CHATEAUGAY LAKE STEAMBOAT GAZETTE CO.

In the whispering pines of Adirondackia, where time itself ran like a meandering river, a tremor echoed through the fabric of existence. The Chronophage crystal, a shard of obsidian imbued with the hunger of forgotten eons, had shattered. Its splintered energy ripped open a fissure in time, weaving a tapestry of echoes between two worlds.

One reality pulsed with the frenetic energy of a bygone era. Chateaugay, a sleepy Adirondack town, bore the vibrant scar of Beverly Nasty. Her exploits – whispered tales of nocturnal revelry and scandalous liaisons – were a fading legend, a cautionary firefly in the memory of the town. Yet, a spark flickered anew. Marcel Masque, a talented theatre maverick recently employed as a “visiting instructor” at Malone’s NCCC Theatre program, with a mane of dark, iron-grey hair and a burly swagger that rivaled a lumberjack, saw in Beverly’s story a twisted punk-rock opera, a “Beverly Nasty Musical.”

North Country Community College’s cavernous auditorium became the crucible of creation. As rehearsals commenced, the actors were drawn deeper into Beverly’s narrative. Lines blurred, reality warped. Sarah, the young woman cast as Beverly, found herself waking with hangovers she hadn’t earned, her body a vessel for a past life’s reckless abandon. Whispers of forgotten lovers filled the air, phantoms of a bygone era dancing on the periphery.

Meanwhile, Marcel Masque, a man fueled by the insatiable hunger of artistic ambition, pushed his performers to the brink. He craved authenticity, a raw portrayal of Beverly’s uninhibited spirit. The Chronophage crystal’s influence, a silent puppeteer shrouded in obsidian shadows, twisted his vision. The musical became a conduit, a gateway threatening to spill the past into the present.

Days morphed into weeks, rehearsals into ritual. Each line uttered, each scene enacted, chipped away at the temporal veil. Sarah, possessed by the spirit of Beverly Nasty, began to mirror the legendary loose morals she portrayed. The townsfolk, once mere spectators, found themselves drawn into the narrative, their memories flickering, their emotions entangled with phantoms.

On the day of the performance, the air crackled with a chaotic energy. The lines separating past and present, actor and character, had unraveled. The stage lights blazed, illuminating the actors, not as performers, but as vessels for the past’s insatiable hunger. The audience, mesmerized, felt themselves transported. They relived the scandals, the parties, the very essence of Chateaugay’s forgotten nights.

The climax of the musical, a frenzied Fireman’s Field Day Rec Park Bacchanal mirroring Beverly Nasty’s infamous escapades, became a time portal! The Chronophage’s hunger, amplified by the collective memory of the town, tore the fabric of time wide open. A spectral Beverly materialized, a vengeful spirit fueled by the town’s forgotten desires.

Chaos erupted. The theatre echoed with screams as the spectral Beverly unleashed her fury. Marcel Masque, consumed by his hunger for a groundbreaking performance, became her willing puppet. Only Sarah, her spirit tethered to both timelines, held the key. She channeled Beverly’s spirit, not to fuel her fire, but to understand it.

In a moment of clarity, Sarah revealed the source of Beverly’s rebellion – a stifling small town, suffocating expectations. As the town witnessed their own complicity, the echo of their forgotten desires, a wave of empathy washed over them.

Beverly Nasty, no longer a vengeful spirit, dissipated. The Chronophage crystal, satiated for now, retreated into the shadows of time. The tear in reality mended, leaving the theatre in disarray and the town forever changed.

The “Beverly Nasty Musical” never graced the stage again. Yet, in the hushed whispers and haunted memories, the cautionary tale of Beverly Nasty lived on. A reminder that the past casts long shadows, and some hungers are best left forgotten.