ACT I, SCENE I
EXT. THEBES TOWN CENTER.
Evening. The gazebo at town center stands empty but for two cloaked young women, from a distance, perhaps sisters.
LORELAI: Rory, daughter, mine own dear daughter, knowest thou that all pains bestowed on me by my parents art bequeathed as well to thee? And now, what new edict hath been passed through mine answering machine, but that my faux-father Richard and that all-too mother of mine Emily demand we eat with them each Friday.
RORY: Woe is me. But how can we flee when it hath been decreed, and our allowance depends upon’t? Whither shall we go?
LORELAI: Into poverty!
RORY: Poverty? Ah me! Think, mother, how thou has suffered already overmuch at thine own hand in the land of destitution. Thou must remember, first, that ye were born wealthy, as who should not strive toward penury; next, that we are ruled, as are all ruled, by the expectations of society to which we must obey in all things.
LORELAI: I would not force thee to undertake this vow of desultory asceticism, though thou would’st be welcome as a beggar with me. Nay, be what thou wilt, but I will bury this generosity.
RORY: Go, then, if thou must; and of this be sure — that though thine errand is foolish, to thy dear ones thou art truly dear.
CHORUS: There came to the three-gated city of Thebes three boyfriends, all unworthy. And there came two women — one young and one somewhat less young. Two minds set on two kinds of lives, both stubborn, both erring. Both set always on running — one away from everything, the other from herself into society. But lo, Richard and Emily come yonder. Let us see what they wilt say.
ACT I, SCENE II
INT. PALACE DINING ROOM. DAY.
RICHARD: Emily, that daughter of yours wilt not accept our decree.
EMILY: Forsooth, Richard, dost thou think me a fool? That I know not the actions of mine own household?
RICHARD: I was only—
Emily picks up the phone and dials.
EMILY: Is’t true?
LORELAI: ’Tis true.
EMILY: And thy daughter, Rory?
LORELAI: Nay, this be no daughter of mine, but a daughter to thee.
RORY: Wilt thou deny me this?
LORELAI: A daughter in words is no such comfort as a daughter in deeds.
RORY: Woe is me! Shall I have no share in thy fate, nor in thy life?
LORELAI: One world approved thy wisdom; another, mine.
EMILY: Rory, get thee gone to school; Lorelai, thou cans’t be gone too soon.
EMILY (hanging up the phone): Woe.
RICHARD (from the other room): Eh? Speak up! What thou sayest I doth not know.
EMILY (to herself): Aye, thou doth not know much, though thou dost speak much. I shall away and may somehow yet be rid of thee.
ACT II , SCENE I
INT. DAY. HUNTZBERGER MANSION
MITCHUM HUNTZBERGER: Dost thou consider thyself an obedient son?
LOGAN HUNTZBERGER: Indeed, father. It is as you say.
MITCHUM: Yea, then see, my son, how this woman hath brought thee low and in doing so, our family name also.
LOGAN: Father, but say you nothing of love, that highest of ideals, that one great reputation that lifts the names of all men who find it?
MITCHUM: Hast thou seen her mother? That woman’s speech doth offend the gods. She comes not from worthy stock, and she be a young yacht brigand to boot.
LOGAN: Everyone at Yale doth love her.
MITCHUM: Am I to rule the newspaper world by the judgment of every fickle commenter?
LOGAN: That is no newspaper which belongs to one man.
MITCHUM: Is not the newspaper the owner’s?
LOGAN: Thou wouldst make a good owner of a desert gazette.
ACT III, SCENE I
EXT. DAY. TOWN SQUARE.
MESSENGER: Alas! I bring word of the demise of Logan Huntzberger.
LEADER: What hath happened?
MESSENGER: He hath brought himself low.
LEADER: How so? Speak!
MESSENGER: He hath cheated on his fiancé with Rory Gilmore.
ACT III, SCENE II
INT. EVENING. PALACE DINING ROOM.
Rory, Emily, and Richard sit together at an unnecessarily long table.
RORY: Grandmother, Grandfather, art thou certain banishing thine own daughter be just?
EMILY: Verily. She doth deserve no less.
BUTLER: I carry forthwith an invitation to the wedding of Lorelai Gilmore and Luke Danes.
RICHARD (clutches chest): Forsooth!
EMILY: Alas, alas, unhappy mother! Alas, my child! Fie! Now I am truly alone, undone by this hand, mine own.
CHORUS: Wisdom is the greatest part of happiness; and reverence toward one’s sitcom must be inviolate. Returns of beloved series are ever punished via think-piece, and, in old age, teach the chastened network to be wise.
RORY: Also, I’m pregnant.