Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day

                                                                        - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here. 
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site
-------------------------------------------------------------------
                                  Birthday Love
                                  by Janet S. Tiger    c) May 21, 2014
                                      all rights reserved
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com

              (A woman comes out onstage.  She is holding a pizza in a box.  She is angry)

I'm angry.  You may have guessed from the steam coming out of my ears, or the fact I just told you, but you don't know why.

Here, you take a look. 

             (She opens the box)

Can you read it?  It says, 'Will you marry me?'

Nice, huh?  A lovely gesture for someone who loves pizza, right?

And I love pizza.  But here's a hint for you exactly why I am angry.

 We've been married for ten years!  We have three kids!  And here is the best part- I was the one who proposed to him!  So there are no backsies!

             (She takes a slice and bites into it)

This is my favorite - chicken and pineapple with extra cheese.

              (She smiles, let's out a big sigh.)

He knows I can't stay mad after pizza.  That is very annoying how he uses pizza as a weapon!  

             (Takes another slice)

What am I complaining about?  He's a good guy - and I love him, still.  With all the stuff that goes on in the world, I am grateful that I met him, and we got married, and had these great kids......and on his birthday, he still gets me a pizza......

            (Calls offstage)

Even if it will never change the past!

           (Smiles)

But I'm glad he keeps trying!

Happy Birthday, honey!

           (She turns to exit,looks back, raises the pizza)

And many more!

           (She exits.)

(Note- And many more for you, Stan - have a great birthday and a great year- I love you still!)













Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year! 
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down.
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here. 
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site
--------------------------------------------------------------------
May 20, 2014 Day #97  by Janet S. Tiger  Tightrope  Monologue Mania

                                  Tightrope
                    (from the play Ringmaster)
                                  by Janet S. Tiger    c) May 20, 2014
                                      all rights reserved
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com


            (A woman comes out – she is dressed in tights, can be almost nude in appearance.  She takes a magic marker and draws a line across the stage.  Steps on one end, puts out both arms)

Each day……is like being on a tightrope.

           (She takes a step, carefully.)

We open our eyes, and we are awake.

          (She takes another step)

We feel all the aches and pains that have appeared and reappeared overnight.

           (The next step is gingerly taken)

But we keep going.

We try not to look down…..

            (She  peers cautiously over the line)

…but we do anyhow….and it doesn’t help!  If anything….

            (She wobbles a bit, gets a hold, continues)

………looking makes it worse.  We say we want to know what’s about to happen, we want to be in control, but the truth is…..we don’t!

            (She looks behind herself, shudders)

It is so much easier when we can’t see how far we’ve come……

            (She now takes a bandanna from a pocket and ties it around her eyes)

Or how far we have to go…….

            (She does another couple of steps, much more confident)

There is a poetry in the motion of the unknown – we walk through life and we try to toe the line, be the good person…..only sometimes……

            (She stumbles a bit, rips off the bandanna and jumps.)

….sometimes you just can’t do the right thing….you ….

            (She is in free fall now)

….you end up choosing the story line that seems better at the time, like going out for that drink….or more fun, like telling a small lie so you can go away for a weekend, or less work, because life is so much work….….

            (And then she lands……on the line again)

Only to find you are back right where you started.

            (She starts to put the bandanna on, then stops)

But this time, maybe it’s best with your eyes wide open….

            (She ties the bandanna around her neck, starts to inch across the line)

And maybe this time you can get through the day….without falling off the line…..

            (She reaches the other side of the stage, looks back at the line.)

So tomorrow, you can do it again – only tomorrow, you get to do it…..

            (She steps back on the line, arms out, only in the opposite direction)

Backwards.

            (She does one step back turns to look at how far she has to go.  Blackout.)

End of scene

Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #96  by Janet S. Tiger Fill Dirt    c) May 19, 2014

                                       Fill Dirt

                                 (from Book of Teas - Southern accent)
                                     by Janet S. Tiger    c) May 19, 2014
                                      all rights reserved
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com

       
          (Older Southern woman, T, enters - from full-length play Book of Teas- heavy Southern accent)

My Daddy loved to talk.  He was a real politician.  He loved fast cars - a remnant of his bootleg days, and he loved my Mama.  But he did not have any affinity - ooh, there's another tea - affini - tea.  - he had no affiinity for dirt.

Not to get me wrong, he could his hands dirty - he knew how to fix a fence, if need be, or dig a hole for a well.  But he just preferred not to - he used to say that's why he risked his life to earn money, so he wouldn't have to ever dig a ditch again.

Mama used to point out his risks almost got him on a chain gang diggin ditches, but he would wave her words away with his hands and say, 'missed by an inch is the same as missed by a mile,' and that would end the discussion.

But my mother's father had a farm, and boy, did he love dirt!

He could pick up a handful and tell you exactly what was in it, what had been in it, and what could grown in it.

The thing that annoyed him most was when people would sit around gossiping - he didn't care about the gossip, that was my grandma's department, but he hated when they called it 'dishin dirt.'

He just hated that expression!  He was not a particularly passionate man - politics held no interest outside of how his farm was affected, religion was another area for grandma, and sports were somethin kids did in high school, before they grew up.  But say someone was 'dishin dirt' and he would explode!

(Imitates his voice)  Don't they have any idea how valuable dirt is?  Don't they know we live and die on this dirt - this earth!  Mother Earth!  They are attackin their own mother!

And he would take me away from the fascinatin discussions around the table where the women would be drinkin their tea and drag me outside to give me a lesson in.....dirt.

Because he also hated the expression....'cheap as dirt'

'Why do they say that?' he would scratch his head and light a cigarette.  'These are the same people who will pay thousands and thousands, maybe millions of dollars for a few square feet of ....dirt!  As long as it's in the right spot, that is, if it's called real estate...'      And I would listen to him explain how dirt - earth -was the most valuable thing on earth, because without it, there would be no earth!

It was a simple philosophy - and I came to understand it the older I got.

My parents decided to make a swimming pool out of the old swimming hole we had behind our house.  And they came with bulldozers and dug up that hole, deep enough so the cement could be poured.

All the dirt they dug up was hauled away, and my grandpa came to watch as they did that.  He shook his head, I remember, and just laughed.

'They gonna be pretty upset when they need that dirt for fill one day....just wait and see.'  And sure enough, a few years later, when my mama decided she wanted a garden to the side of the house, and it should have a graceful hill, just like she saw in a magazine.....and my Daddy had to truck in pick-ups loaded with...you guessed it, fill dirt.


For all we knew, it coulda been the exact same dirt they trucked out when the pool was made!

Now you are here, and I know you are bringin me some dirt - and it is gonna fill up my brain.

Unfortunately, the dirt you will dish out now will be much harder to remove than any gravel.....

        (Listens)

How do I know it's bad?

Because when people have good news they call on the phone.....

        (She imitates how the caller can barely speak with happiness)

...... all excited and barely able to contain themselves with the excitement.


Bad news on the other hand - the dirty kind - is brought over and dished out with wringin hands and hangin heads, so, before you begin your tale of woe......which I hope I can help with, but I suspect it will only be to pick up the fallen bits of dirt- before you begin, would you like a cup of tea?

       (End of monologue, end of scene)

Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Monologue Mania Day Day #95  by Janet S. Tiger   M  T  c) May 18, 2014
Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #95  by Janet S. Tiger    M   T   c) May 19, 2014

                                         M T
                                      by Janet S. Tiger    c) May 18, 2014
                                      all rights reserved
                                     tigerteam1@gmail.com


            (A writer comes out onstage - the actor can represent this anyway they like.  Waves arms around.)


(Loud and slowly)  M...... T......  Two letters.....

That's what it feels like when there is nothing there. M T.  Empty.

Nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Void. Zero. Blank. Totally.  Containing nothing - not filled or occupied.

That is my brain, how it feels right now.  I have a deadline.

But I can't write - because there is nothing there.

 I love to procrastinate.  My children are the children of procrastination.

I was given an advance for a novel to turn in on a certain date six months away.  I waited.  I had nothing.

 Well, maybe less than nothing, as worry is something but it subtracts from your nothing so you have a negative sensation.

The week before everything was due, I got the idea, and started outlining.  It was gonna  be down to the wire.

Three days before it was due - I get a call from a friend - they had someone crap out on them at the last minute, could I come to New York to do an emergency re-write -and I would have to be there....tomorrow.

Lotsa money.  Big lots of money.  More than ten novels - but I had given my word, and worse.....I had spent every penny of the advance.

Except for the last pennies which I was using to buy coffee to get through the next days.

But they were depending on my turning in the novel -presses were waiting, publicity tours had been booked.   It was..... a commitment, I had promised, and to take the other opportunity would have meant breaking my word.


So I refused the lots of money - some element of my soul had some element of honor.  Boy is honor expensive!


Yet I have no regrets - because when I turned in the novel, the assistant to the editor ended up ......becoming my spouse.... and we have four kids- - and the youngest just graduated from college and told me something that made me a bit proud.  He said that I had taught him well - that honor is important, and not everyone knows it, but he and his siblings did, and he thanked me.

My children of procrastination.  I love them and I would not have changed one second of my life that brought them to me.

Do I procrastinate still?  What do you think?  This was due today!

          (The writer walks offstage, smiling, looks at watch, turns back)

But it's still today!

          (Exits, still today)

Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8







          

Monologue Mania Day #94  by Janet S. Tiger  The Worst Day of My Life  c) May 17, 2014
Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day

                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monologue Mania Day #94  by Janet S. Tiger  The Worst Day of My Life  c) May 17, 2014

                       The Worst Day of My Life

                                           (from a one-act as yet untitled)

                                                     by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved

                                                tigerteam1@gmail.com




              (A woman comes onstage, she is tired, and she is resigned.)

Dad, I need to talk to you about something important.

Please, don't interrupt me.  I know it's the worst day of your life today, just as it's been for the last couple of years, since the pneumonia.

And I understand that you feel horrible, and I know that the doctors don't get that you are sick, even if they can't figure it out.

And they look at you and see a man who can walk, who lives on his own, who makes his own breakfast, and goes out to the donut shop, and they think - what is this man complaining about?

And I am with you almost every day - and I know you don't want to complain, you want to be well.

And I .....(hard to say)....and I have seen what you've been writing and I know that you want me to see it........and I know what it means......

Please!  Do not interrupt me!  Not now!

(Takes a deep breath)

Oh, this is not easy to say.

I know what you are planning......and you know I disagree with you completely, and I also know that, even though our religion frowns upon this......what you are planning, that God himself hates what you are thinking about going through with.....that.....I will continue to try to convince you to see yet another doctor....in the hopes that this new one will be THE one that will help.......

Wait.....I know I talk a lot, but it's time for you to listen.....

(Very deeply affected)  If you do decide to......(so hard to say) to end your life....I will accept that it is your choice.

            (Deep breath, slowly exhaling)

And I will only ask you one thing.....is that all right?

         (She tilts her head)




Good.....I ask that you....(choking on this).....please let us know, so that we can all come over and say ......one last goodbye.....

Is that OK?

(Listens)

Thank you.....




          (End of scene)










Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678

www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com

Member Dramatists Guild since 1983

Playwright-in-Residence

Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #93 One Foot in Each Door (response - scene 1 continues) by Janet S. Tiger  c) May 15, 2014  
Note-
Although this monologue will stand on its own, to fully understand this, please, read Day #92

                     One Foot in Each Door
                        (response - scene 1 continues)
                                                  by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                tigerteam1@gmail.com

              (We see the man who gave the dollar bill and he is just shaking his head, he is steaming)

What the hell kind of bastard are you, man?

I mean, I was trying to do a good deed - you looked kinda down, and maybe you were homeless, and I thought another human being doin something nice would be kind of like, hey, a pleasant gesture....but NOOOOO, you may be richer than I am!  Actually, from what you just told me, I'd bet money you were richer than I am, because I'm not rich.

I'm just a guy who knows what it's like to be down and out - hey, I lived on the streets for five years myself, and until I pulled myself up, I woulda been happy if someone gave me a buck without my having to beg for it!

             (He takes the dollar and shoves it into the other man's face)

But not you!  Oh, no, you couldn't just say 'thank you' and take the buck and give it to some other guy  and let me feel good - no, you had to wave it in my face so I feel like shit!  Well, thank you, kind sir, for being a world class ass!

             (He turns, then thinks of something)

And next time, if you don't want any one feeling sorry for you, stay outta this park looking like this!  Put on your nice clothes and sit over in the fancy restaurant and give the waiter a tip yourself!  And I don't care if your father had you dragging his soggy lunch around and people looked at him funny!  I just care that you shouldn't make anyone else miserable when they really should be feeling good for helping someone!

             (He now takes the bill and puts it into his pocket, he starts to walk away)

End of this monologue

            (Note  -But for those who want some more info in order to prepare to perform this,the scene continues as the man with the briefcase  reaches out and touches his shoulder.)

Briefcase Man -  I'm sorry, did I really look so bad?

Dollar guy -  Yeah, you did.  You're a lawyer - what happened?  Did you lose a big, important case?

            (The man with the briefcase takes a deep breath.)

Briefcase- Worse......

Dollar-  What could be worse than losing?

Briefcase -  In this case......winning

             (The scene will continue in a one-act titled - One Foot in Each Door, coming soon- along with some names for these characters!))

Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day

                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #92 One Foot in Each Door by Janet S. Tiger  c) May 15, 2014  
                              One Foot in Each Door
                                                  by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                tigerteam1@gmail.com

(A man comes onstage. He is from another country- it can be anywhere, he just needs an accent that is not definitive – unless the actor wants to make it so. He is wearing a well-worn suit, maybe a little threadbare….is that a patched rip? One his back is a well-worn backpack and in one hand a paper bag with lunch – it is a little greasy. In the other hand is a dollar bill. He looks at the bill, then nods, he is …sad.)

　 When we first came to this country, my father used to take me to his work with him. Where we came from, my father was a professor – a man with much knowledge who people looked up to, a scholar, a wise man – but here, he was a…..(says it with distaste)…a foreigner.


My job was to help him, because my English, even at age seven, was better than his at age thirty-nine.

He tried to learn, but something had happened to him when we had to leave, it was as if all he knew and was…was gone.

He worked in construction once he got to America, but he hated it. He thought of it as work that only servants did.

How funny are our prejudices! They looked down on him…..and he looked right back down at them.

Who was right? Or were they both down on the same level?

               (He opens the bag, looks in, smiles)

I am a lawyer now.

               (Stands up straight, speaks with no accent)

I have no accent…except….

                (Reverts to the accent, slumps shoulders a bit)

Except when I feel it makes the others think I am not so smart….I use grammar a little bit oddly, and perhaps stilted. I have found that sometimes gives me the advantage I need – they never think I could figure out a way to win, and then….

                (He takes his finger and draws it across his throat.)

Then it is too late.

               (He smiles, laughs as he stands tall again.)

And the best part is, they often cannot figure out what happened. So the next time we meet, I do exactly the same routine. And again, in spite of the fact I beat them last time doing the exact same thing…..they still treat me like….a foreigner.

(Mumbles words in another language) One foot in each door. That’s what he used to say. My father. He would stand ready to into the place he was to install a lock, or fix a cabinet, or hang curtains, or whatever he was to do that day. He would put one foot into the apartment or the house or the boat and leave the other outside. He would look at me and say ‘One foot in each door’

And I watched and learned. My other job was to watch his lunch and eat with him.

              (He holds up the brown bag proudly.)

As a boy, I thought this was a great honor, to give my father food.

But then I saw how the others looked at him on the street, in his old clothes, carrying his tools, with a small boy holding onto a greasy paper bag.


              (He opens the bag, removes a nicely wrapped sandwich.)


I get these from the finest restaurant here downtown - $25.00 a sandwich – plus tip. But I keep it in an old greasy bag so people don’t know what I can afford.

               (Holds up the backpack)

In my backpack is a leather briefcase, and in the briefcase, I keep a plate made of Wedgewood, the same pattern the Queen uses – if it breaks – I have a dozen more. I use fine Irish linen for a napkin, and I have a small bottle of Glen Meringuey.


So, I tell you these things, so you will know that, much as I appreciate your kind offer of this dollar bill, I think one of the other gentlemen in this park need it much more than I do.

              (He turns to go, looks back, sighs)


But I thank you for your kind gesture….and wish you a good day……


            (End of his monologue – the response -from the man who offered the dollar bill- will be another     day’s monologue)







Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
------------------------------------------------------

Monologue Mania Day #91 by Janet S. Tiger In Order of Appearance  c) May 14, 2014  

                                             In Order of Appearance
                                          (With apologies to Will Shakespeare)
                                                 by Janet S. Tiger
                                          © 2014 all rights reserved
                                              tigerteam1@gmail.com

               (This is a piece for actors.  It must be performed smoothly, no seams, seamlessly, you get the idea.  The actor - either gender - crawls out onstage, and looks around.  Smiles, is a real baby, cries, smiles again, then slowly, stands up, speaks like a small child.)

Wow!  What a life!   How beautiful!  What delicious smells!  Well, maybe not all of them…..

              (Looks around in awe)

What an amazing day!  They call it …(tries to remember the word) ...a birt….day……

This is all mine!  Why does it take forever to get a birt-day?  Why can’t I have another one tomorrow?  Wait a minute....

             (Stands up straighter now.  More arrogant, struts around the stage)

How do they get to tell me what to do?  They don’t know anything!  I can’t wait to be them, so I can rule the world!  And do it right!

            (Sees something go by, takes a deep breath0

So beautiful!  I want that!  Give that to me!

            (Steps back as if slapped)

That was harsh!  (Wisdom dawning dimly)  Maybe…I can’t have everything I want….

            (Looks as something whizzes by, speaks as an adult)

Whoa!  Was that another birthday?  Where did it go?

            (Looks at it gone in amazement)

How did my kid get to be eight years old?  It used to take a hundred years to get to a birthday and now, it’s like I can’t keep up……how old am I now?

            (Turns around, shoulders are now hunched a bit, voice is no longer young.)

Why can’t I see anything without my glasses?  And how can I find my glasses if I can’t see where my glasses are?  And where did all these damned wrinkles come from?  Who cares about to be or not to be!  I want my youth back!  Give me my twenty-five back!  Or even forty-five….

            (as saying this, the shoulders stoop further, the voice gets more frail)

….or sixty-five……..or….even seventy-five……What are you trying to get me to figure out that damned computer – I told you, to quote a king -  I am too old to learn!

            (a cane is now needed and the person peers into the audience)

…how old am I anyhow?  Didn’t I just have a birthday?  Wasn’t it yesterday?  Seems like it…. …Is this the seventh stage?  Or am I on my third leg now?  Am I mixing up Oedipus and Shakespeare again?  I guess when the age is in, the twit is out…

I think I missed a few -  the soldier, the judge and jury…..

You be the judge…..where do we all fit into this gigantic reality show we call life?

            (Hobbles offstage, slowly, turns back)

Are you coming to help me?

            (Reaches out the hand without the cane)

Thank you….you’re a good child……did I ever tell you the story about a famous king with no eyes…….he answered a question from the Sphinx……(laughs) …no, the SPHINX… not the Stinks……

            (Exits.  The circle is complete)

           

Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
--------------------------------------------------------------
 Monologue Mania Day #90 by Janet S. Tiger  Part One-Part Two
(c) May 13, 2014  

                                         Part One-Part Two
                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved
                                                tigerteam1@gmail.com

 Part One

            (A person comes onstage.  Gender is unimportant – although each person will make this    role their   own in how they differentiate part one from part two.  Suggestion – for ease –       a head covering or jacket.  These are easy to wear and easy to remove. Part one starts as a        happy person, bouncy, not worried.)

Oh, Kiley, where are you?  Come here you little sweetie…..

            (The person looks around the stage)

Come on, Kiley, it’s not funny to keep me waiting…..you know we have a lot to do….

            (Now the person is getting a bit worried)

Kiley……you aren’t trying to frighten me, now are you?  I just want to make sure everything is okay….you can come out now……you have to eat before we leave…..

            (More nervous, the person is a bit frantic)

Kiley…..please….I am starting to get worried…..where are you?  Come out!  (Yelling)  Now!

            (There is a sound, the person reacts, much happier)

I heard you!  You little devil you!  You ARE hiding!   Why do you do this to me!  You know I love you! Well, I’m gonna find you!

            (The person smiles, is looking around, sees something, grabs, happy, holding on tight)

Oh, Kiley!    You are such a troublemaker!  You’re gonna pay for this!

            (Holds Kiley up high, smothers them in kisses)

There!  I’ve got you now!

            (Pulls Kiley close)

And I’m never gonna let you go!

            (Smiles as they leave)

And you’re never gonna hide like that again, right?

            (Puts Kiley next to head, laughing)

I didn’t hear you!

            (They exit)

Part Two

            (The person returns, wearing the different hat/jacket – or without it. The person is in a terrible 

 mood…can we smell alcohol on the breath?  This is not a happy person, this is a person with a mission)

Oh, Kiley, where are you?  (Sarcastic)  Come here you little sweetie…..

            (The person looks around the stage)

(Harsh)  Come on, Kiley, it’s not funny to keep me waiting…..you know we have a lot to do….

            (Now the person is getting a bit annoyed)

Kiley……you aren’t trying to frighten me, now are you?  (Fake sweet) I just want to make sure everything is okay….you can come out now……you have to eat before we leave…..

            (More annoyed, the person starts to get agitated)

Kiley….(fake sweet).please….I am starting to get worried…..where are you?  Come out!  (No more sweet….yelling)  Now!

            (There is a sound, the person reacts, the smile is of the hunter)

I heard you!  (Faking, trying to be pleasant) You little devil you!  You ARE hiding!   Why do you do this to me! (Overly sweet)  You know I love you! Well, I’m gonna find you!

            (The person smiles, an unpleasant smile, is looking around, sees something, grabs, holding on tight, too tight)

Oh, Kiley!    You are such a troublemaker! You’re gonna pay for this!

            (Holds Kiley up high, squeezing)

(Fury)  There!  I’ve got you now!

            (Pulls Kiley close)

And I’m never gonna let you go!

            (The person now strangles Kiley until there is no life left)

And you’re never gonna hide like that again, right?

            (Puts Kiley next to head, laughing)

I didn’t hear you!

            (The person laughs, holds Kiley in arms as they exit)

(End Note – I used ‘me’ instead of Mommy/Daddy for ease of reading, but the actor can use Mommy/Daddy as gender desires – this will make the piece scarier and more personal.  Actor’s choice.  For those who want to know who Kiley is – that, too, will be the actor’s decision – pet, child, make it real.  This piece is designed so that you could even interpret it several other ways – but that is for tomorrow)


Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day
                                                                        - for a whole year!  
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues, please
scroll down for the previous days or go to http://www.monologuestore.com/ -click on the Monologue Mania button please scroll down. 
     To start at the beginning - Feb. 13, - click here.  
     For a list of the blurbs from each day, click here
Help  a playwright and get  more great  award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site!
---------------------------------------------------------
Monologue Mania Day #89 by Janet S. Tiger  Down to the Wire (c) 2014  

                                           Down to the Wire

                                                    by Janet S. Tiger
                                             © 2014 all rights reserved

                                                tigerteam1@gmail.com

            (A man comes out onstage.  He is wearing a uniform, but it is old, and does not fit.  But he wears it proudly.)

Kids, please put away those computers.  Give ‘em to me……

            (He reaches out his hand, he is firm)

NOW!

            (The computers are handed, and he puts them in his pockets)

Thank you.

Remember what Granddad used to say?  When you get down to the wire, that’s when it all comes together……down to the wire…..

You’re probably wondering why I put on granddad’s old uniform from World War II.

He wore it last Veteran’s Day…..you remember, when he sat on the float?  He is going to be buried in it tomorrow, and I’m bringing it to the funeral home in a little while… I just wanted to have him close to me one more time.

He was my hero, from when I was a little kid….right down to the end here.

One day, when I was about your age,  I told him he was my hero.

He said that I shouldn’t think of him that way, and he told me this story, that happened to him during the December of 1944, down to the wire for the end of the war.

He’d been separated from his unit during the confusion at the beginning of the Battle of the Bulge.  He was walking trying to find other guys he knew.  It was cold, winter, he was wet, scared, it was a bad day…….and just then a Jeep drove by with American markings on it…..the driver slowed a bit, and my Dad waved at him to stop.

(Yelling)  Can’t stop!  Have an important message for headquarters!

…the driver yelled at him, and to add insult to injury, there was a puddle and the Jeep went through it soaking him and covering him with mud.

My father – your grandfather – gave him the universal finger, and cursed him –…(loud) ‘I hope you go to Hell first!’

My father kept walking, and a few minutes later he heard a crash, but there were a lot of noises that distracted him, and he had to stay alert, so he didn’t think much about it, until he rounded a curve in the road and passed through some trees to see the Jeep he had cursed smashed into a tree. 

He ran to the Jeep, and the driver was there, but he had no head anymore – it had been severed by a trick the Germans used – they would string wire across the road between two trees – if a Jeep went through fast enough, the driver would be decapitated….

My father checked, and sure enough, there was the wire …….and he took the Jeep and drove it to the next camp, and gave the body of the dead driver to be buried.  He remembered what the driver had said, about an important message, and delivered it himself.  He had just narrowly escaped being killed by the Germans who had strung that wire, and he ended up with a medal for bravery, even though, as he said, the only reason he was still alive was the other guy, the driver was an SOB.

So why do I tell you this story now?  Because your granddad wanted me to – he wanted you guys to know he wasn’t perfect, so when you face some tough stuff, you’ll remember to do your best, but don’t worry – you ain’t never gonna be perfect.  And when you get down to the wire…..if you can….just duck…….

            (He reaches into his pockets for the computers, is surprised by the reaction)

You want more stories about granddad? 

            (He wipes his eyes, then stands up straight)

I think he would like that……let’s go outside and take a walk…..

            (He turns to leave, looks back)

Some of these stories are best left unheard by your mother……He was in Paris on a furlough....and there was this girl.......


            (We hear him start another story as he exits.  The end.)


Janet S. Tiger    858-274-9678
www.JanetSTiger.weebly.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8