UP, UP AND AWAY
Comedy, by Ken Bradbury, 2004
An obnoxious kid, a mother who doesn’t care, a man afraid of flying and his wife — sit next to each other on a plane. The kid generates the trouble but the man passenger has the last laugh.The 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.
- 3 Females, 2 Males
Product Id: #784
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An excerpt …
(time for boarding)
SEYMOUR: We gonna crash, Mom? We gonna crash and burn?
DORA: (showing complete disinterest) We can’t. Your Uncle Freeman is picking us up in Las Vegas at five.
SEYMOUR: Man, if we got a hole in this thing the pressure would suck in so fast our eyeballs’d pop out, then “Bam!” We’d go shootin’ right out through the side the plane.
DORA: Just don’t spill your drink, honey.
SEYMOUR: Cool! You can see Texas from here!
DORA: That’s the luggage truck, sweetheart. Have you seen my earplugs?
HARRY: (entering) I can’t do it! I’m tellin’ ya I can’t do it, Flora!
FLORA: Don’t be silly, Harry. It’s just an airplane! You’ve seen pictures of ‘em.
HARRY: But I ain’t never been on one! Flora, we can walk to Las Vegas. It’s only a few hundred miles. I feel great. Really!
(The kid meets “fear of flying.”)
SEYMOUR: (to Harry and Flora) You guys ever flown before?
FLORA: No, this is our first time.
SEYMOUR: You scared?
HARRY: Hit him, Flora. Jab him a quick one then look the other way.
SEYMOUR: Mom! The man’s being mean to me!
DORA: (still in half-slumber) That’s nice, dear. Drink your milk.
SEYMOUR: (to the couple) You ever see a plane go down?
HARRY: Hit him hard, Flora. Make it painful.
SEYMOUR: You got root beer?
HARRY: Always carry it with me. Special brand. Can you read?
SEYMOUR: Not too much.
HARRY: Good. Here. (hands him a bottle) It’s brand new … Super Root Beer!
FLORA: Harry, what are you doing? That’s your Ben Gay back ointment.
HARRY: Oh. (smiling) Must have read it wrong.
SEYMOUR: You mean I’m the first to try it? Cool! (unscrews the cap and takes a large swig, then finally eeks out a…) Ma … Ma! …
DORA: (half-asleep) Tell your Aunt Mildred I’ll call her back.
SEYMOUR: Ma … Ma!
FLORA: Harry, he’s choking!
HARRY: Ain’t it grand? Ain’t it grand?
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