The Art of Running Guys Over

I used to worry that I would never have a boyfriend, that I would never find
someone who I cared about enough to want to date, let alone marry. I was so
scared that I'd go through life pitifully alone. But you know, when I finally
gave up searching for one, he kind of just fell into my lap. Raphael has been
my best friend for all my high school years. He's sweet, caring, and he's always
been there when I needed him. He's really close friends with my brother, and I
always felt like that's what he was to me: a brother, a twin even. His birthday
was exactly four months before mine, to the day. February 23rd and June
23rd. It was like destiny that we were supposed to be best friends.
After two and a half years of being just that, something happened. Something
horrible, something stupid, something we could have prevented. Rapha got
run over. You jump up and say "Oh my gosh, is he alright!?", but just let me
tell the story.
I was going home with him 'til this extra credit thing at my English teacher's
house that night. Mrs. Dewhirst lives on the same road Raph does, so it made
more sense than going home, since I live fifteen miles away. My brother
offered us a ride down to Raph's car, at the other end of the parking lot, so we,
instead of getting in the car, got on the hood. Yeah I know it's stupid, you
don't have to tell me again. Trust me I know.
I keep seeing him slide off, the look on his face when the tire went over his leg.
It was horrible, horrible. I don't think I've cried so much before in my entire
life. I was scared... so scared... Scared for Raph, scared for my brother, scared
for everything. When I think about all of the ways it could have happened, I
am so grateful that God watches over fools. And a fool I am. To try to convince
myself for two and a half years that I didn't like him. To try to play it cool and
be his friend, to not let all of my other friends who liked him know that I was
in the same boat. To try to think something stupid wouldn't result in
something else even more stupid.
About three weeks after the accident, after going to see him everyday after
school for a week while his leg healed, talking about what had happened,
carrying his books and watching him hobble along on crutches for a week, I
think it clicked. We realized what could have happened... And with that, what
should have happened a long time ago. He asked me to our school's winter
semi-formal dance, at that was that. A few weeks later, he asked me out. And
here we are now, seeing what so many people told us before the fact, to just
get it over with. And maybe we needed the accident.
I kind of took him for granted before that, thinking he'd be there when I
needed him, that I didn't need him like that. We've talked about this, and
agreed that if the accident hadn't happened, we wouldn't be together.
Actually, our friends Jonny and Colleen are going through some tough times
right now. Colleen won't let go and Jonny won't commit. Strange
combination, but they do love each other. Now I think they just need to get it
over with. Too bad Colleen doesn't have an older brother, or else we could
teach him the art of running guys over...


Confessions of a Soap Star

Background Info: Claudia is a spoiled soap star who has no idea
what real life is like.
They think they know me; they think they know me so well. I'll pass by a
supermarket and be informed of the glamorous weekend that "Claudia" had.
Apparently I went to Malibu and got Crazy with all my soap star friends. You
know it's a funny thing being informed of the goings on of your weekend while
you're out walking your dear little doggie. These sorts of things are ALWAYS
happening to me, and I feel so violated by the media. All these lies they write
about me in the tabloids, "Claudia just got dumped by her hunky prime time
boyfriend." "Claudia got her car impounded because she couldn't bother to
park in a normal space." That is why I have decided to set the record straight,
right here; right now in front of ALL of you. I am going to let you know the
REAL Claudia Picklewink.
First you must know that it is NOT easy being me, I have to look my best at all
times, have you any idea how early I must get up so my personal hair and
make up crews can make me presentable to society? And people are calling
me all time, my assistant tells me all the stories of the calls she's received for
me. And it is not easy breaking up with a primetime star boyfriend; yes I
broke up with HIM. He didn't break up with me, but he did make the worst
mistake ever" He got me Pink roses, PINK. EVERYONE knows RED roses are
my favorite not pink. And my car was towed because some jerk moved it, I'm
sure it was because they had some sort of extreme hate for me. It's not like I
would park in a handicapped space on purpose.
You know I am not a bad person. I am really not, I'm all for that charity, save
the world from global warming rah-rah. Like those pedigree commercials
about adopting dogs, I did adopt a dog... a miniature Shitzu-poo from Paris,
yes my Pookie was flown first class to America for his new home. I gave an
animal a home, doesn't that count for something. And my job, it makes such
an impact on the world. My character in Broken Times touches the lives of
women all over the planet. How many people can say that? What really hurts
me is that people call me a spoiled brat. It's not like I had the most lavish up
bringing. I had to earn my money; it wasn't just handed to me. My parents
gave me a used car for my 16th birthday, and I had to pay for my own prom
dress. And people are all like "Did you see that new bag Claudia had, it must
have cost a fortune, why isn't she more frugal with her money?" Just because I
like quality things does not make me a spoiled brat. It's infuriating. Do you
think I'm a spoiled brat? DO YOU? You do don't you. Why am I even pouring
my soul out to you? My life is so difficult.


Brace Face

Background Info: This is a junior high aged girl who is annoyed
with having braces, and she is extremely self-conscious and
believes the world is conspiring against her.
Today's my anniversary. That's right. Four years ago today, I began a new life
- a life of captivity - a life of torture. I got.....braces. Four years later, and
they're still attached to my teeth, just waiting for another opportunity to ruin
my life.
Let's discuss wax. Wax: it comes from bees. It comes from your ears. You
make candles with it. You don't stick it on your teeth. What were
orthodontists thinking anyway. Oh! And rubber bands. Let's talk about rubber
bands, shall we?! Last I checked, rubber bands were for holding newspapers
together, not my teeth. But, you know, I can deal with wax and rubber bands.
I can deal with aching teeth. I can even deal with the headgear, but nothing,
NOTHING comes close to my biggest enemy: wonder bread sandwiches.
Have you ever noticed that when you eat wonder bread sandwiches, they get,
well, sticky. Add in metal brackets, and you can raise the sticky factor to the
20th power. So you're sitting there eating your wonder bread sandwich at
lunch, when you realize, you've got a wonder bread sandwich particle stuck in
your braces. So you immediately go to Plan A: the tongue method.
(Demonstrate) You're feeling around, trying to get that sucker out with your
tongue - inconspicuously, of course! Well, the tongue method's not working.
Time for.......
Plan B: the suction method. Everyone knows that if you close your mouth and
suck in, you will create a make-shift vacuum. So if a vacuum works on carpet,
why not your mouth? Naturally! So you begin the suction process.
(Demonstrate) while still trying to carry on your conversation, mind you. That
wonder bread sandwich particle has beaten you again! (Act like the bread is
your enemy) so........
Plan C: the finger method. By this time, you've past inconspicuousness and
moved right on ahead to looking like a bit of a nerd, but no matter how hard
you try, your pinky just won't fit in between those two little brackets. Alas, you
turn to the dreaded Last Resort!
Plan D: ........hold on, allow me to explain. You remember that little toothpick
looking thing your dad made you promise to carry around but you vowed
you'd never use it? in public? Yes, well, there's no turning back now. You look
around and say, "all right wonder bread sandwich particle, you've beaten me
for the last time. I'm coming in!" So you plunge right in with that toothpick
and .........
Success! You've done it! You've beaten the wonder bread sandwich particle.
But - woe is me! Another predicament! What to do with the particle on the
toothpick??? What to do, what to do. You can't eat it, you can't set it on the
table and pretend it hasn't been in your mouth all this time, and you can't just
get up and go to the garbage holding a half-eaten wonder bread sandwich
particle.
Meanwhile, as you're deciding what the best plan of action is, that cute boy
walks by. You know the one, and he's looking in your direction. Sort of, but
that doesn't matter! He's looking at your whole half of the lunchroom!!!! Your
heart's pounding fast, you're hair's looking frizzy again, you can't think of
what to say, and you just want to scream! Okay, calm down. But then, he gives
you that funny look, like this. (Demonstrate) oh no, what have you done
wrong? Was it obvious that you adore the ground he even looks at, let alone
walks on? And then it hits you. You're still holding the wonderbread sandwich
particle on the toothpick, and you just want to die......(fade out, beat).
Yeah, that's what I said! There's a conspiracy against the youth of America.
One by one the wonderbread sandwich company is crushing the dreams of
teenagers everywhere! (back to reality, realizes the audience is still there) So
there you have it. Just one simple way that braces ruin my life. My dad says it
will all be worth it when my teeth are straight and perfect, but who wants to
be perfect anyway? ............yeah, me too.

Im not your counselor!
I hate it when they all come running to me when they need someone to listen
to them whine. I guess they just carelessly suspect that I'm immune to sadness
and depression. What they don't see is that I'm just like them. To them, I'm
this pillar of happiness that's always standing up proudly. To them, I've got no
troubles in my daily life-- it's all just flowers and sunshine. They don't stop to
consider that maybe all this depression surrounding me gets me down once in
a while.
But, no, they've got their own problems to deal with first. So, they come to me.
They want to hear me say that everything will be okay in the end, and that
things really aren't as bad as they seem to be. I need to listen to them ramble
on about their crushes not liking them and their boyfriends not spending
every minute of every hour of every day with them.
Maybe... it's my fault. I put on this front like I'm always so happy and cheery,
so they naturally come to the happiest person they can find within a mile
radius. Maybe they're hoping a little bit of my happiness will be passed onto
them. Maybe they think that they'll be happier if they're like me.
Oh, God. Stop me. I'm going on an ego trip again.
But they wouldn't want this happiness spared onto them-- if you can even call
it happiness. I can barely handle it anymore. People say that I'd make a good
psychologist, and maybe they're right. But if it means dealing with all of this
everyday, I don't think I would. I don't think I could! I--
I've really got to stop saying "I" so much.
"Tommy Boy"
Background Info: Tommy is a Sophomore in high school. He's a nice looking
teen, who loves to be around his friends. He is outgoing, except when it comes
to girls. Tommy's talking to his friend Ivan after school while waiting for the
bus.
Tommy: Dude, you'll never believe what happened to me today. It all started
when I woke up this morning. You know usually I press the snooze button about
four or five times...but today was different, when I heard the alarm, I just sprang
out of bed and said to myself, "Today is going to be a great day!" I don't know
why I said it, but I was feeling great! I got in the shower and found myself
humming a cool song I heard the day before. While I was combing my hair in the
mirror, I noticed that not only was it a great hair day, but my skin seemed
different too....alive and glowing, and no it wasn't that new acne cream I'd been
using...it was LIFE! So instead of dragging around, I threw on my clothes and
headed out. When I got on the bus, the girls seemed to look at me differently. I
thought maybe it was my confidence, or the hair, but then I thought who the heck
cares, they were looking at me! So I looked back at them and they giggled. I was
on top of the world! I went and got a seat in the back of the bus...then it came to
me, I had a presentation due in first period... I wasn't about to let that ruin my day.
I knew the material and I was on a roll. A few moments later, walking down the
hallway, it was like a movie, almost every group of girls turned to look at me, it
started to become really spooky actually. My next thought was, with my luck, I
should be playing lottery. I got to my first period class and sat down. It's almost
like I could feel Jamie, that hottie that sits behind me in class, staring at the back
of my head...It felt great! And of course, I was called first to read my presentation
to the class, so I strolled up to the front of the room with a gleaming smile...I
actually winked at this girl who snickered at me in the front row...man was I
getting bold! I couldn't help myself though, this never happened to me before, it
was like a dream, and right when I was getting ready to start my presentation, the
teacher called me aside...I thought I'd gone too far with the winking, but decided
not to lose my cool and casually stroll over to her to recieve my reprimand. Dude,
when she started talking to me, my stomach dropped to my feet, like I was on a
fast roller coaster ride, and I could feel my face turning as white as a ghost. It was
like the whole day flashed before my eyes. Well I thanked the teacher anyway,
turned away from the class, swallowed my pride and zipped-up my fly.

Shaping Up
Background Info: Bill is sensitive, creative, imaginative, and is more
into computers, than he is into physical fitness. In a world, consumed
with staying in shape, Bill is like a fish out-of-water. He becomes
rebellious, as he is faced with confronting his weakness.

Miss Meyers, can you just answer me just one qestion?...Why is it that I
have to take P.E. every stinking year, because really...I want to know. I
mean every year, it's exactly the same, I'm forced to humiliate myself in
front of the rest of the class. It's not so bad for the kids who are atheletes,
but for the rest of us, like me, it's not so easy.(Beat) Yes, Miss Meyers...I
know, I know...P.E. is just as important as algebra and biology, and yes I
agree that you should get a grade based on yor abilities and skills. But
everyone has to take the same class! They don't have "Basic P.E." like they
have "General Science" or "Basic Math"...that would be a whole different
subject completely! And why do we have to rotate activities all the time,
why can't we stick with one thing for awhile, that way I could redeem
myself by getting better at something. Soccer and Basketball aren't so bad,
but this body shouldn't be on a balance beam during gymnastics. I just
become entertainment for the rest of the class. High school is humiliating
enough without coming in five minutes after everyone else during the mile
run...while they're showered and going to lunch, I'm just crossing the finish
line. I already know the theory around fitness...it-is-a-part-of-a-well-
rounded-education. But the the least they could do is level the playing field
for everyone. I know there's not much you can do for me, but thanks, for at
least letting me get that off my chest...See you in the gym.