Whitby, Wesley D._MENG_2010
| Title | Whitby, Wesley D._MENG_2010 |
| Alternative Title | A Clever Cat, A Wicked Wolf, and a Naughty Little Girl |
| Creator | Whitby, Wesley |
| Collection Name | Master of English |
| Description | The three plays included in this project were written to be performed at Treehouse Museum in Ogden, Utah, as a part of an effort to create a brand of theater especially designed for the Museum's primary audience: families with children ages two to twelve. As an arts organization, our aim has been, at least partially, to produce theatrical offerings that permit and encourage young families to participate in formal performances that will allow them to learn appropriate theater etiquette in a manner that is at once educational and entertaining. But most importantly, I have been tasked with creating a brand of theater that meshes with the Museum's larger family literacy goals. Because the museum's exhibits and programs work on a model that requires cooperative interactive play between parent and child, an educational approach that puts parent/child communication at the center of experiential learning, the challenge comes in translating the kind of self-guided encounters that families have while playing in the Museum's hands-on exhibits for an environment that is, ostensibly, designed to be experienced in a "sit and listen" mode. Taking as fact the principle that theater (good theater) will always encourage the audience to be more than spectators, there are, nevertheless, limits in formal theater to the amount of participation allowed or encouraged, particularly in an environment intended, at least on one level, to teach audience/performer boundaries. |
| Subject | Children's theater; Playwriting; Fables |
| Keywords | Folk tales; Fairy tales; Family stage; Plays; Treehouse Museum; Ogden (Utah) |
| Digital Publisher | Stewart Library, Weber State University |
| Date | 2010 |
| Language | eng |
| Rights | The author has granted Weber State University Archives a limited, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to reproduce their theses, in whole or in part, in electronic or paper form and to make it available to the general public at no charge. The author retains all other rights. |
| Source | University Archives Electronic Records; Master of Arts in English. Stewart Library, Weber State University |
| OCR Text | Show Whitby 2 Whitby 3 Contents Introduction ..……………………………………………………………..………….. 5 The Master Cat - or - Puss in Boots ..…………………….………………………… 9 Wolf Tales: A Folk Tale in Sheep’s Clothing ..……………………………………. 31 Goldilocks and the Three Bears: A Fairy Tale Sitcom in Three Acts ...…….…… 69 Whitby 4 Whitby 5 Introduction The three plays included in this project were written to be performed at Treehouse Museum in Ogden, Utah, as a part of an effort to create a brand of theater especially designed for the Museum’s primary audience: families with children ages two to twelve. As an arts organization, our aim has been, at least partially, to produce theatrical offerings that permit and encourage young families to participate in formal performances that will allow them to learn appropriate theater etiquette in a manner that is at once educational and entertaining. But most importantly, I have been tasked with creating a brand of theater that meshes with the Museum’s larger family literacy goals. Because the museum’s exhibits and programs work on a model that requires cooperative interactive play between parent and child, an educational approach that puts parent/child communication at the center of experiential learning, the challenge comes in translating the kind of self-guided encounters that families have while playing in the Museum’s hands-on exhibits for an environment that is, ostensibly, designed to be experienced in a “sit and listen” mode. Taking as fact the principle that theater (good theater) will always encourage the audience to be more than spectators, there are, nevertheless, limits in Whitby 6 formal theater to the amount of participation allowed or encouraged, particularly in an environment intended, at least on one level, to teach audience/performer boundaries. In examining this supposed obstacle to uniting these two seemingly dissimilar experiences, I quickly discovered insight in examining what I had only intuitively observed as a storyteller: that among the stories I was writing and telling, those that were intended for children were only really successful at winning the audience when told or performed to mixed groups of children and engaged adults. On occasion, as a professional storyteller, I am booked to tell stories for segregated groups of only adults or only children. Both adults and children love a good tale, but on those unfortunate occasions when I find myself alone with groups of only one or the other, tried and true stories seem to fall flat. A story that is wildly popular with a mixed group somehow leaves a crowd of children restless and unresponsive. Likewise, the same “children’s” tale, when told to a group of adults, will not elicit appropriate responses in the appropriate places. But combine the groups, and the parents react where they believe the children should react. And because the parents respond, so do the children. When watching a child-centered comedy, for example, adults laugh not only at the jokes, but also because the children seem to be enjoying themselves. Taking this one step farther, when I begin to actually write the jokes for the adults and not for the children, not only do I discover that the children still respond, but that the adult response is, of course, more natural, and therefore more effective at creating the shared experience. Rather than writing over the heads of the children, I find I am helping to provide an opportunity for the children, with the presence of and participation of adults, to reach for meaning and significance otherwise denied them if they were to approach the same performance alone. Whitby 7 For their part, the children develop a sense of irony from both watching and experiencing “funny” with their adults. While, from the parent, the child learns to react to both comic and dramatic timing, the adult seems to get from the child what I can only describe as cultural permission to enjoy the performance. It is not surprising that the same parent/child involvement that makes the Treehouse Museum experience meaningful is also key to the success of the Museum’s theater experience. It’s easy to oversimplify this observation and suggest that parents are simply providing behavioral examples for their children, but such an assessment only gets at the “sit down and be quiet” part of the formula. I have seen that the real magic happens when the adult isn’t actively teaching or lecturing. It’s the unconscious demonstration of emotion that really seems to be at the heart of the teaching moment for both parent and child, even, and maybe especially, when the shared experience involves the somewhat passive experience of viewing a performance together. To make the most of this for the three plays in this project, I have chosen to adapt stories that were already part of a shared cultural experience and in the common domain. The tales in question are not, in reality, tales for children only, though they belong, typically, to the children’s canon and are therefore familiar to adults. I have tried to remain true enough to the original tales that the story will still resonate with adults and give the children a background for what might otherwise be a new tale, in an effort to further bridge the gap between age groups, between parents and children, and between spectator and participant. But I have also attempted to make each story different enough, fractured enough, that it will re-engage those familiar with the story. In including additional levels of meaning that appeal to adults, I am, on at least one level, trying to Whitby 8 convince the adults to stay engaged in a so-called “children’s theater” performance in spite of themselves. But more importantly and less overtly, I am trying, by extension, to get the adults to teach their children the language of theater. With this in mind, the plays that follow, though written for performance at a children’s museum, were not written for children, but rather, they were written for adults – meant to be enjoyed by children to be sure, but written for adults. That the children remain an interested party to the affair is just happy, deliberately crafted, luck. – Wes Whitby, December 2010 Whitby 9 The Master Cat - or - Puss in Boots Written for the Treehouse Troupe by Wes Whitby from the Fairy Tale by Charles Perrault For the production of this version of the clever cat story we set the play in pre-revolutionary France - the cat dressed as a musketeer in a blue tabard and the obligatory leather boots. The ogre was represented, very successfully, by projected shadow puppets – a convention which served to keep him less frightening than an actor in a monster suit, while at the same time facilitating the magical transformations that the Ogre needs to make. CAST Puss Julien/The Marquis of Carrabas Sebastien/The Princess Marie Gilbert/The King/The Ogre PROLOGUE Actors enter the stage with great energy, bows all around. When Puss enters it is through a door in the pages of an oversized book, placed up center. Gilbert: (With a bow and a flourish) Mesdames and Messieurs, we welcome you to our play this evening. We invite you to laugh, and to cry with us… Julien: More of the first…I hope… Sebastien: To think and to play …with us… Julien: More of the second…I hope… Gilbert: And to listen and to learn with us… Julien: Plenty of both…I hope… Gilbert: Ours is a story of fortune… Sebastien: Of seeking fortune, of finding fortune… Julien: And of making the best of one’s fortune Sebastien: It is a fantasy of love at first sight, oo la la Gilbert: And a parable of vanity brought low. Whitby 10 Julien: It is a fable of wit and wisdom and of knowing where to find them. Puss: (Steps out of the book and into the narration) But above all else, ladies and gentlemen, it is the tale of a cat… Sebastien: (Lets that sink in for a minute) The tail of a cat…do you mean that we’ve all come here tonight just to talk about him tail? Gilbert: No, not this kind of tail…(Indicates storybook) …that kind of tale. Sebastien: Oh…that’s good, cause I would much rather talk about his ears…I mean…if we were going to do that sort of thing… Julien: What about his nose, come to that…or his cute little whiskers? Gilbert: No. We’re not going to talk about any part of his…it’s not about a cat’s tail, it’s a tale about a cat…see what I mean. Sebastien: I thought you said we weren’t going to do the tail… Puss: Enough of the tail, you villains! It’s easy to see that I am the only wit and wisdom in this fable. Shall we just say, that our story comes to you tonight, on little cat feet; these feet to be exact. Julien: That’s a different part altogether. Gilbert and Puss: Shh. Puss: As Grandmother Tabby used to say, “A day hunting mice usually begins without breakfast.” Brothers: What? Puss: As with most stories of fortune…this story begins with misfortune… With a flourish and a bow, the actors move into their places, the light changes, and the story begins. Whitby 11 SCENE ONE Brothers arrayed in order of age, Gilbert standing, Sebastien perched upon a cart or fence, and Julien listlessly sitting upon the ground. Gilbert Our old father the miller has died and is laid in his grave beneath the old oak tree. Julien Just as he wanted. Gilbert Yes, just as he wanted. Sebastien And our poor little brother is the saddest for it…a shame to be so young and without father and mother…hah Gilbert Be kind, Sebastien, we all miss the old man, but life and his fortunes… Sebastien Such as they are… Gilbert Such as they are, his fortunes are now ours to divide. Julien As he wanted. Gilbert As he wanted. Come. Here I have his will. Sebastien Then let’s discover what he wanted, shall we? Gilbert: We shall… “Alexandre Meunier, the miller”…la la la…”regarding the properties”…um hm, and so forth. Ah, here it is: “To my eldest son, Gilbert, I leave the mill, its properties, including the house, and all other financial concerns.” Sebastien: By that he means debts… Gilbert: Yes, sadly, there are many of those, or all of us would stand to inherit more, still, with the mill as my own, my fortunes are assured. I might even take a wife… Sebastien: Enough of your dreams… what of papa’s second son, Moi? Whitby 12 Gilbert: Yes, sorry…Uh, here…: “To my second son, Sebastien, I give the mill donkey and the second best wagon.” Sebastien: Eh…not much, but with a donkey and the wagon, I can at least be off to seek my fortune. I can hire out my services, or perhaps brother, we can pool our resources and continue the work of the mill. As for you, little brother, there is sadly no fortune left at all. Gilbert: Don’t be so hasty, Sebastien, there’s something here for Julien as well: “To my youngest son, Julien…the cat that lives in the barn.” Sebastien: Oh! Oh! Congratulations Julien! Your fortunes are made. Why when you get hungry, your cat can catch you mice or birds…and if you get hungry enough, you can EAT the old bag of bones, if you can find her that is. Puss has got to be good for at least one good meal. Gilbert: And think of the fur hat you’ll have to keep your head warm this winter. Both brothers laugh and have sport with Julien but as Sebastien leaves, Gilbert returns to pacify his brother. Gilbert: Come now, Julien. It’s not really as bad as all that. Don’t let us tease you. You are after all only the third son, and you can hardly expect to get more, no matter that you did love the old man. But listen, you – and your cat – can keep your jobs here with me – you working the mill, and the cat chasing the mice. And I won’t even charge you rent to keep your room in the house! At least until I find a wife. Slaps him on the back and leaves. Puss sneaks out from behind the tree to watch his/her new master. Julien: Thanks…(Addresses the audience) They’re right, you know – I’m old enough to seek my fortune, but I have nothing to find it with. Perhaps I will have to try to sell my cat…or eat my cat… (He shudders at the thought while Puss comes up to him) Puss: Please… let’s have no more talk of eating. Julien: Did you say…”talk”? (to audience) No, of course not. Cats don’t say anything. Now, on top of everything else, I’m imagining that my cat can talk. Puss: And why not? Most cats can…if they have something to say. And what I have to say, young master, is this, “I can help you gain your fortune – and more – and all I ask is… Julien: But you can talk. Whitby 13 Puss: Yes, I think we have established that. Now do you want my help, or should I run along and find my own fortune as cats usually do in situations like these? Julien: No, No, of course I accept your help. But how come you never said anything before, I mean, all of those times you followed me around the mill… Puss: Part of the job. Being a cat and all. As Grandmother Tabby used to say, “When you want to catch a mouse, act like a cat.” Julien: What? Puss: Savoir Faire! Savoir Faire! The idea is, I make your fortune for you, I also make my own, but you’ve got to trust me. Comprenez? Julien: Trust a talking cat, I don’t trust my own wits right now, but sure, I have nothing to lose. Puss: And everything to gain. Now all I need is a large sack, suitable for helping to catch small animals. And then, most importantly, I need a pair of boots such as gentlemen of fortune wear. Julien: Boots? A cat in boots? Puss: Actually, I prefer, “Puss in Boots” if you don’t mind, and yes the boots are essential if I’m going to see the King. Julien: (laughs a bit, thinks he’s out of his mind) Oh, of course. Why not? A cat…puss in boots, talking, going to see the king…(stands and slowly makes his way toward the wings. Puss follows) Come along then, Puss, lets get you some boots. Say, wouldn’t you rather slippers? They’re cheaper. Puss: No, got to be boots. “Puss in slippers” sounds funny. Got to be boots. Oh, and can I have a fancy hat? Julien: A fancy hat? They exit. Whitby 14 SCENE TWO Making their way through the audience space, Puss and Julien discuss the cat’s plan, as if continuing a previous conversation. Julien: Then you’ll see the King? Puss: Yes, but in order for the plan to work, we must be subtle. Here, now take this and help me get one of these rabbits. Julien: How many do you need? Puss: Just two, now shhh! Be vewy vewy qwiet. I’m hunting Wabbits…Ahah, here’s one, I think. Are you a rabbit? (If yes then: “I thought so! Here, try these on [ears] and come with me.” If no then: “Are you sure? What if you were wearing some of these [ears]?” (If still no, move on to another kid and try again.) Julien: Ah, I see, that’s easy, I think I see a rabbit here…yes, here you go…come with me (etc) – or – No guess not, more like a badger…here we are (etc). Puss: (Take rabbits down front to the space just before the stage to receive their instructions) There, just perfect. Julien: Oh, I see, you take the rabbits to the King, in my name, and then he has them baked into rabbit pies and invites me to dinner and… Puss: No! Nothing so barbaric. No, we teach these conies to dance and cavort and to entertain the royal court – as a gift for the King and his daughter the Princess. (to the rabbits) Can you dance? Here try this…and this…there you, just spin around a bit and wiggle your ears…perfect. I think we’re ready. You wait here, Master, and I’ll come to you when the deed is done…(after some hesitation on Julien’s part) As Grandmother Tabby used to say, “A dancing rabbit is worth ten canaries.” Julien: What? Puss: Trust me! N’est pas? Julien: Talking cat…dancing rabbits…why not? At the very least, the King will think that I run an interesting farm of some sort. Well, good luck Puss. If the King decides to eat you himself, at least do me the courtesy of asking him to return the boots…and the hat… Julien sits in the audience as the lights come up on the King’s throne room. Whitby 15 SCENE THREE Puss: Now come with me, rabbits. (They climb the stairs onto the stage) Good, now wait here until I call for you. Then you must come and perform for the King. The King and Princess enter. King: So boring today, don’t we have anyone more interesting to see? If we have to see one more embittered landowner with a complaint about the tax on cheese production, I’m going to go absolutely neufchâtel and crackers…ah, tant pis. Such is the life of the King. Who or what is next, daughter? Princess: It seem that there is a cat here to see you, Papa. King: A cat? Princess Oui…wearing boots. King: What a strange day. Come forward, kitty, and let us get a look at you, and your…footwear. Puss: Yes, Your Majesty, I am Puss in Boots. King: That, I can see. Puss: Yes, your majesty, and I bring greetings, from my master, the uh…Marquis of…Carrabas, Your Majesty. King: The Marquis of where? Princess: Of Carrabas, Papa. King: Carrabas? Never heard of him? Do we have such a Marquis? Princess shrugs. Puss: Yes, Your Majesty…Your Highness. He is a very rich and handsome Marquis, and he sends you – both of you – his greetings. King: Oh, well, it seems that I just can’t keep track of all of the Marquis, Baronets, Viscounts and lesser princes in this kingdom of mine. And what does this Carrabas want? Puss: He sends you the gift of these two rabbits, Your Majesty. (to the rabbits) Bow to the King. Whitby 16 King: Oh, good, cook them up in a couple of pies and we’ll invite your Marquis by for dinner. Princess: Oh, Papa! Puss: If you please, Majesty, these rabbits will now dance for you. (rabbits dance as the cat plays the drum or tambourine) King: (after the dancing) Oh, Bravo! What a refreshing spectacle. Princess: Oh, Papa, they are just adorable. What a dear this Marquis is to send us such entertainment. Puss: And handsome, your Highness King: Please tell your master, the Marquis, that his gift is well received. Puss bows and leads the rabbits back to the audience as the lights go down on stage. King and Princess remain seated in tableau. Whitby 17 SCENE FOUR Puss: Very nicely done. I’ll take your ears if you please. Julien: (rises and speaks with the cat, front of house again) So, Puss, what of the King? Puss: The King was entertained, and sends you his thanks. Julien: Wow…just think, the King sending his “thanks” to Julien the Miller’s son. Puss: Actually he sent his thanks to the Marquis of Carrabas. Julien: The Marquis of where? Puss: That’s what the King said…but never mind, we’ve got to get another gift ready. Julien: Look, Puss, are you sure this is such a good idea? I mean, on my list of things never to do, “Never mess with the King” is at the top, just above “never stand behind Sebastien’s donkey.” Puss: Master, you must trust me. After all, it’s not as if you actually have to meet the King. I promise, you won’t be sorry – and neither will I…I hope. As Grandmother Tabby used to say, “When visiting the King always wear your best trousers.” Now take these… (hands him some more ears) Julien: And what are we hunting this time? Puss: Bears. Julien: Bears!?! What will they do? Puss: They sing. Julien: Oh…Of course…here nice bear, where are you…there you are…come with me please. Puss: You there, you know twinkle twinkle little star? You’re hired. Julien: And I just wait here again, do I? Puss: Yes, and I’ll return with further tidings from the King. Julien: (To the bears) Good luck! He sits in the audience. Whitby 18 SCENE FIVE Puss: (Puss and Bears climb the stairs onto the stage) OK, are you ready for your big break? You wait here, and when I call for you, you come to the King and sing the star song. As the lights come up on the King and Princess they begin their conversation. King: What is next, daughter? Princess: It is this “Puss in Boots” again Papa. King: Tant mieux, what a relief. We could use some diversion today. What do you bring us little cat? Puss: I bring another gift from my master, the Marquis of Carrabas. King: Ah, yes, the dear Marquis? And just where is this Carrabas, I am not familiar with this part of the kingdom. Puss: Uh…it is far away, Your Majesty, in the North… Princess: Do you mean in Normandy? Puss: …and East…North and East, Your Highness. King: Ah, I haven’t been over that way in some time. I thought that part of the kingdom was looked after by an Ogre. Isn’t that right my dear. Princess: Yes father, a dreadfully smelly Ogre. Said to have had magical powers. It is said he could change into anything he wanted. Puss: Ogre? Oh, you mean the magical Ogre…Oh…we, uh, got rid of him some time ago. King: Splendid news! Is that what you’ve come to tell us today? Wonderful. Puss: Only in part, Your Majesty, you see, my Master once again sends you a gift. I present, the singing bears! (Bears come forward and at the cat’s urging sing “Twinkle Twinkle,” perhaps with the help of the audience) King: Once again, you surprise and delight us. Both with your company, Master Cat, and with the gifts your master sends. Now that you also tell us that the dreadful Ogre of the…the… Princess: The North-east, Papa. Whitby 19 King: The dreadful Ogre of the Northeast is gone, we should very much like to meet your master, the Marquis of Carrabas. Puss: (horrified) Oh you can’t do that! King: Of course I can, I’m the king. Is there some reason why I should not meet this Marquis? Puss: Forgive me, your Majesty. I do not mean to imply…of course you can do what you want, but, what I mean to say is, you don’t want to go before he sends his next gift… Princess: And what is that, Master Cat Puss: Why my master wishes to send you some…musical…badgers…they play the French horn, in fact. King: (let’s that sink in) No…I think we’ll go and see him, ourselves. Ready my carriage! Princess: Would you care to ride with us, Puss? You can tell me – us – more about the handsome and wealthy Marquis. Puss: My Lady, it would be an honor, but I would do my master a disservice if I did not run ahead to warn him to expect such important guests. King: As you wish, Master Cat. Come daughter. They exit Puss: (Cat bows low until they are off, then, to the audience) Oh boy. Whitby 20 SCENE SIX Puss Takes the bears back to the audience Puss: Thank you, bears. I’ll take the ears. Master! Master! Julien: Here I am, Puss. I trust the King liked his singing bears. Puss: Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. Julien: Good. Good. Puss: Liked them so much that he’s on his way to see you. (moves back up on stage) Julien: What!?! I don’t understand! (follows Puss on stage) Puss: Powerful King. Beautiful Princess. Big Carriage. Fast Horses. Coming Here. Is that clear enough for you? Julien: But, But, you said…what do we do now? Puss: Uh…think quickly, think quickly…Ahah! Julien: What? Puss: Take off your clothes. Julien: That’s your plan? Puss: Yes, take off your clothes and jump in the pond. Julien: Oh, even better. Are you crazy? Puss: Maybe, but listen, I don’t have time to explain. Just do as I tell you. As Grandmother Tabby used to say, “When the master comes holding a club, be ready to hide in the bushes.” (She throws him into the bushes and he immediately jumps back out) Julien: What? Puss: Just hide…back there…and trust me! Julien: Trust me…Trust me…she says. (Julien moves behind the bushes takes off his clothes behind the screen of bushes and throws them out to Puss, who hides them) Puss: Now, stay back there until I call for you, and when the King gets here, just follow my lead. Whitby 21 Julien: Why couldn’t I have gotten a dog? I always wanted a puppy, and the old man gives me a crazy talking cat. Puss: Hush, hush, I think the carriage is coming. (carriage noises intensify) Help, Help, my Master, the Marquis of Carrabas is drowning. (carriage stops and the King and Princess run on) King: It is the Master Cat. Puss in Boots, why do you stop us? Princess: Your handsome master is in trouble? Puss: Forgive me your Majesty, but I should explain, my master, the Marquis, was set upon by robbers as he came to meet you on your journey. The thieves stole his fine carriage and powerful horses, robbed him of his fancy clothes, and even took the many fine gifts of silver and gold that he brought for you. Then they threw him in this mill-pond to drown! Julien: (pokes his head and shoulders above the bushes) Puss I can’t take it anymore…it was very cold in there. Puss: Why Master, you have saved yourself…(through clenched teeth) how convenient. May I present the King of France and the Princess Marie? Julien: Uh…oh dear… King: What was that, young man? Puss: You must forgive my Master, the Marquis, his wits are a bit addled by his near drowning (at this pointed comment, Julien fake coughs a bit), but when he saw that it was your carriage approaching he redoubled his efforts to survive, so that he might just once look upon the beautiful Princess. Princess: Oh…Monsieur Marquis (makes a show of averting her eyes. Julien, embarrassed, sinks so that only his head is showing). King: My dear Marquis, what an ordeal. You must be freezing. You have, of late, given us several interesting gifts. Allow me to show you that your king is no less generous. Cat, go to my carriage, and bring back my own cloak to wrap your Master. Puss: Yes, Sire. King: And my dear, avert your eyes, until we have cover for Monsieur Marquis. Princess: Oui, Papa, of course. (She peers over her fan at the half hidden Marquis) Whitby 22 Puss: Here you are, my Master, the Kings own cloak. Julien: (Puss wraps the cloak around the Marquis who then comes out of the bushes to bow to the King and princess) My many thanks, Your Majesty…Your Highness. It is an honor too great…to meet you at last… King: You have been too little at court, my little Marquis, but we have come to rectify this. As it so happens, we were just on our way to see your lands. Julien: My what? (Puss hits him in the arm) Oh…my lands…they are as nothing compared with your own, Sire…but I would gladly have you see them. Puss: Yes, Your Majesty, Master I will run ahead to prepare the way for you. Princess: Surely, Papa, we have some more suitable clothing for the Marquis in the carriage? King: Yes, I’ll have my footmen find something proper for you, Marquis - a shame about your own carriage. (He calls off stage to the footmen). Francois? Princess: Would you care to take my arm, Monsieur Marquis? Julien: Uh…(Puss coughs) I would be delighted, Your Highness. King: Goodbye, Master Cat. (to the departing couple) Wait for me! All but Puss exit, as the lights change. Whitby 23 SCENE SEVEN Puss: (Moves, once again into the audience, and addresses them in character) While the…Uh…Marquis is getting some, proper clothing, I find myself running ahead, as usual…oh, hello…to this beautiful field of waving wheat. (Up into the audience he travels, first to a group stage left.) Excuse me; I believe that this field here belongs to the magical Ogre? Of course it does. This is perfect. For you, I have good news; the days of the Ogre’s horrible oppression are at an end. We come to save you, and this is all that you need to do. When the King of the land comes to this field (indicates the general area of the audience, stage left) and asks to whom this field belongs, simply tell him that it belongs to the Marquis of Carrabas. Let us practice shall we? To whom does this field belong? The Marquis of Carrabas. Perfect, And you must work, like workers harvesting wheat, when he comes – to show how industrious and worthy you are…very nicely done…(Moves toward the center of the audience still speaking to the “field workers”) When my Master, the Marquis conquers the Ogre, you will be richly rewarded. And look here, what lovely orchards these are, apples so red and ripe. The Ogre owns these too, I’ll bet. Well never fear, we’re here to save you too. Just tell the King, when he asks, that these orchards belong to the Marquis of Carrabas. Let us say it together. To whom does this orchard belong? The Marquis of Carrabas. Yes, excellent. You must also make sure to be picking apples, like so, so that he can see the bounty of the harvest. If you do this, my master, the Marquis will reward you. (moves to the audience on the stage right side) And what of these pastures filled with sheep? Can all of these sheep really belong to the Ogre? Well, never mind, when the King comes you must tell him that they all belong to the Marquis of Carrabas. Let us practice. To whom to these pastures and sheep belong? To the Marquis of Carrabas. Well, that’s not bad, but to be more convincing, you should put more bleat into it – like so: (bleats) The Marquis of Carrabaaaas. Shall we try again? To the Marquis of Carrabaaas. How very…wooly you all sound. If you do this, the Marquis will reward you handsomely when the Ogre is gone. (carriage noises again) Oh…We have taken too long. They are coming…quickly, to your work, remember the harvesting…remember your apple picking, and remember your…sheepiness. (sneaks away, stage right) They enter stage left, as if coming from the carriage. King: Ah, now that we have come to lands that I have never visited before, I must exercise my legs a moment. Let us ask these hard working peasants to tell us to whom these fields belong. (to the audience) This magnificent field of wheat is a credit to its owner and to the hard workers we find here. Tell me peasants, whose lovely property is this? (The Marquis of Carrabas) Really? Are we come to your lands so soon, my dear Marquis? Marquis: Uh…well…I have so many fields…and I didn’t want to seem to boast, Your Majesty. Princess: And he is so modest Father, as well as handsome. Whitby 24 King: Quite. Let us continue our journey. But don’t be shy, my dear boy. If all of your lands are as rich as these you’ve the right to show off a little. (they continue to the center of the audience) And what a beautiful orchard…what are all of these people doing here? Princess: They seem to be picking fruit – apples, Papa. King: Apples, really, I have never seen them so large and juicy. Tell me dear subjects, to whom do these orchards belong? (The Marquis of Carrabas) Princess: But they are magnificent. My dear Marquis, why didn’t you tell us they were yours? Marquis: Forgive me, Your Highness, I have only recently acquired them, and they still surprise me when I see them. King: Indeed, they are surprising. Keep up the good work there. (they continue to the stage right audience) And now what beautiful pastures we come to. And what kind of creatures are these? Princess: Why they are cute fluffy little lambs, Papa. King: Quite, especially that one there. I wonder to whom they belong? (The Marquis of Carrabaaas) Why how extraordinary! Monsieur Marquis, how silent you remain on these things. I would think that with possessions so remarkable, you would care to remark on them from time to time. Marquis: With due respect, Your Highness, why speak for the sheep when we have taught the sheep to speak for themselves. King: Oh yes…Ha…I see! Well, I can see that modesty is indeed your most abundant virtue. Perhaps now we can go back to the carriage. All of this walking has made me ready to see your Palace. Princess: I am sure, my dear Marquis, that your Palace will truly surprise us! Marquis: I’m sure that it will Your Highness – (to audience) I know I’ll be surprised. King: What was that? Marquis: Nothing, Your Majesty. Nothing at all. Excellent work, everyone! They exit back the way they came. Carriage noises resume. Whitby 25 SCENE EIGHT The Ogre and all of his incarnations are done as shadow puppets projected onto a screen in the back. Cat enters stage right as the King and company exit stage left. Puss: And now, the palace – the Ogre’s palace. It’s the weak part of my plan, really, and the part that makes me think that a nice job chasing mice in a drafty old barn is really more suited to my talents after all. And why do I have to meet the Ogre, anyway? It’s so un-catlike, in the first place, and well it is the new Marquis who will benefit most handsomely if I can pull it off. One never knows how to treat with an ogre in his own house, particularly when you want his own house to become your own house. But as my Grandmother Tabby used to say, “Never tell a bulldog your real name.” I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but Grandmother Tabby was always saying things like that…Well, better keep my wits about me. It smells awful! I’ll just get on with it, shall I? Hello? Anybody home Ogre: Yes? Ooh look, a kitty cat! What brings you to the palace of the Great Ogre, Cat in Boots? Puss: Puss in Boots, actually. Forgive me, sir, are you the master of this house? Ogre: I am. Puss: Then you are just the one I have come to see! Ogre: Good…I love to eat…I mean…entertain visitors. Why don’t you come in? Puss: Gladly, sir, but first, can you tell me, why sir, does a person as obviously wealthy as you, have to answer his own door? Ogre: Well, I can’t keep servants around, on account of I get hungry and eat them, or they run away on account of this horrible smell. Puss: Why, sir, that is preposterous. I have an excellent sense of smell, and your smell is quite like daffodils after a spring rain. Ogre: That’s odd; I try so hard to get just the right stink. Puss: What I mean to say is that for an Ogre you smell especially awful. Ogre: But you said daffodils. Puss: Did I? Please forgive me. I meant dunghills, not daffodils, dunghills after a spring rain. Whitby 26 Ogre: That’s better…in that case would you like to come inside for tea. I have plenty of room on my plate…I mean at my table. Puss: Ah, how much I would, but dear sir, I am only passing through your fair country, and I am here for only one purpose. Ogre: To be my breakfast? Puss: No, No, I really would be hardly a mouthful for someone like you. No, actually, I had heard that you had incredible magical powers, and I had to see them for myself. Ogre: Magical Powers? That is correct! I am the most powerful of Ogre wizards! Puss: Are you now? Do you mean that you are the very Ogre who is said to be able to turn himself into any creature he chooses? Ogre: Aye! Any creature! My powers are beyond your comprehension little pussycat. Better just come in and be my midmorning snack. Boots and all. Puss: But I am afraid, Mr. Ogre, that now that I see you, I can’t believe that your powers are really that great. Ogre: Oh. It’s a demonstration you want…well, for that you’re going to have to come into my parlor. Puss: Of course…it would be a…pleasure. Puss moves behind the screen to seem to be in the scene with the puppets, projected from farther back. Ogre: And now, little kitty, stand back and you’ll get more than you bargained for…(turns into the elephant) Puss: An enormous Elephant. That is impressive. Ogre: Of course it is. You have not seen even the tiniest part of my powers. Puss: Really. There’s more? Ogre: Aye. This is one of my particular favorites. (turns into the lion) Puss: Yeeeow. What a surprise indeed. (cowers a bit, trying to keep her wits about her) Ogre: Now, Mr. Puss in Boots, I’m so impressive, I even make a better CAT than you do. (laughs) now, where were we…oh, yes, this is the part where I eat you up. Whitby 27 Puss: Oh you needn’t bother Mr. Ogre. I’m not worth your trouble. Ogre: Oh, I insist. It’s tradition. I always eat everyone who comes to call. Puss: Well. If it’s tradition…but before you eat me, at least tell me one thing. Ogre: What is it, I’m a very hungry ogre. Puss: How can you claim to be all powerful if you can only lions and elephants? That’s false advertising. And, besides, you still smell like an Ogre. Ogre: Well, what do you want me to do? Play the nose flute? I can do that too. Puss: No, No, please stop…I’m…well, I have to admit that I am disappointed; anybody can do lions and elephants – the big stuff is easy. No what I was hoping to see is something small. But if all you can do is the big stuff…well, you’d just better get on with the eating part…I’m ready. Ogre: No…I can do something smaller. Do you mean like a leopard or wolf or something? Puss: No. Too easy. I mean really small…but I understand if you can’t… Ogre: No I can, I can…you mean like this? (changes into a penguin) Puss: Is that a penguin? Ogre: Honk! Puss: No…no…I mean really small…like say…a mouse. Ogre: Oh that’s easy for a powerful Ogre like me. Puss: Well, “seeing is believing,” as they say; And I won’t believe it until I see you do it. Ogre: OK, just give me a minute. Now you’re in for it! (changes into the mouse) Hah, I told you I’m all-powerful. What do you think of that Mr. Smarty Boots? Puss: I think, Mr. Ogre, that you look quite delicious. Ogre: Yeah! I thought so…WHAT? Uh Oh. RC Mouse runs out and spins around the stage a bit before heading off stage. Puss gives a take to the audience and follows it off. Returns with tail in his mouth. Whitby 28 Puss: And that’s breakfast…Yuck…still tastes like Ogre. (Carriage noises, King, Marquis, and Princess enter. Puss rushes to greet them with a low bow) Ah…just in time…Your Majesty, Your Highness…Master…I welcome you to the Palace of the Marquis of Carrabas. King: My dear Marquis, with so many lands, and such a beautiful palace, I should have come to visit long ago. Marquis of Carrabas, it will be your own fault if you don’t become my son-in-law! The King and the Princess bookend the Marquis, waiting for his answer. Marquis: Your Majesty…Your Highness…I accept! Puss: And now I’m sure you’d all like to see the Palace…right this way… Puss ushers them into the palace and they all walk behind the screen to become shadow puppets and to reinforce the “place” of the palace. Princess: Smells a bit like ogre… All exit briefly as lights change Whitby 29 EPILOGUE Puss begins and the others join him from off stage. Puss: And so the tale ends with fortunes gained, true love found, and evil vanquished. Princess: The Marquis of Carrabas…once Julien the Miller’s son, was married to the Princess Marie. King: Her Father, the King, liked the new Marquis and his country home so much, that he rarely went home to his own Palace, but left the running of things to his new son-in-law. Marquis: Who in turn left most things up to his clever cat. Puss: And as for the Master Cat, she now has eighteen pairs of boots just like these, and only runs after mice for her own entertainment. King: As with all tales of fortune, this one has a moral: Take fame and fortune as they come…unless you can get them some other way. Princess: I prefer the one that goes: Youth and appearance can still make a difference in matters of the heart…especially when accompanied by enormous amounts of cash. Marquis: The trust of a friend is a gift that does not often go unrewarded. You can always trust a cat, to be a cat. Puss: Or, as my Grandmother Tabby used to say, “Sometimes your own saucer of milk is better than someone else’s cow.” All: What? Puss: It’s useless to dream of someone else’s gifts if you don’t trust in your own wits. All: And now our tale is told. All bow Whitby 30 Whitby 31 Wolf Tales: A Folk Tale in Sheep's Clothing Written for the Treehouse Troupe by Wes Whitby from the traditional folk tales This play combines three of the world’s many wolf stories into one, lending to all three the same villainous wolf. Told using “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” as the frame story, the other stories are told in flashback, using the boy as a character in each tale. The action is meant to be performed as one continuous scene; even the scene changes are written as a part of the story. CAST The Wolf The Boy a.k.a. Tom the Shepherd/Woodcutter/Brick Pig Red’s Mother/Dear Sweet Grandmother/Villager #1/Stick Pig Little Red Riding Hood/Villager #2/Straw Pig SCENE (The Wolf Pads on Stage, looks about, notices the audience, and pads down center for a chat and a song. He is carrying a guitar to accompany his song). Wolf: Hah. There you are - all of you. You're here to hear a story again. Well, I won't say I wasn't expecting you. It happens just about every time I leave my den. I run into people waiting for a story. Isn't it always the same? People love those folk tales and fairy tales…well, don't you? Yes, yes, well, so do I! I admit it. Adventure stories – you know the kind where the brave hero overcomes all odds and defends the town – love that kind. Or romantic tales where the princess in her beautiful dress, it's always a beautiful dress, does the dishes, sweeps the floor and then still gets to dance all night with the handsome prince…yeah, lovely. But you're not here to listen to that kind of story, are you? Oh no, you've come for that other kind of story; the kind where I have to play the bad guy again…typical. Do you know how many stories involve me, the wolf, in some kind of villainous antagonistic role? Well, I'll tell you I've lost count. And frankly, it's not fair. You think you know all about me. I mean, what do you really know about wolves? What…you can howl like a wolf? (gets the audience to howl with him) Uggh is that what you think we sound like? Well no wonder everyone gets chills when they hear that noise. No, No, it’s much more melodious than that. Let me show you what we’re really saying. Repeat after me: Hoo-wee. (Hoo-wee) Hoo-wah-ooo (Hoo-wah-ooo) Hoo-wee (Hoo-wee) Hoo-wah-ooo (Hoo-wah-ooo) Whitby 32 Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally (Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally) Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah (Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally) Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, (Hoo-la-lah) Well, that’s more like it; absolutely melodious. You know, people assume, because of those stories, that wolves are only up to no good. Well you can't always believe what you hear in your fairy tales. I might be a very nice person if you got to know me, but no. Well, I can't say as I blame you. It's been that way from the very beginning. Plays and Sings verse of “The Howling Song” It started the day that I was born My mother left me all alone. Sad, to end up cold and wet; No one's lapdog, no one's pet. Just an orphan, not yet grown, Had to set out on my own. Like to see how sweet you'd act Without your home, without your pack. Chorus: Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah You know…it's a sorry, shameful state of affairs. The way wolves are treated in your literature. Why even your cultural idiomatic sayings make my kind out to be the bad guys. Instead of saying, "I'm saving money" people say "I'm trying to keep the wolves from the door" and the wolves at the door are the evil creditors coming to take the money away. Staying safe is "keeping the wolves at bay." If you put someone in danger, without protection, you "throw" them "to the wolves." The cynical, anti-heroic rebel who prefers the dangerous life and doing things his or her own way is called a "lone wolf." When an Whitby 33 enemy is disguised as a friend, they call him "A wolf in sheep's clothing." A greedy person who eats too fast or too much is "wolfing" down her food. When someone lies or raises a false alarm it's called "crying wolf!" When a musical instrument consistently plays a bad or unwanted note…it's called a "wolf note." And why is this (whistles) called a wolf whistle? It doesn't even sound like me. But there is one idiom that I do agree with. If someone is really – I mean really – hungry, they are “hungry like a wolf.” Now that describes me in rich detail. Here I am, a poor, hungry, orphan of a creature. One of your "lone wolves" as it were, out here, leading my oh so lonely life, trying to do my best to just survive, and still people criticize me just because for trying to keep my stomach from rumbling. I have to employ all my skill Just to keep my belly filled Are you telling me its wrong to eat? Just because I crave fresh…meat? Chorus: Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah And you, what about you? Usually people don't even take the time to get to know me. I bet you don't even know my name…well, do you? I thought not. Some have even called me the "Big, Bad, Wolf." Thanks Disney. They called me that in a 1933 cartoon, and well the name just stuck. What's that about. Big? I am a perfectly average sized wolf, I'll have you know. What? Does this cape make me look fat or something? Don't answer that. And Bad? That's just a slur on my character…it's slander; I'm no worse than any other wolf in my situation. Better to say that I'm perfectly respectable for a wolf. Though I do admit that Big Bad Wolf does sound catchier than Average-Sized Perfectly Respectable for a Wolf Wolf, so I suppose you can call me Big Bad Wolf if you must. People don't even know my name. They still mistrust me all the same And still assume I'm doin' wrong They shudder when they hear my song. Sing it with me! Whitby 34 Chorus: Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoo-wee, Hoo-wee Hoo-wah-ooh, Hoo-wah-ooh Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoodle-alley Hoodle-ally Hoo-la-lah, Hoo-la-lah Arooooooooo! And do you know the worst part? You all know the stories. People call me big and bad, but when does the wolf ever win? Huh? Not often, I’ll tell you. I always end up on the hungry end. Am I right, or what? Just once…just this once I’d like to win. Ah…here's that boy…comes here every day…brings the sheep…? Maybe…just maybe today I’ll get what I’m after…well, never you mind. Just do me a favor – eh? Don’t tell nobody about this little conversation. Just keep it between us. Yah, thanks, you’re a bunch of pals. He leaves the guitar on stage and exits. The Boy enters, alone, looks around then calls after the sheep. Boy: Here sheep. Here sheepie sheepie sheepie. Exits again, pulling or carrying the flock of sheep, flute under his arm. Boy: Good sheep…good sheep…settle down, settle down. Looks around and breathes deeply of the fine mountain air. Boy: Yes…this forest glade will do just fine. You just run and play now, and I’ll sit here and keep watch for DANGER….Well…go on now…no? Such subdued sheep…Well, I don’t blame you. We are very close to the forest after all…just stay here with me then if it makes you feel better…right. Well…I’ll just tootle around my flute then, shall I? The boy begins to play the flute, a merry tune, the wolf sneaks in with leaves, sheep’s clothing, etc.…back and forth across the stage. The last time he comes in with a flute and plays duet with the boy. At the culmination of their song the happy team stare at each other for a few beats. Suddenly, the boy reacts. Boy: oh…you're a wolf. A w-w-w-olf! There was something I was supposed to do i-if the w-wolf came by…uh, uh, uh, oh yeah! I was supposed to yell, “wolf”…yeah, yeah… Whitby 35 Gets ready and even begins to yell Wooool…but the wolf shouts him down. Wolf: WAIT WAIT WAIT! What are you doing? Boy: I’m yelling “Wolf!” at the top of my lungs. He begins to yell again but is once again shouted down by the Wolf. Wolf: NO NO WAIT! Why would you do a thing like that? Boy: It’s my job. Wolf: To yell “Wolf” at the top of your lungs? Boy: Yes, I mean No. I mean that’s part of it, but… Wolf: Tell me exactly what it is that you are supposed to do. Boy: Well, I am supposed to stand here and watch the sheep all day, and if a wolf comes to steal the sheep then I’m supposed to yell “Wolf” and all of the villagers will come running to save them. Wolf: Say that last part again… Boy: The part about the villagers? Wolf: Before that… Boy: What…if a wolf comes to steal the sheep I am supposed to yell “Wolf” and… Wolf: I see, I see. I think I understand the source of our misunderstanding… Boy: You do? Wolf: Yes…you are laboring under the misconception that I am here to abscond with your woolly charges and repair with them to my domicile where I will willfully dispatch them and consume them for my evening repast. Boy: …huh? Wolf: You think I want to eat your sheep. Boy: Don’t you? Wolf: Nooooo. I wouldn’t eat these sheep. Whitby 36 Boy: Why, what’s wrong with them? Wolf: Well, from where I’m standing they are just about the thinnest sheep I’ve ever seen. I would have to be truly desperate to want to eat those sheep. Boy: Ah. Wolf: And besides, they don’t appear to be very healthy. Boy: No? What do you mean? Wolf: Well, they aren’t exactly…vigorous, are they? Is that all they ever do…just stand there? Boy: Yeah…all day…sometimes it really creeps me out… Both stare at the sheep. Wolf: Anyway, the point is, my dear…what’s your name? Boy: The Boy. Wolf: Huh? Boy: Uh…everyone just calls me “The boy,” as in, “The boy who watches the sheep,” “the boy who sleeps in Widow Smith’s barn,” “the boy who always forgets his manners and burps in public” You know…the boy. Wolf: Well, you seem a little old to be called boy? (boy shrugs). What did your mother call you? Boy: Tom. Wolf: Then I’ll call you that. Tom: Pleased to meet you. Wolf: Yes, well that’s kind-of my point, Tom, you see you just assumed that I was after your sheep when all I really wanted was to make your acquaintance. Tom: To make my what? No thanks, I 'm having peanut butter and jelly later. Wolf: No, you charming child, to make your acquaintance, to get to know you better, to become your friend, as it were. Whitby 37 Tom: Oh…well then I really think I’d better cry “Wolf,” after all (he begins to call WOOOOOL…). Wolf: WAIT…WAIT…Tommy, Tommy, Tom…why? I’ve already suggested that your sheep aren’t worth eating. Tom: Yeah. Wolf: And that I’m only here to get to know you. Tom: Yeah. Wolf: Then why… Tom: Oh, well, I’m no dummy. I heard all about that other kid you met in the forest. They say you wanted to be her friend but then… Wolf: Wait, wait, wait, who? Tom: The little girl…with the red cape…the villagers said that… Wolf: Red? Little Red Riding Hood? Are you talking about her? Tom: Well…yeah. Wolf: Oh, you’ve got it all wrong…What have you heard? Tom: Well, I don’t really know the whole story, but I heard something about a basket of goodies and her grandma’s house and… Wolf: You don’t know the whole story…and you’re willing to jump to conclusions? Tom, tom, tom…that hurts, that really hurts…and it was looking like the start of a very…interesting friendship. But every time I start to make a friend people start overreacting, bringing up my misunderstood past. (Wolf begins to sob) It’s just not fair. I really am a nice person, really. Tom: Oh…no…I’m sorry…you’re right. You seem like a nice…wolf. Wolf: Oh, you’re just saying that… Tom: No, no…really. Wolf: It’s not your fault…I mean, we’re strangers, you don’t even know my name yet. Tom: Aren’t you the Big Bad Wolf? Whitby 38 Wolf: (to audience) See what I mean? (renewed sobbing) Nooooo, noooo, how unfair, I wish people would stop calling me that. Tom: Oh, I’m sorry, what is your name. Wolf: Ulf. Tom: Ulf? The Wolf? Wolf: Yeah. It means wolf in old German. Tom: Oh…well, see…now I know your name, so it’s all right. We’re not strangers anymore. Wolf: You mean you won’t cry “Wolf?” Tom: Yes. I mean no, I won’t. Wolf: Promise? Tom: I promise. Wolf immediately stops crying. Wolf: Great. Where were we? Tom: Little Red Riding Hood? Wolf: Yeah, that, well it’s a simple story really. It starts with a little girl lost in the woods. Walk with me. I’ll tell you all about it. Tom: What about my sheep? Wolf: Oh…them…leave ‘em. They’ll be fine. After all, what can hurt them? You’re with the wolf…Anyway, it all started the day Little Red’s dear sweet Grandmother got sick…her busy mother asked the little girl to take a simple basket of goodies to the poor ailing woman. Wolf and Tom exit stage right as Red and her mother enter stage left. Mother: O.K. Red, one more time. Your dear sweet Grandmother is ill. Red: What? Ill? Mother: That means she’s sick, dear. Whitby 39 Red: Ohhhhh. Is it contagious? Mother: Uh…I don’t know…but that’s not important…much…what matters is that you take this basket of goodies to your dear sweet grandmother. Red: Ooooh, what’s in the basket? Mother: Goodies. Red: What kind of Goodies? Mother: Good ones…for your dear sweet grandmother. Red: Oh…can I have some? Mother: Maybe…you’ll have to ask your dear sweet grandmother when you get there. Now stop asking so many questions. The important thing is that you need to take these goodies to your dear sweet grandmother who lives on the other side of the deep dark woods. Red: O.K., how do I get there? Mother: It’s very simple, you just take the path through the deep dark woods and it will lead you to your dear sweet grandmother’s house. Now goodbye dear; you’d better be going or you’ll never be back home before supper. Remember, stay on the path, and don’t talk to strangers. Mother exits. Red: Oh, that’s easy…I never talk to strangers…I don’t even know any! Red begins to walk through the woods. She makes a circuitous path through and around the stage props, picking a flower here, noticing a leaf there. After a few moments the wolf enters and observes. Wolf: Little girl in a little red cape, Hoo-wah-oo, Hoo-wah-oo, Lost in the forest, Hoo-La-La Hoo-La-La. Pardon me miss…but you seem to be lost in the woods. Red: I do? I am? Wow! That was quick! I only just started!...You wouldn’t think you could get lost in such a small woods! Wolf: Yes, well it is deep and dark. Now perhaps I could help you. After all I am a native resident of this foresty retreat. Red: Huh? Whitby 40 Wolf: I live here. Red: Oh…well maybe you could help me. Wait a minute – are you a stranger? (gives him an appraising look) Wolf: Me? A stranger? Certainly not! Red: Oh, good, my Mother told me not to talk to strangers. Wolf: Wise woman. Now if I’m to help you, I’m should really know where you are going. Red: I’m taking a basket of goodies to my dear sweet grandmother. She’s ick…imp…ig… Wolf: Ill? Red: She’s sick. Wolf: Ah…and what’s in the basket. Red: Goodies. Wolf: I see. What kind of goodies? Red: I don’t really know. There could be anything in there. It’s a pretty big basket. Wolf: So it seems. Well I’d better help you get that big basket to your dear sweet grandmother right away. Which house is hers again? Red: Well, my mother said that it was the cottage at the end of the path through the deep dark woods. Wolf: Oh…that cottage. Well my dear you are in luck! It just so happens that your dear sweet Grandmother is a good friend of mine. I would be ever so happy to deliver that big basket of random goodies to your grandmother for you – if you would just hand it over to my care. Then you wouldn’t have to take the trip through these deep dark woods at all. Red: Oh no. My mother said that I couldn’t have any of the goodies until after I delivered the basket to my dear sweet grandmother. So you see, I have to get there. Besides, I haven’t seen my dear sweet grandmother in such a long time. I’ll probably not even recognize her! Wolf: Ah, interesting…very interesting. Well, little girl in the big red cloak, it just so happens that I know a shortcut to your dear sweet grandmother’s cottage. Whitby 41 Red: You do? Wolf: Why yes, it’s just this way… Red: This way? I could swear my dear sweet grandmother’s cottage was this way. Wolf: No, no, no, see how turned around you’ve become. Red: But…I think I see it over there, through the trees. Wolf: Uh…no, I’m pretty sure that’s not it…that house belongs to…one of the three little pigs. Red: Who? Wolf: Nobody. That’s not your dear sweet grandmother’s house. Red: Really? That looks like my dear sweet grandmother waving at me through the window. Wolf: No, no, no, trust me dear; I know the fastest, safest way to get you where you are going. Just trust Mr. Wolf. Now first, you travel down this dry riverbed and out the double doors… Red: K… Wolf: Then straight through the village and out the other side… Red: Kaaay… Wolf: Turn left where Old Man Johnson’s Barn used to be… Red: Kaaaaaaay… Wolf: Then it’s around the forest, across the ravine, over the lone green hill, through the noxious nettles and right up to your dear sweet granny’s back door. Red:…Mmmm…Listen Mr. Wolf…are you sure? That doesn’t sound like a shortcut to me; and it sure doesn’t sound much like the directions my mother gave me. Wolf: Trust me dear child, if you take that…shortcut…you are certain to arrive at your dear sweet grandmother’s house right on time. Red: O.K. whatever you say, Mr. Wolf. Dear Sweet Grandmother, here I come. Wolf: Goodbye now, Red, and do tell your grandmother hello from her dear friend Wolf. Whitby 42 Red exits, wolf rubs his paws and heads stage right to exit. Wolf: Dear Sweet Grandma, Hoo-wah-oo, Hoo-wah-oo, Basket of Goodies, Hoo-La-La, Hoo-La-La Ah-roooooOOOOO! Wolf exits, stage right. A moment later, Wolf and Tom enter carrying a bed down center. Tom: So, what I don’t understand is why you sent her on that shortcut. It didn’t seem like a faster way to me. Wolf: Well now, son, faster doesn’t always mean safer. Tom: Whaddaya mean? Wolf: I mean, dearest Thomas, that it was very important for that little girl to arrive exactly on time, and if it took just a little longer than she expected before her little reunion with her dear sweet grandmother, well that was just perfect for my plans… Tom: What? Wolf: Uh…my plans to keep her safe, from danger. Tom: Oh…I understand…kind-of… Wolf: Well, just pay attention, and I’ll explain. Tom: Is this how she had things arranged when you came. Wolf: Yes, perfect. Now, Little Red’s dear sweet Grandmother was waiting inside the house when I arrived. Wolf and Tom exit stage left. Granny’s house lights change as Granny enters through the book – bathroom door. Granny: Well now, that’s odd, I could have sworn I saw Little Red Riding Hood coming down the path toward my cottage, but by the time I got out there she was gone. I must be sicker than I thought…I’m starting to have hallucinations, what's in that cough syrup…well, no matter…I’d better get ready for bed. Let’s see, there’s my night cap…extra pillow…yes… Wolf knocks on the door – or – yells "Dear Sweet Grandmother" in a high pitched voice. Granny: Oh maybe that’s Little Red now, with that basket of goodies, I can’t wait. Wolf knocks again – or – yells "Dear Sweet Grandmother" in a high pitched voice. Whitby 43 Granny: Come in dear. (Wolf enters, Granny is taken aback) Oh, dear…I must be hallucinating. It seems like a wolf has just come into my tiny cottage. (she gives a little self-mocking laugh). Wolf: (bowing) You are Dear Sweet Grandmother, I presume? Granny: Y-esss? Imaginary talking wolf, I presume? Wolf: What? Granny: Oh, nothing, I’m just not feeling myself today. What can I do for you Mr. Wolf? Wolf: Well, I’m terribly sorry but I’m going to have to stuff you in a closet. Granny: This hallucination just keeps getting weirder and weirder. Sure, why not, stuff me in the closet. Should I ask why? Wolf: Uh…no? Frankly I didn’t think this part would be this easy. Granny: No? Am I doing it wrong? Is there something else I should do? Wolf: No, no, this is perfect, you are nothing if not helpful…Now just…get into the closet. They move to the book and the wolf opens the bathroom door Granny: Oh no! I am not going in there…and you can’t make me…hallucination or not. Wolf: May I ask why not? Granny: That’s not the closet…It’s the bathroom! Wolf: It is? (he pokes his head inside) It is. Granny: This is the closet. Granny climbs into the closet and closes the door. Wolf stands a bit nonplussed. Wolf: Well…that was easy – weird, but easy. She must really be sick…I hope it’s not contagious. Now what else did I need? Ah, this is perfect. (puts nightcap on) Oh, Granny. (knocks on the closet door. Granny sticks her head out of the top shutters) Granny: Yes. Whitby 44 Wolf: Sorry to be a nuisance, but since I’m going to pretend to be you, do you mind if I borrow your glasses? Granny: Not at all. Not helping me today anyway. Now I see a wolf wearing my night cap. (hands the wolf the glasses). Wolf: Thanks. Granny: And you might as well take this (shoves pink robe out through the hole). Wolf: Oh…thanks. Granny: Is there anything else. Wolf: Well, now that you mention it, would you mind, terribly not making any noise. I’m trying to be tricky, and sometimes a lot of chatter throws me off my game. Granny: Oh, certainly, not a sound. I’ll be quieter than a mouse. She closes the closet as Wolf puts on the robe and makes his way to the bed and under the covers, Lights come up briefly in audience as Red enters audience right. Red: Foo! …some shortcut…I had to go through a swamp…I don’t think that wolf knew what he was talking about…oh, but here’s my dear sweet Grandmother’s house after all. I hope she’ll be happy to finally get this basket of goodies. Dear Sweet Grandmother, it’s Little Red Riding Hood. May I come in? Wolf: Come in my dear, your poor dear sweet grandmother is here in bed. Come on in and let me get a good look at you. Red: Grandma – is that you? Wolf: I'm sorry it's kind of dim in here. Red: No, it's all right, I can see just fine. Wolf: No really, it is quite hard to see Red: No, I can see just fine, really. Wolf: I said its kind of dim. Red: (as lights dim abruptly) Oh…it's kind of dim in here. Wolf: You're not kiddin’. Whitby 45 Red: What? Wolf: Nothin'…my dear. Did you have a nice journey through the deep, dark, woods. Red: Well, actually it took a lot longer than I expected cause I met this big grey wolf and he showed me a shortcut that was really a long cut that took me around the forest and through a swamp that he didn’t tell me about but I went anyway cause he said he wasn’t a stranger and that he was your friend and that I should say hi to you when I got here and anyway was that true, are you really friends with that wolf? Wolf: Oh ho ho, it’s the honest truth. That wolf and I are closer than you can imagine. Red: Oh…good…cause I sure thought that I was going to get lost and that I wouldn’t find my way here but even though my shoes got wet, I made it though I was sure I saw you before but the wolf said that it was just some pig and Dear Sweet Grandmother…what big eyes you have! Wolf: Oh, yeah, they probably look bigger because I borrowed these glasses from your dear sweet… Red: What?!? Wolf: I mean, all the better to see you with, my dear. Red: Oh…well, anyway, so Mama said that you were sick and that I should take this basket of goodies to you but I really should have stayed on the path like Mama said, cause then I probably would have been here a whole lot sooner if I had listened to her and Dear Sweet Grandmother…what big ears you have… Wolf: What? Oh…(tucks an ear up in his mop cap) All the better to hear you with, my dear. Red: Oh…Kay…and anyway, so I brought you this big basket of goodies and I really wanted to get here soon because Mama said that I couldn’t open up the basket until I got here and so I don’t even know what’s in here and so we could probably open up the basket togeth…(wolf is panting and reaching for the basket through the previous speech) Hey…Dear Sweet Grandmother, what big teeth you have… Wolf: All the better to eat you with, my dear… Red backs away as wolf begins to get out of bed… Red: Hey, I’m beginning to think you aren’t my Dear Sweet Grandmother after all… Wolf: Ya think… Whitby 46 Red: Yah…you’re that silly old wolf… Red and Wolf begin to circle the bed, Red clutching the basket protectively. Wolf: You are smart…now hand over that basket of goodies, and then we can talk a little bit about what I might have for desert… Red: Oh, no! These goodies are for my dear sweet Grandmother. Where is my dear sweet Grandmother, anyway? Granny exits the closet with a flourish. Granny: Here I am, Little Red. Isn’t this strange. Are you imagining a wolf running around my bed too? Red: Dear Sweet Grandmother, this is a real wolf. Granny: I agree, he sure looks real, I mean, look at that hairy face (pats incredulous wolf on the cheek). But wolves don’t usually wear clothes dear. During this next, Wolf continues his attempts to get the basket while Red attempts to convince Granny that the wolf is real and Granny attempts to analyze her “hallucination.” Wolf: Give me the basket. Red: See, Dear Sweet Grandmother, he’s trying to steal the basket of goodies and maybe worse. Granny: And look, he’s even wearing a bathrobe, who ever heard of a wolf in a bathrobe. Wolf: Hand it over little girl… Red: Dear Sweet Grandmother, he's pretending to be you, but this is a real wolf. Granny: (looking behind the wolf) Well look at that, he even has a tail, this hallucination is so detailed. Red: GRANNY! This is no hallucinamation! This is the Real Big Bad Wolf. Granny: Really! Wolf: Really! And I am very, frustrated, and very, very hungry now hand over the… Red and Granny: (looking at each other) RUN!!! Whitby 47 They begin running the in opposite directions around the bed and the wolf is unable to decide which way to run. He stands and watches as they run. Red and Granny: (running all over the place) HELP!!! HELP! HELP!!! Wolf: Oh for crying out loud… Tom: Wait, Wait, Wait. Tom enters and the action on the stage freezes. The wolf steps out of the action for their dialogue. Wolf: What? Tom: Well, I heard that you ate them up. Wolf: Nope. Tom: No? Wolf: Nope. There was no eating. Tom: You didn’t eat the grandmother? Wolf: Nope. Tom: You didn’t eat the Little Girl? Wolf: Nope. Tom: No eating at all? Wolf: No eating of any kind. Tom: Why not? Wolf: That’s my question…you see it never works out that way for the wolf, but I always get the blame anyway. Tom: So what did happen, then…to stop the eating? Wolf: What always happens, someone hears the cries for help and comes to the rescue. Wolf is dressing up Tom as they talk. Whitby 48 Tom: From deep in the woods? Someone heard the cries for help? Wolf: It’s a small wood. There, that should do it, now where was I? Tom: Um…about here…(helps place and pose the wolf). And I’m… Wolf: Over there. Tom: Right… please continue… Red and Granny: (running all over the place) HELP!!! HELP! HELP!!! Tom makes a dramatic and heroic entrance Tom: Hah hah! I am a friendly…? Wolf: Woodcutter… Tom: Right…sorry…I am a friendly woodcutter who just happened to be in the neighborhood. I heard your cries for help and I have come to save the day…with my axe. Red and Granny: Our hero! Red: This wolf is trying to eat us! Wolf: What? Granny: Won’t you please chase him away? Tom: Away, foul beast, leave this forest forever or face my axe. Granny: Well done, young man. Won’t you stay and share this basket of goodies with us. Wolf: Figures… Red: We’ll just go to the kitchen and get some plates… Grandma: Right this way dear. Red: I thought that was your bathroom. Granny: It’s both, dear. Red: Ewww. Whitby 49 Red and Granny disappear into the bathroom door of the book. Wolf and Tom de-costume, place their costumes on the bed, and prepare to move the bed offstage. Tom: So the hero came when they called for help. Wolf: That’s what I said. Tom: But I still have a couple of questions. It still seems to me like you were the bad guy. Wolf: See, that’s what I mean, I always get the blame. Did I eat anybody in that story? Tom: No, but didn’t you want to, I mean, are you telling me that all you wanted was the basket of goodies? Wolf: Mostly. But that’s all water under the bridge. Tom: Did you ever find out what was in the basket? Wolf: Never did. Goodies, I guess. Tom: Well, you’re right, it doesn’t seem exactly fair. But you have to admit that the story makes you hard to trust. Wolf: Through no fault of my own. But have you considered, Tommy boy, that you and I really have more in common than you think? Tom: Whaddaya mean? Wolf: Well, think about it; alone in the wilderness, left to face the dangers of the world without a friend, without a companion, with no help at all? Tom: That’s not true. I have the sheep to keep me company. Wolf: Oh yeah, they’re a barrel of laughs. Tom: You know what I mean, and if I need help the villagers will come runnin’. All I have to do is call. Wolf: Well isn’t that the crux of it? Tom: Crux? Wolf: Yeah, yeah, that’s it, I mean, you already know I’m harmless, but just suppose someone really dangerous came along…how do you know that they will even come when Whitby 50 you call? You say I’m hard to trust, but how can you trust the people of the village if you haven’t ever even tested them. Tom: Tested them? Wolf: Tried them? Checked on them to see if they would actually do what they say they’d do. Tom: Well, how would I test them? Wolf: Well, that’s easy; you just cry “wolf” during a safe moment when there is no actual wolf around. Tom: Well, you’re around. Wolf: Oh, I can make myself scarce, don’t you worry. Whaddaya say? It couldn’t hurt, and it would make it a lot easier to trust them next time. After, all, It’s your right to know whether or not they would come to your aid. Besides, haven’t you always wanted to try it? Tom: Yeah…yeah! And I have a right to know. I’ll test them…but you’d better hide, you don’t want them to really find you here. Wolf: Ohhhh no. I’ll just hide myself over here. They’ll never see me. Go on now…cry your best. Tom: O.K. here goes…WOLF!!! WOOOOLF!!! WOOOOOOLFFFFF!!! Townsfolk come running with farm implements at hand they run all over the place looking for the wolf as Tom looks on, a goofy grin on his face. Finally they come to him, breathless, asking the important questions. V1: Well? Tom: Well! V2: Where’s the wolf? V1: We’ve searched all over. Tom: And a good job you did too! You passed the test with flying colors! V2: What? Tom: You passed the… Whitby 51 V1: We heard you, what do you mean? Tom: Well how did I know you would drop everything and come running like that If I hadn’t tested you? V2: Do you mean that there is no wolf? That you called us up here for nothing? Tom: Yup! Thanks. It was very entertaining watching you run around like that. Good job. V2: Why, you, little… V1: Now now, I think I understand…a test, huh? Well, you’ve had your fun and we’ve passed your test, now don’t call us again, unless there’s a real wolf here, O.K.? Tom: OKAY! Thanks again…and congratulations. V2: Yeah, yeah. Villagers exit stage left as the wolf comes on. Wolf: Well, well. That was impressive. Tom: Yes, indeed, I told you they would come. Wolf: So it would seem, so it would seem. And best of all, they looked really funny running around like that looking for a wolf that wasn’t there. Tom: Yeah…that was kinda funny. Wolf: And were they intense, or what? That was hilarious…I mean the looks on their faces? Tom: Yeah…yeah…they sure looked worried. Wolf: Yeah...that was some trick you played on them… Tom: Yeah…trick? I thought you said “test.” Wolf: Well, it was both, Tom, but only a clever lad like yourself could have made it such a very tricky kind of test. Tom: Yeah…guess you're right. It’s a good thing I’m so clever or that wouldn’t have worked out as well as it did. Whitby 52 Wolf: Yeah, you’re pretty smart - probably the cleverest man in town. That’s probably why they have you up here watching the sheep. Tom: Huh? Wolf: Never mind. You know they probably don’t truly appreciate what a genius they have sitting up here. That’s something else we have in common. Tom: We do? Wolf: Oh yeah, you see we’re just not appreciated by our own. That’s why they leave us alone. That’s why we end up with such brave and solitary occupations. Yes sir, Tom, you’re a lone wolf…just like me… Tom: Lone Wolf? Wolf: Sit down and I’ll tell you about it. Plays “Lone Wolf” Wolf: *A Lone Wolf…Well…* He's a rebel on his own Who leads a lonely life Prefers to roam alone He's got no fam’ly life. Cause he's a Lone Wolf He's a Lone Wolf Destined to be alone. *Yeah, that's me…* I'm a man with fresh ideas And nonconformist mind I got a chip upon my shoulder And a great big axe to grind Pigs enter from stage right behind wolf to dance and act as back-up singers. Cause I'm a Lone Wolf I'm a Lone Wolf Destined to be alone. Cause, I'm a lone wolf Whitby 53 Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: Yeah, I'm a lone wolf. Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: Destined to be alone. He's got pink pajamas He's got Grandma’s cap on He's got Grandma's glasses Up inside the covers He's got fur down below his knees Got to be the wolf because he's such a big tease Come together Right now Tom: *Wait, wait, wait, You can't use that song… * Wolf: *What? Oh…yeah…* Wolf/Tom: *Copyright restrictions.* Wolf: *Who owns the rights to that one?* Tom: *Michael Jackson, I think.* Wolf: *Hunh.* Well, I'm a lone wolf Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: I'm a lone wolf. Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: Destined to be alone. You're a man whose quite like me – *Son* With time upon your hands Your only friends are lambies And no one understands Why you're a Lone Wolf Boy: *I'm a lone wolf?* Wolf: Yeah, you're a lone wolf. Boy: *lone wolf* Wolf: Destined to be alone. Yeah I'm a lone wolf Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: Yah, I'm a lone wolf. Whitby 54 Pigs: Lone Wolf Wolf: Destined to be alone. Pigs exit. The wolf stares after them. Tom: Huh…me…a lone wolf. Maybe we do have a lot in common. Wolf: You're loner; I'm a loner. You like sheep; I like sheep – well, mutton, actually. Tom: What? Wolf: Nothing… Tom: So what's with the pigs. Wolf: Oh…the pigs…well that's another story…You care to… Tom: Oh…yeah. (sits down to hear the story) Wolf: This is actually the story of Three, Little Pigs who were moving away from home for the first time. Tom: Wow, sounds exiting. Wolf: Oh, it was…for them…setting off into the forest to have their own experience. They decided first of all, each of them, to build him or herself a house. The first pig collected straw from a local farm to build herself a house of straw. Straw Pig enters, carrying straw, and continues across the stage Wolf: The second pig gathered sticks from the forest to build herself a house of sticks. Brick Pig enters, carrying sticks, and continues across the stage Tom: Hey wasn't there a third pig. Wolf: Come with me. The exit briefly and Tom comes back dressed as the brick pig carrying bricks in a barrel on his back. They cross the stage as the others did. Tom: Why am I carrying bricks again? Wolf: Think about it for a moment. Tom: Brick house? Whitby 55 Wolf: Right. The smartest pig collected bricks and made himself a house of… Tom: Bricks…I get to be the smartest pig? Wolf: Ironic, isn't it? Tom: Huh? Wolf: Yeah. The three little pigs set to work building their houses, little aware that a lonely, friendless wolf watched their progress with eager eyes. Wolf hides behind tree as straw pig pushes/lifts straw house into place. Straw: Well. That was easy; my very own house of straw. What a time saver. Well now I’ve got plenty of time to do whatever I want. I can go inside and watch sports. Maybe play some video games…I could play that new game “To Market to Market III” on my Nintendo “Wi Wi Wi” system and eat junk food! I love being a pig! Wolf: Well is certainly suits you. Straw: Hey, who are you callin’…Agggh! (Pig runs this way and that way trying to get past the wolf.) Get away from me you…you… Wolf: Wolf? Straw: You Big… Wolf: Wolf. Straw: Wolf! (runs around the house and inside) Wolf: Now, now! There’s no need to get personal. I’m just your friendly neighborhood wolf here to get to know my newest neighbor! Straw: Well…now we’ve met…and I’m sorry, but I’ve got some things to do…the game’s on, so… Wolf: The game? Just as I thought; a sports fan, huh? What a coincidence. It just so happens that I have an extra ticket to Saturday’s game – 5th row, 50-yard line… Straw: (sticks head out of side of house). Really…who’s playing? Wolf: The Bears and the Rams Straw: Ooooh. Maybe…wait…no, no, stupid, stupid, it’s a wolf. No! You just go away. Whitby 56 Wolf: Well, what a bad attitude. I guess we’ll have to do this in the traditional way. Straw: The traditional way? Wolf: Oh yes. Tradition. It’s the way wolves and house building pigs have always done it….Observe. I say, “Little Pig, Little Pig, let me in.” And you respond… Straw: Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin? Wolf: Precisely. Straw: But my chin isn’t hairy!?! Wolf: It’s traditional. Straw: Oh very well. Go ahead. Wolf: Little Pig, Little Pig, let me in Straw: Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Wolf: Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in. Straw: Wait! Really!?! Wolf: Really. Wolf huffs and puffs as the straw pig looks on stunned from within the house. Then the house shakes and shakes and blows off of the stage. Wolf: Heh. (sings) Ham steak and pork chops, Hoo wah ooo Hoo wah ooo, Bacon and Ham Hocks, Hoo La La, Hoo La La. Boy as Brick Pig comes out behind the wolf and surprises him with his question. Brick: So did you eat the little piggy. Wolf: Wah hah. What? No!...What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be working on your brick house? Tom: Yeah, but I wanted to see what happened to the straw pig. You didn’t eat her up? Wolf: Did you want me to eat her? Tom: Well, no! But that’s just what I heard, that you ate the pig. Whitby 57 Wolf: (under his breath) I wish…. Tom: What? Wolf: No, you heard wrong. She ran away to hide in the stick house of her sister. Tom: Oh…good thing. That straw house sure didn’t look very strong. Wolf: Not very. Speaking of strong houses, you’d better get back to work, and I’ll tell you what happened next. You see, the first pig made her trembling way to the house of the second little pig. She had just finished building her house of sticks… The Wolf and Tom exit, stick pig enters and “builds” her house. She begins admiring the structure. Stick: Ah yes, very rustic, artistic, minimalistic. Yes. What better than sticks for a house? Hah. I made a stick joke. A linguistic joke! Now I deserve a bit of a rest, perhaps some tea, then, maybe I’ll sit and read some 18th century French poetry. Or, or, or, I could pull out my collection of rare Albanian stamps and spend the afternoon inspecting their teeny tiny intricate details… Straw: (Comes running in) Oh Sister, Sister! Get inside quick! There’s a Big, Bad, Wolf in the neighborhood, he huffed and puffed and blew my house down! Stick: (incredulous) Really?…Hard to believe sis. You have been watching too much television. You know that’s bad for you. Now why don’t you come inside and I’ll make you some tea. I was just about to recite some poetry. Would you like to see my stamp collection? Straw: Frankly, I’d rather take my chances with the wolf! Stick: Very funny. I told you. There is no wolf. There can’t be. It would simply ruin the feng shui of the neighborhood! Are you sure it didn’t just happen in one of your video games? Straw: No. I mean Yes! I tell you, he blew down my house!!! Wolf enters to stand behind Straw Pig. Stick begins to stammer and point. Straw: What? (turns and sees wolf; in the mean time the Stick pig heads for the house) Oh, so now you believe me, huh? You should really learn to take me more seriously! I mean, this wolf is up to no good. You think you are so smart just because you like to read books, well, next time you’ll believe me. …Oy!!! Whitby 58 Stick pig reaches out and snags Straw by the front of her overalls and unceremoniously drags her into the house. Wolf: Dear little pigs. How unfortunate that you have pulled yourselves deep into your…house this way. I have just come to get to know you. Straw: Get to know us? You blew down my house. Wolf: A misunderstanding, truly. And you must admit that it wasn’t a very strong house if it blew down the moment I sneezed. Straw: Sneezed? Stick: Well you’ve met us; what do you want now? Wolf: Funny that you should ask. I’ve just acquired a rare book of ancient verses in archaic Visigoth and I though that we might sit under the tree together and discuss the imagery. Stick: Oh, that sounds lovely. (She begins to walk out to meet the wolf) You know I have a soft spot for ancient languages. Maybe we could… Oy!!! (Straw pig reaches out and grabs her by the back of her overalls) Wolf: *sigh* Then I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way. Little Pigs, Little Pigs, let me in! Straw: Not by the hair of our chinny chin chins. Stick: But I don’t have hair on my chin! Straw: It’s tradition. Straw: Oh. Both: Not by the hair on our chinny chin chins. Wolf: Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in. Stick: Wait! Really? Straw: Really? Wolf huffs and puffs, the house blows away and this time Stick is left behind. She “oys” and runs off after the house. Tom: Wow. That house wasn’t very strong either! Whitby 59 Wolf: Would you stop that? And before you ask, no, I didn’t eat them then either. They ran on to their brother’s house of bricks. Tom: Oh. Both sit and look after the fleeing pigs for an uncomfortable amount of time. Wolf: Well? Tom: What? Wolf: Are you finished? Tom: With the house? Wolf: Yes, with the house. Tom: Yeah. Wolf: Then can we get on with this? Tom: Oh, yeah, sorry. What was next? Wolf: The first two pigs ran on to the house of the third pig…a brick house. Wolf and Tom exit and Tom returns with the brick house. Tom: The strongest house ever built. Now I will be safe whatever comes. Stick and Straw enter on the run. Both: Get in the house! Get in the house! Stick: There’s a Big Bad Wolf after us. He blew down my house! Straw: And mine! Stick: And now he’s coming after yours. Brick: Hah…do not worry my sisters, this house is strong enough and big enough for all of us. That wolf will not be able to get us here. Wolf enters and Stick and Straw scream-let and run into the house. Tom just stands there grinning. The wolf gestures and points at the house. After a minute Tom catches on and with a mouthed “Oh” he disappears into the house too. Whitby 60 Wolf: So, my dear pigs. I finally caught up with you. Did you notice that your house fell down back there? Quite tragic. Stick: You blew down my house of sticks! Straw: And my house of straw! Wolf: Nonsense, they were both structurally unsound! They were ready to come down anyway. Now why don’t you just let me come into this impressive structure and we’ll talk about what happened. Tom: Ha Ha, Mr. Wolf. Do you think we are fools? You only want to come in here for one reason. Stick and Straw: What’s that? Tom: Pork. Stick and Straw: (shuddering) Oooooh. Tom: We’ll never let you in, and you’ll find this house much stronger than the last two! Wolf: Then I’m afraid I have no choice. Stick and Straw: Tradition. Wolf: Little Pigs, Little Pigs, let me in! Pigs: Not by the hair of our chinny chin chins. Wolf: Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in. Wolf huffs and puffs, then huffs and puffs again. Huffing and puffing he sits down to rest a moment. Pigs: Hooray! Tom: So you see, you naughty wolf, you can’t blow this strong brick house down! Wolf: True, true. My but you pigs are smart. I guess I have no choice. I must go away and never, ever come back. Good-bye now. Pigs: Hooray! Wolf starts to walk away. Tom sees him out the window and comes running out. Whitby 61 Tom: Wait, wait, wait! So you just gave up – and went away forever? Wolf: No, no, I didn’t give up! I had one last trick I had to try. See the top of the house? Tom: Yeah. Wolf: See the chimney? Tom: Yeah? Wolf: It was the house’s fatal flaw. I waited until the pigs thought I was gone and then I crept around the back of the house, up onto a strategically placed ladder, and climbed down the chimney. Tom: This I gotta see! Wolf: O.K. (Tom just stands there grinning)…then get back inside… Tom goes back into the house and the wolf begins his sneak attack. Wolf: I’m going away forever – heh – you’ll never see me again – hah – so long.... Wolf reappears at the top of the ladder. During the next part the pigs sneak out of the house in a piggy clump to get wood and a big pot before sneaking back in. Wolf: Ham steak and pork chops, Hoo wah ooo Hoo wah ooo, Bacon and Ham Hocks, Hoo La La, Hoo La La…And, down the chimney I gooooooo! Comes busting out of the house fanning his behind Wolf: AROOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! Wolf runs around the stage and off as pigs come out and give each knuckle bumps and high fives. They return behind the house. Tom removes the ladder up stage and out. Straw pig and stick pig remove the pot and push the house off stage. Wolf and Tom return stage right. Tom: So you didn’t eat anybody. Again? Wolf: You got that right. And what a nasty trick: putting a boiling pot of water in the fireplace. My tail has never been the same. But the worst part is, if they had only let me in, we could have been such good friends. Tom: I still think you were trying to eat those three little pigs. Whitby 62 Wolf: Tom…dear Tom, don’t you think I would still be trying if I really preferred a little pork on my plate? But no, I’ve long ago forgotten those pigs, and I’m here making friends with you. Is that the act of a desperately hungry wolf? Tom: Well… Wolf: No sir, Tommy Boy, especially not when I am here to help you out. I couldn’t think of eating with you in such trouble. Tom: Trouble? Wolf: Well, you tested your villagers to see if they would come when you called, and they passed the test, but how do you know they would come again if you called. Tom: (slightly worried) What do you mean? They came last time? Wolf: Oh yeah, but what if they think they have already done their duty. What if they think that they don’t have to come running when you call this time? Tom: Oh no. What’ll I do? Wolf: It’s easy. You just “Cry Wolf” again – just to see if they come runnin’ again. Tom: Yeah…I guess I could… Wolf: Sure you could. And besides, don’t you want to see ‘em runnin’ around like that again? I mean, wasn’t that worth all of the hassle last time? Tom: Yeah, it sure was! I’ll do it! I mean, I’ve got to know for sure, don’t I? Hide yourself, and I’ll “Cry Wolf” one more time. Wolf hides again and Tom gets into position Tom: WOLF!!! WOOOOLF!!! WOOOOOOLFFFFF!!! Townsfolk come runnin’ with farm implements at hand they run all over the place looking for the wolf as Tom looks on, this time laughing, gradually louder, until, finally they catch on to his joke and come to him, breathless, asking the important questions. V1: Oh hoh hoh – very funny. V2: Let me guess…no wolf again!?! Tom: Yeah! You ought’a see the looks on your faces. It’s incredibly funny. V2: Let me at ‘im! Let me at ‘im!!! Whitby 63 V1: Ugh, it’s not worth it. Let’s go. Good luck, wolf boy. Villagers exit stage left as the wolf comes on, Tom is still laughing. Wolf: That was great. Even better than last time! Tom: Yeah, so funny. Wolf: You’re quite the trickster! Never seen anybody better! Tom: But, they did seem kind of mad…you don’t think they’re going to stay angry do you? Wolf: Why should they? You’ve done nothin’ wrong! Tom: You’re sure? Wolf: Yeah… Plays ”Just Funnin'” Wolf: You're just funnin' Boy: I am? Wolf: It's just a joke. Boy: It is! Wolf: You're cryin' Wolf! Boy: That's all. Wolf: You're blowin' smoke Oh, you're just funnin' It's just a tease; But they'll still come runnin' quick as you please. Boy: So…I'm just funnin' Wolf: Don't call it lies. Boy: They won't find nothin' Just a big surprise. When they come runnin' They'll realize Wolf: Can't believe their eyes! Boy: That I'm just funnin' with these wolfish cries. Wolf: You're just funnin' Boy: Yeah, I'm just funnin' Wolf: It's just a joke Both: Just cryin' Wolf, here! Whitby 64 Wolf: Just blowin' smoke! Both: Oh, it's just funnin' It's just a tease; But they'll still come runnin' quick as you please. Both: Yeah, It's just funnin' Don't call it lies They won't find nothin' Just a big surprise. When they come runnin' Boy: They'll realize Wolf: No Compromise! Boy: That I'm just funnin' Both: With these wolfish cries. Bridge Boy: But what if someone comes along, Suspicion in her eyes, To tell me that I'm doin' wrong, To stop my foolish cries. Wolf: So what? Boy: So what? Wolf: So what, I say. You cain't fix what ain't broke… And is it really you're fault If they can't take a joke? Boy: No? Wolf: No! Both: Because…We're just funnin' It's just a joke We're cryin' Wolf! We're blowin' smoke Oh, We're just funnin' It's just a tease; But they'll come runnin' quick as you please. A capella We're just funnin' It's just a joke We're cryin' Wolf! We're blowin' smoke Oh, We're just funnin' It's just a tease; Whitby 65 But they'll come runnin' quick as you please. Wolf: But you know, you do raise a good point. Now that you have tricked the townspeople a few times, and gotten them all riled up like that, it might kind-of be hard to get them to come back when you are really in trouble…when your sheep are really in danger… Tom: Yeah, but…you said…I mean, it was just a joke. Wolf: You are right, but sometimes jokes and teasing have a way of backfiring on you in a crisis. What if they are too angry to help you now that you’ve “tested” them a couple of times. What if you yell “Wolf” and they don’t believe you because of all of your tricks. Tom: Oh no. Oh no. Mr. Wolf, what can I do? Wolf: Well…about the only way you could really…really…know if they would come to your aid is if you really had someone trying to steal your sheep. Why then you could call them and if they came to drive away the predator, you’d know you were really and truly safe…unfortunately, you’d have to have a real predator with you or it wouldn’t really work… Tom: Oh Mister Wolf, you’re a predator, you could help me! Wolf: Why yes Tom, I am a predator. But what could I do to help you? Tom: You could pretend to be stealing the sheep! I could “cry wolf” one more time, then we would really, really see if they would come or not! Wolf: Why Tom, you are even smarter than I gave you credit for…your wonderful plan just might work. Now what should I do. Tom: Well, you just take this (hands wolf the sheep’s rope and pulls the sheep center stage) and act, well, mean. Like this (pantomimes a wolfish face). Wolf: Like this? (Wolf mimics Tom) Tom: Yeah. Now…I’ll stand over here and “Cry Wolf” just this one last time...(Tom gets into position) WOLF!!! WOOOOLF!!! WOOOOOOLFFFFF!!! (nothing happens…Tom is nonplussed; worried, he tries again) WOLF!!! WOOOOLF!!! WOOOOOOLFFFFF!!! Wolf: (to audience) Well, aren’t you going to help him out? Everybody now, on the count of three…one…two…three…(audience helps) V1: Hey kid, cut the racket! V2: Who do you think you’re foolin’? Whitby 66 V1 and V2: Ah Phooey! Tom: Huh. Did you see that? They wouldn’t come. What happens if I really get into trouble now? Wolf: Well, Tom, you’ve really got yourself a problem. I wish I could stay and help you solve it, but I’ve got a meal to prepare. Goodnight. Slowly, the Wolf starts to take the sheep off stage left. The true situation slowly dawns on Tom. Tom: Wait! Mr. Wolf, where are you going with my sheep!?! Wolf: Your sheep? No, sorry, Tommy Boy, these are my sheep now! Tom: What do you mean? You said…I thought…but…Hey! Wolf: I’m sorry Tom, perhaps we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m the Wolf! THE Wolf. THE Hungry Wolf, and since you have proven, without doubt, that the villagers will not come to stop me, I’ll just be taking these sheep off someplace a little less…crowded…to enjoy a light lambie lunch…so without further ado…adieu…chump. Wolf drags sheep off while Tom hems and haws and begins to “cry wolf” again Tom: Nooo…my sheep…Mr. Wolf...Wooolf!! WOOOOOOLF WOOOOOOL oh what’s the use. (offstage to where the wolf has gone) There just made of plywood…mostly. Boo. Tom leaves stage right. The wolf waits a beat and reenters, pushing the sheep, knife and fork in hand. Wolf: What? O.K. O.K. So what if I am what you always believed I was? A wolf’s got to eat just like anybody else. And there are wolves out there. Count on it. Just remember this when the wolf comes to call, a wolf is almost always hungry, no matter what he says. And no matter how friendly and clever the wolf might be, never make a deal with the wolf, because a wolf is always – always – after your sheep. (sings) Roast rib and lamb chops, Hoo-La-La, Hoo-La-La. (takes a bite of the sheep, makes a face). The kid was right, plywood…mostly. Figures. As for tonight, well, listen, if our story offended at all, if you were in any way nervous for the little people of our play or if you yourself felt endangered by the Big Bad Wolf, you only have to remember one little tiny thing: Whitby 67 Play and Sing “Just Funnin’ (Reprise)” Wolf: We’re just funnin' Tom: It's just a joke Red: We're cryin' Wolf! Stick: We're blowin' smoke All: Oh, We're just funnin' It's just a tease; But you came runnin' quick as you please. Yeah, we’re just funnin' It's just a joke We're cryin' Wolf! We're blowin' smoke Oh, We're just funnin' It's just a tease; But you came runnin' quick as you please. THE END Whitby 68 Whitby 69 Goldilocks and the Three Bears: A Fairy Tale Sitcom in Three Acts Written for the Treehouse Troupe by Wes Whitby based on the traditional fairy tale As the subtitle suggests, this version of the “Goldilocks” fable is updated in a style that represents a staged version of the television sitcom. It owes much in its style and subject matter to shows like “The Honeymooners,” “Leave it to Beaver,” and, more recently, “Everybody Loves Raymond.” Like a sitcom, the action occurs in one place with little change of scenery. Other locations and events are discussed, but all of the action involves retelling and reaction within the sphere of the bear’s living space. As reaction to past events is the biggest part of the bear’s role in the original tale, the story is easily translated into the genre. In fact, given the natural way that the bears’ story seems to fit the sitcom mold, Jackie Gleason and Ray Romano might actually be shown to owe a little something to the little girl with the golden curls. CAST Osbourne “Papa” Bear Bernice “Mama” Bear Osbourne Junior “Baby” Bear Goldilocks The Sheriff ACT ONE: THE TRADITIONAL TALE – MORE OR LESS SCENE ONE: READY TO EAT The Bears’ Cottage. Mama is making breakfast in the kitchen, humming a little tune. Mama: Papa! Junior! Breakfast! Baby: Morning, Mama. Mama: Morning, Sweet Pea. Did you wash up? Baby: Yes, Mama. Mama: Let me see your paws…uh huh… and behind those ears. . . oh Junior you are as bad as your Papa. You think that just because you can’t see behind your ears no one can. Come over here to the washbasin. (She wets her apron and uses its corner to clean Baby’s ears…to his discomfort) There now, much better. Now run upstairs and make your bed before Papa comes in. Whitby 70 Baby: Awww, Mama, do I have tuh? Mama: Yes. Baby: I’m only going to mess it up again tonight. Mama: Get up there. Baby: But… Mama: But me no buts, Junior, you are old enough to make your own bed. Now don’t be lazy. Good habits make good bears. Baby: What does that even mean? Mama: It means get up there and make your bed. Besides, you never know when we might have someone come by for a visit, and I want the house to be tidy. Baby: (grumbles as he ascends the stairs) No one ever comes to visit…we live in the woods. (Baby messes around with his bed for awhile, makes it in a haphazard way and then stuffs his pajamas under the pillow before starting to come down the stairs) Mama: (Waits until he is just starting down and then…) And make sure to hang up your pajamas! Baby turns around, petulantly, and heads back to the bed to pull the offending garment from its hiding place to hang it on a rack. Mama: Your father is outside picking some berries to go with our porridge. Would you go and get some honey from the tree out back? Baby: Honey! Yes Ma’am. That’s a job I like. (exits stage left) Mama: (Calls after him) Don’t get your fur all sticky, and don’t aggravate the bees. (Father enters through the book stage right). Good morning dear, how did it go. Papa: Well the berry bushes are lookin’ pretty sparse, I’ll tell you. But I managed to get a couple of fish for lunchtime; they’re in the bucket. Mama: Oh dear. They look awfully small, Osbourne. Papa: I know, and they taste a little lean, too… (at Mama’s look) What? I only ate one tiny little perch… Mama: Well, I hope you left room for porridge. Whitby 71 Papa: Of course I did. I’m as hungry as a bear. Mama: When aren’t you? Papa: Ain’t it the truth. But with hibernation only a coupla’ weeks away, I’m a little worried about getting enough to eat. Mama: Believe me, you’re gettin’ enough. Papa: Be serious Bernice. With the forest economy what it is, we’ll be diggin’ through town garbage cans by the first snow. Mama: Any excuse… Papa: You got that right. You find some pretty interesting things hiding in the bins. Mama: Well I wish you’d stop. You’re behaving like a raccoon, and I won’t have Junior picking it up. Papa: Oh but don’t you remember the night of the Mayor’s party? It didn’t wind down until the early hours of the morning, and some of the things I found in the trash we-hellll I tell you…(Mama clears her throat and stares pointedly behind Papa at Baby who has just entered) Oh…there’s my cub…didn’t see you come in, son…Wha’da’yah say, champ…slap us some paw. Baby: Hey Dad. Mama: Did you get the honey, Junior? Baby: Couldn’t Mama. Somethin’s got the bees all riled up again. Papa: Riled up? Why they were just fine this morning when I…(Mama gives Papa a knowing look) What? …It was just a little snack! You know I’m just a bear if I don’t get my morning honey. Mama: And I wonder why the bees are upset. Papa: Nonsense…cub, you come with me. Your Papa knows a little somethin’ about bees. Papa and Baby exit stage left and after two beats they are right back in frightened and apprehensive. Mama: Riled up? Whitby 72 Papa: Infuriated. Mama: Humph. (Mama goes to the cupboard) Papa: Maybe we ought not to annoy the bees for awhile, son. Baby: But what about the honey? Mama: Well, it’s not fresh, but I’ve been saving this for one of my recipes. Papa: Hey, aged honey! I didn’t know we had that. Mama: I know. Now if you two are through playing, it’s time to eat. Please come to the table. Mama ladles the porridge, from a steaming Dutch oven, into the bowls on the table. Mama: Please eat. Papa: Ah, Ah, Aghh Mama: What? Papa: This porridge is too hot. Mama: Oh…this porridge is too hot, too. Baby: This porridge is too hot! Mama: And we don’t have any milk. Exasperating. Papa: I’ve got a wonderful idea. Let’s take a walk in the woods while our breakfast cools. Maybe we can get some cream on the way. Mama: I suppose there’s nothing for it. Get your coats. Papa comes back in struggling with his coat. Papa: I guess I’m closer to hibernation weight than I thought. Here let me help you with that dear. Mama: Thank you, Ozzie. (Papa helps Mama with her cloak, Baby returns wearing a little red cloak with a hood) Junior, where did you get that cloak? Baby: Papa gave it to me yesterday. Whitby 73 Papa Got it from Wolf for really cheap. Mama: Wolf? Honestly Ozzie, some of your friends. Papa: Now I don’t know what you have against him. He’s a nice guy. And before you ask, no, it didn’t fall off the back of a wagon. Says he got it from the little old granny that lives on the other side of the woods. She makes ‘em for her grandchildren. Thought this one would just fit Junior. Mama: Well it is a very nice cloak; I’ll admit that. Baby: I think it looks a little girly. Mama: Nonsense. It’ll keep you warm. Well, everybody ready? Then lets go. Papa: And while we are out, maybe we can stop and see Fox about that new farm job he’s got. Mama: We are not going to see Fox! He’s crazy. Papa: Crazy like a fox. All exit. Lights out. Whitby 74 SCENE TWO: AN UNEXPECTED GUEST Knocking noise from door as the lights fade in. Door slowly opens and a head of curls is seen around the jamb. Goldilocks: Hello, anybody home? Who knew there was cottage like this in the woods? Hello? It’s me, Goldilocks, your neighbor. Well not really your neighbor since you live so deep in the woods, but I might be the closest neighbor you’ve got since I’m here visiting my Aunt Tillie in town so…anybody home? Huh. Well Mama always said to knock before entering somebody’s house on account of I’m always getting in trouble and anyway I did that and wow, what a cute cottage. You’d never know it lookin’ at the outside. They really ought’a paint or somethin’. Looks pretty rough. Not the kind of place you want to come visitin’ uh uh. I wonder who lives here? So far from town…. I suppose I really should wait until they come home…but it’s so much more fun exploring on my own. I wonder why that is? Oh look, family pictures. Who could that be. What a beard. Looks a little like my Aunt Tillie. She has a beard too ya know. Huh, even the little one has a beard…maybe they’re dwarfs! I heard they live in cottages in the woods…read about it in a story! It was such a long walk through those woods. I could use a rest. Would you look at that; three lovely little chairs, what a perfect place to sit while I wait for the dwarfs to return. (Tries the largest chair) Oooh that chair is too hard! And sharp…is that a nail? Humph. (Shoves the biggest chair away) This looks more like it. (Tries the middle-sized chair) Umph! Who sits in a chair like this, honestly; this chair is way too soft. Must…get…out… Now what about this one? Sure is cute. (Tries the littlest chair) Now that’s more like it…Just right! (She begins to bounce up and down with delight until she falls through the seat of the chair) Oooowhoahoa! Oh no! That’s not good. (Takes some of the cushions from Mama Bear’s chair and tries to cover the problem) Now I feel bad about that, truly I do. Somebody is going to get in trouble. (She sniffs and shrugs, as if to say, “ah well,” and happens to smell the food) What is that smell? Food! Oh boy, oh boy porridge! With Honey! (Sniffs again, then tries each bowl in turn.) Ahhhh. Big bowl! Ouch this porridge is too hot! Middle sized bowl. Ew. This porridge is too cold. Little bowl. Cute. MMM. This porridge is just right! (Snarfs it down. After the porridge she lifts the fish bucket lid and immediately regrets it) UGH! Fish! Not hungry anymore. In fact, I’m feeling just a little sleepy. I bet these stairs lead to someplace cozy. Oh, oh, oh! Beds! I’d better try them out; Mama says I’m always grumpy if I don’t get a nap. (Tries Papa Bear’s bed) This bed is too high at the head! I’m practically standing up. (Tries Mama Bear’s bed) And this is just ridiculous. Way too high at the feet. I can feel my heartbeat in my forehead. (Tries Baby Bear’s bed) Oooh, but this one is just right! Comfy! I could sleep in this one. (She looks around for something to wear, spies baby bear’s nightshirt and puts it on) This will do. Now for a little beauty sleep… Whitby 75 Time passes and the lights go down upstairs as the bears return home. Bear voices heard offstage as they approach. Mama: Oh, Osbourne. It’s exasperating!. Papa: Now don’t be like that; how was I supposed to know that Fox didn’t have permission to milk that cow and gather eggs. He said it was a job…I didn’t know he meant that it was a job. Mama: Just once I would like to go walking…in the woods…as a family. Papa: That was walking. Mama: No, it started out as walking and ended as running, very quickly, from angry farmers with pitchforks. Come along Junior. Baby: It was great the way Pops came flyin’ out of that barn! And the way he cleared that fence…wowee! Mama: Wowee. You hear that Osbourne? Try to be a better example. And Junior, don’t encourage your father. Baby: Yes, Mama. Papa: Well at least we’ve worked up an appetite. Let’s just settle down and eat our breakf….Hey somebody’s been eating my porridge. Mama: Don’t be silly Osbourne. You had a bite yourself before we left. Don’t…wait a minute…somebody’s been eating my porridge too. Papa: Silly huh? I told you I… Interrupted by Baby bear’s cries. Baby: AWWWWW. Somebody’s been eating my porridge, and they ate it all gone. Papa checks the fish bucket Papa: Well at least they didn’t get the fish. Mama: Whoever did this…maybe they’re still here Ozzie. Papa: We’ll soon find out. Whitby 76 The bears arm themselves in the kitchen before going on a search. Papa bear picks up a frying pan, Mama picks up a rolling pin, and Baby picks up a wooden spoon. They move in a line to explore the rest of the house. Papa: Look at this, somebody’s been sitting in my chair – they moved it all the way over here. Mama: And somebody’s been sitting in my chair, and they’ve taken some of cushions. Baby: Found the cushions…sniffles…somebody’s been sitting in my chair, and they broke it! Baby bear starts crying in earnest and mother goes to comfort him Mama: Exasperating! Ozzie!?! Papa: Well, if he’s still here, there’s only one more place he could be… All bears turn slowly and look upstairs Papa: Well…here goes. Mama and Baby: We’re comin’ with you. They make their slow way upstairs, at the top of the stairs, Papa turns and shushes the others before peeking beneath his bed. Papa: Nobody there…but somebody’s been sleeping in my bed. Mama rushes past him to her own bed. Mama: Somebody’s been sleeping in my bed. Mama and Papa look under her bed as baby pushes past to his own. Finding nobody there they look at each other and silently shake their heads. Baby: Somebody’s been sleeping in my bed. And here she is… Papa and Mama turn around suddenly Papa and Mama: What!?! Baby: And she’s wearing my nightshirt. Papa: Stand back son…she might be dangerous. Whitby 77 Baby: She doesn’t look like it. Papa: You never know with girls… Papa sneaks over to goldilocks and gives her a gentle shake and steps hurriedly back. When that doesn’t work, he gives her a slightly harder shake. When that doesn’t work, he yells Papa: OY! Goldilocks slowly sits up and rubs her eyes looking sleepily over at the bears. She does a double take and screams. Goldilocks: Aaahhh! Bears: Aaahhh! Goldilocks: Aaahhh! Bears: Aaahhh! Goldilocks: Aaahhh! Bears: Aaahhh! Goldilocks: Aaahhh! Papa: Stop! Who are you? And what are you doing in our house? Goldilocks gets slowly out of the bed during this next bit and stands wringing her hands. Goldilocks: Oh please Mr. Bear, I’m just a little girl and my name’s Goldilocks, and I didn’t mean any harm and please don’t eat me and…Oh! Baby bear approaches her and begins to appraise her. Baby: She’s kind’a cute. Can we keep her Papa and Mama: NO! Goldilocks starts to climb around on the beds searching for something. Papa: What are you doing now? Goldilocks: I’m looking for a window to jump out of. Whitby 78 Papa: We don’t have one. Goldilocks: Oh. In that case... Goldilocks leaps, action hero like over the railing and down to the floor below to the astonished gasps of the Bears. She looks right and left and exits stage left only to return in haste. Papa: What now? Goldilocks: Bees….Angry bees. Mama: Try that way, dear. Goldilocks: Oh, thanks. She exits\s through the main door, leaving an astonished and distracted bear family in her wake. After a few beats… Baby: She took my nightshirt. Mama: I’ll make you a new one dear. Papa: Well, how’da’ya like that. Breakin’ into someone’s place, breaking stuff, stealing their things, it’s it’s, it’s just not right! (Mama shoots him a look) Now it’s not the same thing, I was just borrowing a pint of milk, and besides, people expect bears to behave that way from time to time. But since when do cute little girls act that way? Mama: Probably happens more often than you think. Baby: It was probably fun…for her, I mean. Papa: One thing’s for sure, I’m going to have to put a lock on that door. What are these woods coming to? Mama: Well, it’s all over now, and I’d better think about making some more breakfast. Papa: Somehow, I just don’t feel hungry…hard to believe, I know. Mama: Well then why don’t you and Junior do something about that chair? I’ll call you when it’s ready, dear. Baby: Yes, mama. Papa: Come along, Cubbie. Let’s see what we can do to fix this up. Whitby 79 Papa and Baby carry the chair outdoors. Mama watches them go, shaking her head. She looks about the room and lets out a sigh. Mama: Exasperating. Lights fade as she begins to clean up. Whitby 80 ACT TWO: THERE AND BACK AGAIN SCENE ONE: AN EVEN MORE UNEXPECTED GUEST Papa Bear and Baby Bear are making their beds as Mama is, once again making breakfast. Papa comes down stairs. Papa: Morning Bernice. Porridge sure smells good. And after yesterday I sure could eat a whole pot full myself, whatever the temperature. Mama: Osbourne… Papa: And that’s another thing. The police constable wouldn’t do anything about our little visitor yesterday. She said that it was “unlikely” that anyone would even want to break into our lovely home in the first place, and in the second place she didn’t believe that it a little girl with golden curls would be behind such a thing, much less be so deep in the woods. Can you believe it? But she didn’t see the look in that little thief’s eyes. Pure evil they were… Mama: Osbourne… Papa: Now don’t you “Osbourne” me. This was no small time operator. Hah! This “little girl” knew her way around. I bet she’s been involved in plenty of shady deals, why I bet that hairdo wasn’t even real… Mama: But Osbourne! Papa: What? Mama points in the direction of the parlor, where Goldilocks is sitting on a high stool and kicking her legs. Goldilocks: Hello. Papa looks and then does a double take, almost falling off of his chair. He regains his composure. Papa: Oh hello…(to Mama in a stage whisper)...what’s with the kid? Didn’t we get rid of her yesterday? Mama: Yes Ozzie, I’ve been trying to tell you, she was here when I came down this morning. Papa: Oooh…creepy. Whitby 81 Mama: She said she just wanted some more of my porridge. Goldilocks has come to stand behind Papa while they’ve been talking. Goldilocks: Thanks again for the porridge Mrs. Bear. It was delicious. Papa and Mama jump at the sound of her voice. Papa: She sort of sneaks up on you. Mama: Mmmm-hmmm. Baby enters. Baby: Oh wow! She’s back. Goldilocks: Here I am! Baby: Great. Does this mean we get to keep her? Papa and Mama: No! Mama: I mean I’m sure she’s got people looking for her. Papa: And she’s not housebroken. Mama: Papa! Doesn’t your family wonder where you are? They must get quite worried when you wander off like this. Goldilocks: Oh, I don’t think so. At least they never say anything about it. Papa: Well, somebody ought to. Mama: It really is nicer, dear, if you’re introduced before coming into a stranger’s home. I… Goldilocks: Oh yeah, Mama said so too. My name’s Goldilocks. Papa: Yeah. You told us last time. Mama: Osborne, don’t bluster. You’re acting like a grizzly. Papa: Sorry little girl, I haven’t had my morning honey yet. Goldilocks: I know, I accidentally broke the jar when I came in. Whitby 82 Papa: What? Mama: That’s o.k. dear, we’ll get a new jar. Papa: Was there anything left? Mama: Just this. (She holds up a saucer) Baby: Ooh. Can I lick the plate! Mama: Sure! Papa: But… Goldilocks: Me too! Papa: But… Mama: We’ll get more later. Baby and Goldilocks go to the parlor where they begin to pass the plate back and forth…licking it clean. Baby: Do you want a turn Papa? Papa: Uh…no. Thanks. (to Mama) So what do we do with…”Goldilocks” now? I don’t like the idea of having unexpected honey eating chair smashers over for breakfast any given morning. Mama: Oh Osborne, she’s just a child after all. We’ll see that she gets back to her parents and that they know what she’s been up to and I’m sure the problem will solve itself. Besides she’s harmless (Goldilocks accidentally drops the dish). Oh…my dish! Papa: We’ll get more later. Goldilocks: Oh…I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to…(turns quickly about and knocks over the pictures or a vase from the parlor table)…oops. Baby: Wowee! You sure are clumsy! Mama: Junior! Why don’t you two go out back and play for a while. It’s…less crowded out there. Maybe you can show Goldilocks around. Baby: In my new pajamas? Mama: Just this once. Whitby 83 Baby: Yeeaah! Come on! Goldilocks: Right behind ya! Papa and Mama sigh and start cleaning up the mess while they discuss. Papa: So who does She belong to? Mama: I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing her in town before. Papa: Well, you know how it is with people. They all smell alike, more or less. Mama: Well, human or not, at least junior knows someone his own age in town now. Maybe, once we get past all of this they could get together and play once in a while. Papa: We could keep her. Junior’s always wanted a pet. Mama: Osborne! Papa: I’m kidding, of course! They’re so cute when they’re little, but you know what they’re like when they grow up. Anyway, I’m more than a little worried about the influence she might have our cub. Mama: What possible harm can she do when his father is around to teach him first? Papa: Oh, well, thank you dear. Mama: That wasn’t a compliment. Baby comes running back in. Baby: Mama, Papa, Goldilocks has just caved in Mr. Badger’s back door. Mama: Oh dear. How did she do that. Baby: Well, she was dropping Papa’s golf clubs down the hole. Papa: Wha… Baby: I told her not to! Anyway, she accidentally slipped and dropped the whole bag in. That door is plugged up good! Papa: Good thing that’s Badger’s summer home. He’s not home this time of year or we’d be hearing from him by now. I guess I’ll have to help him dig his door, and my clubs, out next spring. Whitby 84 Baby: But that’s not all; she found the axe. Mama: What??? Baby: She’s using it to chop wood. Papa: That’s not so bad… Mama: Wait, what wood. Baby: The roof of the woodshed. Papa: Huh? Mama: Run back outside and tell Goldilocks it’s time for her to go back home. Papa: We don’t have a woodshed. Mama: I know. Papa: Or an axe. Mama: I know. Papa: So what’s…? Mama: I hate to imagine. Goldilocks runs in breathless. Goldilocks: I think it’s time for me to go home. Mama: Yes dear, and Mr. Bear will escort you. Papa: What? She found her way here, she can find her way back. Mama: This wood is no place for a little girl. Papa: You got that right! Mama Osborne… Papa: Oh all right. Come on little girl, I’ll escort you home…but no shenanigans on the way. Whitby 85 Goldilocks: No sir; cross my heart. Papa: Uh-huh. Mama: Goodbye little one. You too Papa Bear. Come home safe…and soon. Papa and Goldilocks exit, stage right. Baby Bear slowly comes in covered in mud and leaves and sticks etc. Mama: Junior…What…? Baby: Don’t worry. The ducks are o.k. Mama: (crosses her arms in front of herself and prepares to hear it all) This had better be good… Baby: Goldilocks found a nest of ducklings and decided to put them on the pond to see if they could swim but she wasn’t sure they were old enough yet so she put the whole nest in a boat. Mama: What kind of boat? Baby: Your washtub. Mama: My new washtub? Baby: Uh-huh. Mama: Continue. Baby: So when the boat sank… Mama: Yes… Baby: Turns out the ducklings can swim after all! Mama: And my washtub? Baby: Not so much. Mama: And what about you…and your pajamas? Baby: I can’t swim as well as the ducks? Mama: (sighs) Get back out there and strip off that wet nightshirt. Whitby 86 Baby: Yes Mama. Baby exits stage left. Mama: Exasperating. Lights out. Whitby 87 SCENE TWO: BACK FROM TOWN Papa Bear enters to find mother knitting or cross-stitching. Mama: Osborne, you’ve been gone for hours. Well, how did it go? Papa: Not as well as you’d think. Mama: Why not? Papa Bear gestures toward the door and Goldilocks enters. Goldilocks: Hello Mrs. Bear. Mama: Oh, Hello dear. (she rounds on Papa) Osbourne, explain. Papa: Well, don’t blame me! It seems that this little girl has already gained quite the reputation for mischief in town. Mama: What do you mean? Papa: They wouldn’t let her in. Mama; That’s awful; you poor dear. (she crosses to Goldilocks to pat and embrace her) Why ever wouldn’t they let you into the village? Goldilocks: I don’t know Mrs. Bear, we were headed into town, minding our own business when suddenly everybody starts chasing us…with pitchforks, screaming things like “Get the thieving monsters,” and “Drive ‘em out of town,” and “Great! Now they’re working together.” Mama: Dear me. Goldilocks: And the worst part was we weren’t even finished checking the garbage cans yet. Mama: OSBORNE ALOISIUS BEAR! You took her dumpster diving!?! Papa: It was her idea! She’s experienced! And you should see her go too: I have to knock the cans over, but she swims in and out of those cans like a river otter after a mackerel. It was beautiful to see. Mama looks at Goldilocks in disbelief and Goldilocks shrugs sheepishly Goldilocks: You find some pretty interesting things hiding in the bins. Whitby 88 Mama stands, mouth open and speechless, for a beat or two as Baby enters throwing a ball up and down. Baby: Hey, she’s back! Does that mean we get to keep her? Papa and Mama: NO! Mama: No dear. I’ve still got time to get her back to the village before supper. Papa’s turn to look incredulous Papa: You’re taking her back now? Mama: If you want the job done right… Papa: Oh hoh! Good luck with that. You didn’t see the villagers. They’ve got a grudge against this one for some reason, and I’m not talking about the usual hassle they give me. They’re seeing red…well, gold. Baby: Mama, she could borrow my red girl cape…as a disguise. Mama: Good idea, Junior. Get it for her please, while I get my things. Goldilocks: Please, don’t worry about me. I know some secret ways into town. They’ll never catch me. Mama: Little girl, you are full of surprises, but I want to have a talk with your parents. Goldilocks: Yes Ma’am. Baby: Here you go Goldie. Goldilocks: Oooh, that’s nice. Baby: You can keep it. Mama: All right, I’m ready. Let’s go Goldilocks. Baby: Can’t I go too? I could help you if you ran into trouble. Mama: That’s what I’m afraid of…trouble; and one little bundle of trouble is enough on this trip. No offence Sweet Pea, but remember the ducks. Papa: It’s probably better if you let Mom handle this one in her own way, Junior. Good Luck, Bernice. (Goodbyes all around as Mama and Goldilocks exit stage left). Now let’s get down to business. Let’s say you give me a hand with that chair. Whitby 89 Baby: OK, Pop. Exit stage left. Whitby 90 SCENE THREE: BACK FROM TOWN…AGAIN Mama Bear returns, chagrined, to find Papa bear working on the broken chair. Papa: See if you can find two more penny nails…and some duct tape. Oh hello dear. We’re just about finished up here. How did your errand turn.... Goldilocks sticks her head around the door, behind Mama Goldilocks: Hello. She ducks back out for a second while Papa has his “I told you so” moment. Papa: Ha! I told you. I told you. They wouldn’t let you in either, huh? Mama: Actually…its worse than that. Goldilocks reenters hefting a large suitcase. Papa: What? Oh no. No! What happened? Mama: It’s only for a couple of weeks. Papa: A COUPLE OF WEEKS!?! But how? Mama: Well, it seems that our Goldilocks doesn’t live here in town at all. Goldilocks: I’m just visiting. Mama: Go on… Goldilocks: Weeeell I got into a teensy weensy bit of trouble back in my own village so Mama sent me to stay with my Aunt Tillie for a while…just until things calmed down a bit…so… Papa: Do we know Aunt Tillie? (Mama pantomimes a long beard behind Goldilocks’ back.) Oh, that Aunt Tillie. So how? (gestures to the suitcase) Why? Mama: Well, there’s been a bit of trouble here as well – as you very well know – so Aunt Tillie asked us if we could watch after the girl, just for a couple of weeks, until she can smooth things over…since she already knows her way around the place… Papa: But we hibernate in a couple of weeks! Goldilocks: Oh please Papa Bear. I do so love it here… Whitby 91 Papa: Well… Baby: Wow, she’s back! Does that mean we get to keep her? Papa and Mama: Yes. Papa: But just for a couple of weeks! Goldilocks and Baby: Wowee! Baby: Just think of the fun we’ll have. They start to move toward the back door. Goldilocks Oh I’m thinkin’, I’m thinkin’! Baby: So what happened to the red cloak? Goldilocks Oh…that was stolen property. It belongs to a girl who lives on the other side of the woods. Baby: Figures. They exit. Papa: This is just getting worse and worse… Mama: I know. Papa: So explain again how you got talked into this… Mama: Well, it’s a matter of choice or surprises. Papa: Explain. Mama: Well, it was either have her here by choice, or have her here anyway when she showed up everyday. At least this way we know where she is…most of the time. Papa: We’re never going to get rid of this…surprise visitor… Mama: Well, who knows, maybe we’ll all learn something from Goldilocks by the time this is over. Papa: That’s what I’m afraid of… Whitby 92 In comes Baby, full of exuberance. Baby: Did you see that? Wowee, is she brave! Mama: Why? Baby: She showed me how to rile up the bees without even going near their nest. Mama: What? Papa: How’d she do that? Baby: She threw nuts at them from behind the old oak. Papa: Ah. Where is she now? Baby: Running away. Mama: From the bees? Baby: No…from Mrs. Squirrel. Papa: Why? Baby: They were her nuts…Wow. Look at her now! (Mama and Papa crowd about to look out the back door) Wowee! She is good at climbing trees! (CRASH) Oh. Maybe not. No; she’s okay! Except now the bees are after her. Mama: Osborne, you two had better help her out. Papa: Why, she looks like a fast runner? Mama: Osborne. Papa: Oh all right. This is going to be a long two weeks. Mama: Exasperating. Papa: You can say that again. Papa and Baby exit. Mama waits a beat then calls after them. Mama: Don’t run through my…laundry. Lights out Whitby 93 ACT 3: A CHANGE OF INFLUENCE SCENE ONE: A VISIT FROM THE CONSTABULARY The Doorbell rings and Mother Bear answers, wiping her hands on her apron. Mama: Oh…come in Sheriff. What can I do for you? Sheriff: Uh, Yes Ma’am, are you the guardian of a little girl named…(checks clipboard) Goldilocks: Blonde hair, blue cap, about this tall, of indeterminate age? Mama: Temporarily, yes. Sheriff: Okay then, Super. .. Mama: (with ominous dread) Why? What has she done? Sheriff: What hasn’t she done? Mama: Recently? Sheriff: We-el, there have been allegations that she has taken to walkin’ through the forest pickin’ up the field mice and boppin’ em on the head. Mama: Oh dear. Sheriff: Then we got a complaint that on Tuesday she was hiding under the high-field bridge, teasing billy goats. Mama: Really? Billy goats? Sheriff: Oh yeah. She was apparently acting like quite the little troll. Mama: Is there more? Sheriff: Well, one of our informants tells us that on Thursday she helped B. B. Wolf destroy Silly Pig’s brand new straw house. Mama: Well! Where is she now? Sheriff: Now come on in here now young lady. Goldilocks enters, head hanging low, looking sheepishly at Mama from out of a mop of curls. Mama: Goldilocks, how could you? Whitby 94 Sheriff: That’s not all Ma’am. She has reportedly been eating pieces of old widow Sugar’s house of gingerbread. Mama: Little girl, what do you have to say for yourself? Goldilocks: Uh… Sheriff: Oh she’s not the only one! Sheriff gestures off stage and Baby Bear enters, head hanging low, looking sheepishly at Mama. Mama: Junior, not you too? Baby: Yes Mama. Sheriff: They snuck up to the gingerbread house and started vandalizing the property…with their teeth. When Old Widow Sugar came out to scold them they gave some sob story about being a brother and sister lost in the woods. She didn’t believe them, however, and when she said as much they threw gumdrops through her glazed windows and called her…(Sheriff leans over and stage whispers this to mama) a witch! Mama: Sweet old Widow Sugar? Goldilocks! Junior Bear! Sheriff: And that’s not all Ma’am. Just an hour ago I caught them trespassing down at the old forest tower… Mama: The old gardener’s tower? Sheriff: That’s the one. Mama: What were they doing there? Sheriff: They were playing tricks on a passing prince, pretending that there was a beautiful princess locked in the tower. But when the prince climbed up to effect a rescue…wow what a surprise. Mama: What surprise? Sheriff: Well, they weren’t the only ones there… Sheriff gestures off stage and Papa Bear enters, wearing a Rapunzel wig. Baby and Goldilocks chuckle with Papa. They all stop at a sharp look from Mama. Mama: Will there be any charges? Whitby 95 Sheriff: There are some pending Ma’am, but it’ll come to community service most likely. Just see that you all keep out of trouble now, so’s I don’t have to come back here. Okay then; B’bye now. Sheriff leaves and all follow her out with their eyes. Mama clears her throat and three heads turn her way. She sighs. Mama: Well? Papa: Uh…actually, it’s really funny, heh; I climbed up in the tower and let down my long golden hair and… Mama: On second thought…I don’t want to know. You and you – get out back and…take that off. I’ll talk to you later. (Papa and Baby leave, chagrined. Goldilocks starts to follow but Mama stops her with her name) Goldilocks, (pats the back of the chair). Let’s have a little heart to heart. (Goldilocks slowly sits down. Like every kid, she knows what’s coming). Goldilocks, you are a very bright girl – and I don’t just mean the color of your hair. You are smart and full of energy, and most of the time, you’re the kind of kid everybody wants to have around. Heaven knows that it’s certainly been exciting having you here this week. Goldilocks: Oh thank you. I could live here forever. Mama: That would be…nice; but little girl, lately, you have been acting like you’re living in a fairy tale… Goldilocks: Oh I love fairy tales, especially the kind with beautiful princesses and pumpkin carriages, and princes that sweep you off your feet – but not the kissing kind, that’s gross. And then theirs the kind with the knights that slay the dragons and… Mama: Yes but, Goldilocks honey, this isn’t that kind of fairy tale. Goldilocks: It isn’t? Mama: No. Goldilocks: What kind of fairy tale is it. Mama: It’s the kind of fairy tale with a bad guy in it…someone who causes all kinds of trouble for the other people in the story. A someone who makes life…uncomfortable and even sometimes a little scary. Goldilocks: Really!?! You mean like the Big Bad Wolf and…and…(almost whispers) the Evil Queen? Whitby 96 Mama: Yes Goldilocks: Whoa! (she draws a little closer to Mama Bear) Who’s the bad guy in this story? Mama: (with a sympathetic smile)…You are. (Goldilocks looks up at Mama Bear, wide-eyed and surprised). You see, child, this story is your story. And right now, you’re not even |
| Format | application/pdf |
| ARK | ark:/87278/s6j2g9dm |
| Setname | wsu_smt |
| ID | 96756 |
| Reference URL | https://digital.weber.edu/ark:/87278/s6j2g9dm |