PHONE TALK
(a comedy sketch)
by Eleanor Tylbor

SCENE:
Two females – ELAINE AND SELMA – answer their cell/regular phones

ELAINE
Hello? Selma?

SELMA
Who are you and how d’ya know my name?

ELAINE
Gee – just lucky I guess! Get real, woman! It’s me!

SELMA
You…who?

ELAINE
Oh fer… Don’t you recognize the voice of your sister after all these years? I mean, really

SELMA
You sound different

ELAINE
(sniffing a few times)
I got a cold, that’s why!

SELMA
It is you, Elaine! Why didn’t you just say so?

ELAINE
I tried – God knows I tried! Moving right along…

SELMA
You’re sick? Stay away from me!

ELAINE
I can always count on you to have a sympathetic ear. Listen – I gotta go put drops in my nose so I’ll call you back

SELMA
Are you sure you should be talking to me? I mean – you could spread germs through the phone. These days you never know

ELAINE
Don’t take too long ‘cause I’m going out

(both hang up. Phones ring again)

SELMA
Hello?

ELAINE
It’s me again. Sorry – hadda take some new pills

SELMA
Oh? What kind?

SELMA
Go know! I take so many these days. Some for my sinus (she sniffs)…some for my throat (she coughs)… Yeah – lots of pills…

ELAINE
So what’s new?

SELMA
What could be new?

ELAINE
I dunno. That’s why I’m asking

(pause for 2 seconds)

SELMA
I lead a very boring life and most of it is spent in doctor’s waiting rooms

ELAINE
You? I have five appointments this week with five different doctors! Even they can’t find out what’s the matter with me

SELMA
Doctor Cohen sent me for tests, today

ELAINE
Your back?

SELMA
I never went away. Oh…you mean the problem with my crooked spine that pains me so badly? Same pain like always but what can you expect having Dr. Pain treating me…that quack!

ELAINE
A new doctor?

SELMA
That’s not his name. I just call him that. He keeps prescribing me pills that don’t work. I tell him, ‘doctor – gimme something that works!’ but does he listen? You should never know such pain. I suffer Elaine – I suffer plennnnnty!

ELAINE
You think that I don’t know pain? My neck is so sore, I can’t turn my head anymore

SELMA
So? Look straight ahead. Nothing much happens on the sides anyway

ELAINE
I’m serious! The back doctor gave me some free samples to try but they don’t work

SELMA
What kind of pills?

ELAINE
Lemme think a minute…they’re yellow…phila…feeda…fadda…something like that. Anyway, what do you care? You don’t have back problems

SELMA
So what? Maybe they’d be good for my shoulder. (moaning) Ohhhhhhhh….

ELAINE
This is new. You never mentioned shoulder pain before. Maybe try acupuncture. Freda Smith tells me that she goes to that Swedish guy, Hans Offer and it worked miracles for her

SELMA
(laughing)
I’ve heard about doctor Offer and believe me – needles aren’t the only things he gives her if you know what I mean. Look at the time

ELAINE
You’ve got an appointment?

SELMA
That’s later. I’m off to the shopping mall. Big sale today

ELAINE
What about you shoulder…and your neck pain…

SELMA
What’s a little ache between the bargains. You know what they say – when the going gets tough – the tough go shopping. So you’ll be ready in 10 minutes?

ELAINE
Make it fifteen. And Selma – bring along some of those new yellow pills

©2004 Eleanor Tylbor

The Very Merry Christmas/Holiday Pageant: Scene III

SCENE III

THE VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY PAGEANT (a group-written play)There is a bright yellow light above the stage that slowly gets larger and sparkly. Descending down from a rope with a hook attached to the back of her costume is the latke faery godmother, OIL DEPAN. She waves to the audience and the rope turns in circles. Finally, she attempts to remove herself from the rope but is stuck on the hook.

LATKE GODMOTHER, OIL DEPAN

(looking up)

Do you mind? Hello! The eagle has landed!(the rope starts to shake pulling her around the stage)Oi! I'm getting sea-siiiiiiick! Oh the union is gonna hear about this! Oh well... The show must go on

(FELICIA LOOKSGALORE is sitting by the fireplace, her head buried in her hands, sobbing and wailing out loud)

LATKE GODMOTHEROh! What - I mean, who do we have here? A sobbing scullery maid with yucky hands. Perhaps she needs some advice that only a godmother like myself can provide.

(she attempts to approach FELICIA but the rope keeps pulling her back)

LATKE GODMOTHER(staring upward and pulling on the rope)
I said,,, 'perhaps she needs advice that only I can provide...!' I need some rope!

(she approaches FELICIA)

(cont'd.) Um...excuse me but I can't help but notice that you are crying. Mind you I would cry too with those hands. Cheez - talk about gross!

(FELICIA looks up at the LATKE GODMOTHER, stops crying for a few seconds and then starts again)

LATKE GODMOTHERI mean, of course, you're breaking your Latke Godmother's heart.

FELICIA
(stops crying abruptly)
Are you my faery godmother?

LATKE GODMOTHERThat's what they tell me. Mind you, they've been wrong before. Last year for example, they sent me to Jennifer...Jennifer...what was her name now... Anssiton? Asston... Something like that. Seems she was having major tsouris (problems) with Brad somebody-or-the-other. I mean, I'm good but I can't work miracles! Know what I mean?

FELICIAIs it normal for latke godmother's to gossip about their clients? What can you do for me? Can you get me out of this kitchen and back to society where I really belong?

LATKE GODMOTHERHmmm... How about I teach you instead how to fry latkes? I'm good at that!

FELICIA

Who cares about latkes...

LATKE GODMOTHER

I'd be very careful how you choose your words from this point on...

FELICIA
mean, learning to make latkes is like, very important in life and please don't think I don't wanna learn but..

LATKE GODMOTHER
Good. First, we gotta find us some potatoes. I'm good at potato conjuring today. Maybe Yukon gold would be best... Then again, Idaho are good...

FELICIAMaybe...we could like, work on the latkes later?

LATKE GODMOTHER(distracted)
...of course red potatoes are sweet...but I think we should stick to Yukon Gold...

FELICIAI DON'T WANT TO MAKE LATKES! Got that? No potatoes. No latkes.

LATKE GODMOTHER

(shocked)

Oh...I see... Fine. No latkes.... She...doesn't want to make... latkes! You're trying to break my heart, aren't you? That's it, isn't it? You wanna break an old ladies heart.(she yanks the rope and looks upward)

LATKE GODMOTHERGimme more rope so I can hang myself!

FELICIAStop being so melodramatic! Did I say I don't like latkes? Noooo! I never said that! My exact words were, 'I don't wanna make them' period. Of course I love latkes. Doesn't everyone? What would the world be without latkes in it? Chanukah without latkes is like - um - well -

LATKE GODMOTHER
(looking upward)
Forget about the rope for now. You really mean that or are you just trying to make an old lady feel good?

FELICIA
I swear it's true! Really!

LATKE GODMOTHERWell...I suppose you could be telling the truth

FELICIAListen. Before we start on the latkes, shouldn't we do something about my hands? Look at them! A disgusting festering mess of...

LATKE GODMOTHER
(gagging)
Oi-vay...please...hide...them

FELICIASee what I mean? Even you, my latke godmother gets sick just hearing about them

LATKE GODMOTHER(burping and gagging)
Must be something I ate. Perhaps you should hide them...that is to say, keep them covered until I can concoct a magic potion. Hmmmmm... I think this calls for some advice from somebody with stronger magic.

(LATKE GODMOTHER starts to move her hands in a frenzy chanting,
'George Clooney. Brad Pitt. This princess needs help real quick!'
FELICIADon't tell me that they're - you know - one of your kind?

LATKE GODMOTHERDon't I wish! I just like to say their names. That's the closest an old lady like me will ever get

Suddenly there is a loud noise and a cloud of smoke and when the smoke clears we see....

To be continued...

Very Merry and Mirthful Christmas/Holilday Pageant

THE VERY MERRY AND MIRTHFUL CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY PAGEANT


Curtain up! Light the lights!

SCENE: The scullery of Lotsofeuros Mansion. Felicia Looksgalore, the beautiful and well-endowed but poverty-stricken sister of the three ugly Lotsofeuros sisters, Meesa, Reesa and Penelope, is sitting at the fireplace stirring a boiling cauldron of...something.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Oh woe is me, woe is me! My once beautiful hands are a shadow of what they used to be. Look at them now, a bleeding and festering mess of pus and blood.

(Audience gasps and gags)

AUDIENCE: GASP-GASP...GAG-GAG...

FELICIA
If only...if only there was a way that I could attend the annual Kosher Caterers Ball. I remember how much fun I used to have there. Lots of brisket (translation: cut of roast beef) and...and... Oh what's the use! How can I, Felicia Looksgalore, ever hope to look good enough to be one of the upper class twits once again! I am a shadow of what I used to be. I remember how much fun it was to be one of "them" and now I am a common scullery maid living beneath the stairs... Uh-oh - what do we have here?

(FELICIA bends over and picks up a sparkly lamp)

FELICIA
It looks like...a sparkly but tacky lamp. Perhaps it has magic qualities and I can make a wish on it... (she blows on it) Oooooo - gross! Dust! I shall clean this lamp with my apron. I wonder who owns this sparkling but tacky lamp.

(Suddenly there is a large bang and a puff of smoke. Once the smoke disappears, a figure emerges.

The figure becomes more clear. There stands the Sugarplum Queen. She sighs and brushes off her dress, straightens her tiara and coughs, daintily, of course.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Cough...cough...

When the audience sees that it is the queen, they gasp and then sigh at her extraordinary loveliness and ethereal delicateness...delicateism...delicate...okay, the queen looks divinely delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Cough, cough. Uh, where am I and who brought me here?

(The queen cups her hand above her eyes and peers around the stage and out into the audience)

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Who rubbed that darn thing again? Oh, spit, it's you. Are you whining again about your hands? I told you the last time, use Palmolive but, nooooooo, you don't listen!

(The queen admires her own porcelain smooth hands)

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
If you're not going to do what I have suggested the last fourteen times you've summoned me, then I can't help you

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
But...you're the Sugarplum Queen! I didn't summon you. I don't know why in the world you showed up. I don't need dermatological advice, I need help getting to the Kosher Caterers' Ball! Can you help me with that?

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
(with her hands on her hips)
Do I look like William Shatner? Priceline is four rubs-I'm six! Think before you rub, why doncha? Oh, damn, I chipped a nail.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
But I didn't summon you! You've never helped anyone get anywhere except to the cosmetic counter! I need help getting to the ball. I have no idea why you showed up.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
It's probably that darn Magic Lamp Union again. Either they can't get their act together or you still haven't learned to count. Eww... what is that you're boiling over there? You're not trying to cook again, are you?

(FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
(running back to the pot and stirs it again)
Oh, Lord! You've done made me let it burn!

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
First, you drag me here right in the middle of my manicure and then it's my fault that you can't cook or count? Give me a break! How about doing me a favor? Next time you wanna make a wish, rub the damn lava lamp! Stop rubbing that stupid unionized lamp! I have a very busy schedule and I can't be poofed off-(queen speaks in whiney, baby voice)- everytime some pathetic, whining scullery maid has visions of grandeur and hasn't been invited to 'the ball'-(making quotations gestures with her fingers). You wanna have visons of sugarplums, then let me know. But, I am booked up for the next month so vision something else for a while. Get a life....and put some lotion on those disgusting hands, for crying out loud.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Some fairy godmother you are! I don't know how you got the job!

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Listen, dirt-knuckles, I am not your 'fairy' god-anything! We are not relately, thank God. I am the Sugarplum Queen! You rubbed the stupid lamp wrong. It's not my fault that you are inept at lamp rubbing. Apparently, you can't cook or rub competently. Take it up with your real fairy godmother...if you can get her away from the blackjack tables. Now, I'm outta here. Your funk is burning again.

(The Sugarplum Queen fades away,coughing, in a puff of glittery gold smok)

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Oh great! Now, I have to sweep up her stupid gold residue!

(Felicia picks up the lamp again)

Dumped on again. Why me?

TO BE CONTINUED...