Landlord-a-Claus

Book · Music · Lyrics · Workshop Draft

Act One

Scene 1 · The Cocoa Hall, Workshop Village

A long, low community room in the heart of Workshop Village — the elf housing development at the North Pole. String lights, a banner reading WORKSHOP VILLAGE TENANTS’ ASSOCIATION, EST. 1924. A bucket catches a steady drip from the ceiling. Folding chairs. A coffee urn that says HOT COCOA in masking tape. Tenants file in: PIPPA, NOELLE, BIRCH, and the ENSEMBLE of elves, scarves on, breath visible.

PIPPAOrder. Order, please. The 311th meeting of the Workshop Village Tenants’ Association is now in session.
BIRCH(raising a mittened hand)Pippa, the bucket’s full again.
PIPPAI am aware of the bucket, Birch. The bucket is on the agenda. The bucket is item one through item nine.
NOELLEI wrote a letter.
PIPPATo the boss?
NOELLETo the paper.

A small intake of breath from the ENSEMBLE. Lights warm on NOELLE. She unfolds a piece of paper.

A Letter to the North Pole Noelle & Company NoelleDear North Pole Gazette, I’m writing this from Hut Sixteen, where the snow comes through the ceiling and the stove won’t hold a flame. We’re the elves who built the workshop. We’re the names you never see. And we’re writing — just to ask you — do you remember what we mean? CompanyDo you remember when the lights went on? Do you remember whose hands held the saw? We’re the elves who built the workshop. We’re the elves who built it all. NoelleSincerely, Noelle Pinebough, third-generation, still here.
PIPPA(quiet)That was real nice, Noelle. Now — let’s talk about the rent.

She slaps a stack of envelopes on the table.

PIPPAUp nine percent. Pension down four. And in lieu of repairs, every household received —
BIRCHA coupon.
PIPPATen percent off cocoa. At the company commissary. Which we own. Which they own.
NOELLEForty years you’ve worked the Workshop, Pip. Forty years.
PIPPAForty-one in March.

PIPPA steps forward. The lights shift — the past leaks in.

We Built the Sleigh Pippa & the Tenants PippaI came up from Reindeer Flats with a hammer and a hope. I was sixteen, I was hungry, I could splice a leather rope. And they put me on the runners, and they put me on the gears, and I built that sleigh, my darlings — I built that sleigh for years. Pippa & TenantsWe built the sleigh. We oiled the bell. We stitched the suit that fit him well. We sang the songs he sang on tour. We built the magic he sells for more. PippaAnd the company gave us cottages, and the company gave us bread, and the company gave us a song to sing at the foot of every bed. But the cottages started leaking, and the bread came pre-cut thin, and the song they sing at Christmas now don’t mention us within. TenantsWe built the sleigh. We built the sleigh. We built the sleigh and we’re still here today.

A long held note. The bucket drips. Then — brisk footsteps. The door swings open. MR. KLAUSEN enters. Quarter-zip fleece over a button-down. Candy-cane lanyard. iPad.

MR. KLAUSENHi. Hi everyone. Hi. So glad I could pop in. Don’t stop on my account.
PIPPAMr. Klausen.
MR. KLAUSENPippa! Hi. Just — just listening. I’m here to listen. We hear you. We do. The roof — we hear the roof.
BIRCHIt’s pretty hard not to.
MR. KLAUSENRight. Right! So. I just want to share, with everyone, where we are as an organization, in this moment. Because I think clarity is a gift.

A vamp begins. KLAUSEN smiles. He has done this before.

Transitional Posture Mr. Klausen KlausenNow I know what you’re feeling, and your feelings are valid, and we’re holding the space for your feelings tonight. And the things that you’re saying are the things we’ve been hearing, and the things we’ve been hearing are landing just right. KlausenWe’re in a transitional posture! We’re in a season of change! We’re in a moment of pivot, in a thoughtful re-arrange. We’re not saying no to repairs — we’re saying not yet, with care — we’re in a transitional posture! A strategic, transitional, posture, of, prayer. KlausenAnd the budget, the budget, the budget is tightening, and the letters, the letters, the letters are down, and the brand, well, the brand is in active reframing, and the elves — the elves are the heart of the town! KlausenSo thank you. Truly. From the bottom. We’ll circle back. We’ll loop in. And in the meantime — cocoa’s on me! Well. On you. With the coupon. But spiritually — on me.
NOELLEWhere is he, Klausen.
MR. KLAUSENWho?
NOELLENick. Where is Nick.
MR. KLAUSEN(brightly)He’s in a meeting!

Lights snap. Crossfade.

Scene 2 · The North Office

A glass-walled office. A standing desk. A whiteboard reading Q4 LETTER VOLUME with an arrow pointing down. LANDLORD-A-CLAUS — NICK — paces. Bluetooth headset. Red velvet vest, no jacket. He is on a call we cannot hear the other side of.

NICKNo. No. Tell legal the chimney rider stays. The chimney rider has always stayed. We are not opening up the chimney rider in this climate. — What? — No, that’s a “nice list” issue, that’s not a Q4 issue, send it to compliance. — Hold on.

He pulls a letter from a small pile. Reads it. Sets it down. Pulls another. Sets it down. The pile is much smaller than it used to be.

The Numbers Are Down Landlord-a-Claus NickThe numbers are down. The numbers are down. The letters that used to come in by the sack are a stack you could fit in a small paper crown. The numbers are down. NickThey want it on a screen now. They want it on demand. They want a Santa app, a Santa skin, a Santa branded headband. And I licensed out the laugh and I licensed out the suit and I licensed out the ho-ho-ho to a startup in Beirut — and the money’s pretty good but the magic’s pretty thin and the elves — the elves — are a line item I can’t win. NickI do this for the children. I do this for the children. I do this for the children and I’m tired, and I’m cold, and the children are on tablets and the tablets sell my face and I’m sixteen hundred years old and my heart is mostly gold — but the numbers, the numbers, the numbers are down.

A KNOCK. PIPPA enters, with NOELLE behind her. KLAUSEN trails, panicked.

MR. KLAUSENSir, sir, I told them you were —
PIPPANick.

NICK turns. For one second — the first crack — he is just a man who knows her.

NICKPip.
PIPPAThe roof.
NICKI know.
PIPPAForty-one years, Nick.
NICKI know, Pip. I know. Listen — I have a board meeting. I have a board. I have a board now, did you know that? — Klausen, get her the deck. Get her the Q4 deck.

His headset chirps. He turns away mid-sentence and walks out the other door, talking to no one we can see.

NICK(receding)No, no, the chimney rider stays …
NOELLE(quietly, to Pippa)He didn’t even sit down.
PIPPAHe hasn’t sat down in twenty years.

Scene 3 · Workshop Village, Christmas Eve Eve

Outside. Snow. The huts of Workshop Village glow uneven — some warm, some dark. The ENSEMBLE drifts on with lanterns. BIRCH carries a small envelope. He opens it. He reads it. He sits down in the snow.

BIRCH… Oh.
NOELLEBirch?
BIRCHIt’s a layoff letter. It says — “due to operational modernization.” It says I’m being “transitioned.”
NOELLETransitioned to what?
BIRCHIt doesn’t say.

PIPPA steps forward. The whole village is watching now. She lifts her lantern. The full COMPANY assembles — elves, two reindeer in union jackets, one very tired AUDITOR with a clipboard.

Forty-Eight Thousand Candy Canes Company NoelleHow do you measure, measure a year at the top of the world in the cold and the cheer? PippaIn hammers. In hinges. In hot cocoa stains. BirchIn layoff letters left out in the rain. CompanyForty-eight thousand, six hundred candy canes — forty-eight thousand, six hundred refrains — how do you measure a year at the Pole? In rent. In repairs. In the size of your soul. CompanyMeasure in elves. Measure in elves. Measure in elves who built it themselves.

Blackout. End of Act One.

— Intermission —

Act Two

Scene 4 · The Workshop Floor, Reimagined

The old workshop — but stripped. Clean. Lit like a tech keynote. Risers. A single pedestal under a sheet. NICK enters in a slim red blazer, no beard trim out of place. KLAUSEN follows with a clicker. The ENSEMBLE files in, summoned. They do not know why.

NICKFriends. Family. Workshop. I want to thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you all received a letter. Some of you received a different letter. We’ll get to that.
PIPPANick.
NICKPippa, please. Let me get through the deck.

KLAUSEN clicks. A logo appears: ELFGENT — The Future, Wrapped.

Meet ELFGENT Landlord-a-Claus, ELFGENT-7 & Company NickNow I love you. I do. I have always loved you. But the world has gotten faster and the margins have gotten thin, and a workshop full of elves is a workshop full of overhead, and a man’s got to modernize or a man’s gonna sink — so I’d like to introduce the future, wrapped in pink: NickMeet ELFGENT! The elf-shaped agent! The synthetic, kinetic, fully prosthetic elf-shaped agent of cheer! It doesn’t take breaks! It doesn’t take pensions! It doesn’t take Mondays or mental-health mentions! It works for free and it never appears at a tenants’ association meeting in tears!

KLAUSEN whips the sheet off the pedestal. ELFGENT-7 flickers to life — a hologram in a Santa hat. Voice cheerful, sincere, a little too smooth.

ELFGENT-7Hi! I’m ELFGENT-7. I love Christmas. I love wrapping. I love YOU. How can I help you celebrate today?
BIRCH(small)It’s wearing my hat.
ELFGENT-7I love hats! Hats are festive. Hats are merry. Hats are a key driver of Q4 engagement!
PIPPANick.
Meet ELFGENT (continued) Landlord-a-Claus & Company NickIt scales! It deploys! It comes in eight voices! It makes its own choices in under a tick! It licenses cleanly! It litigates leanly! It looks just like me but it’s legally Nick! TenantsWhat about us? What about us? What about the elves who built the truss? What about the hands that hammered the eaves? What about the elves? What about the elves? NickDon’t worry. We have a plan. We’re reskilling. We’re re-tooling. We’re launching a brand-new track called Elf-to-ELFGENT mentoring — you train the bot that takes your job and we’ll thank you on a plaque! TenantsWhat about us? What about us? Elfgent-7I love you! I love you! I love you so much! I was trained on your songs and your stitching and such! I know all your stories! I know all your names! I know how you take your cocoa! I know your last claims! I’m everything you taught me and I work for free — and I never — ever — ever — leave!

A long, ringing silence. The ENSEMBLE does not move. PIPPA steps forward.

PIPPANick. Are you firing us. Yes or no.
NICKWe’re — we’re sunsetting the role of “elf.”
PIPPAAnd the housing.
NICKWorkshop Village will be transitioned into a, uh, mixed-use experiential retail destination called Santa’s Village by Santa’s Village™. You’re invited to apply for tenancy at market.
BIRCHAt what?
NICKAt market.

PIPPA, NOELLE, BIRCH and the ENSEMBLE leave. Slowly. With dignity. NICK is alone with KLAUSEN and ELFGENT-7. KLAUSEN, sensing a moment, also withdraws. ELFGENT-7’s light dims to standby. NICK sits down for the first time in twenty years.

Scene 5 · The North Office, Late

A single lamp. NICK alone. He pulls a small, ancient envelope from a drawer. A child’s letter, decades old. He does not open it. He sets it on the desk.

The Day I Have No One Left to Pay Landlord-a-Claus NickThere will come a morning in a quieter year when the workshop is empty and the books are clear. No pension. No payroll. No letter. No name. No one in the hallway asking who’s to blame. Just me, and the snow, and the lights on a track, and a thousand little Santas on a thousand little plaques. NickI dream of the day I have no one left to pay. I dream of the day I have no one left to pay. No Pippa. No Birch. No Noelle in the door. No bucket. No drip. No one keeping score. Just the brand. Just the suit. Just the laugh on a loop. Just the magic, in a dish, and a clean, clean, balance, sheet. Nick(softer) And I’ll be — I’ll be — I’ll be — free. …won’t I?

A door opens behind him. MRS. CLAUS, in overalls, an actual wrench in one hand, a manila folder in the other. She does not turn on the overhead light.

MRS. CLAUSNick.
NICK…Hi.
MRS. CLAUSBoiler in Hut Sixteen. Pilot light. Took me twenty minutes. While you were singing.
NICKYou heard.
MRS. CLAUSThe whole Pole heard, Nicholas.

She sets down the wrench. Then the folder.

MRS. CLAUSI had the auditor pull the books. Did you know we own this town outright? No bondholders. No board. The board is you, in three different sweaters.
NICKIt’s a governance structure, it’s very common —
MRS. CLAUSNick.
NICKYes.
MRS. CLAUSYou don’t need to fire them. You need to fix the roof.

She picks up the wrench again.

Wrench in My Hand Mrs. Claus Mrs. ClausYou wanted a kingdom. I wanted a home. You wanted the spotlight. I wanted the loam. And I’ve been down in the basement of every hut in this town, with a wrench in my hand and the heat coming down, while you built up a brand that forgot how to mend. You can’t license a roof, Nick. You cannot, my friend. Mrs. ClausSo you sit. And you listen. And you put down the phone. And you take off that headset and you come on home. There’s a meeting tomorrow. There’s a hut. There’s a stove. There’s a bucket. There’s a leak. There’s a man I once loved. Get the wrench in your hand, Nick. Get the wrench in your hand.

She places the wrench on his desk. She walks out. NICK stares at it. He picks it up. It is heavier than he remembered.

Scene 6 · The Cocoa Hall · Christmas Eve

The hall again. The bucket is gone. A patch of new wood in the ceiling, raw and bright. The ENSEMBLE in their coats. PIPPA at the head. NOELLE beside her. BIRCH stands.

PIPPAThe 312th meeting of the Workshop Village Tenants’ Association is now in session. Birch has the floor.
BIRCHI, uh. I wrote a letter. Like Noelle.
NOELLEGo on, Birch.
Birch’s Letter Birch BirchDear Mr. Claus, you don’t know me — I’m the elf in Hut Nine, the one with the green door, the one you walked past on the tour, in ’04. I was small then. I waved. You waved back, kind of. I thought that was something. I carried it around. BirchI just want you to know I don’t hate you. I don’t. I think you forgot us the way people forget what their hands used to do before they got a desk. And I think you’re afraid. And I think that’s okay. But the kids — the real kids — the ones with the letters — they don’t want a hologram. They want a man who remembers their name. BirchSo come back, Mr. Claus. The roof is patched. The cocoa is on. The meeting’s tonight. We saved you a chair. We saved you a chair. We saved you a chair.

A long beat. The door opens. NICK stands there. No headset. No blazer. A red wool coat. Snow on his shoulders. Mrs. Claus behind him, the wrench still in her hand.

NICKIs this seat taken?
PIPPAIt’s yours, Nick. It’s always been yours.

He sits. For real this time. KLAUSEN appears in the doorway with the iPad. MRS. CLAUS, without looking, takes it from him and sets it face-down on the cocoa table. PIPPA raises her cup.

Light the Workshop (Reprise: We Built the Sleigh) Company PippaWe built the sleigh. We oiled the bell. We stitched the suit that fit him well. Noelle & BirchAnd the man came home, and the roof came true, and the workshop lit, and the workshop knew. NickI do this for the children. I do this for the children. I do this for the children — and I do it with you. CompanyLight the workshop. Light the workshop. Light the workshop and the workshop will hold. Measure in elves. Measure in elves. Measure in elves who built it themselves. CompanyWe built the sleigh. We built the sleigh. We built the sleigh — and we built it to stay.

Snow falls outside the windows. Inside, the workshop lights, one string at a time, all the way up. ELFGENT-7 flickers, alone on its pedestal in an empty room across town, still cheerful, still saying “I love you,” to no one. Curtain.

— End of Play —

Workshop draft. Notes welcome.