Improv Alone

Hello

Helloooooooo

Can you hear me???

Is there and echooooo?

The canyon is so Grand.

Then that is what we should call it!

Hellooooo?

A teenage girl is riding the white water with her aunt and uncle.

They’ve agreed to take her off her parents hands for the summer while they tour national parks.

They are avid bird watchers.

The girl is generally bored. But occasionally there is a cute teenage boy in a national park and she puts those binoculars to use.

On the raft, there is a not so cute teenage boy. But he is beginning to look cuter and cuter the border and border she gets.

She decides to wink at him, because that is something she’s seen happen on TV shows like Fuller House and the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.

His face sunburn gets redder.

She does it again.

His face turns red purple.

She does it nonstop.

His face turns blue and then black and then goes up in smoke.

People choking on smoke.

I can’t breathe.

Get me out of here.

Save my cat. I must save my cat.

The family photographs. Don’t forget!

I hope a sexy fireman saves me.

I hope I don’t have third degree burns.

I hope my face still looks pretty.

I hope I don’t inhale too much smoke and get lung cancer.

I hope this causes me to quit smoking.

I hope I get lots of insurance for the barn and I can build a better barn.

I hope…

I hope…

I hope…

I make a million dollars.

Donald, just stop replacing the sunscreen with lotion. It’s not funny.

But it’s the only way you will let me tan, Ma.

Donald, don’t you remember what your father looked like before he had all that skin cancer cut off his damn face?

He was a good looking man, well better looking.

So why ya gotta go and play tricks just to get a tan. You’re gonna end up just like your old man.

I just. I just. I heard the senior girls talking about how nobody likes a pale boy. And I want to ask Maria to prom. And she is very tan. I don’t want to be that pale boy.

Is that all Donald?

Well, yeah. That’s most of it.

What else?

Well, I just. I just heard that girls like scars. In a way. And I thought, well, maybe even though dad’s not as good looking now in a classical way, maybe if I were tan and had some battle wounds from getting cancer surgery more girls would think I was datable.

Have you been taking those are you datable quizzes in Men’s Health again? I told you that stuff is trash. If you really want to know if you are datable, just ask yourself these three things. 1) Am I nice to my mother? 2) Do I have a stable job? 3) Can I ballroom dance?

Tanness, scars, these things are all superficial. Girls don’t really care about that stuff. That’s just what they talk about. In their heart of hearts, they want to date a boy who has the trifecta of datability - mom, job, waltz.

I don’t know mom.

Well I’d know.

It’s all I could save in the fire Father Benedict.

It’s enough my son.

I feel so guilty, though.

Your sins have already been forgiven, Friar Tucker. You know that.

But when I think of all the alms that have been donated by poor widows - her last mite father. What a waste!

You can’t think of that, son. Remember the prostitute who poured all her perfume on the feet of our lord. Waste is not our Lord’s greatest fear. Fear and worry - now those are the most wretched of sins.

Father, your words speak life to my soul. I have felt so wretched.

It says much about the greatness of your love for the least of these that all you managed to save was a baby mouse, my son.

Yes, well, I couldn’t bear the squeaking.

No?

No. You see, I had a bird when I was a child. And the bird ate nothing but mice. Each morning I had to feed baby mice to the bird one by one. Three mice each morning.

I see.

And the squeaks would haunt my sleep each night. Squeeeeek. Squeeeeek. Like a recurring nightmare but it wasn’t a nightmare, it was real life. My life.

And so the pain you experienced killing these mice each day gave birth to compassion in your soul, is that right?

I’m not sure father, but if that is your assessment I will gladly take this as truth.

I do worry my son that living in this barn until the monastery is rebuilt will be a source of many troubles for you in your sleep. Titmice run rampant in these walls of wood. I will bless you with holy water for protection.