The Airs of the Toys script

This is my favorite script, out of the few that I've written. So far, people have really liked it (meaning some of my family, which is obligated to say that it's good, and our improv/acting/goof off group).

The Airs of the Toys by Katie Schultz

Cast:

Manager

Harold

Barry

Props:

Whiteboard

Whiteboard marker

Whiteboard eraser

2 Chairs

Table

Cards

Poker chips

(Everyone enters. All but Manager sit on chairs in a circle. Manager stands by whiteboard.)

Manager: Since you guys are new, let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves. I’m Taylor and I’m the CEO of the company.

Barry: It’s hard to find a tailor these days. How much would you charge to fix this hole in my sleeve?

Manager: (sighs) My name is Taylor. What is yours?

Barry: It’s Barry.

Harold: I like those mixed-berry flavored yogurts. You must also, because your name is Barry.

Manager: You. (Points to Harold.) What is your name?

Harold: Harold.

Barry: Well, at least I’m not one of those loud people who goes around yelling out what time it is.

Harold: I’d rather be that than a blueberry.

Manager: Focus, guys, focus.

 Barry: Ford, guys, Ford.

Manager: What?

Barry: You talked about a Focus, so I talked about a Ford. Ford makes Focuses.

Harold: Isn’t that Focusi?

Manager: Stop! Now, I called you all here today because this is the annual meeting of

Swindlers Employed for Tots. We have a lot-

Harold: To sell?

Manager: What?

Harold: You said you had a lot. Where is it and how much is it? I’m interested in one.

Manager: Never mind. As I was saying, we have a bunch of work to cover today, so let’s start. First on the agenda are the heirs of the company.

Barry: Is someone stealing our air? We must stop them before we die of suffocation!

Manager: (Glares at Barry) I meant the people who will take care of the company when we die. They’ve been acting odd lately.

Harold: So would I.

Manager: What?

Harold: I would be in a state of wonder too.

Barry: Can’t you count? Don’t you know that one comes before two?

Harold: Don’t tell me no!

Barry: Oh yeah?

Harold: Yeah!

Manager: Guys! Guys! Pay attention. We have stuff to do! (Draw a line on whiteboard.) Now as you can see, sales are down this quarter. Does any-

Harold: No wonder they are. We don’t sell nautical-type stuff.

Barry: How did you work 25 cents into this discussion?

Harold: Don’t you have any sense?

Barry: Do we sell perfume?

Manager: People! People!

Harold: Life! Life!

Barry: Sports Illustrated! Sports Illustrated!

Manager: Never mind. Wil-

Barry: I’ll keep the one I have, thank you very much.

Manager: (Through gritted teeth.) What is it this time?

Barry: You said never mind. I said that I’d keep my brain. It’s very handy to have around.

Harold: No, it’s not.

Barry: (to Harold) I couldn’t live without it.

Harold: (to Barry) A brain and a hand are two completely different things. Where did you go to school?

Barry: Czechoslavia. I’m a Czech.

Harold: Really? You don’t look like one. I thought a check was a relatively secure form of money.

Barry: Don’t bring your relatives into the picture.

Manager: Let’s change the subject.

Harold: Why do I need to change?

Barry: Your clothes are fine, except for the coffee stain to the right of your tie.

Harold: I didn’t write on my shirt! And I’m not from Thailand! I’m from Iowa.

Barry: Yes, you owe me five dollars.

Manager: Will you stop! (Barry and Harold look at Manager.) We have things to decide about the future of the company today. Now as I was saying (turns to whiteboard) sales are down. Partly, this is (Harold looks really sleepy and lays his head on the table.) because of the economy, and partly because there was a big recall a few months ago and people haven’t trusted us since. Besides improving the quality of our toys, what else can we do? (Turns back around.) Hey! (Walks to Harold.) Wake up! This is a meeting! Pay attention! (Reaches to Harold’s shoulder to shake him awake.)

Barry: Don’t wake him up! He’s got insomnia and he’s trying to sleep it off.

Harold: (Stretches and yawns.) Are we done yet? If we aren’t, where are the donuts?

Manager: (Turns to whiteboard and erases the line and begins writing. Barry and Harold set up a poker game and begin playing while Manager talks.) You guys! I am trying to get stuff done. If you won’t help, you can just leave. This is a toy company. We have to sell toys or we are all in deep trouble. For one thing, none of us will have a job. That means that there will be nobody will be able to feed themselves or their families. It also means that a quite a few people will be unemployed. (Turns around.) For another-hey! What are you doing?

Harold: Playing poker. See the chips?

Barry: This table is perfect for poker. We can organize the chips into the coffee ring stains. (Turns to Manager.) Do you have any guacamole chips? I always think better while eating them.

Manager: No!

Harold: I like eating chocolate chips. I wonder how guacamole and chocolate would taste.

Barry: I don’t think it would taste that good. Try guacamole and salsa sometime.

Harold: Hmm. How about we play poker next Tuesday and you make the guacamole/salsa mixture and I’ll bring chips.

Manager: Leave!

Harold: Thanks for the kind invitation, but we already have the game set up. Will you be quiet so we can concentrate? (Manager leaves in disgust. Harold and Barry high-five,  pick up game and leave.)

Improv Practice script

Improv Practice written by Katie Schultz

                                                                   

This is based, once again, on a conversation Borrik Svenson and I had. Yes, you should worry.

Captain Dreadnaught: Want to practice improv tonight?

Borrik Svenson: No.

Cap: Why?

Bor: Too busy.

Cap: You’re always too busy.

Bor: Yup.

Cap: It’s impossible to carry on a conversation with you!

Bor: Yup.

Cap: We should put this into script form. (Pulls out paper and pencil, writes.) What did we say after this?

Bor: Don’t know.

Cap: Anyway, why don’t you want to practice improv?

Bor: Because I don’t want to.

Cap: But you want to improve at improv, don’t you?

Bor: Yeah.

Cap: So why don’t we practice now? No time like the present.

Bor: Because I’m going to be eating and I kind of like to eat instead of talk.

Cap: So you can’t carry on a conversation while eating? I don’t care if you talk with your mouth full. I’m not 

picky about table manners. (Bor slurps popsicle.) Please? (Bor slurps.) Will you practice improv if I do the dishes?

Bor: Yeah.

Cap: Hmmm…I’ll do the dishes.

Bor: You waited too long. Due to inflation, you have to give me your allowance now too.

Cap: That’s highway robbery!

Bor: This isn’t exactly a highway.

Cap: Not all people have to be bribed to practice improv!

Bor: So?

Cap: Do you realize that we’ve been practicing improv all this time?

Bor: No, we haven’t.

Cap: Yes, we have.

Bor: We’ve just been carrying on a conversation.

Cap: Technically, we’ve been practicing improv.

Bor: Actually, we’ve been carrying on a conversation.

Cap: (frustrated) If you’d just admit that I’m right, this could all be settled.

Bor: I’d rather swallow a live hamster.

Cap: Gross!

Bor: How did this conversation start?

Cap: I, the brilliant one, wanted to practice improv. You did not.

Bor: And you say we’ve been doing improv all this time.

Cap: That’s what I said.

Bor: So, you stole improv practice from me.

Cap: What?!

Bor: I’ll have to contact my insurance company.

Cap: No, you misunderstood. I…uhh…

Bor: See? I win.

Cap: Now wait a minute!

Bor: Nope. I won. (Exits.)

Cap: Sore loser. (Exits.)

Florida Medical Board Call scene

This is a "transcript" of the Florida Medical Board Call scene from the Marx Brothers movie At The Races. The reason transcript is in quotes is because Borrik Svenson and I (Captain Dreadnaught) didn't agree on at least one line. (I still think know I'm right.) Anyway, for your enjoyment:

Transcript of the “Florida Telephone Call” scene from the Marx Brothers movie “A Day At The Races” transcripted by Katie and Will Schultz

Cast:

Groucho

Mr. Whitmore

(Scene starts with Grouch sitting at a desk. Mr. Whitmore is also sitting at a desk with a telephone on the other side of a wall.)

Groucho: (Picks up telephone) Get me Mr. Whitmore.

(Phone rings)

Whitmore: (Picks up phone) Hello?

Groucho: (Pinches nose and talks in a Southern female voice) This is your Florida call, Mr. Whitmore.

Whitmore: All right. (Sits down at his desk)

Groucho: (Talks in a Southern female voice) Florida Medical Board. Good morning.

Whitmore: I’d like to talk to the man in charge of the records, please.

Groucho: Record department? Just a moment, sugar.

Whitmore: (Stares at the telephone in surprise for a moment before putting it back to his ear)

Groucho: (Changes to a Southern male voice) Record department. This is Colonel Hawkins talking.

Whitmore: Colonel Hawkins, did you get a wire from me regarding Dr. Hackenbush?

Groucho: I’m sorry sir, (starts fan on his desk and pushes a paper into it) but there’s a hurricane blowing down here, and you’ll have to talk a little louder. Whooooe! Sure is the windiest day we ever seen or heard! Whooo! Certainly is windy!

Whitmore: (Stars at the phone again for a bit before talking again in a louder voice) I want to know about Dr. 

Hackenbush!

Groucho: (Flips switch on the Dictagraph)

Whitmore: (Goes over to the Dictagraph and flips a switch on it, taking the phone away from his ear in the 

process) Yes?

Groucho: (Talking into the Dictaphone in his normal voice) Whitmore, you’ll have to cut out all that 

squawking! The patients are all complaining!

Whitmore: (Sits back down at his desk and puts the phone back to his ear)

Groucho: (Talking into the phone in his Southern accent) And, uh, ah hope, sir, that’s the information that you 

requiah.

Whitmore: I’m sorry, Colonel, I didn’t hear it. I was called to the Dictagraph.

Groucho: What was that you said, suh?

Whitmore: (In a louder tone) I was called to the Dictograph!

Groucho: (Flips on the Dictograph)

Whitmore: (Again goes to the Dictograph, taking the phone away from his ear in the process)

Groucho: Whitmore, one more yelp out of you and I’ll have you bounced outta here!

Whitmore: (Goes back to his desk and puts the phone back to his ear)

Groucho: And, uh, I trust, suh, that that answers your questions.

Whitmore: I’m terribly sorry, Colonel. I didn’t heah you.

Groucho: I can’t hear you. You’ll have to talk a little louder.

Whitmore: (Loudly) I want to find out something about Hackenbush!

Groucho: (Flips on the Dictagraph)

Whitmore: (Goes over to the Dictagraph, taking the phone away from his ear) (Shouts) Well, what is it now?!

Groucho: Whitmore, that’s the last time I want to warn you about that yowling!

Whitmore: (Goes back to his desk and puts the phone back to his ear)

Groucho: And, uh, in conclusion, let me see…

Whitmore: I’m sorry, Colonel. What was that you said about Hackenbush?

Groucho: Hacken- you mean Dr. Hackenbush? Oh no, he’s not heah.

Whitmore: (In a frustrated tone) I know he’s not there. He’s HERE!

Groucho: Then what are you bothering me fo? Yankee!

Whitmore: But I want to know something about his Florida record!

Groucho: (Pinches his nose and talks in a Southern female voice) He’s your Florida call, Mr. Whitmore.

Whitmore: (Yells) Will you get off the line! (Goes back to his normal voice) Hello? Hello, Colonel?

Groucho: (In a Southern male voice) Yes?

Whitmore: Are you sure you’re speaking of Dr. Hugo Z. Hackenbush?

Groucho: Who?

Whitmore: Hugo Z. Hackenbush!

Groucho: Who’s calling ‘im?

Whitmore: (In a frustrated tone) Standish Sanitarium.

Groucho: Yeah, that’s where he works! Ah understand he’s doing a mighty fine job up there!

Whitmore: I… (Stops, and talks in a barely controlled tone) I want to get some information about his 

qualifications for the job.

Groucho: What job?

Whitmore: As Head of the Sanitarium!

Groucho: Who?

Whitmore: (Shouts) HACKENBUSH!

Groucho: (Flips on the Dictaphone)

Whitmore: (You should have the idea by now)

Groucho: Whitmore, are you calling me?

Whitmore: NO, YOU SAP!! (Goes back to his desk) Hello?

Groucho: Yes, now, what was that name?

Whitmore: Hackenbush. HACKENBUSH!!

Groucho: Uh-huh. Well, uh, as soon as he comes in, ah’ll have him get in touch with you.

Whitmore: GAAH! (Slams phone down on the receiver and leaves)

(Both exit)