Monologues
90 Seconds of Want
By Ross Schexnayder
Since I have your attention for the next 90 seconds I wanted to say that I just realized no matter what I do up here to show who I am, it isn’t about me. It’s about you. You, sitting out there, writing and staring, staring and writing, nothing here matters unless it’s what YOU want. How can you expect me to appeal to everyone in the amount of time it takes to heat up a can of Chef Boyardee? Some of you want me to give you Shakespeare, abridged but obscure, something you’ve never heard before, like that’s going to happen, “Oh for a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention, a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to behold the swelling scene.” Some want me to pull in and make you see my soul with the slightest turn of my head and a glisten in my eye (Demonstrates). You may be thinking, can she belt? (sing) YES I CAN! How about a time step? (does time step) Accents anyone? (proper British) “Would you like your tea and crumpets in the library Miss Cardew,” or (thick Cockney)“Good Day there Govn’r, could you spare a little kindness for the poor,” or (deep Southern) “Big Daddy always says that being relations don’t mean you can’t have relations.” What human being could possibly show all of that in the time allowed? So while you are staring and writing staring and writing answer me this…do you want an audition or a bowl of ravioli? Because I guess I could act that too.
See What Happened Was…
By Ross Schexnayder
It isn’t my fault. I can explain why my shoe is missing, why there is a hole in the window, and the nose is missing off your garden gnome. You see my bed is way to close to the window, and well, when you turn off the light, the window becomes a portal to an alternate universe. Not just any universe…(looks both ways) an evil universe. Shhhhh, you can’t let it hear, it might open up and be…evil. And that’s how my shoe disappeared, see, an “evil” monster
By Ross Schexnayder
Since I have your attention for the next 90 seconds I wanted to say that I just realized no matter what I do up here to show who I am, it isn’t about me. It’s about you. You, sitting out there, writing and staring, staring and writing, nothing here matters unless it’s what YOU want. How can you expect me to appeal to everyone in the amount of time it takes to heat up a can of Chef Boyardee? Some of you want me to give you Shakespeare, abridged but obscure, something you’ve never heard before, like that’s going to happen, “Oh for a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention, a kingdom for a stage, princes to act and monarchs to behold the swelling scene.” Some want me to pull in and make you see my soul with the slightest turn of my head and a glisten in my eye (Demonstrates). You may be thinking, can she belt? (sing) YES I CAN! How about a time step? (does time step) Accents anyone? (proper British) “Would you like your tea and crumpets in the library Miss Cardew,” or (thick Cockney)“Good Day there Govn’r, could you spare a little kindness for the poor,” or (deep Southern) “Big Daddy always says that being relations don’t mean you can’t have relations.” What human being could possibly show all of that in the time allowed? So while you are staring and writing staring and writing answer me this…do you want an audition or a bowl of ravioli? Because I guess I could act that too.
See What Happened Was…
By Ross Schexnayder
It isn’t my fault. I can explain why my shoe is missing, why there is a hole in the window, and the nose is missing off your garden gnome. You see my bed is way to close to the window, and well, when you turn off the light, the window becomes a portal to an alternate universe. Not just any universe…(looks both ways) an evil universe. Shhhhh, you can’t let it hear, it might open up and be…evil. And that’s how my shoe disappeared, see, an “evil” monster