Chapter Text
“Overture" – Orchestra
"Gingham and Yarn" – Company
RAGS, BUTTONS, AND GINGHAM AND YARN
TO MEND A HEART THAT’S BROKE IN TWO
THE BITS AND PIECES OF WONDER AND CHARM
TO TURN A GREY SKY INTO BLUE
FOR HEARTS NEED MENDING
THEY ALWAYS DO
AND IF YOU LISTEN
WE'LL TELL A STORY JUST FOR YOU
ABOUT SOME
RAGS, BUTTONS, AND GINGHAM AND YARN
WITH SILVER THE MOON TO LIGHT THE WAY
RAGS, BUTTONS, AND GINGHAM AND YARN
AND THE SHADOWS FLY AWAY~
♡~ We open our story in the home of Pomni Gruelle, a young girl ,age 9 who lies in bed, illness taking over her body.
Right next to her bedside is her father, Kaufmo Gruelle, Who's sitting on a wooden rocking chair with something of the sort adorning a head full of red yarn locs resting upon his knee while downing a bottle of whiskey; the two are accompanied by a group of 3 ditzy doctors hovering over Pomni trying to ‘cure her,’ of her illness.
”Poppa!....Poppa!” The little girl frantically called out, “What is it, Pomni chick?” Her father answered back, “Don’t open that door, Poppa! No…No, don't open that door ....” Pomni weakly gasped, pausing to catch her breath between her sentences.
“She’s delirious. Poor child.” The 1st of the doctors decided, “So, a fever?” Kaufmo inquired. “Chills!” the shortest of the 2 other physicians exclaimed.
“Strange, she has no temperature?” Echoes the third of the group. “No temperature! A hundred and nine?!” Fires off the 1st yet again.
“Jeez, that's high!” Kaufmo exclaimed, “Fatal.” The 2nd deadpanned, “Nonsense, my comrade. Seventy-three.” Said the 3rd, gently disagreeing with the 1st, “Hey, that's low!” Mr. Gruelle hoped this meant her temperature would soon be normal again.
“Ninety-eight point six.” Said the 2nd “Normal! Normal!” This new information whisked away some of Gruelle’s recovery worries as he got up to tuck in his daughter, “ Normal, but Fatal. Eventually.” (Seriously, what was with this guy and his obsession over labeling things as Fatal?!)
“She needs sleep. Did she take my medicine?” “Did she take my medicine? “ “What about mine?” The three spoke over each other like a group of unruly toddlers. “She took all your medicines, and she can't sleep! Give the three of you my last nickel, and even your lousy thermometers don't agree! Kaufmo stated his temper with them rising, getting their attention.
“Wait, this isn't my thermometer!” proclaimed 1. “Mine is yours!” Said the 2nd, and to add to the bandwagon of buffoonery, “And yours is mine!” Said the 3rd, “DOCTORS, WHAT KIND OF QUACKS ARE YOU!?”
Kaufmo erupted, getting fed up with their atrocious assessments and claims about what was wrong with Pomni. As they continued to have their yelling match, Pomni’s eyes began to grow heavy with sleep.
However, she did not know her dreams would be less than pleasant that night. In her dream, the same doctors from earlier now wear clown wigs with their regular white doctor's coats. Tugging the poor girl every which way as if it would make their many diagnoses plausible.
"Diagnosis" – Doctors
[DOCTOR 2]
WE FEAR THERE'S BROMHIDROSIS PHOBIA
[DOCTOR 3]
WHICH MEANS THAT THERE'S A LOBE O' YA POOR BRAIN
[DOCTOR 1]
WHICH ISN'T WORKING REALLY RIGHT
[DOCTOR 3]
COMPOUND PNEUMOCONIOSIS
[DOCTOR 2]
LEADS TO ONLY ONE PROGNOSIS
[DOCTOR 1]
THAT SUPPOSES YOU COULD LAST 'TIL
[ALL DOCTORS]
TUESDAY NIGHT
[DOCTOR 3]
SO WE ADDRESS THE SITUATION
[DOCTOR 1]
WITH A GRAVE DELIBERATION
[DOCTOR 2]
AS PHYSICIANS, NOT MAGICIANS WHO YOU SEEK
[DOCTOR 1]
A CASE OF THROMBOCYTOPENIA AT THIS STAGE CAN ONLY MEAN YA
[DOCTOR 3]
GOT NO PADDLE
[ALL DOCTORS]
AND YOU'RE REALLY UP THE CREEK
BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK, SICK, SICK
AND YOU AIN'T GETTIN' BETTER QUICK, QUICK, QUICK
WE WOULD DO SOMETHING REALLY GOOD
[DOCTOR 1]
IF WE COULD
[DOCTOR 3]
BUT WE CAN'T
[DOCTOR 2]
AND WE WON'T
[DOCTOR 3]
SO WE'LL KEEP RIGHT ON CONSULTING
[DOCTOR 1]
PLEASE DON'T THINK THAT WE'RE INSULTING
[ALL DOCTORS]
BUT YOU'RE ILL, ILL, ILL
AND BOY, FOR US IS THAT A THRILL, THRILL, THRILL
WE'D LIKE TO HELP YA
BUT YOUR CASE IS COMPLICATED
AND WE KNOW WHEN SOMETHING'S FATED
SO RELAX, ENJOY, AND PLEASE STOP ASKING WHY
BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK, SICK, SICK
AND WE THINK YOU'RE GONNA DIE
(instrumental)
[DOCTOR 3]
A CASE OF HYDRO ADENOSIS
[DOCTOR 1]
THAT'S OUR MAJOR DIAGNOSIS
[DOCTOR 2]
AND HOW CLOSE IS YOUR DEMISE, WE CAN NOT TELL
[DOCTOR 3]
BUT THIS RESULTS IN MELANCHOLIA
[DOCTOR 1]
AND AS WE ALREADY TOLD' YA
[DOCTOR 2]
AS A WHOLE, YOU'RE REALLY DOING NOT SO WELL
[DOCTOR 3]
YOU'VE GOT A BAD COXSACKIE VIRUS
[DOCTOR 1]
THAT HAS NOW BEGUN TO TIRE US
[DOCTOR 2]
AND WE'VE DONE ABOUT AS MUCH AS WE CAN DO!
[DOCTOR 3]
IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOUR WISHING'
[DOCTOR 1]
GO AND CALL A GOOD MORTICIAN
[DOCTOR 2]
'CAUSE YOU'RE FADIN' FAST
[ALL DOCTORS]
AND YOU AIN'T PULLING' THROUGH
BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK, SICK, SICK
[ALL DOCTORS]
YOUR FUTURE ISN'T WORTH A LICK, LICK, LICK
[ALL DOCTORS]
AS MASTER SURGEONS WE CONFESS YOU'RE A MESS
AND WE'D LIKE TO EXPRESS
OUR CONDOLENCE TO YOUR FATHER
GAD, IT REALLY IS A BOTHER
THAT YOU'RE ILL, ILL, ILL
[ALL DOCTORS]
AND WAIT UNTIL YOU GET THE BILL, BILL, BILL
[ALL DOCTORS]
WE KNOW YOU'RE SINKING' AND ALTHOUGH WE'RE GLAD WE MET YA
THAT OL' REAPER'S GONNA GET YA
SO WE'LL BID ADIEU AND WAVE TA-TA, GOODBYE
BECAUSE YOU'RE SICK, SICK, SICK
AND WE KNOW YOU'RE GONNA DIE!
MM
♡~ Soon after the doctors had left and Pomni was still in her nightmare-induced sleep, Mr.Gruelle couldn't help but notice his daughter tossing and turning in her bed.
It filled his heart with so much pain and hurt seeing her in such a state, she had gotten sick before but nothing ever as serious as this "Normal, but Fatal. Eventually.” one of the physicians had said, much as he didn't want to believe it, her illness being fatal could be a very likely possibility.
However, he was not going to take this as a sign to give up all hope. After all, that girl was the only thing he has left of her mother, so letting her rot in bed and die was not an option. (Hell it was NEVER an option.)
"Pomni chick you gotta get up, it's time for your medicine.” he spoke in a hushed tone, gently shaking her awake making her rise with a start “ Eww I hate that stuff it tastes gross!” she responded with a groan “I know and I hate that I have to give it to you! But besides sleep, it’s the only thing those doctors said that made sense for you to feel better.”
screwing the cap off of the medicine vial and pouring the slime-like liquid (If you can even call it that.) on a spoon and giving it to Pomni to drink, suturing in disgust after downing it all.” Poor chick Pomni. I haven't done right by you--” Mr.Gruelle said, running a hand down his face.
“I can't sleep, Poppa,” his daughter stated. “I know, how do you feel?” her father asked. “All funny. My head is warm, but my heart is cold.” “Same here, chick...” Kaufmo responded, “Poppa, is it true what those doctors had said? That I won’t last till Tuesday night?” His daughter had asked, which was cornering, to say the least; after all, she's only 9; she shouldn't have to ask her father (Or anyone for that matter…)
if she’s going to die in the next couple of days or not. “And I keep hearing Tweety tell her to stop Poppa.” she wailed “Tweety. Well- Tweety died and went to heaven honey. She's singing in the Methodist choir up there.” he said trying to take her mind off the now deceased yellow canary” Is that why Red Fang ate her up?” Pomni inquired, “ Red Fang ate her up because he was a rotten little dog, I'm glad he choked.” Her father deadpanned about the mischievous (or rather devious) dog who once was.
"Heaven. Will Mommy be in heaven?” Pomni dazed off “Mommy!…yes, yes, yes, I'm sure she will.” Mr Gruelle croaked, “Then that's where I'll go!” His daughter announced, “A cockeyed night, moons coming up over the Hudson, I'll believe anything.” he bellowed, “What's cockeyed?” Mr Gruelle’s question-filled daughter asked yet again. (Wow, this kid sure has a lot of questions.
It's like she’s trying to squeeze every ounce of curiosity out of life. But honestly, she's doing the utmost despite dying soon. Okay, maybe that was too harsh…Anyways,!)
After a moment, the conversation started up again. “Listen, I don't know much about heaven, Pomni, the only time I was there was when you were born. And your Mommy was an angel, remember that!” Pomni's father spoke as he leaned over her bed to kiss her forehead, “And she loved me.” Pomni finished “posilutely.”
Her father assured her while shifting his chair closer to the bed, “Even if she ran away?”Pomni rebutted, “She didn't run away.” Kaufmo tried to tell her, "Yes, she did.” Pomni said, after all, she may have seemed young, but her mind was beyond her years, despite the avid questions she asked, “She was kidnapped!” He made a gesture similar to someone hitching a sack over their back, adding emphasis to his statement.
“Honest?” The little girl prompted, “Cross my heart and hope to--” her father flattered before finishing his sentence, but that didn't stop Pomni from filling in the blank.“Die..” Kaufmo, in an attempt to lighten the mood, chimed. “Guess what, I have a surprise for you!” “Ooh, what is it?” Pomni expressed, “ Well, if I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, would it?” He mocked her in a playful tone.
"Now close your eyes if you want to know what it is.” With that, the girl complied, putting her hands over her eyes. When she opened them back up, she was presented with a homely but charming rag doll.”Oh Poppa! She's so cute!” Pomni marveled, Kaufmo sat next to his daughter, beaming with pride, until her question-asking tendencies bubbled back up.
“Does she have a name?” “Of course she does, Raggedy Ragatha.” “Look, she has no heart !” the tailor's daughter lamented “Sure she does inside! You can't see real babies!” Kaufmo retorted, trying to reason with her, but Pomni, not settling for this, gave him a ‘look’ as if she was demanding him to fix what she deemed an imperfection.
Giving in, he responded, “Alright, you little pest, you've talked me into it.” and with that her father went rummaging into his rag box to find something that could be Ragatha's heart.
“Tada! A real heart-shaped heart and this one talks!” and sure enough the heart did talk! He then emerged with a red candy heart with the words ‘ I LOVE YOU!’ scaled across it. "Now. Stitch,stitch,stitch,plenty of heart-strings. Dolls come alive, you know." Kaufmo said while giving Ragatha her heart. In response to this Pomni waved a dismissive hand.
“Carry On" – Poppa
[POPPA]
WHEN YOU'RE ASLEEP
THEN THEY WAKE UP
AND CARRY ON
[POMNI]
“Carry on?”
[POPPA]
THE NIGHT IS DEEP
THEY POP RIGHT UP
AND CARRY ON
[POMNI]
Carry on
[POPPA]
WHEN ALL THE WORLD SEEMS QUIET
IT'S SOME PHENOMENON
THEY CARRY ON
[POMNI]
CARRY ON
[POPPA]
THEY CARRY ON
[POMNI]
“Why am I dying, Poppa?”
[POPPA]
“You’re not, you’re not. Those doctors are off their minds. Now, try to get some sleep. That’s all that makes sense, and Raggedy Ragatha will keep you company. Sweet dreams,” (and with that, POMNI goes back to sleep.)
WHEN TROUBLES THERE
BUT YOU STAND UP
AND CARRY ON
(instrumental)
[POPPA]
IT ISN'T FAIR
BUT YOU STAND UP
AND CARRY ON
(instrumental)
[POPPA]
WHEN ALL YOU'VE EVER CARED FOR
AND ALL YOUR LOVE’S HALF GONE…
“You up there, mister? Now listen, you let my kid live, you hear me? OR I’LL RIP YOUR BEARD OUT, YOU OLD GOAT-- BY THE FISTFUL! You-- please--”
(instrumental)
(With that, he leaves his daughter's room and goes to get some sleep of his own. We're now back in POMNI'S dream world.)
.........