This comic monologue is printed here in its entirety, though written for a male actor, by changing a few pronouns, the piece could be adapted for use by an actress.

(An actor carrying an umbrella, enters. He/she  is anything but a leading man/lady: perhaps he is bald, perhaps pudgy, perhaps very short, perhaps… something different. But not a leading man. He speaks forward to the audience, which represents the two or three people auditioning him.)

Actor: My resume. (He takes out a three-by-five card, and spins it forward, of the front of the stage.) Oh, first I should mention that I could play any of the parts in this play. Any. I could play an ant, I could play Little Red Riding Hood, I could play Hamlet. I’ve never heard of this play, as a matter of fact. It doesn’t matter. I can do opera, I can do commercials, I can sing soprano, I can do my own stunts- I’m that versatile. Leading man, leading lady, gay, ingenue- you name it, I can do it. That’s how great I am. I see you looking over my resume. Noticing I’ve never had a part. It’s a real comment on this sick business we’re in, isn’t it? An actor this good (he thumps his chest ) and he’s blackballed! Why? For refusing to show up at auditions! Auditions are beneath me. I wipe my feet on them. People should be begging me to grace their theatres- producers should be asking me to audition them! But those egomaniacs who should bow and scrape before me - they have forced me to betray my principles and come to this (said with utter contempt) audition. (the word is practically spat, or vomited out. The contempt with which the actor feels this word is the key of the scene.)
So no, no, don't blame me for demeaning myself in this grotesque position… I’ve waited ten years for them to come crawling… but suffice it to say they were too wrapped up in their own insane… trivium to get the hint. But enough of them. Let’s get to the situation at hand. You’re sitting there typecasting me as a leading man aren't you? You’re thinking that because of my matinee idol glorious good looks, and rich, sensuous, sexy, seductive, fetching, effervescent, tingly and charming voice, I could only play a male lead. No, I tell you, no! Observe! An ant! (He crawls along the floor in a normal way.) And now, King Lear! (He opens his umbrella and pretends, in an awkward mime, to be blown around the stage.) I needn't mention, of course, that that was the fabulous storm scene, out on the heath. And now, Brutus, impaled on his own sword! (Closes the umbrella, stabs himself with it in the stomach. Dies, rather flatly.)
And here’s a homicidal lunatic: (he gets up, picks up the umbrella, waves it threatening forward, like a sword. This part seems real. ) Give me the part or I’ll kill you! I’ll poke out the vile grape jelly of your eyes with the point of my umbrella! I’ve been waiting ten years for this! (Puts the umbrella down.)
OK. All the parts. I should play all the parts in you little production. Capiche? Capiche. Note the mastery of the Spanish dialect. I do it all. Now, with that in mind, here’s my… (Abrupt pause)
What do you mean my time’s up? I haven’t done my monologue yet! (Beat) What do you mean, next? Where do you get off saying next?! I memorized this thing! I took the subway here! I elbowed my way ahead of dozens of pushy actors and still had to wait a half hour to get in here! I wanna do my audition!