Manipulation - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Charlotte Spencer, Charlotte Blackledge

This is a world

Where there’s all kinds of pressures

Where everybody’s anxious

And desprate for remedis

I use my hands to alleviate suffering

Slowly but surely, I massage your cares away

Aches and pains and fractures and sprains

Manipulation — that’s what I do

Lumps and knots and bruises and clots

Manipulation

Doesn’t sound very nice

It isn’t

Take a look

At everyone here

Manipulation

That’s what they do

I stretch limbs

And they stretch the truth

Manipulation

(He smiles and lights a cigarette, not offering one to anybody. CHRISTINE sips

at her vodka, makes a face.)

Never fancied Russia much

Russia is beautiful, and home of greatest social experiment in history!

Wouldn’t suit me at all

So, important to make friends, Russia and West.

Otherwise…

(Makes a sound and gesture signifying a massive explosion.)

(to WARD)

What did you mean about manipulation?(?)

You’ve heard of the Kray twins?(?)

Sort of

Well, there they are

Two of the most powerful men in London

But what do they do?

They’re gangsters

They have the police and the politicians in their pocket.

Even Harold Macmillan,

did he but know it

Who?

(pause)

Harold Macmillan, dear?

The Prime Minister?

(He draws on his cigarette, as MANDY discreetly stares at the twins.)

There at that table

The Kray twins are plotting

With Ronnie’s new boyfriend

Lord Boothby of Aberdeen

Also the lover of Lady Macmillan

Who we must assume

Is close to the Prime Minister

Ron and Reggie want something done

Bob Boothby breathes in Lady M’s ear

Lady M sleeps with the PM

Manipulation — it’s right here

Every table there’s someone at it

(He points at a table in the back.)

That chap in the Savile Row suit

That’s Charlie Clore, the entrepreneur

Built the Hilton

Mad about sex

Didn’t they just make him a sir?

Yes, but he was not at all pleased

Lord Clore’s more what he had in mind

Bloody hell, the people you know!

Don’t suppose he’s the marrying kind?

(WARD points over to RACHMAN’s table.)

That fat fellow

Rachman’s his name

Owns two-thirds

Of Notting Hill Gate

He’s the king

Of bedsitter-land

Manipulation

I only try

To manipulate bodies

I try to put people together and rescue them

I don’t approve of exploiting the vulnerable

Lining your pockets from other men’s weaknesses

Everywhere, wherever you look

Manipulation rearing its head

London life, there is no escape

Manipulation

I know what you’re talking about

Manipulation, just like you said

I spent every evening with men

Trying to sweet-talk me into bed

Everywhere, wherever you look

Manipulation rearing its head

London life, there is no escape

Manipulation

Everywhere, wherever you look

Manipulation rearing its head

London life, there is no escape

Manipulation

Til you’re dead