Little Mr. Muffet

[OPEN ON KEITH carrying a book that reads, "Little Miss Muffet"]

PETE: And... ACTION!
KEITH: A-ha-hem. Lit'le Miss Muffet...
ROGER: [from backstage, hissing] Miss?!
KEITH: Awright, awright! Lit'le MISTER Muffet sat on 'is tuffet, eatin' 'is brandy--I mean, curds, an' whey.

[ENTER ROGER, stage left, skipping. He is dressed in a little-boy-esque sailor suit, and is holding a bowl clearly marked "CURDS AND WHEY" and a spoon.]

ROGER: [stiffly] 'Ere I am, Lit'le Mister Muffet, eatin' me curds an' whey on me tuffet.
KEITH: Whassat?
PETE: Pardon?
KEITH: Wha's a 'tuffet'?
PETE: Oh, a tuffet's a mushroom.
KEITH: REALLY? [eyes go all wide as he races over to the "tuffet," pushes ROGER off, and thrusts his face onto it]
PROPMAN: 'S not a real tuffet. 'S made outta plastic.
KEITH: I fort it was funny-tastin'! P~TUI! [spits out tuffet piece]
ROGER: Eeeeww, it landed in me curds an' whey!

[PROPMAN hands ROGER a new bowl]

PETE: 'Ey, 'ow'd you get in 'ere? I'M the one 'oo does ev'ryfink!

[PROPMAN shrugs and walks away]

KEITH: Where was I? Oh yeah. Along came a spidah... [pauses, waiting for JOHN, as the spider, to hear his cue. Nothing happens] I said, "Along came a spidah..." [pauses. Nothing happens again] ALONG COMES A BLOODY SPIDAH!!
PETE: JUN! Tha' was your cue!
JOHN: [heard but not seen] I KNOW! Me arms are bloody stuck in the ropes up 'ere! [pauses for a second, struggling] I fink I got--AAAAAHH!

[JOHN lands with a "thump" next to ROGER]

KEITH: An' sat down beside 'er--er, 'im...
JOHN: [dressed as spider, with four extra arms] Pardon me, 's this seat taken?
KEITH: An'... uh... an'... LINE!
PETE: Look at the bleedin' book in front o' ya!
KEITH: Well, excUUUUUse me, but you 'ave 'appened to give me a BLANK book!
PETE: [exasperated] "An' frightened Miss Muffet away."
KEITH: Well, fanks. An' frightened Mr. Muffet away.
ROGER: Oh dear, a spidah. Aah. Wait, 'm not scared o' nuffin!
PETE: [near breaking point] Do your bloody bit, or you won't be able to go to the cast party!
ROGER: Fine. Oh dear me, I am so frightened. [drops bowl and spoon, scurries offstage]
JOHN: 'Ey, Keef, you want some brandy an' whey?
ROGER: [from backstage] 'Ey, when are the chicks comin' for the party? Gotta get rid o' this bloody ridiculous costume!
KEITH: [cheekily] I fink it looks nice on you, Rog!
ROGER: Shut up!
PETE: [sobbing] Cut... cut. WAAAAAAAH! Me dream... RUINED by you INCOMPETENTS!
PROPMAN: I rathah liked it, meself.