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Monologue Mania Day #834 Death By Mail by Janet S. Tiger (c) May 26, 2016
This monologue was originally posted on Day #119 Death by Mail (c) June 11, 2014
For those wondering why more revised monologues, I just completed a one-act CAREGIVERS ANONYMOUS- if you would like to hear the first reading, please come Friday, May 27 Details here for FB and here for Scripteasers
Death by Mail
(An older man comes onstage, he is walking toward the door, and he sees something.)
Is that the mail? So early? Usually it doesn't come until after 5 pm!
(He goes to the door and picks it up where it fell on the floor)
(Surprised) Well, that's a lot today....
(As he leans over to pick it up, he gets hit with more mail.)
That really is a lot.
(Looking through)
What is all this crap? Wayband catalog.....brand new....wait, didn't I just get one of these yesterday?
(Goes to another surface, picks up a stack of mail)
Here it is.....Wayband.... everything you will ever need...from cradle to grave...buy now and save!
How many of these do they send in a week......this one came a couple of days ago! What a waste of paper! These damn catalogs will be the death of me yet!
(A lightbulb goes on over his head, he has an idea)
I know what to do....
(He takes the catalogs and shoves them back through the mail slot, wipes his hands- he won!)
There, that'll show them!
(He turns away, hears something and goes to the mail slot)
I know I just got the mail....
(He is stunned as a big pile of mail comes through the door, growing as he watches in horror)
What is going on here!
(He takes the mail and tries to stop the mail from coming in - no use. Next he tries to shove the mail back)
Stop it! I don't want any of this junk mail anymore!
(He pushes, but the mail keeps pouring in, he stumbles and falls, tries to push the mail off himself, but is being rapidly buried.)
(The mail continues to pour in, covering him until he is just a hand waving.) (Muffled) I take it back! I'll buy something! Anything! Just stop! (But the mail continues, and the hand slowly falls. As it falls, it picks up a catalog.......then holds it close.) (Voice is distant under all the mail) Cradle to grave...maybe they have a nice coffin in here..... (The end - but not of catalogs!) | ||
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