THE POOCH ROOM
Comedy, by Ken Bradbury, 2003
The scene — and we mean “scene” — is a vet’s office. A variety of dogs and people gatherThe number and gender of characters can be changed to accommodate available participants. Price is for a master script. Make as many copies as is required for your ensemble.
Duration8 - 10 minutes
- 4 Females
Product Id: #782
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An excerpt …
(At first, there was just one very sophisticated dog)
NURSE TWIDDLE: (into the phone) Mrs. Flippet, the doctor sees hamsters on Tuesdays. No, he isn’t hallucinating, he actually sees them. You’ll have to wait until Tuesday. Maybe your treadmill needs oil.
MRS. YIPPPER: (to Bridgettt) What? Her little tummy hurts too?
NURSE TWIDDLE: I’m sorry, Mrs. Flippet. I’ll put you down for Tuesday. (she slams down the phone) I’d like to put you down permanently. (to Mrs. Yipper) May I help you?
MRS. YIPPPER: Bridgettt is sick. Her tummy hurts.
NURSE TWIDDLE: How do you know that?
MRS. YIPPPER: She told me.
NURSE TWIDDLE: The dog told you?
MRS. YIPPPER: Dog? This is not a mere dog! This is a prize-winning Miniature Pomeranian Sofa Hound!
(then things got bigger)
NURSE TWIDDLE: Could I help you?
MRS. MASTIFF: (being pulled this way and that as she tries to speak) Beauregarde is just a little … nervous! Down boy! Down!
NURSE TWIDDLE: Are you here to see Doctor Hydrant?
MRS. MASTIFF: I’ll see … anybody … anybody! Beauregarde’s got a terrible … itch! Down boy! Down Beauregarde! Get off the desk, boy!
NURSE TWIDDLE: Yes, do get off the desk, Beauregarde. Big one, isn’t he? What breed?
MRS. MASTIFF: He’s a … Down boy! He’s a Siberian Humvee!
(then all sense of order broke down)
MRS. YIPPPER: (now on the floor, pinned down by a very large dog) Help! Help me!
NURSE TWIDDLE: At least you calmed him down.
MRS. YIPPPER: He’s licking my face! This monster is licking my face! Where’s Bridgett! Oh no! Where’s my precious Bridgett!
NURSE TWIDDLE: (moving to her desk) I’ll put her under “postage due” this time.
MRS. YIPPPER: Don’t put my dog in your drawer!
HARRIET: (still working at Croc) You had two eyes when you came in here, I swear you did.
MRS. MASTIFF: (pulling on Beauregarde’s rear end, trying to get him off Mrs. Yipper) Come on, Beauregarde. Get off the nice lady. It would help if you’d give him that cookie.
MRS. YIPPPER: This is my precious Bridgett’s cookie! Get away, you beast! Ouch! (Beauregarde has clamped onto her hand and pulls her to her knees) He’s got my hand in his mouth!
MRS. MASTIFF: Let go of the cookie!
MRS. YIPPPER: Never!
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