The Richard O'Brien Crusade

Song- The Best Has Yet To Come For Me *

I always get a frission of excitement
A shiver of sheer ecstasy
When my eyes fall on a thing of enticement
I guess I'm blessed and yes it's destiny

chorus

Like the rivers run, restless to the sea
Each and every one, has their destiny
Until kingdom come, I'll travel endlessly
For the best has yet to come for me.
Oh, the best has yet to come for me.

So I get up every morning with great pleasure
And say I'm going to make a happy day
Every moment golden and a treasure
Yes everything'll be okay

(chorus)

(Frockettes)

We love each secret moment of obsession
When compulsion is a certainty
We feel its pull. We give it full possession
We're fervent servants of diversity.

(chorus)

I keep searching for that paragon
(The cat's meow - the nuts - that plum,
That peach)
With hopeful heart I travel on
Then maybe one Avalon
Will be within my reach

Oh the best (the best) has yet to come for me

So distant shores and humble doors I darken
And wait for love to capture me
But I'm not in the market for a bargain
Just wrap me in a Rhapsody

(chorus)

Mephistopheles- Whooo. Oh yeah. Oh, and talking about the best coming, in regard to party sex down at Club Inferno, we do tend to take the moral lowground.

No juice, you're no use.

You're dry, bye-bye.

We smile very warmly upon the fleshy pleasures, in fact, we're the only afterlife joint that allows you and actively encourages you to continue to enjoy them.

In fact, we're the only new world yet to come that allows you to choose entirely what you look like. Oh yes. You can re-design the physical you, the choice is truly yours.

This is an exclusive feature and proving to be very popular.

You should see uh . . . oh B-movie writer script director of Glen or Glenda. Ed Wood. Ed D. Wood now. He looks like a Playboy Bunny. Angora, of course.

Tennessee Williams has adopted the 15 year old classical greek youth
look, all happy gay. He's a happy little gay.

Joan of Arc? Now she's looking very femme. Not that little butch creature that you all remember from history; very femme. Tres' cool, tres' groovy, you're probably surprised to hear that Joanie's down here with us, Mad Joan . . . not as fuckin' surprised as she was! It's true that her spirit did go to the Kingdom of the Opposition once it departed those fiery flames, but when she got up there and she found that not a single solitary one of their voices emanated from those good quarters, she went a little ape-shit; next thing she knew she was down here with us.

And a flaky little pain in the ass she was too. We would have thrown her out with all the other riff-raff, but she fell over- she fell in love is what she did. She's got this big thing going with the Centaur.

I hear he's hung like a horse.

Many people are alarmed by complex and imaginative sex, obviously
Joanie is a master, but if that's what you are- complex and imaginative,
then surely, that's the way it's gonna be. All recreational sex is
deviant sex anyway, isn't it. Because it denies the pro-creational imperative.

Why you continue to make ground rules for yourself which are impossible to keep, I've got no idea.

I think you are frightened that people will start to do it in the streets. In restaurants. In planes and boats and trains, in the oceans (someone in the audience calls out) you've been there.

In lavatories and the Houses of Parliament.

I've been there.

Well you know what they say: One man's meat is another man's
oral fixation.

But I am a supernatural being, and as such I am privy to your innermost secrets and desires. And I know that there are one or two of you here that have orged, quite a bit, in your short life. Oh yes. I know also that most of you have indulged in fantasies of such debauchery, but in reality you would prefer to be an orgy for two, you being fifty percent of that particular equation. Fair enough, who's to blame you.

There are others, on the other hand, or indeed, it may be the same hand, who prefer to be an orgy for one . Gives new meaning to the phrase 'home and dry', doesn't it.

I know a young man who loved making love to himself so much, that
even when he had a headache, he was prepared to fake an orgasm
for himself.

Now there are still others who don't wish to party with any other
protoplasmic beings whatsoever. They're waiting for Phantom Lover to call. And I should know. I've been on call enough times myself.

Let me patch you in to the Phantom Lovers' switchboard, and I'll show
you what I mean.

Hello? Phantom Lovers'. Mephistopheles speaking, how may I help you?
Caller- Uh, hello there. Well I'm not sure really.

Mephistopheles- Uh well, would you like an Incubus experience, a Succubus experience, or would you just like a heavy supernatural weight on your chest?

Caller-You know, I just don't know. Well, what do the first two do?

Mephistopheles- Uh, "in" and "suck" are the clues here, I think.

Caller- Well I wouldn't mind a bit of both, really

Mephistopheles- A bit of both! A double feature!

Caller- Yeah!

Mephistopheles- Ok, Time? I have to say that midnight is traditionally groovy . . .

Caller- Oh that'll be lovely. Is there anything I have to do?

Mephistopheles- No, no. Just light a candle and get your ass in the air.
Caller--laughs- How nice

-pause-

Mephistopheles- It's good to talk.

Now I don't know how many of you have actually thought about having an Incubus or a Succubus experience, but should the thought drift through your mind in the coming nights, coming days . . . I just have this to say to you-

Tell me some sax, brother Nicky.

Song-Incubus of Love

Don't call me, I got your number.
But you won't see me
'Til you slumber
Think of us, a blackbird and a dove.
Let me be your Incubus of Love.

If Madame is feeling cautious
(Drift into the arms of Morpheus)
And link us like the hand is to the glove
Oh. Let me be
(gotta let him be)
Your Incubus of Love.

I'm gonna come for you like a thief in the nighttime,
(He's gonna creep up to your side.)
I'm gonna bring relief to you at the right time.
(There's no place that you can hide.)
Oh, let me be the one you're thinking of
Let me be
(Gotta let him be)
Your Incubus of Love.

(sax solo)

I'll be yours until Aurora
(Lights the morning with her aura)
That rosy fingered nimbus from above
Let me be
(gotta let him be)
Your Incubus of Love.

(He's gonna come for you like a thief in the nighttime),
I'm gonna creep up to your side.
(He's gonna bring relief to you at the right time.)
And there's no place that you can hide.
Oh, let me be the one you're thinking of
Oh,Let me be
(gotta let him be)
Your Incubus of Love.
Oh let me be
(come one and let him be)
Yours Incubus of Love
Oh let me be
(You gotta let him be)
Your Incubus
Of- Love!

_INTERMISSION_

Song- It's up to you (Which Cup You Brew)

(performed by Brother Michael and the Frockettes-or at least it
SOUNDS like Brother Michael, anyway)

When the load gets too heavy
And you can't take the heat
And your breath gets unsteady
And you're dead on your feet