Wednesday, October 26, 2011
That's Not Scary Enough - One Act Play
That’s Not Scary Enough – One Act Play
Scene: Mother telling her son a bedtime story
M (Mother) B (Boy)
M: Once upon a time, there was a small boy who lived in a cabin in the woods with his grandfather. The cabin was old and the wind whistled through the cracks in the walls at night. It was also very dark, because they only had candles and kerosene lanterns.
B: Why didn’t they just turn on the lights?
M: Well, they didn’t have power like we have in the city. There weren’t any electrical lines that ran that far out into the woods.
B: That’s pretty scary. I bet they didn’t have a phone either. That would make the story even scarier.
M: That’s true. Okay, we’ll add that. They only had candles and kerosene lanterns and no phone line. Cell phones didn’t work either because they were too far from a cell tower.
B: Nice touch, mom.
M: So, on a stormy October night, the wind whistled through the walls and the sounds coming from outside were creepy. They heard a wolf howling in the distance. The trees cracked and popped. The storm moved closer as each moment passed.
B: I bet they were really scared. How about having someone knock at the door?
M: Good idea. Suddenly, there came a knock at the door. The boy and his grandfather froze in place. Who could be knocking at this late hour? The grandfather shook his head at the boy as if to say, 'Don't go near the door'.
B: Why don't you have the person at the door say something like, “I know you’re in there. I will get you before the night is through.” Now that’s scary.
M: Yes, it is. So, the boy and his grandfather pushed a big wooden dresser up against the door and sat there all night protecting their house.
B: That’s not scary enough. You need to have the voice keep saying things all night like, “You’ll never be safe. There’s nowhere to hide. Time is running out.”
M: Yes, that’s good. As the night wore on the voice could be heard all around the house; not just at the door. They saw flashes of light through the cracks in the walls and shadowy shapes flickering across the floor. There was tapping on the roof and scratching at the windows. They were surrounded by something, but what could it be?
B: I don’t know. What could it be?
M: When the first light of morning peeked through the windows, the sounds ceased and the wind calmed. No more scratching at the windows or tapping on the roof, and no more voice. The grandfather and boy shoved the dresser away from the door and peeked out. There on the doorstep was a small note held in place by a large stone. The note said:
I’m known as the Halloween ghost,
I love scaring children the most,
I’ll be back next year,
Bringing more fear,
Maybe you’ll offer some toast.
B: That’s just silly, mom. A ghost wouldn’t say that. The last line should be: I promise you both will be toast. Now that’s scary. It was a good story, mom, but it just wasn’t scary enough. Maybe next time add a mummy, werewolf or graveyard, and blood, lots of blood.
M: Maybe next time I’ll let you tell the story.
B: Now we’re talkin’. Goodnight, mom. Love you.
M: Love you too.
B: Mom, could you leave the light on in the hall?