BACK OLIVEOIL 6'2m1f Elisha's miracle gives a widow rent money (melodrama overacting) WIDOW --- (southern belle) 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. Snidley. (knock, knock, knock) I fear that may be Mr Snidely at my the door now. Whatever shall I do? (door open) Mr Snidely, whatever could you be doing at my door? SNIDELY - (greasy) 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 enough to make the rent payment. SNIDELY - Then, you're out on the street, sweet. 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. 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, if.... WIDOW --- If what, Mr Snidely? I'll do anything. SNIDELY - 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. 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... 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, fading) Yuh uh uh. (door close) 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) Whoever could that be? Could it be that dastardly Horace J Snidely again, coming to renege on his promise? (door open) Who are you? ELISHA -- (Dudley Doright, too confident and too enthusiastic) Good evening, Madame, my name is Elisha and I am here to save the day for you. WIDOW --- 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 --- 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. 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. 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. Forget it. I'm out of here. (door close, pause, knock, knock, knock) WIDOW --- Oh, is it tomorrow already? Time sure flies on the radio. That must be that dastardly Mr Horace J Snidley at the door demanding his rent money. Won't he be surprised? SNIDELY - 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 Snidley, but I have your rent money for you. Here. SNIDELY - That's impossible. Where did you get all this money? In fact, where did you get all these jars? WIDOW --- It's a miracle from God, Mr Snidely. All these jars are filled with olive oil. I poured them all from my own half-full jar of oil, which is still half full. I already sold some of the oil to pay the rent. SNIDELY - But.... WIDOW --- And I shall sell the rest of the oil and my children and I shall live a very comfortable life. So, now that you have your money, Mr Snidely, please leave. SNIDELY - But... WIDOW --- Business is business, Mr Snidely. Out. SNIDELY - (fading) Curses, foiled again. (door close) ©2013 Bob Snook. Conditions for use: Do not sell any part of this script, even if you rewrite it. Pay no royalties, even if you make money from performances. You may reproduce and distribute this script freely, but all copies must contain this copyright statement. http://www.bobsnook.org email: [email protected] BACK |