The Affair

PARTS: Jeffrey and Cecilia, two upper-class socialites. Someone to make dolphin noises.

Cecilia: I'm afraid I have some bad news. I'm leaving you, Jeffrey. For someone else.
Jeffrey: What?! Who?! Do I know him?
Cecilia: Yes, unfortunately.
Jeffrey: Who is it?! Not Lance. Please god, not Lance. It's Lance, isn't it?
Cecilia: No, it's not Lance. It's Walter.
Jeffrey: WALTER?!
Cecilia: Yes, Walter.
Jeffrey: But Walter's a... DOLPHIN!
Cecilia: Is he ever! He's very aggressive. And he doesn't have to come up for air every thirty seconds! And he protects me from the sharks.
Cecilia: I never knew you to be a bigot.
Cecilia: Dolphins are mammals, Jeffrey. Just because you're upset with me doesn't give you an excuse for bad taxonomy.
Jeffrey: You're right, terribly sorry about that. But what about our kids?
Cecilia: They know how to swim. Dolphin society is very accepting. And they've always had an appreciation for cetacean endeavors.
Jeffrey: I just can't...
(The doorbell rings. And Dolphin sounds {eek! eek!} are heard offstage.)
Jeffrey: Walter, you bastard! I'll have your fins for this!
(He runs offstage, swinging fists.)
Cecilia: Jeffrey, no! I love him!
(She follows.)

*Obviously, if you don't want to drop an F-Bomb, you can say "Sleeping with". But cursing is funnier.


PARTS: Declaration, South, North, Hearst, Meatgrinder, Irony, Kid, Escalation, Fear

(Declaration enters.)

Declaration: (very dramatically) We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. (sotto voice) Offer not valid to women, blacks, and indians.

(South enters, followed by North.)

South: States rights! States Rights! States Rights!
North: We must preserve the Union!

(North and South trade punches. North wins. Hearst enters.)

Hearst: Remember the Maine!

(Meatgrinder enters.)

Meatgrinder: We must make the world safe for Democracy!

(Irony enters.)

Irony: When you ride alone, you ride with Hitler!

(Kid enters, holding a blanket.)

Kid: Duck!

(Kid crouches down.)

Kid: And cover!

(Kid covers him/herself with the blanket. Escalation enters.)

Escalation: If we quit Vietnam, tomorrow we'll be fighting in Hawaii, and next week we'll have to fight in San Francisco.

(Fear Enters, holding an envelope.)

Fear: Amurica, I ken keep you safe from terra'.

(All begin talking at once. Time this so they all stop speaking at the same time. This means Kid and Hearst should start speaking at about the same time, with the rest staggered in.)

Declaration: By the year 2042, the entire system would be exhausted and bankrupt.
South: We must protect the sanctity of marriage.
North: Most of the tax cuts went to low and middle income Americans.
Hearst: The British government has learned that Saddam Hussein recently sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa.
Meatgrinder: The smoking gun could come in the form of a mushroom cloud.
Irony: I believe the title of the memo was "Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S".
Kid: Because every child matters in America, every child matters. And as we named this bill, no child should be left behind.
Escalation: Mission accomplished.

(All pause, look at Fear.)

Fear: Today's Homeland security alert is... (he opens the envelope, pulling out a piece of red cardboard.) RED! MARTIAL LAW! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

(All run offstage.)


Dinner in Paris is Awfully Romantic, Don't You Think?

Based on a true story. Special thanks to eien_meru for translating the first sentence.

Karen and Mark, two twenty-something Americans with Midwestern accents.
MAN and WOMAN, two forty-something Americans with Southern accents (if your fancy-pants New York and London actors know the difference, MAN should be Texas and WOMAN should be North Carolina).
The Waiter, who is French.

SCENE: Karen and Mark are sitting at a table talking to The Waiter. MAN and WOMAN are sitting at another table.

Karen: je voudrais un Kir, et Monsieur voudrait Il aimerait votre apéritif préféré.
The Waiter: Would sir enjoy a Pastis?
Mark: Groovy. Uhhh, Merci.
The Waiter: Merci monsieur, madame. (as he collects the menus)

(The Waiter goes over to the other table.)

Karen: I'm a bit disturbed by your habit of picking the weirdest thing off of the menu and ordering it wherever we go.
Mark: Well I've never had snails before. Or duck, for that matter.
Karen: Just a warning -- if you ever eat goat brains, I'm never kissing you again.

(MAN looks up at The Waiter.)

The Waiter: Bonsoir. Comment est-ce que je peux vous aider?
MAN: It's about time y'all got around to us.

(The Waiter switches into an OUTRAGEOUS French accent. Karen visibly slumps in her chair, covering her face in embarrassment.)

The Waiter: I am so sorry about zee wait, sir! What can I do for you?
MAN: Well, to start with, how about some rolls like them folks?
The Waiter: Of course, right away! What can I get you to drink as well?
MAN: I'll have a coke.
WOMAN: Y'all got any wine?
The Waiter: Of course, would madame like some Beaujolais Nouveau?
WOMAN: Is that French?
The Waiter: Oh, yes, madame. Varry French!
WOMAN: I'll have that then. And what is all this stuff? (gesturing to her menu) Don't y'all have any menus in English?

(The Waiter looks over her shoulder, and begins to explain things she gestures towards.)

Mark: You know, I'm sort of flattered that people keep assuming we're British.