Monologes 11

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Monologes 11 Powered By Docstoc
					CHOOSE ONE FOR YOUR GENDER – MEMORIZE OR KNOW REALLY
WELL!!
MARY: [A priest is tied in a sack, wriggling and struggling about on the ground. The others
bundle things together in a wild haste while old Mary tries to keep him quiet.] Be quiet, your
reverence. What is it ails you, with your wrigglings now? Is it choking maybe? [She puts her
hand under the sack, and feels his mouth, patting him on the back.] It's only letting on you are,
holy father, for your nose is blowing back and forward as easy as an east wind on an April day.
[In a soothing voice.] There now, holy father, let you stay easy, I'm telling you, and learn a little
sense and patience, the way you'll not be so airy again going to rob poor sinners of their scraps of
gold.

MARY LOUISE: “Hey, you four million self-absorbed, uncaring people, I'm Mary Louise
Moss, from Escanaba , Michigan , and I like your town, and I want to stay here! Won't you
please pay some attention to me! Just a little bit!” No one even knows I'm here except … well
… myself and the rent collector.

GENEVA: You’re a cucumber all right. That, Mr. Innocent Routine, is a police composite sketch of
one Adam Bierbaum—con man, bunco artist and all-around sleaze bucket. Wanted in four states on
felony fraud charges—mostly scams on senior citizens—and worth a nifty ten thousand dollars to
whoever provides information leading to his arrest and conviction. That, smart guy, is you.

GREG: Heather was always a bit self-conscious. Preoccupied with her looks. Always a great
body. A very "hot" body. But for whose intentions? The fact of the matter is Johnny-- somewhere
she crossed the line. I mean--She wasn't well. Psychologically. Between you and me? All she'd
eat? Carrots. Carrots! Raw carrots John. That's all she was eating. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.
Swear to God. Carrots. Even if we went out to eat, she'd throw down the menu and pull out a
carrot. I didn't have a wife. I had a rabbit.

MALE 40-60: No!! I haven't been promoted. It's just me—there's no one to manage! I do
everything! The whole department! And that's not all! I'm also expected to take incoming calls
because there's no receptionist, fix the computers because there's no tech department, field
customer complaints because there's no customer service! I'm in charge of the mail room, the
cafeteria, janitorial services, research and development! Last week, human resources was let go,
the whole department, and I received a memo—which I’d actually typed myself because there's
no secretary—instructing me to familiarize myself with all applicable state and federal
guidelines!

THE CREATURE: I expected this reception. All men hate the wretched. How, then, must I be
hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy
creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You
purpose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty toward me, and I will do
mine toward you and the rest of mankind. If you will comply with my conditions, I will leave
them and you at peace, but if you refuse I will glut the maw of death, until it be satiated with the
blood of your remaining friends.

				
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