If you have not yet read Scene 15, please read that Scene first.
If you missed the start of our parody of the entire musical on Wednesday, September 30, 2009, please enjoy it in order!
Scene 1 is here
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In our last exciting episode, Ms. Eliza DoFiddle declared her independence from the Professor, as she felt that she did not need him, or his "assistance", any more. The Professor, au contraire, was delighted at her parodomaturation, and admired her new independent spirit, yet still feels that they would do better as a team than if they were to go their separate ways - and that she needs him. (And he, her? He'd never admit it!). But is it too late? Is this the end of Team Fiddle-Turtle?
Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!
Can’t get accustomed to his pace
He’s picky as the day is long
Shreds all my brilliant lines to bits
With half-a-million nits
“Off here—you see?
Not hard, watch me!”
Ms. Fiddle’s pacing, pure disgrace
Should be on list of Deadly Sins
If she would only be more careful with her counts in every line,
Read my Guide To Perfect Pacing
: Homework, I ... assign
But as it is, can’t overlook
Each rough, misguided choice
She *must* learn ... how to ... pace!
“Write with Turtle!” What an infantile idea. What an impulsive, naïve, foolish thing to do. I’ll regret it; I’ll regret it! I’m doomed to have each lyric disavowed!
I can see me now, Mrs. Fiddle Writing-Hood
Typing on my little keyboard, fingers sore
I can see me now, with pneumonia taken ill,
Mind fatigued, but still the Turtle, stern: “Once more!”
I’ll try to write the way he wishes
And end up writing jingles instead
Wishing I were with the fishes
While Professor floods my lyrics with red!
In a year or so, when her fans have gone away
And the Five-ings that she seeks have turned to squawks
She'll come back, bow low, and be begging on her knees
For the erudition of the Turtle Talks
Poor Ms. Fiddle. Back then, so spiteful!
Now, ingratiating! And invite-ful!
How gratifying: she, in massive emails day and night
As she clamors, "Teach me more, to write your way"
Pitiable that only with me can she write right
Will I take her back, or let her drown in Ones?
Give her lessons or a spanking for her nerve?
Will I share with her my ... most impressive clout?
But I'm a Turtle, ever kind
Although a sheep, I would; never could --
-- Stop exposition, or even hold a grudge
With all, I share my mind
She'll not have another crack
If she were begging, "Pretty please"
Let her write it on her own
Let her readers gag and groan
I'll help no more; condemned forever: Threes!
“Write with Turtle”—Ha!
But maybe soon I’ll hear him say
“You got it, kid! Hooray!!!"
No more of those:
"Pace: second nature to you now
"None leaving out; wit, weaving in
"And though you’re not a math’matician;
"For analysis, no clue;
"Still, I’m very happy
"To be writing songs ... with you"
I’ll be so proud to share "my space”
With Turtle here on AIR;
Accustomed to his pace
Professor Turtle, back in his den, is pacing (so to speak) aimlessly, not knowing quite what to do with himself. Attempting to stifle the urge, but failing, he boots his computer and reads some of Eliza DoFiddle's early "parodies", seemingly such child's play, so many lessons ago ... was it weeks, months, or years ago? Time is a blur...
He flips to her recent works and to their collaborations, noting the amazing contrast. He recalls the time spent together, sometimes quarreling, sometimes frustrating, sometimes an agonizing effort, but in his heart, he knows that something deep within Eliza has touched something deep within himself.
He trembles for a moment. What good is it to have a shell if it can be breached so easily?
Angry at himself for his momentary weakness, he shakes it off as he would shake parasites off his scales. He collapses into his recliner, head in his hands, and mutters to himself aloud.
[spoken, shocked at the sudden epiphany]
I've ... I've grown accustomed to her grace!
He hears a click of the laptop lid being closed. He looks up and is startled to see in the doorway --
[spoken, mimicking her initial awe of the Professor]
I read your Pacing Tips
before I came, I did. 
The professor tries to stifle a smile and his joy, as unsuccessfully as he tried to stifle his heartbreak a moment ago. Feigning the pseudo-superior smugness that had been too real for too long, he lifts his head and eyes to meet hers, smiles, then relaxes back into his recliner with a look of contentment and happiness.
Fiddle, dear, please fetch my slippers -- all four of them. 
She brings his four slippers and crawls into the recliner with him, tucking her head on his shoulder as he puts his flipper around her and draws her close. They snuggle, happy together. 
And they were Merried (and Pippined)
, and parodied happily ever after! 
 SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen the movie and don't intend to, the actual footnote is below all the copyright stuff. If you haven't seen it and intend to, or saw it but forgot it and might see it again, don't read that footnote.
 Could that be a follow-up, since it was a hit for The Turtles? Who knows? Guess we'll just have to wait and see what comes next from the minds of the Furtle (Fiddle-Turtle)!
 Our humble homage to AIR's greatest male-female writing team ever -- oh, heck, just AIR's greatest writing team ever, regardless of gender, who so many times have inspired us all.
This has been a Fiddlegirl-Tommy Turtle production.
Written and produced by Fiddlegirl and Tommy Turtle.
Directed mostly by Tommy Turtle, as he's inherently as domineering as Henry Higgins, but Fiddlegirl generally ignored him, as everyone should, and thus came up with massive brilliance of her own.