Jack

Undone Stage Play

Before I let Greg loose here, I (Shaun) just wanted to say a word about this story. It's genuinely one of my favourites on Wattpad. During last year's London Wattcon, I was able to accompany Greg, along with our friend WayneSharpe3, to the very steps of Tower Bridge where this is set! What you're about to read is an exclusive look at an amazing Ripper tale! You're in for a real treat.

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Hi Y'all! Greg here again. I wrote this as a project for a playwriting class I took last spring. I intended to add it as an additional chapter to the original Undone short story, but I really cant think of a better way to debut it than as an appetizer for the Jack anthology.

Undone the Stage-play stands on it own, but the format of a stage-play is a bit awkward on Wattpad, so I think people who read the original short story first will get the most out of this version. There is a wee bit of new material in this though, so if you've read the original and want another taste, here you go. If you haven't read the original, you're welcome to drop by my profile (GregCarrico) and check it out! Otherwise, tuck in!

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UNDONE - THE STAGE PLAY

Curtains open to a dark stage. A Spotlight falls on JACK, Stage Left. He jumps down from the open door of a Brougham (sounds like Broom - a large, extravagant carriage). He looks around the still-dark stage, lantern in hand, nodding his approval as he strolls toward the audience. He pauses to speak a few words to the carriage driver, though we don't hear the exchange, then he tips his hat towards the audience, addressing them directly.

JACK

I met him in the last moments of August, while London burned.

The skyline of 1888 London lights up backstage, bathed in flickering yellow light. Smoke rises from the stage.

JACK

It's the South Quay Warehouses to be specific. They've been burning most of the day, but now they've eaten a few city blocks, they seem to be losing their appetite.

(He peers at the audience.)

You're not from around here. I can tell. I was a new-comer to London, myself, in the Summer of 1888. Let me help you get your bearings. Over there is the famous River Thames.

Sound of churning water and steam engines. An alarm bell rings a few times and a cloud of steam erupts from stage right.

And that demonic racket is a fire barge. London has two of them. They douse the fires with the fetid water of London's jugular. The pumps are powered by evil, clanking, hissing steam-engines. And up there? That's the skeleton of Tower Bridge. She may not look like much now, but she's a marvel! Rather, she will be 6 years hence.

A Scaffold lights up behind Jack as he strolls to Stage Right, peering through the darkness in search of something.

You aren't here for the bridge, though, are you? You want to know about him.

Let's see... It was right about here.

(He points to a spot Stage Right)

Lights up on a red brick wall; mud spattered, with water trickling through a few cracks. There are a couple of wooden crates, some coiled rope, and other unidentifiable shapes hidden beneath dirty canvases.