Marlowe's Emporium! He hopped up on Satan's knee and told him what he wanted for Christmas.
"I want 'us' off my name. Faustus Faustus --the other doctors tease me-- 'Faustus with the leastest', big laughs, big stupid laughs! It makes me tired."
"Ok," said jolly Satan. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, I don't wanna be no old doctor no more. Just Faust. No stinkin' responsibilities. No stinkin' old. Just Faust, young Faust!"
"Would you mind being a tenor?"
"No, fine with me!"
"Ah, then let's skip up 200 years. You want Gounod."
"Yeah, yeah, lots of gonads!"
"Sort of, it's an opera. Behold: the lovely Marguerite; Siebel who wins all hearts with his 'Flower Song' and whose life you make intolerable; Valentine, who outsings you to the bitter end; the family you hector into desolation!"
"Sounds great to me!"
"Only if they don't do the ballet in act 4. That's where you and I get disgraced."
"What else you got?"
"Well, we could skip sideways and try Goethe."
"How d'you spell that?"
"That's 'ghost' while holding your tongue-tip out. Other doctors tricked me into saying 'my father works in a shipyard' doing that. No goeth for me!"
"That's Goethe, pronounced 'Gay-tee'. You get to hook up with Helen Of Troy --a great beauty of the Mycenaean Age."
"When was that?"
"Oh, four or five thousand years ago."
"Mommy! Mommy!" Cried Doctor Faustus. "Santa wants to give me to some really old lady!" He leaped up and ran off in search of his mother. Satan picked up the intercom handset.
"Hello Santa? Satan. I think you got a problem-kid on the way. I'll have my helpers lend your helpers some pitchforks and, if that doesn't work, just mention Helen Of Troy.