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OLIVEOIL 6'2m1f Elisha's miracle gives a widow rent money

(melodrama overacting)

WIDOW --- (southern belle, enters, paces the floor) Oh, dear,
oh, dear, whatever shall I do? My husband has died and my rent
payment is due. If I don't pay the rent, my two children and I
shall be thrown out into the street by that dastardly villain,
Horace J. Snidely.

(knock, knock, knock)

(gasps) I fear that may be Mr Snidely at my the door now.
Whatever shall I do? (shouts) Come in.

(innocent) Mr Snidely, whatever could you be doing at my door?

SNIDELY - (greasy, enters) Hello, my lovely. I was shocked and
saddened by the death of your husband. But, business is
business, and your rent is due. Do you have the money?

WIDOW --- Why, no, Mr Snidely, I do not have the money. Please
give me more time. I shall try to get you the money.

SNIDELY - Sorry, sweet cheeks, business is business. Don't you
have anything to sell to raise the money?

WIDOW --- Why, no. All we have left is a little olive oil. But
there isn't nearly enough to sell and make the rent payment.

SNIDELY - Then, you're out on the street, sweet. (sneers)

WIDOW --- Oh, please, Mr Snidely, have mercy. Just give me a
little more time.

SNIDELY - Sorry, dimple chin, business is business. No money, no
house. You're out of here. (points to exit)

WIDOW --- Oh, please, Mr Snidely, if not for me, do it for my
two children. Look at their innocent little faces, Mr Snidely.
You wouldn't make such innocent little creatures homeless, would
you?

SNIDELY - Without batting an eye, honey lips. Pay up or get out.

WIDOW --- Oh, please, Mr Snidely, give me just until tomorrow to
come up with the money. If I don't have the money for you by
tomorrow, my children and I will move out without any more fuss.

SNIDELY - I tell you what, sweet thing. I'll give you until
tomorrow to come up with the money, but....

WIDOW --- But what, Mr Snidely? I'll do anything.

SNIDELY - But if you fail to come up with the money, I'll take
your children and sell them as slaves.

WIDOW --- Never! I shall never give up my children!

SNIDELY - Very well, then, out you go, children and all. Did I
tell you how cold it is outside?

WIDOW --- Very well, Mr Snidely. I suppose my children would be
better off as slaves of rich folks than to be homeless, without
a roof over their heads. Yes, I shall spend the next day saying
goodbye to my lovely children and then I shall see them no
more... (kneels, folds hands, looks to Heaven) Unless the Lord
my God rescues me.

SNIDELY - Bah, humbug, not even God can help you now. Good
night, sugar lips. Until tomorrow, then. (laughs, covers face
with cape, exiting) Yuh uh uh.

WIDOW --- Whether it is better for my children to be slaves or
not, I dread the thought of losing them. Boo hoo!

(knock, knock, knock)

(gasps, stands) Whoever could that be? Could it be that
dastardly Horace J. Snidely again, coming to renege on his
promise?

(gasps) Who are you?

ELISHA -- (Dudley Doright, too confident and too enthusiastic,
enters, poses) Good evening, Madame, my name is Elisha and I am
here to save the day for you. (stands proudly, hands on hips)

WIDOW --- Sorry, I don't need another vacuum cleaner.

ELISHA -- You don't understand, Madame, the Lord sent me.

WIDOW --- You're not one of those Jehovah's witnesses, are you?

ELISHA -- No, Madame, I'm a prophet.

WIDOW --- A profit. So, this is about multilevel
distributorships?

ELISHA -- Not that kind of profit, Madame. I am a prophet of god.

WIDOW --- Oh, so you're the answer to my prayers. Do you have my
rent money?

ELISHA -- No, Madame. I'm a prophet. I don't have any money.

WIDOW --- So, what are you selling? Encyclopedias?

ELISHA -- No, Madame, the Lord wants me to do a miracle.

WIDOW --- You know, I can't afford to have my carpets cleaned.
Not even at $9.95 per room.

ELISHA -- Madame, I'm afraid you've misconstrued my intensions.
I'm here to save you and your two adorable children from
eviction or slavery. (broad hand motion and pose)

WIDOW --- Oh.

ELISHA -- Here is what the Lord wants you to do. Go to your
neighbors and borrow all the jars you can. Then pour what little
olive oil you have into the jars.

WIDOW --- But my jar is only half full of oil. (points to exit)

ELISHA -- Go with me on this, Madame. Do you want your kids to be
slaves?

WIDOW --- Very well, I shall humbly do as you say. Thank you,
kind sir. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name.

ELISHA -- Elisha.

WIDOW --- So, you're the one with the chariot of fire.

ELISHA -- No, that was Elijah.

WIDOW --- Elijah, that's you.

ELISHA -- Elisha. (moving to exit, mumbles to self) That always
happens. I do the miracles and Elijah gets all the credit.
(exits)

(pause, knock, knock, knock)

WIDOW --- Oh, is it tomorrow already? That must be that
dastardly Mr Horace J Snidely at the door demanding his rent
money. Won't he be surprised?

SNIDELY - (enters) Good morning, hot lips. I hope you've kissed
your little rug rats goodbye, because they're going with me.

WIDOW --- I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr Snidely, but I have
your rent money for you. (reaches into apron pulls out money,
hands it to Snidely) Here.

SNIDELY - (examines money) That's impossible. Where did you get
all this money?

WIDOW --- It's a miracle from God, Mr Snidely. It happened just
as Elisha said it would. I poured olive oil from my own half
full jar. The oil just kept pouring and pouring. I sold enough
oil to pay the rent. And my own jar is still half full.

SNIDELY - But....

WIDOW --- And I shall sell more oil so that my children and I
may live a very comfortable life. So, now that you have your
money, Mr Snidely, please leave. (points to exit)

SNIDELY - But...

WIDOW --- Business is business, Mr Snidely. Out. (points to
exit)

SNIDELY - (covers face with cape exits) Curses, foiled again.


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