Look, can I leave now?/Oh this is going to be great!
BOSS: Just get out. Get out, get out, get out. Out! <Ushers him off stage> As for you...!

The song has almost arrived at the part where the singing of "Ave Maria..." begins. 

SOPRANO opens his mouth to sing but quickly pulls out a gun and shoots BOSS in the foot.

BOSS: ARGH! <rolls on the floor in pain> ...You're hired.

Lights down.

NEW ALTERNATIVE (Edited 2/9/2012 by Allister Haire)

A Mob Boss is at his desk with two goons behind him. A third goon enters holding JERRY by the arm and pushes him into the centre of the room.

MOB BOSS: Jerry, my boy! What a pleasant surprise!

*Jerry goes to speak in anger but is interrupted*

MOB BOSS: Yeah I know, I know. I don't like formalities like this either. Listen Jerry, we need to have a chat.
JERRY: *Has a ridiculously high pitched voice, perhaps even an exaggerated australian accent* About what?

*Mob Boss and all three goons recoil in response to the high pitch and exchange awkward looks*

JERRY: Seriously, what's the problem?
MOB BOSS: Uhh...Yeah, I mean...Jerry, you're one of our best...I mean, I've never seen anyone who fixes up jobs as cleanly as you do, but...
JERRY: You better remember it. No one's as silent or deadly as Jerry.
MOB BOSS: *trying to be polite* Um, yeah, well done with that...Look, do you feel there's any, kind of, let's say, 'characteristic' of yours that might slightly diminish the fear we try to strike into the hearts of our victims?
JERRY: ...Ooh I know what this is about. Come on guys, you know you can always be honest with Jerry about his 'peculiarities'.

*they all laugh with a sigh of relief*

JERRY: I mean, chronic diarrhoea is just one of those things!
MOB BOSS: Okay that's very much NOT what this is about.
JERRY: First it's just a bit of a stomach ache in the mornings and then...
MOB BOSS: Jerry, please stop talking about diarrhoea...
JERRY: And before you know it...

*Goon 3 who up until this point was composed, loses his temper violently*


MOB BOSS: Alright I'm going to be honest here Jerry. *slowly* We feel you've severely misunderstood the context in which we use the expression 'being a Soprano'.
JERRY: What? Jerry knows what it means to be a Soprano! Jerry has worked his way up for years to live up to the name 'Soprano'!
MOB BOSS: That's just it Jerry! You trained for years, as a CHORISTER! 
JERRY: The best in the country!
MOB BOSS: No. No no no. Jerry, listen. You don't have to sing to be a criminal. It's JUST the family's surname. You've trained unnecessarily hard and preserved your pre-pubescent vocal range for decades longer than was thought to be natural in the human male. YOU WERE IN THE ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA LAST YEAR, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! I CAN'T LISTEN TO IT ANY MORE JERRY, I CAN'T LISTEN TO IT.
JERRY: Jerry knows what will cheer you up.
MOB BOSS: What?...No wait. No - NO! -

*The introduction to Ave Maria begins to play*

*Lights down as very audible screams of panic are heard from the goons and the mob boss*



CONTACT: Well, this isn't really my part of town.
MOB BOSS: Did you come alone?
CONTACT: Do you see anyone else?
MOB BOSS: Shut up. I hear you're good at what you do.
CONTACT: One of the best.
MOB BOSS: Good. We need this to be a quick job, in-and-out.
CONTACT: So a 40 minute routine?
MOB BOSS: 40 minutes? What!? My Nona could do it faster than that. Sounds like you don't even deserve the the name Soprano.
CONTACT: Actually, I'm a Tenor.
MOB BOSS: I haven't heard of the Tenors.
CONTACT: Think deeper.
MOB BOSS: Better connected?
CONTACT: No, we're lower down.
MOB BOSS: In the crime families?
CONTACT: No, in pitch.

<Awkward stare>

MOB BOSS: Look, can you see this contract through or not?
CONTACT: It's not like it's my first gig.
MOB BOSS: I'm trusting you to take care of this. This outfits been needing a change.
CONTACT: <Glancing down at his clothes> I'll take care of it.
MOB BOSS: (slightly relieved) Good. So what's your forte? Co-ordination? Flawless execution?
CONTACT: Well, no.
MOB BOSS: Well then what is it?
CONTACT: ... being loud.
MOB BOSS: What!? This is meant to be a silent hit.
CONTACT: What? <pauses> ...How??

<A quicker awkward stare>

MOB BOSS: I'm sick of this. <hands gun to 'B'> Get it done.<exists stage>

CONTACT:<holding gun clumsily> I am going to kill my agent.

(Bold is optional to ending)

MOB BOSS-What?! This is meant to be a silent hit!
CONTACT-I've never even had a regular hit!

<Cops burst in>


<contact leaps to the ground>
<Mob boss reaches for violin case>

CONTACT-That's mine 
MOB BOSS-Give it here
<Theres a bit of back and forth tugging before the MOB BOSS finally seizes it>

<MOB BOSS takes aim at the cops>

MOB BOSS-Take this you pigs!

<Flips open case to reveal a violin>

<MOB BOSS stares at VIOLIN then at CONTACT, then at VIOLIN, then at CONTACT, then realises>

MOB BOSS-OH FU<hard lights down>