Telephone Talk 
by Margaret Schroder

CHARACTERS
SOUND EFFECTS VOICE
ANSWERPHONE TWO
CHRIS
ANSWERPHONE ONE
JESS 

Scene:  ANSWERPHONE ONE and ANSWERPHONE TWO are seated cross-legged, 
with their arms folded, on boxes a few metres apart.  CHRIS, with hand 
to ear as though talking on the phone, stands next to ANSWERPHONE 
ONE.  Note:  CHRIS always enters from and exits to the right of the 
stage.  JESS enters from and exits to the left of the stage.

SOUND EFFECTS.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-r-ing.
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Hello.  Jess here.  We are all busy at the moment and 
cannot take your call.  Please leave a message after the beep, and we'll get 
back to you as soon as we can.
SOUND EFFECTS.  Beep.
CHRIS.  Hi, Jess.  Chris here.  Just checking to see if you're still coming over on 
Wednesday.  Ring me back when you're free.
chris mimes replacing the telephone receiver and then exits.  jess enters 
and, with hand to ear, stands next to answerphone two.
SOUND EFFECTS.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  Kia ora, talofa, greetings, gidday.  It's plain to see we're 
far away.  Leave a message so we can phone.  We'll call you back when we 
get home. 
SOUND EFFECTS.  Beep.
jess.  Hello, Chris.  This is Jess returning your call.  I can't come on 
Wednesday after all, but how about Thursday?  Let me know if that suits 
you.  By the way, I like your answerphone message.  I think I'll change ours.  
(JESS mimes replacing the telephone receiver and then presses ANSWERPHONE 
two's nose as if pressing a button.)  We're not in France, we're not in Spain, 
we're not in trouble, we're not in pain.  We're just not in, so have your say.  
We'll call you back if that's OK.  (JESS takes her finger off ANSWERPHONE 
TWO'S nose.)  There.  That's better. 
JESS exits.
ANSWERPHONE two.  What a stupid message.  I'm not saying that.  I'll change it 
to something better myself.  (ANSWERPHONE TWO presses her nose with her 
finger.)  Whir-r-r, click.  Whir-r-r, click.  Beep.  (ANSWERPHONE two takes 
her finger off her nose.)  Much better.
CHRIS re-enters and, with hand to ear, stands by ANSWERPHONE ONE.
SOUND EFFECTS VOICE.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Thanks for calling Jess, Sam, Lara, and Ed.  They're busy 
elsewhere but I'm always here to answer your call.  Leave your message, and 
I'll make sure they get it.
SOUND EFFECTS.  Beep.
CHRIS.  Chris here again.  You're hard to get hold of, Jess.  I seem to spend all 
my time talking to your answerphone.  I can't make it on Thursday.  How 
about Friday?  Let me know soon.  By the way, your new answerphone 
message is very clever.  I think I'll change ours, too.  (CHRIS mimes 
replacing the telephone receiver and then presses ANSWERPHONE ONE'S nose.)   
I'm here to take a message for Chris, Mark, Jason, or the cat.  So wait for 
the beep.  Wait for the beep.  Wait for the beep!
CHRIS exits.
ANSWERPHONE one.   These messages are getting sillier and sillier.  What's 
wrong with a simple message that's straight to the point?  I'm going to 
change it.  (ANSWERPHONE ONE presses his own nose.)  Whir-r-r, click.   Whir-
r-r, click.  Beep.  (ANSWERPHONE ONEtakes his finger off his nose.)  That's 
better.
JESS enters and stands, hand to ear, next to ANSWERPHONE TWO.
SOUND EFFECTS VOICE.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-ing.  Br-r-r-ing, br-r-r-r-ing.
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  You have reached Chris, Mark, Jason, and the cat.  We 
cannot take your call right now, but it is important to us.  Any messages left 
after the beep will be passed on.
JESS.  Hi, Chris.  Jess here.  You're really hard to get hold of, too.  Seems our 
answerphone machines do nothing but talk to each other.  Friday morning is 
fine with me, but I'm busy that afternoon.  If Friday morning doesn't suit, 
how about Tuesday?  Let me know what you think.  You know, your new 
answerphone message is very good.  Maybe I'll change ours again – if I can 
think of something to change it to.  (She mimes replacing the telephone 
receiver.)  I could record a rap … or a limerick …  
JESS exits deep in thought.
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  Answerphone One calling Answerphone Two.  Answerphone 
One calling Answerphone Two.  Are you there, Answerphone Two?
ANSWERPHONE two.  Hearing you loud and clear, Answerphone One.  What's new?
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  The boss keeps changing my messages.  I'm getting so 
confused, I don't know what I'm supposed to say.
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Me, too.  I wish they'd leave us alone.  What message are 
you saying now?
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  "You have reached kia ora and talofa.  The cat isn't home, 
but greetings are important to us.  Your message is far away, and Chris has 
passed on."  Does that sound right?
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Sounds a bit confusing to me.  Listen to mine.  "Yo, bro.  
What's happenin', dude?  Jess is in trouble, and Sam's been rude.  Lara and 
Ed are busy in Spain, so talk to me, I'm not a pain."
ANSWERPHONE one.  That sounds a bit strange, too.  What should we do?
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Why don't you check with Answerphone Three or 
Answerphone Four?  They're pretty good with messages.
ANSWERPHONE ONE.  Good idea.  I'll call you back later. 
ANSWERPHONE TWO.  Fine. Meantime, I'll ring Answerphone Seven dash One for 
a chat.  She's the latest model, so she'll probably know what we should say.
ANSWERPHONE ONE and ANSWERPHONE TWO talk together in  quiet mumbles 
as JESS and CHRIS enter and meet in the centre of the stage.
JESS.  Chris!  Glad I bumped into you.  I've been trying to ring you for ages, but 
your phone's always engaged.
CHRIS.  I know what you mean.  Your line's always busy these days, too.  What's 
going on?
JESS.  Beats me.  It's the same when I try to phone my other friends.  It's really 
weird. 
chris.  It sure is.  Hey, do you think there could be something wrong with our 
answerphones?
chris and jess exit, shrugging. 

Here We Go Again!
by Peter Friend

CHARACTERS:
CAPTAIN
ZERSAK
FOOPIL
SCRID
GUPWUP
OTHERS (any number of crew members) 

Scene:  The control room of the Thyrungian imperial 
spaceship Proton Crusher.  All crew members are 
Thyrungians – green-skinned, three-eyed, and 
tentacled.  The CAPTAIN is walking back and forth, 
giving orders to the rest of the crew, who busily 
press buttons and levers at their consoles.  

CAPTAIN.  Zersak, increase super-hyper-warp speed to 
three zillion megazooms.
ZERSAK.  Increased to three zillion, Captain.
CAPTAIN.  Foopil, adjust the primary electron flow to 
seven point seven quargle-hums.
FOOPIL.  Adjusted to seven point seven, Captain.
CAPTAIN.  Scrid, how long until we arrive back at 
Thyrung, our beautiful purple homeplanet?
SCRID.  Three and a half days, Captain.
CAPTAIN.  Excellent.  We're right on schedule.  Gupwup, 
get me a snarf sandwich, please.  With mustard. 
GUPWUP goes to another console and presses some 
buttons.
GUPWUP.  Sorry, Captain, but the food computer's broken 
down again.  It refuses to make anything except slig 
casserole.
FOOPIL.  Aaaargh!
CAPTAIN.  Calm down, Foopil.  Slig casserole isn't that 
bad.  Not if you put plenty of barbecue sauce on it.
FOOPIL (pointing to a wall) .  It's not the casserole, 
Captain.  Look on the wall between the plasma 
defribulator and the coffee machine – there's a smear 
of fresh blood.  Fresh red blood.
CAPTAIN (going over and looking at the blood).  Red blood?  
Red?  That can only mean one thing – someone on this 
spaceship is not Thyrungian.
SCRID. You mean one of us decent, clean-living 
Thyrungians is really one of those filthy human 
monsters in disguise? 
CAPTAIN.  I'm afraid so.
OTHERS.  Aaaargh!  (They look at each other suspiciously.)  
It's not me.
SCRID.  Hey, look at Zersak's hand – it's bandaged.
ZERSAK (sighing and taking off his mask to reveal a 
human head).  You've blown my cover, Scrid.  Yes, I'm 
a human spy, and I'm proud of it.  Down with the 
Thyrungian imperial oppressors!
OTHERS.  Aaaargh!
Everyone except captain and zersak runs to the other 
end of the control room.  
CAPTAIN.  Gupwup, arrest Zersak!
GUPWUP.  Never!  (Takes off mask.)  Zersak, I'm with you.  
Yes, you foolish Thyrungians, I too am a human secret 
agent.
OTHERS.  Aaaargh!
Everyone except CAPTAIN, ZERSAK, and GUPWUP run to 
the middle of the control room.
FOOPIL.  Look at them, they're hideous  They've only got 
two eyes.  And not even a tentacle.
SCRID.  That's right, Thyrungian.  Not even a tiny 
tentacle. (Takes off mask.)  Long live the glorious 
Human Federation.
All "Thyrungians" except the captain look at each 
other and then pull off their masks.
OTHERS (except the CAPTAIN).  We're all human!  
SCRID.  Except for one.
Everyone looksat the captain.
CAPTAIN.  Well … well, well, well …  (He pulls off his 
mask.)  We certainly did a good job of infiltrating the 
crew, didn't we?
FOOPIL.  I suppose this was bound to happen eventually.  
After all, we do have seventeen thousand secret agents 
in this galaxy.
ZERSAK.  Those masks were awfully good, weren't they?  I 
spent months infiltrating my way on board this ship, 
andI never once guessed you weren't all genuine, 
horrible Thyrungians.
GUPWUP.  We all made the same mistake.  Now what are 
we supposed to do – spy on each other?  Sabotage the 
ship and blow ourselves up?  We've failed.  We've 
disgraced the Spy Academy and all of Earth. (Starts to 
cry.) 
CAPTAIN.  What do you mean?  We haven't failed at all.  
We've captured a Thyrungian spaceship.  It's bound to 
be full of really top secret military thingies.  We'll fly 
it back to Earth – we'll be heroes!
OTHERS.  Yay!
GUPWUP.  By the way, I was lying about the food computer 
breaking down.  I thought you were all Thyrungians, so 
I made you eat slig casserole all the time just to annoy 
you.  
OTHERS.  What!
GUPWUP.  Yes, the food computer is actually in perfect 
working order, so would anyone like a delicious meal of 
pseudo-chicken casserole with mockpotatoes, followed 
by freeze-dried apple pie with non-dairy whipped 
cream?
EVERYONE (except FOOPIL).  Yay!
FOOPIL.  Aaaah!
CAPTAIN.  It's all right, Foopil.  If you don't like apple 
pie, you can have chocolate cake instead.
FOOPIL (pointing).  It's not the apple pie, Captain.  Look 
there, on the antimatter antifreeze freezer.  It's 
another smear of fresh blood.  Green blood.  
captain.  Green blood?  That can only mean one thing.  
ZERSAK.  That's right.  Someone on this spaceship isn't 
human, after all.
OTHERS.  Oh, no!
CAPTAIN.  Here we go again.


A Risky Occupation
by Jane Buxton

Characters
PALACE MANAGER
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER
JOB SEEKER
COOK

SCENE:  Outside the palace gates.  To one side there is a 
chair and a small desk with papers on it.  The PALACE 
MANAGER is walking up and down, shouting.

PALACE MANAGER.  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  Anyone looking for a job, 
please step this way!  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  A dangerous and 
interesting job has now become vacant at the palace!
COOK enters.
COOK.  No luck yet, Palace Manager?
PALACE MANAGER (glumly).  No, Cook.  I still haven't found 
anyone to be the new royal food taster.
COOK.  Well, I can't say I'm surprised.  Since someone began 
poisoning the king's meals ten days ago, we've lost every food 
taster you've employed.  Word soon gets around, you know.
PALACE MANAGER.  I know, I know.  But there has to be someone 
who hasn't heard the, er, ghastly details.  (COOK shrugs and 
exits.)  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  A dangerous and interesting job 
has now become vacant at the palace!
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER enters, carrying shovel and toilet 
brush.
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER.  I'd like to apply for the job.
PALACE MANAGER.  Oh, it's you again.  Look here, you've applied 
for this job every day for the last ten days, and the answer is 
still the same.  No!  The royal toilet cleaner is not eligible to 
apply for other jobs.
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER (whining).  But the job of royal food 
taster is so well paid.  And cleaning the royal toilets is the 
worst paid job in the kingdom.  Ple-ease?
PALACE MANAGER.  No, no, no!  I'm looking for a person of great 
courage and high intelligence, someone who is absolutely 
trustworthy.
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER.  That's me!  That's me!
PALACE MANAGER.  Huh!  You can't even be trusted to wash your 
hands after you've finished cleaning the toilets.  Be off with 
you!  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  Anyone looking for a job, please 
step this way!  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER exits.  JOB SEEKER enters.
JOB SEEKER.  Excuse me, I've come about the job.
PALACE MANAGER.  You have?  Splendid!  (He sits down at the 
desk.)
JOB SEEKER.  What exactly is this job?  Is it easy?
PALACE MANAGER.  Well – yes.  But it could be a little 
unpleasant at times.
JOB SEEKER.  It's not cleaning the royal toilets, is it?
PALACE MANAGER.  My goodness, no!  It's not that unpleasant.  
But it is a challenging job, a dangerous job …
JOB SEEKER.  Great!  I thrive on challenges.  In fact, I love 
danger of all sorts.  I love to pit my wits against the enemy.
PALACE MANAGER.  Jolly good.  You sound like just the person 
for the job.
JOB SEEKER.  And what is the job?
palace manager.  It's very challenging and dangerous work …
JOB SEEKER.  So you keep saying. But what exactly will I be 
doing?
PALACE MANAGER.  You'll be working for the king. (He takes the 
JOB SEEKER to one side and speaks to him confidentially.)  
You may not know this, but the king's life is in great danger.  
Someone is trying to kill him. 
ROYAL TOILET CLEANER walks  past on his way to the 
kitchen, giving the  PALACE MANAGER and the  JOB 
SEEKER evil looks and nodding knowingly at the 
audience. He goes into the kitchen.
JOB SEEKER.  So my job will be to protect the king?
PALACE MANAGER.  Er, well, you could put it like that.
JOB SEEKER.  I'd be into that. (She pulls out her sword and 
begins sharpening it.)
PALACE MANAGER.  It's wonderful to find someone who's so 
enthusiastic.  You see, many people have applied for this job, 
but the fact is, they just don't last.
JOB SEEKER.  You mean they quit?
PALACE MANAGER.  That's one way of putting it.
JOB SEEKER.  They get sick?
PALACE MANAGER.  Indeed, they do get very sick – I mean sick 
of it.
The ROYAL TOILET CLEANER tiptoes out of the kitchen and 
off stage.
JOB SEEKER.  It's not fighting dragons, is it?  That's a very 
tiring job.
PALACE MANAGER.  No.  It's not dragons.  But it's very risky, all 
the same.  You need real guts for this job.
JOB SEEKER.  No worries!  Just tell me what I have to do.
PALACE MANAGER.  You've got the right attitude, you know.  
That's a big help.
JOB SEEKER.  Sure.  But I want to know …
PALACE MANAGER (interrupting).  The money's good – two 
hundred gold pieces a week.
JOB SEEKER.  A week!  You must mean a year!
PALACE MANAGER.  No.  A week.  
JOB SEEKER.  Wow!  People must be dying to have this job.
PALACE MANAGER.  You could say that.  Unfortunately, no one 
has survived – I mean lasted long enough at the job to 
collect their wages.
JOB SEEKER.  What are they?  A bunch of wimps, or what?
PALACE MANAGER.  Well, the job's not everyone's cup of tea, so to 
speak.
JOB SEEKER.  Tell me more.
PALACE MANAGER.  It's a live-in job.  You'll sleep in a room right 
by the kitchen.  I hope that's OK?
JOB SEEKER.  Not a problem!  I love eating!
PALACE MANAGER.  This is just the work for you, then.  You'll be 
eating exactly the same meals as the king himself – only 
you'll be having yours a little earlier than His Majesty.
JOB SEEKER.  Fantastic!  When do I start?
PALACE MANAGER.  So you want the job?
JOB SEEKER.  Sure!  The money's great, I'll be protecting the 
king (she waves her sword around), and I'll be eating good 
food.  Mmm.  What's that yummy smell?
PALACE MANAGER.  That's the king's dinner cooking.  Here.  Just 
sign this paper, and the job is yours.
JOB SEEKER.  No problem!  (She signs the paper without reading 
it.)  Mmm.  I can smell bacon-and-egg pie, baby carrots, new 
peas, and mashed spuds.
PALACE MANAGER (going to the palace door).  Cook!  Bring out 
the dinner! 
COOK brings a plate of food.
COOK.  Here you are, sir, bacon-and-egg pie, baby carrots, new 
peas, and mashed potatoes.
JOB SEEKER (eating as she talks).  Mmm.  This is choice.  Does 
the king eat like this every day?
The COOK and the PALACE MANAGER stare at the JOB 
SEEKER, watching her closely and nudging one another. 
The ROYAL TOILET CLEANER enters, unseen by the others, 
and tiptoes towards the kitchen.  He carries a large 
bottle of cleaning fluid labelled with a skull and 
crossbones
JOB SEEKER (patting her stomach).  Yum.  That was an excellent 
meal.  Why are you staring at me like that?
COOK.  Oh!  We're not!
PALACE MANAGER.  No!  Not at all!  Did it taste all right?  It 
didn't taste – bitter, did it?
COOK.  How does your stomach feel?
JOB SEEKER.  Fine.  Just fine.  But I'm still hungry.
COOK.  Of course!  The pudding!  (She runs to get it.)  
Strawberry pudding – the king's favourite.
PALACE MANAGER.  Not that he gets to eat it very often these 
days.
The COOK and the PALACE MANAGER watch closely as the JOB 
SEEKER eats the pudding.
JOB-SEEKER.  Mmm, this pudding tastes … a-aagh!
She holds her stomach and falls to the ground. The COOK 
and the PALACE MANAGER bend over her.
COOK.  Another one bites the dust.  She's as dead as a king's 
food taster!  Ha, ha, ha!
PALACE MANAGER (shouting).  That joke's not funny any more, 
Cook!  That's the tenth food taster the palace has employed 
in the last ten days!  And they've all died the same way.
COOK.  Don't shout at me.  It's not my problem.
PALACE MANAGER.  You're right.  It's mine.  And if I fail to find 
someone for the job, the king has said that I must taste the 
food myself.
COOK.  You'd better hurry up, then.  The king is dying for some 
– I mean, hanging out for some strawberry pudding.
COOK drags the body off stage.  The PALACE MANAGER walks 
up and down, shouting.
PALACE MANAGER.  Hear ye!  Hear ye!  Anyone looking for a job, 
step this way, please.  A dangerous and interesting job has … 
oh, curses!  I give up.  Where is that toilet cleaner?  (ROYAL 
TOILET CLEANER enters, looking excited and rubbing his hands 
together.)  Hey, you!  Do you still want the job?


