“Bird In My Ass” (comedy) 1-2 Minutes

Photo By Law Keven’s Photostream

Monologue Description: “Bird In My Ass”  is a comedy about a man experiencing something that seems to never have been experienced before unwilling.  This is a farce written as if something such as a bird flying in your butt could actually happen.  What if?

Character Description: In this monologue, Frederick bluntly, casually and seriously tells the story of how a bird flew up his ass, while reading the morning paper in Central Park.  He tells his tale to a neighbor whom he bumps into, upon coming back from emergency surgery.

FREDERICK:

A bird flew in my ass today.  Yeah.  I was sitting down in Central Park, just relaxing and reading the newspaper.  I felt fine.

Then all of a sudden, SWOOP, right in my ass…a bird.  A tiny bird the size of, oh, I don’t know, the size of my palm.  Really tiny, really tiny.  Just flew right in my butt, without any explanation.

What did I do?  I’m getting to that.  It’s not everyday that a bird scoops down at a million miles per hour and seeks shelter up in your private region.   Am I right?

Let me continue…

I stand up for obvious reasons and I proceed to wiggle my buttocks but nothing.  The bird won’t come out and I could feel it’s heartbeat pulsating.  Strangest feeling, let me tell you.  So I try walking it off…still, nothing.  Stubborn bird.  I started doing jumping jacks, nothing.  I began skipping, nothing.  I started running up a hill and back down a hill, nothing.  I dropped my draws and dipped my ass into the pond, nothing.  I went so far as to climb over a fence and start scraping my bum across the grass, rocks and dirt in order to free the fellow, like a dog scrapes it’s behind on a rug.  You’ve seen that right?  But still to no avail, nothing.  The bird stayed deep inside, clinging to the walls of my darkest of holies.

I was beginning to get fed up because as one would imagine, I had a bird in my ass.  Up until this point in time, I remained pretty calm about things.  I was upset about the hole in my pants though and still am because upon the bird’s entry, the small sucker piered through my suit pants.  I guess he had no choice.  I paid good money for these pants.

(shows him the hole in the back of his pants)

You see that?  You see the hole he burrowed.

Anyway, what was I to do?  I mean, what would you do, HONESTLY, take a moment and think about this…WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF A BIRD FLEW UP INTO YOUR ASS?

(beat)

Have an answer?  Would you panic and scream, would you freak out, would you faint?

I did non of the above.  I peacefully walked myself into the emergency and explained to the staff that while sitting in Central Park, reading my paper, a bird flew up and into my anus.  At first, the doctors laughed but when I bent over to show them, they became curious.  I told the doctor that I was willing for him to listen, as PROOF that a bird resided in my tooshy. 

Of course the Doctor thought I was mad but a nurse, a sweet nurse heard a noise.  Everyone suddently heard the noise because the bird was churping.  I had a churping bird in my ass…What happened next?

I will tell you.  The staff set me down on my stomach, then strapped me.  I had x-rays done which confirmed that there was indeed, a bird in my rear.

I was rushed in for surgery and when I awoke, there was no more bird.  I was fine.  A little sore but fine.  I was given some pain killers and that was it.  I didn’t even make the news.  Imagine?

Strange.  As far as the bird was concerned, he made it.  He lived.  They were able to pull him out of my ass, UNHARMED.  Miraculous, these Doctors of the day.  Miraculous heroes. 

BIRD IN MY ASS - PART 2

“Smoke” (drama) 1-2 Minutes

Photo By Anticline’s Photostream

Monologue Description: “Smoke” is a piece about looking at the beauty of things without taking them for granted.  There is beauty in life all around us, all we need to do is stop, acknowledge it and take it in.

Character Description: In this monologue, Martini Van Haggard is an adventurer, writer and photographer.  He travels the world in order to study the world and partake in all cultures.  He thinks of himself in a similar fashion to Indiana Jones, but this is of course an exaggerated version of how he sees himself.  Sometimes we can take ourselves to seriously and Martini Van Haggard is no exception. 

There is sophistication in him and an amazing knowledge of life based on the travels he has made around the world.  In this monologue, Martini stops and considers how something as simple as smoke does not take a back seat to the beauty he has witnessed in the world.  He expresses his point of view to his dear friend Walter, another man of high sophistication, an intellectual who has written dozens of books about the human condition.  

Setting:  This monologue scene takes place in Martini’s private study.  An old fashioned study with polished wooden bookshelves and framed maps hanging from the walls, a giant globe positioned grandly on the floor, near a window at the corner of the room.  Hand crafted sheepskin chairs sit on top of an Egyptian rug, 24 karat gold wine drinking glasses from Spain sit on a coffee table hand made in Florence, Italy.   

MARTINI VAN HAGGARD:

Smoke moves like the clouds on a sunny afternoon in view.  Light reflects itself through this wisp of smoke.  Reminiscent of the time I spent studying and traveling through sand dunes.  This smoke coils like that of a surreal Salvador Dali painting or better yet, a Van Gogh.  Yes.  A painting that doesn’t keep its shape, in constant flux, reforming itself into further beauty, captivating my eyes.

Who knew smoke could be so beautiful?  When one thinks of smoke, one thinks of fire or tobacco but if one were to look upon smoke for smoke’s sake, there could be wonder to the imagination.

I reach my hand out to this ghostly figure in order to touch it’s simplicity and yet it motions away at my attempt.  Fascinating, as if I am not aloud to be part of its creation.  I am only an onlooker, a watcher, an observer of this element.

This is just smoke but it is not just, JUST.  There is no JUST in anything my good friend.  There is always more.  My travels around this world have taught me that.  I have explored the Amazon, backpacked through Europe, experienced Mount Everest, lived with Tribal communities that people here in America don’t know exist.  I have written books in Fiji where I lived for one year, I have explored the various species of woman from all walks of life, have tasted the culture of Japan, China, Russia, Australia, Israel and in tiny villages that barely make it on the maps that hang on these walls.   I speak 12 languages and have read all the great works of literature, science, psychology, physiology, business, religion, theatre and more…

Yet…yet I am fascinated by a wisp of smoke blown out from my mouth into a beam of light and I remain sullen from it’s form.

(beat)

That’s the miracle. 

“Empty Pockets, Empty Dreams” (drama) 2 Minutes

Photo By Ksionic

Monologue Description: “Empty Pockets, Empty Dreams” is a dramatic piece that talks about getting out of the the way, for someone that matters most to you.  Sometimes in life, we need to take a step back and recognize the affect of our actions.  It is only in times of true realization that we can allow ourselves to be better people, for those we love.

Character Description: In this monologue, Warren, an older, wiser man, expresses his unwelcomed point of view in regards to his observation of studying a father, talking to his boy about “dreams”. 

Warren is a man who has lived a full yet regrettable life.  He is a man that wishes he can go back in time in order to “do what he wishes he knew now”.  He wears an old beat up, whit, fedora hat and smokes a cubana cigar.  He wears round black lensed sunglasses, a white satin suit and a lose silky blue poca dotted tie. 

Even though his attire is expensive, his appearance looks exhausted.  A tired man in every sense of the word.  His soft voice speaks volumes to the listener upon hearing its tone and subtlety.  He is a gentle man who does not find the need to prove his authority on people.  He wears a gold watch and a gold ring on his pinky finger.  His face contains that of a feeble smile.

WARREN:

So what’s the war on warren?  (chuckles)  Yeah, yeah, yeah…the war on warren. 

(beat)

(puffs from his cigar)

I ain’t nothin’ but a pair of lost aces.  Yeah, yeah.  Empty pockets, empty dreams.  Yeah, yeah.  You ask me who I am, what do I do cause I overheard you talking to your son about the business of show business.  There isn’t enough life to tell my life, that’s how much there is my friend.

Heard you talkin’ about, what, about pumpin’ those cents into dollars for your boy.  I get it, I get your vibe daddy but you’re better off selling it to someone you don’t care about.  Now, I’m not trying to rain on your talk with your boy, hell, he don’t even know nor will he remember if he knew, what it is I’m sayin’. 

BUT YOU KNOW

All we could ever do is do what we can for our kids.  Show them what we feel is the right way, keep them in the light, out of harms way.  Guide them into making the right choices in life, even when we stand by and watch them make the wrong ones, we will always be there to pick them up from whatever turmoil they expose themselves too.  All we can do is try…I hear the passion in your voice for your child.  You are a man who has not accomplished his dreams and now looks to your little boy to fulfill your promise.

What about his promise? 

Is it fair to do what you are doing to this, seven, eight year old?  (quickly) Now hold on a sec before you get all hasty and pasty on me, I’m still your senior.  You don’t have to listen neither, you can get up and move along if you wish.  That’s okay.

(beat)

Let him follow his own dreams and let him make his own discoveries before you make him YOU.  Let him be HIM.  Listen, you have carried him this far, am I right?  Let him begin to carry himself now.  You will be there to catch him but allow for him to go HIS way and look on proudly.

I hear you talkin’ friend.  And it’s understandable.  I don’t blame you one bit.  But you will one day blame yourself.  One day you’ll be me.  I’m just a lonely stranger with a message.  Take me as you will but know what I speak.  K-N-O-W.

Support his endeavors and don’t make HIS life, yours.  You’ve had your shot, let him have his…

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