'Willetta's Ostrich' or 'Thirty seconds left' adapted from James Finn Garner's book 'Politically Correct Bedtime Stories' by Miles Staveley and Edward Avis. Cast: Mr Limpet (ML) Miss Polony (MP) Children: Shaun, Tyrannie, Porid, Kevin, Darren, Child 1, Child 2 (Child 1 and Child 2 do not have to be the same in different scenes.) Red Riding Hood (RRH) Wolf (W) Grandma Log-fuel technician (LFT) Pencil-sharpening man Three Little Pigs Real-estate agent (REA) Disclaimer boy (DB) Shaun's mum and dad Jack Jack's mum Old Magic Vegetarian (OMV) Jingle Giant Chicken Licken (CL) Henny Penny (HP) Goosey Loosey (GL) Foxy Loxy (FL) Lawyer Scene 1. Required: children (including Kevin, Darren, Shaun, Tyrannie, Porid, Child 1, Child 2), ML, MP. (In the top left corner is the carpet, facing the carpet and the audience is a chair. A desk and domestic area is top right. Several children are scattered around the stage. Mr Limpet, their new teacher, is sitting in the chair, looking at a book.) ML: Right children, come and sit on the carpet. (All the children walk over and sit down, apart from three: Child 2 runs round the table three times and pushes a girl who is trying to go and sit down. Then he cackles loudly and crawls under the table. The teacher pointedly ignores him. Meanwhile, Darren and Kevin are standing up at the back of the carpet, and as if taking a free kick at football, kicking the two children in front of them. The teacher looks lost and stands up, gesturing at the two. At this point another teacher comes in through the door - a middle-aged, dowdy, fairly bloated woman, dressed in beige.) MP: (squeals) Kevin Johnson and Darren Fletcher, sit down! I DON'T think that the children in front of you appreciate your silliness - do you, Mr Limpet? ML: Er - no - (puts on similarly outraged voice) - NO, Mrs Polony! (Glares at two miscreants who are grinning widely.) We don't want to have to say to the mummies and daddies when they come to collect their children that we're very sorry, they'll have to collect them in wheelbarrows because some silly little boys weren't sitting on the carpet, do we? MP: . No, Mr Limpet. If you two don't stop now, you'll be losing some of your Trashing Time! (The children sit down and talk quietly amongst themselves.) ML: (to MP) Trashing Time? MP: Oh, of course, you haven't been here on a Friday yet. (ironically) It's an unforgettable experience, I tell you. ML: But what is it? MP: Well, what happened was this: Every couple of years the educational theorist comes round and visits our school to help us find ways of controlling the children. We tried Biscuit Therapy, Class Pairing and Behaviour Isolation, but none of them worked at all. Then, as a last resort, the theorist suggested Trashing Time. Every Friday afternoon, we let the whole of Year 3 loose into the school hall and encourage them to smash up pretend easily-breakable furniture which we buy in - and they set about smashing the place up with great glee. (ironically) The idea is that it provides a safe outlet for their natural vandalistic desires - and of course it would be totally wrong not to. ML: (not ironically) Oh yes, of course. But - isn't it a bit expensive, having all this stuff smashed up? MP: Well, apart from last year when the piano was left in the hall by mistake, no. We feel it's worth the money. If children are naughty, they have to miss five minutes of Trashing Time while they watch the others having fun. This is an incredibly powerful deterrent. ML: (gleefully wags his finger at the children) - So remember, one step out of line and you'll be missing ten minutes of Trashing Time! MP: I'll come in and check you're OK later. (walks out) ML: Right then children, how many of you have read fairy stories? (About half the children put their hands up, pointing the index finger and straining towards the ceiling.) Shaun: I don't read, Miss! ML: Don't call me Miss. Shaun: But I don't read, Miss, I don't! ML: All right then, how many of you get read to at bedtime? Shaun: My parents don't read, Miss! ML: Don't call me Miss! Shaun: (distressed) But they don't, Miss! Porid: I don't GO to bed, Miss! Tyrannie: Me as well, Miss! ML: DON'T CALL ME MISS! (deep breath). Well anyway, whatever stories you HAVE heard are all wrong. It's called stereotype inculcation, but don't worry about what that means. Child 1: What's stereo time in crag grating? ML: Stereotype inculcation - well, what it basically means is, the lies that your mummies and daddies were told by their mummies and daddies, they tell to you. Shaun: Does that mean my Nan's a liar, Miss? ML: (distractedly) Don't call me Miss! What I mean is, that things which aren't actually true get passed on from parents to children, and then to the children's children - Tyrannie: I don't have any children, Miss! ML: That's not the point, Tyrannie. (wearily) And don't call me Miss. So what happens is that everyone accepts certain ideas, even though they aren't correct. Porid: Is that like the story about the stork, Miss? ML: Err... (hastily) Don't call me Miss! Porid: (stands up and addresses the class) I know all about that - I saw it on TV. What happens is that the mummy and the daddy start kissing and cuddling and then - ML: Porid, SIT DOWN! Porid: (ignoring the teacher and grinning) Look, I can show you what happens - ML: Porid, you will lose FIFTY MINUTES of Trashing Time if you say another word. (The smile is wiped off Porid's face and he sits down sheepishly.) Scene 1 continues, required: Children (including Porid, Tyrannie, Child 1, Child 2), ML, RRH, W, Grandma, LFT. ML: I'm going to tell you a story which you all know - but I will tell it to you without the lies your parents told you. (Brings out a wad of handwritten sheets and starts reading.) Once upon a time, there was a young person named Red Riding Hood - Child 1: Innit LITTLE Red Riding Hood, Miss? ML: (angrily) Any more sizeist remarks like that one, young man, and you'll be going and standing in the corner! (breath) Red Riding Hood lived with her mother on the edge of a large wood. She never ventured into the wood because her mother had told her it was very, very dangerous. (children stare open-mouthed) ML: One day, her mother asked Red Riding Hood to take a basket full of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother, who lived in a cottage on the other side of the wood. Of course, if any of you think that this is because her grandmother was old and frail, you are totally wrong. Her grandmother was a mature and Active Adult, fully capable of running her own life in a fulfilling way. However Red Riding Hood felt that taking healthful foodstuffs to her grandmother would help to span the generations. (By this time Red Riding Hood is walking on stage.) RRH: (aside) I am setting off to visit my grandmother, who of course is fully capable of leading a fulfilled lifestyle despite her chronologically accomplished status. (skips along) ML: Off went Red Riding Hood, carrying her wicker basket (which had naturally been crafted from sustainable materials) and fearlessly set off through the wood. RRH: I think I'll go through the wood. Why should I take heed of the obvious Freudian fear of the educationally challenged villagers? Deep, dank, dark, damp and dangerous woods hold no fear for me! (enter wolf) W: What are you carrying in your basket, little girl? RRH: Nutritious comestibles for my grandmother, even though she is a perfectly capable, though perhaps unelightened, relative. But of course she cannot be blamed for this, because she is the product of a less enlightened age. W: You know, it's not safe for little girls to be walking alone in these woods, my dear. RRH: I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid, worldview. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. ML: Red Riding Hood walked on along the main path. (RRH exits) But, because his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the wolf knew a quicker route to Grandma's house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma - an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. (While he is saying this, the table is transformed into Grandma's bed, complete with Grandma and large frilly duvet. The wolf walks around the stage and mimes opening Grandma's front door. He walks up to Grandma, who screams and flings up the duvet. Under the cover of the duvet, the wolf 'eats' her, puts on her nightcap and gets into bed. Grandma is hidden underneath the bed by the long duvet. OR While he is saying this, the wolf walks off stage, we hear a muted scream, and the wolf walks back wearing Grandma's nightcap, and gets into bed.) ML: Then, unhampered by rigid traditionalist notions of what was masculine or feminine, he put on Grandma's clothes and climbed into her bed. (RRH begins to walk onto the stage) Porid: I saw that on TV as well, except it wasn't a wolf, it was a - ML: Porid Brown, I will not tolerate this level of interruption! RRH: (staring angrily, hands on hips, tapping her foot, at both Porid and Mr Limpet the teacher) (to Mr Limpet) Have you two quite finished? ML: (sheepishly) Yes, go on. RRH: , look at those roses! Still imposing her artificial will on the forces of nature, I see! She OBVIOUSLY didn't listen to a word I said last time I visited! (enters cottage) RRH: Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role as a wise and nurturing matriarch. W: (falsetto) Come closer, child, so that I might see you. RRH: Oh, I forgot, you are as optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have! W: They have seen much, and forgiven much, my child. Tyrannie: Miss! Miss! That's not right! ML: DON'T call me Miss! RRH: (indignantly to Mr Limpet) How dare you reinforce traditional gender stereotypes! It is a perfectly valid choice for young Tyrannie to call you Miss. Clearly she is wise beyond her years. Tyrannie: Yer wot? ML: Sorry, Red Riding Hood. W: (reverts to normal wolf voice) (worried) So did I say it wrong then? Tyrannie: Yeah - you're meant to say 'All the better to see you with.'. W: Oops. (aside) I hope I didn't give the game away. (back to falsetto) All the better to see you with, my dear. RRH: Grandma, what a big nose you have - only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own right. W: All the better to smell you with! (Thumbs up to Tyrannie.) RRH: Grandma, what big ears you have! W: All the better to hear you with! RRH: Grandma, what big teeth you have! W: (jumps out of bed) I am happy with WHO I am and WHAT I am! ML: The wolf grabbed Red Riding Hood, intent on eating her. Red Riding Wood screamed (she screams), not out of alarm at the wolf's tendency towards cross- dressing, but because of his wilful invasion of her personal space. Her screams were heard by a passing log-fuel technician - Child 2: What's a logful magician, Miss? ML: DON'T CALL - (stops himself as RRH's hands go to her hips) - err... a log-fuel technician is what some would call a woodcutter-person. (Enter LFT. He looks around and sees the wolf and RRH, still grappling.) LFT: (raising his axe) Don't worry, love, I'll save yer! (The wolf and RRH both suddenly stop.) RRH: (customary hands on hips) And just WHAT do you think you're doing? (LFT is stupefied.) RRH: Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you! Sexist! Superficial! How DARE you assume that women and wolves can't solve their own problems without a man's help? ML: When she heard Red Riding Hood's impassioned speech, Grandma burst out of the wolf's mouth, seized the woodcutter-person's axe, and cut his head off. (simultaneously) (Grandma bursts out from behind bed, grabs axe from LFT, and swings it at him, knocking him down.) ML: After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma and the wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. RRH: I know, let's set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation. ML: And they all lived happily ever after. Right children, go and get your coats! (All the children scurry off.) Scene 2. Required: MP, ML, Pencil Man. (Next day. In the Common Room. Mrs Polony is milling around the room drinking coffee. One is sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a table, sharpening pencils one after the other in a machine. Enter Mr Limpet, looking pensive.) MP: Good morning, Mr Limpet. ML: (distractedly) Good morning. MP: I'm sorry I couldn't drop in on you again to check how you were getting on yesterday - only Declan brought in his pet ferret again. He's done this before, but last time it only managed to half chew through his drawer. This time it got out and started weeing on the Lego bricks. ML: Oh, yes, of course. (The man in the corner sharpening pencils bangs the machine a few times and mutters something.) MP: You're looking worried today! Cheer up, the annual outing to the old people's home isn't for two weeks yet. Plenty of time to get the leashes ready. ML: No, it's not that. It's just that I'm not sure I'm getting my message across. MP: Oh, we've all had that problem, dearie. For several weeks I tried to tell Mervin to hang his coat on the pegs, but he still drops it on Melanie's head at nine o'clock every morning. ML: That's not what I meant. I'm trying - I'm trying to instil the children with - MP: I shouldn't try to instil them with anything at all! The dinner ladies tried for fifty years to get children to eat cabbage, but eventually parents complained that it was sticking to the insides of their children's pockets, so we gave up. ML: No! I mean to correct the centuries of intellectual neglect which have built up a fortress of false preconceptions and bigotry. MP: You haven't been talking to that smutty little Porid Brown, have you? (The man sharpening pencils lumbers slowly across the stage and comes back with a new box of pencils.) ML: I spent several hours rewriting stories to help purge our society of outmoded belief systems, and they spend the whole time telling me that I've got the stories wrong. MP: Of course you haven't. You're the teacher and they are the pupils. You're the one who decides how the story should go. ML: (suddenly becomes angry) That's exactly the type of role typecasting I'm trying to avoid! MP: (ignoring him and looking at the clock) Oh look, it's time for lessons. I've got to go and make fun of that spotty student teacher. (exit MP and ML) (The pencil man slowly gathers up his pencils and walks off across the stage.) Scene 3. Required: ML, Children (Tyrannie, Shaun, Child 1, Child 2) (Back in the classroom. Time: 14:45 again. Children and teacher in storytelling positions.) ML: Right children, I think most of you - MOST OF YOU, TERRENCE FLOSS - have worked well today. And look at this picture that Willetta drew of an ostrich. I'm really pleased with that, Willetta. And now, we'll have a story. Child 1: Is it going to be a silly story like yesterday, Miss? ML: (ignores) Today, I've written a special version of The Three Little Pigs. Tyrannie: I know that one! Shaun: Yeah, that's the pub down my road, Miss. ML: (louder) Once upon a time there were three little pigs who lived together in mutual respect and harmony - Child 2: Where's that, Miss? Scene 3 continues. Required: ML, three Pigs, W, Children (Porid), REA, DB. ML: (in a louder voice) in harmony with their environment. Using materials that were indigenous to the area, they each built a beautiful house. (enter 3 Little Pigs) One house was built from straw, Pig 1: I'm building my house from straw! ML: one from sticks, Pig 2: I'm building my house from sticks! ML: and one from bricks. Pig 3: I'm building my house from dung, clay and creeper vines shaped into bricks and baked in a small kiln! ML: When they were finished, the pigs were satisfied with their work and settled back to live in peace and self-determination. Pig 1: Where's that, Miss? ML: (sigh) However, their idyll was soon shattered. One day, along came a big, bad wolf with expansionist ideas. (enter Wolf) W: Aha! Three pristine porkful little piggies! There is clearly much scope for development here. In the right hands, this land could turn a neat little profit! ML: The sight of the pigs made the wolf very hungry, in both a physical and an ideological sense. Porid: Does that mean something rude, Miss? (Teacher despairs.) (Wolf struts up to the pigs, who run into the house of straw, squealing. Wolf walks up to the house.) W: Little pigs, little pigs, let me in! Pigs: Your gunboat tactics hold no fear for pigs defending their homes and culture. Pig 1: By our chinny-chin-chin! W: You reject our generous offer? Your insolence must be punished. I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down! (Wolf huffs and puffs and blows their house down. The pigs squeal and run around the stage.) Pig 2: Let's go and take refuge in the house I built of sticks! (The pigs run into the house made of sticks. Enter real-estate agent.) REA: So, Mr Wolf, where's this new bit of land you mentioned? W: It's over there, where lies the wreckage of the house of straw. REA: I'll get my people to talk to your people. Should be good for a banana plantation. (Wolf goes to house of straw.) W: Little pigs, little pigs, let me in! Pigs: Go to hell, you carnivorous, imperialistic oppressor! W: (to audience) (chuckling condescendingly) They are so childlike in their ways. It will be a shame to see them go, but everything must go in the name of progress. W: I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down! (This he does.) (Pigs run around again.) Pig 3: Quick, get into my house of bricks! (Pigs run into house of bricks. Enter real-estate agent.) REA: Right, so this is where you wanted the holiday resort, yeah? W: Yes... that's right... I was thinking timeshare complex... REA: We need fibreglass reconstructions of this quaint little house of sticks - over here the native curio shops, there the snorkelling and dolphin shows. W: As before, get your people onto my people. Porid: Does that mean something rude, Miss? W: (angrily) It's not only little piggies which get eaten, you know. (Glares at Porid and Mr Limpet, then walks over to house of bricks.) W: (bangs on door) Little pigs, little pigs, let me in! ML: This time, the pigs sang songs of solidarity and wrote letters of protest to the United Nations. (Pigs sing some kind of song.) W: Very well then, I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down! You will pay for your foolish pride! Pig 3: Nonsense! Your high-calorie, high-sodium, high-cholesterol diet will be your undoing. Any more huffing and puffing, and you'll die of a heart attack! W: Just watch me. (Huffs, puffs, wheezes and dies.) ML: The three little pigs rejoiced that justice had triumphed and did a little dance around the corpse of the wolf. (this they do) Their next step was to liberate their homeland. They formed a band of 'porcinistas' (pigs don headbands and wield odd- looking knives in various poses) and slaughtered the cruel wolf oppressors. Pig 3: We will rescue our oppressed brethren. Pig 2: Let us revive our ancient culture and free it from the yoke of imperialism. Pig 1: Let's go and watch the dolphin shows! Pigs 2 and 3: (chant) The incarceration of animals to satisfy the whims of ignorant spectators is unacceptable in a modern society. Pig 3: There will be no room for this in our new model socialist democracy. Pig 2: With free education, universal healthcare and affordable housing for everyone. (Disclaimer boy arrives with sign saying PLEASE NOTE.) DB: The wolf in this story was purely a metaphorical construct. No actual wolves were harmed in the telling of this story. Scene 4. Required: Shaun, Shaun's mum, Shaun's dad. (Chez Shaun. A TV is blaring away in the corner of the sitting room. Shaun's dad, a big, burly, string-vested bloke, is slumped in a chair half watching it. His bottle-blonde wife enters, holding Shaun's hand. The time: just after school.) Mum: So Shaun, are you going to explain to your dad what you told me? Dad: Bugger off, can't you see I'm busy? Mum: But Gareth, don't you want to hear what happened at school? Dad: Of course I don't want to hear what bloody happened at school. Do you think I haven't heard it all a hundred times before? Shaun goes to that sodding place, he does some stupid bit of art or something, and then he comes home and disturbs the football. (mimicking Shaun) Dad, Dad, have you seen this picture of a sodding elephant that I made out of eggshells at school? Shaun: Anyway, I don't want to tell Dad. He always shouts at me whenever I say what I did at school! (upset) And anyway, it wasn't an elephant, it was the Darren Lara! Mum: No, Shaun, it's really called the Darren LAMA. Come on, tell your dad what happened. Shaun: I don't want to. Dad: (suddenly looks round) What doesn't he want to tell me? (Mum starts dusting / glancing at TV.) Shaun: Nothing, Dad. Dad: You tell me, you smarmy little git, or I won't let you watch Reservoir Dogs on the telly tonight. Shaun: Aww, Dad! Mum: Tell 'im what happened. Shaun: All that happened was that we had to dress up in weird costumes and sit in a circle. Dad: What's wrong with that? Stop wasting my time! Shaun: (sulky) Yeah, well I won't tell you the rest of it then. Dad: Huh. (turns back to TV) Come on lads! That's the spirit, Jamie! (Shaun sulks a moment, then continues:) Shaun: We were learning about Native Americans. Teacher made us empathize. Mum: You didn't tell me this on the way home! Shaun: Maybe I didn't want to. Mum: (to Dad) I don't think it's healthy, making little kids emphasize all over the place. Dad: What do you want now? Mum: Shaun was just saying he had to enterprise in school today. Dad: He did WHAT? Shaun: I never! Mum: Your teacher, Shaun, is a very bad man. Making little children sit in circles and improvise! Shaun: Yeah, well he said YOU were a liar! Mum: (shrill) WHAT? Shaun: An' Dad as well! Dad: (booming) WHAT? Shaun: And my Nan as well! Dad: I knew that already. Mum: (angry) Just because she wouldn't let you piss in the sink last time we went to stay - Dad: That was Shaun, you stupid woman. Shaun: I never! Mum: Yeah, well you can see where he gets it from. Dad: I'M not the one who told him to piss all over the back seat of my new Cortina! Mum: He was MEANT to piss out of the window! Shaun: I never! Dad: Anyway, who says I'm a liar? Shaun: Teacher did. He said that you and your parents made up lies that their parents told to them, and then they told 'em to me, and I'm going to tell them to my children. Mum: Well that proves it then. You don't have any kids! Shaun: That's not the point, Mum. Mum: Bloody cheek! I don't know WHAT they're teaching them these days! Dad: More than they ever taught you! You said Bruce Forsyth was the presenter on Stars In Their Eyes! Mum: I never! Shaun: And also, Teacher said that you and Dad were very bad people, but it's not your fault, 'cos you come from a less delighted age. Mum: I'm only 26, and I AM a real blonde! Dad: Yeah, and I'm the Darren Lama! Shaun: No you're not, he's got eggshells on him! Dad: (shouts) GO AND DO YOUR HOMEWORK. Shaun: Well, I'll go and grow my inner child then. (exit) Scene 5. Required: Children (Darren, Tyrannie, Porid, Child 1, Child 2), ML. (In the classroom. Children on the floor fiddling with Lego. ML stands up.) ML: Right children, tidy away. Darren, spit out those bits of Lego NOW! Tyrannie, I DON'T think Geoffrey wants those stuffed in his ears. (The children tidy away as instructed.) ML: Right, the rest of you, come and sit on the carpet. (this they do) ML: Today, we're going to have another story. This time, I've made a version of Jack And The Beanstalk. Child 1: Is that the one where they had loads of killer bees flying round America stinging people to death? Child 2: No, that was 'The Swarm'. ML: Do any of the children here know who Jack is? Tyrannie: Didn't he build a house? Child 1: Isn't he the one who wasn't all right? Porid: No, Jack's the one who went up the hill and did rude things with Jill. THEN he was all right, hehehe. Child 2: He's the one with the penguins and the beer. (tries to put on Jack Dee voice) Pure milk in a glass. ML: Silence. Let's save this for sharing time. One day, there was a young boy called Jack. He lived on a farm with his mother. They were very excluded from the normal circles of economic activity. This cruel reality kept them in straits of direness, until one day Jack's mother told him to take the family cow into town and sell it for as much as he could. Never mind the thousands of gallons of milk they had stolen from her; never mind the hours of pleasure their bovine animal companion had provided - Porid: My Dad says that's against the laws of God and Man. ML: NO! Anyway, she was now just another piece of property to them. Jack, who didn't realize that nonhuman animals have as many rights as human animals, perhaps even more, did as his mother asked. On his way to town, Jack met an old magic vegetarian. Scene 5 continues. Required: ML, OMV, Jack, Children (Porid, Child 1), Jack's Mum. (Enter Jack and OMV, at opposite ends of the stage.) OMV: And just WHAT do you think you're doing with that cow? Jack: My name's Jack, and I'm taking Daisy into town to sell her. OMV: Not only do you impose your anthropomorphic names on this poor nonhuman animal, you also endanger your own health and that of others. Jack: I'm sorry? OMV: I'm not sure you appreciate the danger you are putting yourself in. Meat-eating has been proven to lead to the death of thousands of innocent animals every day - and many less innocent animals also die, of the ensuing cardiovascular diseases. Jack: I didn't want them to kill our Daisy! OMV: How else did you think they got beef? Jack: I thought it came from the butcher's shop! OMV: I see you are too simple to be able to appreciate how you are perpetuating the cultural mythos of beef. Jack: Yes, I suppose I am. OMV: Tell you what, I'll do you a deal. I'll swap your cow for these three magic soya beans - which have as much protein as that entire cow, but none of the fat or sodium. (Jack hands over the cow.) ML: Jack gladly swapped the old cow for the magic beans and rushed home to tell his mother the good news. (OMV and Jack exeunt.) Child 1: What's the vegetarian going to do with the cow then? Porid: Hehehe. (OMV rushes back.) OMV: How DARE you doubt my integrity as a vegetarian! I treat all animals as equals and I will be selling Daisy off to perform tricks in the circus. Child 1: That's not treating her equally! OMV: Of course it is, I sold my wife to do the same. (exit) ML: Jack arrived home and excitedly told his mother of the swap. (Mother in house, enter Jack.) Jack: Hi Mum - I got a really good deal on Daisy! Mum: How much did you get? Five pounds? Six pounds? Jack: Better than that. Mum: Six pounds fifty? Jack: I got these three soil beans. There's more protein in them but no fat or sodium. Mum: (suspiciously) What's protein? Jack: I dunno. It's probably magic. ML: Jack's mum had used to think that her son was merely a conceptual rather than a linear thinker, but now she was sure that he was downright differently abled. Mum: You half-witted cabbage! You're worse than your father! (Grabs beans and expels through window.) (Jack curls up in corner.) ML: Jack's mum had always been disappointed at her son's disadherence to conventional behaviour-patterns, but this was the last straw. Mum: Maybe Ruth was right - I should enrol in that 'Mothers Of Storybook Children' support group. (exit Mum) Scene 5 continues. Required: ML, Jack, Children (Shaun, Tyrannie, Child 1, Child 2), Shaun's dad, Jingle, Giant. ML: The next morning, Jack looked out of his window to see if the sun had risen in the east again. Jack: I think I'm beginning to see a pattern here. Shaun: What was the pattern, Miss? Jack: Well, you see, every morning, I've noticed the sun rises. ML: That's nice. Outside the window - Shaun: Does it? Every morning? Jack: (pleased) Yes, it really does! And you know what? ML: (loud and clear) Outside the window, there was - Shaun: What? What? Jack: (conspiratorially) It always rises OVER THERE. ML: (louder still) Outside the window there was a - Jack: Oh yeah, look! A ginormous plant thingy! ML: (exasperated) He saw a giant BEANSTALK. Jack: (aside) Just when I was beginning to formulate a hypothesis, the object in question, namely the sun, goes and spoils it by turning into this whopping great plant thing! ML: (at Jack) The BEANSTALK reached up into the clouds. Jack, because he no longer had a cow to milk in the morning, climbed up it into the sky. (Jack begins climbing.) Jack: Oh look, this plant is sort of stalk-shaped! (climbs a little further) Look! It's got giant BEANS on it! ML: (sarcastically) Jack suddenly realized the plant was a BEAN STALK. Jack: (aside) I'm buggered if I can tell what it is, though. (Climbs to the top. Sound of harp playing begins.) ML: When he reached the top of the beanstalk, Jack suddenly caught sight of a castle built to a larger than average scale, as if it were the home of someone who just happened to be a giant. (Jack enters castle.) Jack: Cor, I bet the bloke who lives here is a bit on the lardy side. What's that noise? It's coming from over there! (follows the music) (aside) It appears to be coming from this strange musical thing - like what they had on the Eurovision Song Contest! ML: Next to the self-actualized harp was a hen, sitting on a pile of golden eggs. Now the prospect of easy wealth and mindless entertainment appealed to Jack's bourgeois sensibilities - Jack: Hey - this hen could lay me eggs for my tea! And this here music thingy would be useful to grate cheese with! ML: He picked up both the harp and the hen and ran for the door. (This he does.) Then he heard thundering footsteps and a booming voice that said: (enter Shaun's dad, complete with string vest and TV remote) Dad: (waving remote at teacher) Are you my Shaun's teacher? Are you the one what said I was a liar? You... you... you - Jingle: (very loud) FEE, FIE, FOE, FUM! (Shaun's dad's words are drowned out by the booming prerecorded voice.) Dad: (continues) ... What've you been telling my Shaun? Shaun: Don't you remember, Dad, he said you were a liar! Dad: Shut your gob you little - Jingle: I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISH PERSON! Shaun: (tearfully) Sorry Dad - I was just trying to help! ML: I'm sorry - are you one of the parents? Dad: Of course I'm one of the sodding parents! What did you think I was - the Darren Lama? Child 1: But the Darren Lama's made of eggshells! ML: Don't you mean the Dalai Lama? Dad: Don't answer back, you stupid little man! Tyrannie: (points finger at Mr Limpet) Yeah. Dad: What the hell do you think you're doing, calling me a liar! I've never lied all my life! Child 2: AND he said Willetta's ostrich was better than Shaun's. Dad: Are you saying my Shaun's not the best in the class? Child 1: Of course he isn't. I am! (Dad stares at Child 1, not knowing what to say.) ML: Perhaps we could discuss this after school, when I've finished the story. Jack: (to Dad, thespian voice) Excuse me duckie, some of us here are trying to have a performance. Would you mind saving this for later? Dad: (equally thespian) Sorry, darling. Did I get my cue wrong? (exit) ML: Right children, back to the story. Jack was running away from the giant when he heard thundering footsteps and a booming voice that said: (Enter Giant. Runs to centre of stage, and strikes a menacing pose. Gestures and begins to mouth 'Fee, fie, foe, fum' - but no sound comes from the speakers. Tries again to no avail. Shades eyes and looks at lighting box, then looks round not knowing what to do.) Giant: (finally tries to do it by himself) Fee - Jingle: (drowns out Giant) FEE, FIE, FOE, FUM. I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISH PERSON. Giant: I'd like to learn about his culture, and views on life, And share my own perspectives in an open and generous way. ML: Unfortunately Jack was too crazed with greed to accept the Giant's offer of a cultural interchange. Jack: Hahahaha. I'm not stupid! You think I'll come back and let you eat me; well I'll tell you this - errr... errr... em... go away! Besides which, what's a giant doing with such fine things? You must have stolen them - so I have every right to take them. ML: His frantic justifications, though remarkable for someone with his overtaxed mental resources, revealed a terrible callousness towards the Giant's personal rights. Jack apparently was a complete sizeist, who thought that all giants were clumsy, knowledge-impaired and exploitable. Giant: Why are you taking what belongs to me? Jack: I am not taking them, my friend, I am merely placing them in my stewardship, so that they can be properly managed and brought to their fullest potential. (winks at audience) Pardon my bluntness, but you giants are too simple in the head, and can't manage your resources properly. I'm just looking after your interests - you'll thank me for this later. (holds his breath) Giant: Yes, I suppose you're right. We giants do use our resources foolishly. Why, we can't even discover a new beanstalk without getting so excited, and picking away at it so much that we pull the poor thing right out of the ground. (Jack runs across the stage, looks down, looks distraught, then resigned.) Jack: Now I'm trapped here in the clouds with you forever! Giant: Don't worry, my little friend, we are strict vegetarians up here, and there are always plenty of beans to eat. And besides, you won't be alone. Thirteen other men of your size have already climbed up beanstalks to visit us, and stayed. ML: So Jack resigned himself to his fate as a member of the giant's cloud commune. He didn't miss his mother or their farm very much, because up in the sky there was less work to do and more than enough to eat. And he learned never to judge people based on their size ever again. Jack: Remember kids - say NO to sizeism! ML: OK children, go and get your coats and go outside. (All the children start leaving. Enter Shaun's dad. When Shaun sees his dad he stays behind.) Scene 5 continues. Required: Shaun's dad, Shaun, ML. Dad: What sort of stupid advice was that? ML: I think it's a very valuable lesson for these young people. Dad: Well I'd like to see YOU going five rounds with Tyson. Shaun: Or Prince Naseem. ML: Shaun, violence is no solution. Dad: (grabs Mr Limpet by the shirt) It doesn't look that way to me! What were you saying about me being a liar? ML: I'm sure I didn't say THAT. Shaun: Yeah, you did. ML: I think you didn't understand what I meant. Dad: Of course I bloody understand - I heard it word for word! ML: Let me explain what I mean. What I said at the beginning of term was that many of the children in this class - Dad: My Shaun is NOT 'many of the children in this class'. (pats Shaun on the head) He is in a class of his own. ML: You can say that again. Dad: Yer wot? ML: Nothing. The point is, many people, even today, still have misrepresentative metal concepts of the world of which we are fortunate enough to coexist. Dad: Don't talk to me about mental concepts - I WATCH 'Play Your Cards Right'! Shaun: I don't. ML: It goes right over your head, I expect. I'm just trying to correct the false thinking which has built up over the centuries. Dad: Well you could start by telling Shaun how to spell his name. ML: All I said was - Dad: All you said was, I was a liar! ML: I really don't think there is much point continuing this discussion. Dad: Right, that's it. I'm going to sue you for filling my son's head with rubbish. Shaun: No, he makes me put it in the bin! Dad: That's NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. Shaun: But you said that's what Mum was for! Dad: Come on, Shaun. We're going home to find a lawyer. Shaun: Bye, Miss. Scene 6. Required: Children (Tyrannie, Porid, Child 1, Child 2). (In the playground. Tyrannie, Porid, Child 1 and Child 2 are standing in a circle centre stage - around them other children play.) Tyrannie: I don't like Teacher's stories. Child 1: Yeah, what is he on? Porid: Hmm... I'd say a mixture of regular morphine injections, surgical spirit like my Nan, and Batchelors Oxtail Soup. Child 1: Eugh! Oxtail soup's disgusting! Tyrannie: Yeah, well I made my Barbie bathe in it for her skin! Child 2: That's nothing - I filled my bedroom with it, and all the furniture floated down the street! Tyrannie: Wow! Child 1: No it didn't - don't be stupid. Tyrannie: Yeah, course it didn't. (pause) Child 2: Well, my Mum says, them stories Teacher tells us are lies anyway - and it's all because he doesn't have a wife to keep him happy. Porid: Yeah, he needs somebody else to cook for him. Tyrannie: My Dad says, if Miss doesn't teach us properly, he's going to move me to another school where there are nice teachers. Child 1: I think that the stories are quite good. Tyrannie: Good? Child 1: I liked the bit where the man got both his legs cut off with a CHAINSAW! Porid: A what? Child 1: No, that was the film I saw last night. Porid: Hey, it's Friday today! That means that 'Carnal Knowledge' is on telly tonight! Child 2: Yeah, but it's a repeat. Seen it already. (enter ML) ML: Right then, Woodpecker class, line up. Lunch break is over. (Children form into a line, each nudging his neighbour.) ML: Come into the classroom - Daley goes first. (Children file into the classroom.) Scene 6 continues. Required: ML, Children (Tyrannie, Child 1, Child 2) ML: Right class, come and sit on the carpet. (this they do) As you know, Friday afternoon is when Trashing Time happens. Tyrannie: (eagerly) Is it Trashing Time yet, Miss? ML: No, Tyrannie. But today we're having our story early, because we don't have much time this afternoon. Today's story is: Chicken Little. Child 1: I thought calling things 'little' was bad, Miss. ML: I was just coming to that. She was called 'Chicken Little' because that was her family name, and not a derogatory size-based nickname. Child 1: But it must have been a nickname to start with! ML: Oh for heaven's sake! All right then, Chicken Licken! Child 2: Yeah, I know that! Finger-Licken' good! Scene 6 continues. Required: ML, CL, HP, FL, Children (Tyrannie, Shaun, Porid, Child 1, Child 2), Lawyer, Shaun's dad, Jingle, MP. ML: (louder) One day, Chicken Licken was playing in the road, (enter Chicken Licken) ML: ...when a gust of wind blew through the trees. An acorn was blown loose and hit Chicken Licken squarely on the head. CL: Ow. (looks around) ML: Now, while Chicken Licken had a small brain in the physical sense, she did use it to the best of her abilities. So when she screamed: CL: Help! The sky is falling! The sky is falling! ML: ...her conclusion was not wrong, or stupid, or silly, only logically underenhanced. Chicken Licken ran down the road until she came to the house of her neighbour, Henny Penny who was tending her garden. (Enter Henny Penny with trowel and gardening gloves.) HP: I take great pride in not using any insecticides, herbicides or artificial fertilizers. I also permit the native non-edible varieties of wildflower, sometimes branded 'weeds', to mingle with my food crops. CL: Henny Penny! Henny Penny! The sky is falling! The sky is falling! HP: Chicken Licken, why are you carrying on so? CL: I was playing in the road when a huge chunk of the sky fell and landed on my head - see, here's the bump to prove it. HP: Well, there's only one thing to do. CL: What's that? HP: Sue the bastards! CL: Sue for what? HP: Personal injury, discrimination, intentional infliction of emotional distress, negligent infliction of emotional distress, tortious interference, the tort of outrage, you name it, we'll sue for it! CL: Good gracious, what will we get for all that? HP: We can get payment for pain and suffering, compensatory damages, punitive damages, disability and disfigurement, long-term care, mental anguish, impaired earning power, loss of esteem... CL: Person, oh person! Who are we going to sue? HP: Well, I don't think the sky per se is recognized as a suable entity by the state. CL: I think we should go and find a lawyer, and find who is suable. HP: That's a good idea! And while we're there, I can ask whom to sue for these ridiculous bony legs of mine - they have caused me nothing but anguish and embarrassment all my life, and I should be compensated for that. Scene 6 continues. Required: ML, Children (Tyrannie), CL, HP, GL, FL. ML: So they ran further down the road - Tyrannie: Is it Trashing Time yet, Miss? ML: You'll definitely be losing some of yours if I get any more interruptions like that. They ran further down the road, to the home of their neighbour, Goosey Loosey, who was busy teaching her canine animal companion to eat grass, so that she could avoid the guilty feelings that came with feeding the dog processed animal carcasses from a can. (enter Goosey Loosey) (CL and HP run around the stage) CL: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! HP: Sue the bastards! Sue the bastards! CL: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! HP: Sue the bastards! Sue the bastards! GL: Goodness me, why are you two carrying on so? CL: I was playing in the road, and a piece of sky fell on my head. HP: So we're going to find a lawyer to tell us who we can sue, both for her injuries and for my bony legs. GL: Oh good. Can I come and sue for my long, gangly neck? You know, nothing really flatters it, so I'm convinced there is a conspiracy within the fashion industry against long-necked waterfowl. (The three run round in a circle.) CL: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! HP: Sue the bastards! Sue the bastards! GL: Smash the conspiracy! Smash the conspiracy! (enter Foxy Loxy) ML: Further down the road they met Foxy Loxy, who was dressed in a blue suit and carried a briefcase. He held up a paw to halt the entourage. FL: And what are you three doing out on this lovely day? CL, HP, GL: (shout in unison) We're looking for someone to sue! Scene 6 continues. Required: CL, HP, GL, FL, Lawyer, Shaun's dad, Children (Tyrannie, Shaun, Child 1, Child 2), Jingle. FL: What are your grievances? Personal injury? Discrimination? Intentional infliction of emotional distress? Negligent infliction of emotional distress? Tortious interference? The tory of outrage? (enter Lawyer) Lawyer: Slander, negligence of duty, breach of contract, dissemination of false ideas, teaching with intent to cause - (enter Shaun's dad) Dad: Yeah, and filling my little Shaun's head with rubbish! Lawyer: We'll nail you for destroying these kiddies' illusions, for bringing politics into the realm of the classroom, for straying from the syllabus, breach of trust, you name it. Dad: If necessary, I'll do it myself. I have a hammer at home. GL: What about my long neck! HP: And my bony legs! CL: (goes into front corner of stage) (to audience) What's the point, when the sky will crush us all! (exit) ML: I think everyone here ought to calm down a little. FL: No, you don't understand, I'm not really a lawyer, I just want to EAT them. Dad: You're not eating my Shaun! ML: Yes, the dining hall is down the corridor, serving perfectly edible greaseburgers and brown apples every lunchtime. I suggest you make use of it. Child 2: Is it Trashing Time yet, Miss? ML: No, not yet. Nearly. Dad: If there's any trashing to be done round here, I'm doing it! Lawyer: I hardly think that will help your case, sir. Dad: Sod off, you! Oy! You in the red ears! You can be my lawyer instead! FL: But - I can't! How can I fit you into my oven? Dad: You've lost me there. FL: The point is, I'm not really a lawyer, I'm just pretending to be so I can eat Chicken Licken, Henny Penny and Goosey Loosey. (HP and GL flap across to the other side of the stage and exeunt.) Dad: So... does this mean that HE (points to Lawyer) wants to gobble up my little Shaun? Lawyer: Hehehehe. Dad: DO YOU? Lawyer: No, of course not. I earn enough money to get children shipped in from the Far East. Tyrannie: I reckon he does want to eat 'im. He looks hungry to me. Shaun: (sobs) Please don't eat me! Child 1: Miss, he's going to eat us all! (all the children start sobbing 'Miss! Miss!') Jingle: FEE FIE FOE FUM! ML: (to SFX people) Get a grip, will you! We didn't ask for your tuppence worth! Dad: I knew it! That's what the Giant said when he was going to eat Jack! ML: No, he didn't - the Giant was a vegetarian! Dad: I'm not listening to a word you say. I know you're a liar through and through. I KNOW that he wants to eat my Shaun. Lawyer: (to FL) How dare you come in here and steal my client by putting about false rumours. I've a good mind to sue you for - FL: Sue me for what you like, mate - it won't do any good. I'm a fox! Porid: Miss, is it Trashing Time yet? ML: (glances at his watch) Thirty seconds left. (enter Mrs Polong) MP: Oh my goodness! What's all this about? Who's he? Who's the dumpling in the string vest? And why has that man got ears on his head. Mr Limpet, I HOPE this is not one of your crackpot alternative education schemes! (CL flaps across the stage, squawking:) CL: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! (and exits.) MP: You do realize, we've got fifteen seconds to get the children out of here before Trashing Time begins. ML: What? Err? MP: GET THEM INTO THE HALL! ML: Err - yes - right. Class - line up by the - Dad: I'm not having you tell my Shaun to line up anywhere! Not till I get some answers! Lawyer: My client would like a word. (Children begin chanting 'ten', 'nine', etc. at one second intervals.) FL: Am I ever going to get any dinner round here? Flipping disorganization. Where's that fat hen gone? Children: Six. ML: Children, I said go and line up by the door! Children: Five. (Here a section is missing from the script. I think it was probably ML telling the children again to line up, followed by 'Four'.) MP: Children, there will be NO TRASHING TIME if you don't go and line up now. Tyrannie: You can't! It's too late! Children: Three! Child 1: Yeah, an' I'll get the Lawyer to sue you! Children: Two! ML: Children, for heaven's sake will you - Jingle: I SMELL THE BLOOD OF AN ENGLISH PERSON! Children: One! (Mrs Polony covers her eyes.) Children: ZERO! (Alarm bells ring. Children start running around and trashing things. 'The Birdie Song' begins to play.) (Enter Chicken Licken as curtain falls.) CL: (pointing at curtain) Look, the sky IS falling! It's falling! (She runs backwards and forwards) It's going to crush us all! (She dives back underneath as it reaches the ground.) AARGH! (Mr Limpet is left alone in front of curtain) ML: Right, this is it, I resign. (exits through audience)