Monologues for Dramatic Students #5

Movie Director

CUT! No, no, NO! You run in, jump over the Motorcycle, not around it, THEN do the Army roll. Once you’re back
on your feet, go up these stairs, and your stunt double will jump through the window. By then, you’ll have made
your way around the back, and will reappear beside the garbage dumpster, you take out your sword, leave your
trademark Z on that clean, white sheet, then leap over the Taxi, and onto your horse. Ride the horse once
around the alley way, baddies will shoot at your, so act like you’re dodging, then grab the blue flag as you ride
out, two explosions will happen once you’re in the safe zone, so make sure you look back and admire your
handiwork, got it? It’s one long shot, don’t stop. Even if you make a mistake. OK, you look great out there, the
camera loves you, but do try to keep the hair out of your eyes. OK EVERYONE, let’s take it from the top. Third
take, I want this to be the one! QUIET ON THE SET!

Alien Conspirator

Don’t believe everything you hear. Aliens exist. I just know it. I’ve seen them myself. They’re all
around us. Some of them disguise themselves as human, others as an animal, the one I saw was
disguised as my old Aunt Doris. She HAS to be an Alien. We went to her house last weekend. It was
hot and stuffy with the heater on even though it was hot outside! No Human can possibly live in that
heat. Maybe if they had a space suit. It was so stuffy I couldn’t breathe, and the smell of stale
ketchup didn’t leave my nose for THREE DAYS! Can you believe it?! I can. I couldn’t find a ketchup
bottle anywhere so I just know the smell had to have been from my Alien Aunt, shedding her skin.
Gross, I tried to find her old skin, but she must have hidden it, because it wasn’t in the garbage. I
hoped it wasn’t the fancy blanket she put on my bed. Oh, and her food was out of this world too, and
not in a good way. In a “What on earth is this intergalactic pile of space-junk!?” It was awful, baked
beans with chicken, and two-minute noodles. Served on toast. She didn’t even butter the toast.
That’s extra extra-terrestrial! I hope you listen to my warning, the next time you think you’re at an
Alien’s house, do NOT eat the food!

Imaginative Child
My Papa is my hero. Every night, at the stroke of midnight, he goes to work. I don’t know what he does, but it
makes him happy. Very soon I’m going to find out, but I sometimes wonder if he’s a super-secret agent. Going
incognito all across the world, driving fast cars, and wearing fake noses. I hope he’s a Stunt performer, or an
Actor in plays, that would be pretty awesome. I like to hope he’s a Doctor, saving lives and making people
happy. It would be pretty amazing if he was a Skateboarder, but I’ve already seen him try to ride mine. I’d love
him to be a Dinosaur trainer, with a Tyrannosaur friend. But I bet he’s an astronaut, NO, wait, I bet he’s a
Policeman. I guess it doesn’t really matter what my Papa does, because at the end of the day, he’s happy. And
that makes me happy.

These monologues and more can be found in ‘Defence Against the Dramatic Arts’ – out now!
© 2017 Blooming Theatricals