By Sorcia MacNasty
First things first: Mack the Knife? He’s in fucking charge. His pimptasticness knows no bounds. He’s equipped with some kind of magical gauntlet cock that is drenched in bitch-attracting perfume, and he swings that thing all over Victorian London, not even stopping for a lunch break. He is up to his tits in whores, people, just swimming through a veritable ball-pit of hookers. Also, he’s pretty much an early Tony Soprano. When the mood strikes, he gleefully goes on stabbing sprees (in between his mighty fuck sessions) and ALWAYS gets away with it. If you don’t believe me, take it from Bobby “I fucked Sandra Dee” Darrin:
Anyhow, this is what we’re told in the Prologue of Threepenny Opera. And it’s a hobo singing, so we should totally trust him. At least it beats Newsies. *shudder of horror* Side note: Don’t you bet Christian Bale just hears the word “Newsies” and it makes his butthole cringe into a time warp?
Sadly, Act I is more about the Hobo King, Peachum, and his bribe patrol. He runs the beggers, pick-pockets and every other dirty Victorian asshole in London. They’re all like, “Please, sir, can we have some more, guvner?”
Whereupon he just chortles at them with a turkey leg in one hand and a bag of money in the other, probably getting blown by the lone hooker who isn’t chasing Mack the Knife around with her free boobies. I haven’t seen a live version of this, so I’m assuming this picture in my head is dead fucking accurate. Regardless, Peachum is all peeved that his GROWN ASS daughter, Polly (fact: Peachum is also a dick when it comes to naming kids) is probably off banging Mack like a screen door in a hurricane. It’s not that he doesn’t get that Mack is vagina-bait incarnate, it’s more that he’s mad Mack has “stolen” his property, i.e. his daughter. Since he clearly does not have any idea what he’s up against, he vows to destroy Mack, master criminal who is famous for ALWAYS GETTING AWAY. Peachum, you dumb shit.
Meanwhile, Mack is marrying his favorite dirty pirate hooker, Polly, in a barn. This guy is just class, class, class, you know? Then he sends his pals to go steal them a wedding feast, which they do promptly. Polly sings her dirty pirate hooker song and they all get drunk and rejoice, like you do at weddings.
Until BWOOP! BWOOP! PO-PO ALARM! Yeah. Chief of police strolls in, but instead of handcuffing these obvious thieves, he’s just all, “Yo, gents, what’s good in the hood?” He’s actually BFF with Mack since they were in the army together and because they are both fond of ass-kicking names: point in check, Chiefy McPolicepants = TIGER Brown. Motherfucking TIGER. Rawr!
Finally, Polly is like, “I know when a party turns into a sausage fest, I’m out. Love you, punkin.” She strolls back into her parents house, reeking of elopement and sexy times with Mack, probably cradling her joyously sore vagina, whereupon her uptight parents pounce on her and try to shake the happy right the fuck out of her. She’s having none of this nonsense and sort of stupidly tries to rub it in that Mack in un-goddamn-catchable, mentioning it’s because he’s all tight with the 5-0. Bitches just be fucking up everyone’s game.
Act II is pretty much an act about various whores and their whore-nanigans. Polly agrees to take charge of Mack’s shady mob maneuvers while he plans to leave London and thus avoid an arrest on his criminally spotless arrest record. But he can’t resist stopping off for some travel poon, one lay for the road, as it were, with his old hooker pal Jenny. Jenny turns out to be a squinty-eyed narc, though, and turns him into the cops, like a total cooze. At jail, both Polly and Tiger’s kitten daughter Lucy show up and have a sing-off/cat-fight over who really owns Mack’s man-pudding. Lucy then helps him escape, like a boss. Peachum, that colossal turd burger, is fucking pissed at this turn of events, and threatens to unleash a veritable tidal wave of hobos on the streets for Queen Victoria’s coronation, which would make poor Tiger look pretty fucking retarded. Tidal waves of hobos, as it turns out, are pretty disruptive during parades. Duly noted.
Act three finds our Horrible Harlot Jenny demanding her pay from the Peachums and turning over Mack’s whereabouts ONCE AGAIN to those ass circuses.
Now, if I were the Peachums, and knew fucking anything about Mack, I would just start trolling the brothels until I found the horny bastard. But I’m smart.
Shockingly, Mack is located in yet another whore house, with one Sukey Tawdry (which, incidentally, will totally be my stripper name if this teaching bullshit doesn’t work out). He is rolled out of the warm lady meat into prison again, this time to hang for his crimes of awesomeness. Apparently, he is the brains of his entire criminal operation, because those dumb fucks can’t even squeeze enough cash from helpless bystanders (of which there would be many, one would assume, on the goddamn parade day) in order to come up with bribe money. Whomp-whomp.
Things are looking bleak for our forlorn hero, but that’s what Deus Ex Machina is for. A messanger swoops in at the last possible second saying that, per the QUEEN, it’s now “SIR” Mack the Knife, thank you very much. He’s been given a castle and money and shit, because even royalty is susceptible to his manly machine gun of love. Victoria probably just smelled him in the vicinity and was all, “That smells like a penis I’d like to give money to!” There’s another fucking song and BAM. Happy ending.