| The Star Spangled Girl By: Neil Simon |
| This play is just one of Neil Simon's comedies. When performing, do not try for humor because it is there. Norman has fallen for Sophie, the girl who moved in next door. Sophie is from the South and is upset while talking to Norman. |
| Sophie. Mr. Cornell, Ah have tried to be neighborly, Ah have tried to be friendly, and Ah have tried to be cordial... Ah don't know what your tryin' to be. That first night Ah was appreciative that you carried mah trunk up the stairs... the fact that it slipped and fell five flights was not your fault... Ah didn't even mind that personal message you painted on the stairs. Ah thought it was crazy, but sorta sweet. However, things have now gone too far... Ah can harldy accept gifts from a man Ah harly know... especially canned goods. And Ah can read your little note. Ah can guess the gist of it even though Ah don't speak Italian. This has got to stop, Mr. Cornell. Ah can do very well without you leavin' little chocolate-almond Hershey bars in mah mailbox--- they melted yesterday, and now Ah got three gooey letters from home with nuts in 'em---- and Ah can do without you sneakin' into mah room after Ah go to work and paintin' mah balcony without tellin' me about it. Ah stepped out there yesterday and mah slippers are still glued to the floor. And Ah can do without you tying big bottles of eau de cologne to mah cat's tail The poor thing kept swishin' it yesterday and nearly beat herself to death... And most of all, Ah can certainly do without you watchin' me get on the bus every day through that high-powered telescope. You got me so nervous the other day Ah got on the wrong bus. In short Mr. Cornell, and Ah don't want to have to say this again, leave me ay-lone! |
| The Dogs Written by: Emily Picha |
| I was outside on the porch one night, out there with my cat and my tea, writing in my journal, when I heard this howl. It came from my neighbors house, like some creepy horror movie. My cat scratched my face but I was too shocked to notice. She's one of those cats that despises dogs. I went to investigate. Barefoot, I walked across the lawn, my tea splashing all over my clothes. But before I could get there, I tripped and fell in the begonias. How fun. So, I was all wet and muddy. The dogs kept howling like there was no tomorrow. I was wondering if it was the apocolypse or something. I looked back to see if the lights were out in my house and if there was a meteor in the sky or something even more scary. Nothing. But the dogs kept howling. I felt miserably cold and gross. I was stepping on snails that were feeding on the new grass. I hate snails. Blech. But that's a whole 'nother story. I was nearing the fence when I heard a voice. It was a guy about my age, with sort of in the middle stages sound, calling the dogs in. I peered through the fence. There were two German Shepherds, a Chihuahua, and some mutty dog I didn't feel like taking notice of. Oh, but there was also the boy! I felt so sneaky. But 'lo and behold, the cat attacks my rear-end and I let out a shriek. The boy comes bounding over the fence. I'm trying to pry the cat off my butt. He takes one look at me through the slats, and lets out the male equivalent of a scream. Like he still believes in the boogie man or something. So what, I had mud all over my face and I had my little sister's Alf shirt on. I wasn't the boogie man. He asked what I was doing. I told himI'd let him know as soon as the cat stopped clawing at my arse. It was the beginning of a very... interesting friendship... |
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| Written in 1959, the play is set in Chicago's Southside 'sometime between World War II and the Present'. The title is from a Langston Hughes poem. It is about a Black family struggling. Beneatha is the ambitious granddaughter. She is speaking to a African Am. student who is interested in her. His lines are marked with astericks.* |
| A Raisin in the Sun Play written by: Lorraine Hansberry |
| Beneatha: Me?... Me?... Me, I'm nothing... Me. When I was very small... we used to take our sleds out in the wintertime and the only hills we had were the ice-covered stone steps of some house down the street. And we used to fill them in with snow and make them smooth and slide down them all day... and it was very dangerous you know... far too steep... and sure enough one day a kid named Rufus came down too fast and hit the sidewalk... and we saw his face just split open right there in front of us. And I remember standing there looking at his bloody open face thinking that was the end of Rufus. But the ambulance came and they took him to the hospital and they fixed the broken bones and they sewed it all up... and the next time I saw Rufus he just had a little line down the middile of his face... I never got over that. * That that was what one person could do for another, fix him up--- sew up the problem , make him all right again. That was the most marvelous thing in the world... I wanted to do that. I always thought it was the one concrete thing in the world that a human being could do. Fix up the sick, you know--- and make them whole again. This was truly being God. * No--- I wanted to cure. It used to be so important to me. I wanted to cure. It used to matter. I used to care. I mean about people and how their bodies hurt... |