“Pet Project” (comedy) 2-3 Minutes

June 8, 2009 by The Monologue Blogger

Filed under 2 Minute Monologues, 3 Minute Monologues, MB Library, Male Monologues - Comedy

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Photo Courtesy ZACK KLEIN

Monologue Description: ”Pet Project” is a comedy from an unhappy dog’s perspective.

Character Description: In this monologue, Bogart talks to his friend Sammy (the fish in the tank) about how rough it is being a dog in the household, especially with an annoying pet owner.

BOGART:

(to himself)

I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I have to deal with this moron for an owner.

(imitating his owner)

“Oh, look at the cute little doggy. Look at the cute doggy wag his fluffy tail.”

(to Sammy)

You know what? That’s me giving him the finger; to that schmucko. Everything is a big fuss. Like the time we had a Holiday photo shoot. That was a blast, especially when he dressed me up as a reindeer. I thought I was going to drop dead from heat exhaustion.

I am a dog! Whippdiddy doo! What’s all the fuss about? Okay? I have feelings! I have thoughts! I get horny like the rest of you! I get hungry! I get tired! I crap, I piss, I fart, I laugh!

You got it easy, Sam. You stay underwater in your tank all day and night and you don’t have to deal with anyone’s B.S.

I’m surrounded by complete idiots. My five year old niece is smarter than THAT dooshbag. I mean really, what an excuse to be a human. What a lump. I can’t believe I have this guy as my owner. I’m cursed.

Like I have nothing better to do than watch him baby me and pet me frequently with his filthy fingers. Just once I’d like this guy to wash his hands before he touches me. He’s such an animal. He’ll spend fifteen minutes on the bowl letting it drop and I have to listen to him make all sorts of noises that I, I–Awww, I can’t even fathom those moments, I get nausea. Not once have I ever heard this guy use the sink to wash his hands. When he comes out of the bathroom, all hot and sweaty, you know what he does? He comes trotting over to me with this dumb ass grin and wipes his stench all over my body. Like he’s doing me a favor. Please, I might as well roll around in my own dung for that matter.

The best is when he actually notices that I’m miserable and decides to run to the cupboard to fetch me a treat. And I love the treats, especially the banana oatmeal cookies. Damn those are good but who the hell wants to eat them when his disgusting hands held them? So I don’t eat them and do you know what he does? He stops buying them! God, I am really cursed the more I think about it.

I mean, this all can’t be real. When will I wake up from this nightmare I’m having? I howl sometimes begging to wake myself up but the truth of the matter is, THIS is my wonderful reality. Sometimes I imagine I’m special, like I’m some kind of pet project–some kind of secret scientist agent who agreed to be a dog temporarily. Well, I’m ready to go back because this really blows.

You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to launch a company…a HOTLINE. 1-800-Lose Your Owner. That’s it. I am going to start a business that all dogs of the world, heck, EVEN CATS, can call and get consultation on how to get rid of their owner. I mean come on, what is this,SLAVERY?! Am I a slave?

I overheard the conversation he was having the other day. He wants to take me to some training camp, so I can fetch his stupid paper or flush his stupid toilet. Are you kidding me? He’s going to spend THOUSANDS of bucks on that nonsense when he could invest it in building me a doggy home, so I can be left alone and keep my sanity from this Godforsaken family of lunatics!!!

(growls)

(barks)

I’m calm.

(sighs)

Does it look like I’m happy here, Sam? I am a genius trapped in a dog’s body. No wonder every year I age seven human years! What a joke, man? Like I need this crap. I don’t know what I did in my previous life but this is definitely payback.

(beat)

Awww hell, I’m tired. I’ve had enough. I’m getting a headache. I’m just going to rollover and sleep as much of my life away as I can because there is nothing better to do.

We’ll chat later, Sammy Boy. Thanks for listening.

(he rolls over and slowly begins to fall asleep)