Well, some other weird and generally unexplained things happen (including a bizarre and totally extraneous scene in which all the characters run around madly while a strobe light flashes).

Basically, the rest of plot revolves around breaking the 90210 spell (which makes for some of the show's funniest scenes) and bringing Beauluc and Diana together.

As usual, some of the best characters have little to do with the plot. Brian Martin does a terrific job as Tess Pattern, a wovewy journalist with a speech impediment. She and Tab Lloyd (Andrew Howard), a 15th-century Geraldo Rivera-Maury Povich type, dig away at the sleazy side of the kingdom, threatening to broadcast everyone's dirty laundry. (Political Subtext #2.)

Mark Fish does a fine job as Miranda Warning, a spike-elbowed dominatrix who protects the king from (most) of Prettiface's assassins.

But Warning's character is too often used as a vehicle for political satire. Her jokes about being "out of the loop" or her complaints about a "revolving door prison system" fall flat.

In fact, the authors use a repertoire of hackneyed Bush jokes that seem stale four months after the campaign. (Political Subtext #3.)

The writers also "throw a wench in the works, perhaps only so they can use that pun. Jason Cooper provides an energetic performance as Marion Haste, whose Brooklyn accent sometimes becomes Long Island (we thought she was supposed to be Amy Fisher for a while) and sometimes disappears altogether. Haste is one of Lasnight's previous nights, and now she's pregnant. She writes a kiss and-tell "scroll" and tries to convince Diana that Lastnight is scum. (Political Subtext #4.)

Haste eventually fails for one of Diana's suitors, Baron Waste, a Scottish officer whose role in the plot is never quite clear. Haste and Waste finally get together in a long dungeon scene, the most tedious of the show.

Another one-joke character is Liza Roundhall-Day (Tom Giordano), Diana's nurse. Giordano's wispy voice is perfect for his character. But Roundhall-Day's narcolepsy grows tiresome after the 47th time we see her drop off to sleep in mid-sentence.

And Dragon His Feet (Mark Baskin) is stolen unabashedly from Stuart Smalley, the Alan S. Franken '73 character on Saturday Night Live, Baskin is excellent as the co-dependent lizard, the "self-help salamander." His song, "Stop Dragon Your Heart Around," is fun, albeit a little long.

By far the star of "Romancing the Throne" is Bart St. Clair. His "save the Last Prince for Me," is an acrobatic show stopper. The audience stomps along to the bouncy show-tune, while St. Clair gyrates in a hot pink leotard and spike heels.

(Apparently after Chevy Chase saw the show, he commented that St. Clair had a really bright future. We're not sure how Chase would know, but he's right.)

But St. Clair doesn't have to carry the show alone. Titanic (Adam Geyer), Oberon's lustful wife (there are just a few too many wanton characters sleazing around the stage this year), delivers a magnificent torch long performance in her milky Daerie Queen outfit. Geyer's delivery almost hides the fact that the song is much too maudlin for the Pudding. Almost.

The shining supporting character is Berman's jester, who remains consistently dour throughout the play. He's a child star gone bad, and he has stooped to spying for Prettiface with all the bitterness of Danny Bonnaducci on "Oprah."

When the plot is finally resolved (happily ever after, of course) you may be more confused that ever. But by this time, you won't care who's alive and who's married to whom. You'll be laughing too hard at the big finish to realize that the plot has actually been resolved.