Peeps (The Musical)
Chica Boom is all excited. She's just got her feathers dyed.
Asked Jaye Duck how he liked them; said he did, but he lied.
Chica was the consummate spring chicken, as crazy as a loon,
a perfect match for her partner Boone, who'd be along soon.
Boone was a rabbit, in this musical trio, with chick and duck.
Easter was approaching, auditions announced, just their luck,
a handful showed interest; for those who would come around,
a bandstand was vacant, in a barn on the outskirts of town.
First to audition was a trio of sheep, to blow mariachi horns;
Chica gave a sour smile, mocking like she was chewing thorns.
As the sheep three moved along, from the rafters came a bat,
overshot runway (piano keys), Chica screamed! That was that.
Next to approach, in full grunt, with an antique auto harp,
a pig with pleasant disposition. Too bad his notes were sharp!
What followed was not common, and quite difficult to explain.
Donkey arrived, misplaced his harmonica, much to his disdain.
At this point, I suppose we should say, every vote was a no.
Boone, Jaye, Chica saw to it this was no dog and pony show.
"Open to All" auditions were a CYA process, merely a ruse.
When the process was put on proper, our band left no clues.
Today was different, as just before proceedings adjourned,
two more wannabes were coming down the road, we learned.
Vincent Vann Goat, with an upright bass, gave Chica the eye.
His partner unpacked drums, politely asked, "May we try?"
Bass and drum, jazz to blues, a frenzy ensued in the crowd.
This was more grass roots excitement than ought be allowed.
The trio was about to expand, adding two to become a quintet.
To turn either down now, would cause a commotion, no doubt.
A meet and greet followed, where the goat gave revelation,
that he was along for the ride. The drummer was the sensation.
Vincent acknowledged, there were times, but they would pass,
when he found his true calling, wallowing in the new grass.
When a goat gets high, there is no keeping him in time or key.
The straight and narrow was not a place Vincent cared to be.
But his partner, the drummer, the quiet one of the pair,
said he would really like to be included, if they didn't care.
When asked, he said he was clean, no bad habits, nothing like
Vincent. The goat butted him in jest, said, "Come on, Spike!"
Spike reared up on his back legs, and spouted a hideous hiss!
Vincent shook his head, and walked away, feigning a near miss.
Now if any of the barnyard four-legs or fowl could attest,
to seeing a hedge hog first hand, would surely have professed.
But truth be told, seeing Spike's reaction, putting on a show,
gave them appal, to the degree, no one dared respond, "No."
The quartet had a week to pick and choose and learn a new set.
With so much practice, this garage band is as good as it will get.
Chica Boom and Boone brought the vocals, from back to front.
She pecked keys. Boone played all the bass line one could want.
Jaye, a guitar wizard from the Panhandle, who handled demand;
when time to take a break, Jaye was there to "lend a hand."
(That was an inside joke Jaye brought on his very first date.)
As to how Spike would fit in, it would not require a long wait.
The longer the practice session, the better Spike kept time.
By Good Friday, the band had a perfect click, they were prime.
No practice or work on Good Friday, a day set aside to reflect.
Saturday, a brief unplugged run though, checking every aspect.
The Easter Festival was due to start at three, don't be late,
but this year, a hitch in the plans, weather did not cooperate.
High winds blew in from the West according to the weather vane.
All agreed to flee to the storm cellar. Don't break the chain.
Spike wandered, looking high and low for that ornery caprine.
He found him on a hillside near a cave, welcome site and scene.
Once inside, the high winds would pass soon with no ill effect.
Spike's concern now toward his band, whom he'd shown neglect.
The trio was with all the other festival goers, safe and sound.
Almost all the inhabitants were accounted for, to be found,
except for a secret set that lived in the big house on the hill,
where conditions were setting circumstances in line for a kill.
A high wind blew apart a weakened pane and out came the glass.
A bird cage atop a china cabinet, lost shroud at breeze's pass.
As the cover was lifted, two prize parakeets came into sight,
of house cat, who leaped, climbed and clawed with all his might.
The cat, to his ever lasting credit, made it to his destination,
toppling the rickety cage, which rolled, creating a new situation,
causing its door to open, allowing the birds to fly, though rusty.
As they flew out the window, one said, "My, this wind is gusty."
Having been caged for a while, and what with the humans hiding,
these parakeets were famished, and the sight of a feast abiding,
below, was a draw above all others, "Look at those seed a'ground!"
Down they flew to the fruit and grain and water they had found.
At this stage, we can only surmise; there was no one to witness.
How that single parakeet feather dislodged is anyone's guess.
Word came down from Jackson, days later, the birds found shelter.
High winds propelled them there, hurried, from the helter-skelter.
Back to the "here and now" in the "there and then" Spike is spied.
A crow flew over and false-claimed Spike ate a bird. The crow lied.
With the cellar door open, this was heard, even as Spike picnicked.
A closer examination found a feather in a bowl, and they panicked!
With any investigation, as to what a hedgehog eats, it is not fowl.
They eat worms, bugs, crawlers. There was no reason for the howl.
Within minutes, all the locals wearing scowls, were hurling scorn.
Chica looked Spike dead in the eyes, wishing he'd never been born.
Easter Festival cancelled; there would be no feast or show to play.
Spike gathered his belongings, went to the cave, then on his way.
He and Vincent did not stop until they passed three towns, or four.
Spike never realized what happened, or feel need to even the score.
Back on the homestead, Chica Boom and Boone settled down forever.
Duck Jaye heard about this thing called migration; sounded clever.
He took to the skies, Mexico bound, soon replaced by a grey goose.
That house cat is stuck on life number seven, never getting loose.
It was a shame about the music show and how it never came about.
It might have been the stuff of legend, how Spike came to help out.
Chick and Rabbit and Duck were quiet Easter Saturday and Sunday;
just a raccoon sounding a stolen harmonica; my, how he could play!
Michael Todd (2021)
(Thanks to Caitlan, Lottie, Apryl & Alba Leigh for guidance and inspiration.)