Note: For my performance class in eighth grade, we did doing a play, but the only one our teacher could find was 30 minutes long, and she wanted to to be only 20 minutes. She gave the job to moi to cut it down, and, well, I pretty much totally edited to be Katy-fied. Hope you like it. ;D Anything in parenthesis is something the actor has to do. Sorry it's so awful.
Scaredy Cat
Characters:
GREG COLLIER, a private detective
HELEN PORTER, an actress – beneficiary in Leo Porter’s will
TOM DIXON, sarcastic – beneficiary in Leo Porter’s will
CYNTHIA MEADOWS, an aristocrat – beneficiary in Leo porter’s will
MR. FLEMING, executor of Porter estate
MS. MEGGS, housekeeper
BILL LAYTON, family black sheep
SUSIE, Cynthia’s maid
TIME: Late evening
SETTING: The drawing room of Leo Porter’s mansion
AT RISE: HELEN, TOM, CYNTHIA, and MR. FLEMING are seated in a semicircle, hands joined, at table downstage right, holding a séance. A lighted floor lamp stands next to table. Thunder and occasional gusts of wind are heard from offstage.
HELEN: Uncle Leo, can you hear me? (Pause) Uncle Leo, are you here with us? Can you give us a sign? (Thunder is heard; a cat screams. Greg comes on stage right with a large cat in his arms and flicks a light switch. Lights come on, Helen and Cynthia jump to their feet)
Cynthia: Oh, Gregory, you’ve ruined the séance, and on earth did that cat come from?
Tom: Cousin Cynthia, don’t be so hostile. Greg, won’t you join us on our creep-tastic way of communicating to the dead?
Helen: Oh, Tom, do be quiet, and respect Uncle Leo’s wishes.
Tom: You know you’re glad. What’s the point of this séance, anyway?
Fleming: It specified to do this in your uncle’s will. I wouldn’t question it.
Helen: Nor would I.
Tom: I wouldn’t trust anything in that will; it says Uncle Leo left 50,000 dollars to that cat! (Tom points to the cat in Greg’s arms)
Fleming: Your uncle was rather fond of Mr. Timothy-
Helen (cutting him off): As he should be. None of us have visited Uncle Leo in years!
Cynthia: I have an excuse! I was abroad!
Tom: Oh, Cynthia, you doll, I’m sure it was perfectly planned that our dear, sweet Uncle fell ill and died whilst your travels ended. You came running when you heard he left you some cash.
Cynthia: Oh, you think you’re so clever, Thomas. I’m sure you’re going to just give away your legacy.
Tom: Of course! It’s all going to the “Buy-Tom-a-Beach-House” fund for starving African babies.
Cynthia (yawning): Oh, ha ha. I’m going upstairs. I do wish this place wasn’t so terribly understaffed, Mr. Fleming.
Fleming: Well, Ms. Meggs is the only staff member, and she’s off visiting her sister who fell ill.
Helen: Oh, Ms. Meggs, I do miss her.
Cynthia (distracted): Oh, yes yes, Ms. Meggs, Ms. Meggs. I’m rather glad I brought Susie along, though. Come along, Tom.
Tom (sarcastically): Oh, my cousin, I would follow you anywhere! (They exit stage right)
Fleming: Well, aren’t they a pair?
Helen: An awful pair, indeed.
Fleming: Well, I’d best feed Mr. Timothy-he’s a very expensive cat, you know. (He exits stage left)
Greg: It’s just us now, I see.
Helen: I’ve been meaning to ask you. What are you doing here? I know about your little detective company. What’s this about?
Greg: I seem to be caught. You do realize how valuable Mr. Timothy is, don’t you?
Helen: I do, but why is that important?
Greg: People have been killed for less than 50,000 dollars, Helen. Mr. Fleming hired me to protect that precious cat’s hide. (Tom enters stage left with a Popsicle)
Tom: Aloha, senor, senorita.
Helen (confused): What happened with Cynthia? Where’d you get that Popsicle?
Tom: Her? Oh, I left her. Too much whining. Got the Popsicle out of the freezer. I just wanted to interrupt this very important almost-becoming-flirty dialogue with some even more important news.
Greg: That news would be… (Tom swallows the entire Popsicle.)
Tom: Mr. Timothy’s name would shorten to Mr. T. Just thought I should mention it. (Tom exits stage right)
Helen: That Tom. He never grew up.
Greg: Well, I’d better get to my job. (He winks at Helen. The two exit right. Susie enters left, sneakily, and peers around, then beckons to someone offstage. Bill enters)
Susie: I think you’re safe. Everyone’s upstairs: I’d better get there soon.
Bill: That Cynthia. She couldn’t tie her own shoes. (Susie giggles, but catches herself and straightens her blouse)
Susie: Well, she’s not so bad.
Bill: It sure was brave o’ you to sneak me in de basement, my dear.
Susie: It was nothing. Just don’t tell anyone it was me.
Bill: Oh, sure.
Susie: It was even braver of you to come back, knowing the family hates you. You lost your inheritance!
Bill: I had to come back, but not for the inheritance. Just to prove that I care about everyone and I miss them.
Susie: Oh, how noble! (Knocking is heard stage left. Susie looks around, panicked. She looks to Bill for support, eyes wide and mouth agape.)
Bill: Answer it! Just don’t let anyone see me!
Susie: Quick! Behind the drapes!
Bill: Yes, excellent plan! (Bill dashes behind the drapes, concealing himself. His feet are shown, but he hides them with a broom. Susie answers the door, Ms. Meggs comes onstage. She bows to Susie and removes her soaking wet coat and places her two suitcases on the ground next to the drapes, further concealing Bill’s feets.)
Meggs: Oh, what an awful night. An awful, awful, awful night.
Susie: Yes, indeed, ma’am. Thunderous and lightening-ous.
Meggs (laughing): Oh, how clever of you. Who are you and what is your business here?
Susie: I’m Susie, Miss Cynthia’s maid.
Meggs: Cynthia Meadows, yes, the name is quite familiar. I haven’t seen her, or any of the other children, in nearly 15 years!
Susie: So, are you Ms. Meggs?
Meggs: Oh, how rude of me. Yes, I’m Ms. Meggs.
Susie: I thought Mr. Fleming said you sister was ill and you were with her and couldn’t be here.
Meggs: Oh, Hazel, yes, that dearie-dearie-dear. She wasn’t ill at all! (Annoyed) The wire must’ve been sent by a practical joker! And I was needed so badly by you and my precious Adeline! How I’d like to get my hands on him! I’d ring his neck and hang his head as a trophy in my room.
Susie: That’s… violent.
Cynthia (offstage, in sing-song-manner): Suuusaaana, oh SUSAAAAAAAANNA!
Susie: That’s Ms. Cynthia. I best tend to her. (Susie looks at the drapes, hoping Bill understands. She begins yelling to make sure he knows) I’M LEAVING TO TEND TO MS. CYNTHIA NOW!
Meggs (slightly offended): My, dear, I’m not that old. Go on, I can take care of myself.
(Susie, embarrassed, bows slightly and exits stage right. Ms. Meggs removes her hat and places it on the rack next to her coat. She picks up her suitcase and notices the broom behind the drapes. Puzzled, she begins to think aloud.)
That’s odd. Brooms shouldn’t be behind drapes.
(Bill, scared, shifts around, revealing his feets. Ms. Meggs, curious, looks behind the draperies, and opens her mouth wide. Bill steps out from behind the curtains, head down in shame. Ms. Meggs, dramatically, while pointing at Bill, exclaims…)
BILL LAYDON, THE FAMILY BLACK SHEEP!
(Dramatic music – bum bum buuuum! – plays as Bill Laydon bows slightly.)
Bill: Yes, it is I.
Meggs: What on Earth are you doing here? I thought you were disowned! Forgotten! Away on random travels!
Bill: Well, I certainly haven’t been forgotten…
Meggs (with laughter): Well, how nice of you to join! (She hugs him, forgivingly.) Have you seen everyone else?
Bill: You found me behind a curtain. What do you think?
Meggs (continuing laughter): I see, well, let’s go join them. Oh, but first, I’d best get something out of my room.
Bill: What do you need?
Meggs: After your uncle’s death, I felt quite alone, so I ordered a license for a gun.
Bill: My, Ms. Meggs! You certainly aren’t the quiet old lady I thought you had become! (Ms. Meggs smiles devilishly and takes Bill’s arm)
Meggs: Let us be off! (They exit stage right. Clocks chime 11. Storm sounds are made. Helen and Greg enter stage right.)
Helen: (makes grunting noises) Mr. Fleming insists we perform that awful séance again. That just creeps me out.
Greg: Understandable. I think I’d best leave Mr. Timothy in his box by the stove, shouldn’t I?
Helen: I suppose. Will he wander?
Greg: No, Mr. Fleming says Mr. Timothy only stays in the kitchen and he used to go in the summerhouse.
Helen: Yes, I heard it burned down. Was Mr. Timothy hurt?
Greg: When I asked Mr. Fleming about it, he didn’t say anything. But he did chuckle a bit to himself…
Helen: Well, that’s weird. (Gunshots and screams are heard offstage. Greg runs off right, head turned toward the noise. Cynthia, Tom, and Susie appear from behind the curtain-center.) What happened?
Cynthia (out of breath): I heard gunshots and freaked out! Luckily, Tom and Susie were there to keep me from passing out! Ooh, I do wish I brought along some of my mineral water. I’m parched.
Tom (excited): Yeah, it was so weird! We were upstairs, and from the room next to ours, there were gunshots! Some girl screamed, and there were two “clunks” as people hit the ground!
Helen: Greg’s up there now!
Tom (sarcastically): Wow! How brave! Run in the face of danger, it is a sign of nobility! (Mr. Fleming appears from stage right, grabbing onto Bill’s right arm.)
Cynthia: William??!
Helen: Bill!
Tom (who was looking the opposite direction, turning to face Mr. Fleming and Bill): Huh?
Cynthia: William Layton. Our long-lost-cousin. Don’t you ever pay attention?
Tom (sadly): Not since I got off the drugs.
Cynthia: Cut it out. Be serious. What happened, Mr. Fleming?
Fleming: When I heard the gunshots, I rushed to the room where I heard them. I found Ms. Meggs on the floor, and Bill was passed out.
Bill: I didn’t do anything.
Cynthia: I thought Ms. Meggs was with her sister.
Tom: Who cares?! There’s a dead old bat on the floor!
Susie: How do you know she’s dead? (Greg enters right)
Greg: He’s right! She’s dead!
Helen: How horrible!
Cynthia: Dreadful!
Bill: Awful!
Tom (speaking quickly and precisely): Depressing! Alarming! Shocking! Atrocious! Pick your interjection!
Cynthia: Tom! Please! Bill, did you kill her?
Bill: Me? Of course not! There’s no motive, no nothing!
Cynthia: Why were you with her? Why are you here?
Tom: Yeah! Why were you with her? Why are you here?
Bill: I came to tell you all—
Susie (cutting him off): He came to tell you all—.
Bill (cutting her off): I came to tell you all that I still love all of you and don’t care about Uncle Leo’s money and I’m not afraid!
Susie: Oh, how noble! (Susie latches on to Bill)
Cynthia: Oh, Susana!
Tom (slaps his knee and begins playing imaginary banjo and singing): Oh, Susana, don’t you cry for me, ‘cuz I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee! (Helen totally slaps Tom upside the head.)
Cynthia (after a short, awkward pause): (cough) Oh, Susana! I don’t believe this!
Susie: Believe it!
Tom: NARUTOOOO! (Helen slaps him again)
Susie: I have a private life! I’ve known Bill Layton for quite some time, and you know what? You can forget your stuck-up little attitude and find yourself a new maid, because IIIII QUIT! (Tom applauds, Susie makes small bow)
Greg: Enough! We’d best call the police!
Tom: Yeah, the fuzz’ll save us!
Helen: Oh, Ms. Meggs! I can’t understand why anyone would want to kill her!
Greg: I can’t understand why she was home in the first place!
Bill: Well, when she came through the door, she said that she never got a telegram from her sister, and didn’t know where it came from.
Susie: Yeah, I remember that. Hazel wasn’t sick at all!
Greg: Why were you with her, Bill?
Bill: Well, Ms. Meggs was crazy-paranoid and had a gun and wanted to get it. Then we went to her room, and someone hit me on the back of the head and I fell over unconscious. Then, I guess Ms. Meggs got shot by her own gun.
Greg: Yeah, you do have a pretty nasty looking bruise on the back of your head.
Susie: Oh, you poor thing! How noble!
Tom (mocking): How noble!
Bill: That’s the truth, Greg. What do we do from here?
Fleming: Well, things don’t look too good for you, Bill. First of all, you weren’t invited here anyway and have a motive for killing as you get no money in the will. But Ms. Meggs didn’t share in the will, so that doesn’t make much sense. I guess you’re kind of safe there. But you were found next to our poor victim.
Susie: Bill did not kill Ms. Meggs.
Bill: I did not kill Ms. Meggs. (Susie looks alluringly at Bill, eyes a-flutter)
Greg: Did Ms. Meggs say anything else besides the fact her sister was not ill? Anything at all?
Bill: Well…
Greg: Well what?
Susie: She mentioned something about Adeline and how she was needed by Adeline.
Cynthia: Who’s Adeline?
Tom (Baha Men style): Yeah, who? Who? Who?
Helen: Tom, for real, be serious.
Tom: Sorry Helen, that’s just not my thing. (Helen sighs and shrugs)
Greg: Well, I’m going to check upstairs in Ms. Megg’s room for anything suspicious. (Greg leaves stage right)
Helen: Wait for me! I want to help! (She chases after him)
Cynthia: I don’t understand. Who’s Adeline?
Tom: Oh, I don’t know, probably some creepy old lady-type friend who Ms. Meggs has over every Tuesday for some poker and potato chips. (Cynthia gives Tom “shut up” look and then looks at Susie)
Cynthia: Susana, for real, who do you think Adeline is?
Susie: I don’t know. It’s not Ms. Megg’s sister: that’s Hazel. Do you think… no, it’s impossible…
Bill: What?
Susie: Well… I snuck you in here, right, Bill? Well… what if… someone… else… (Susie’s takes deep breaths as her speaking slows)
Cynthia: Wait, are you saying someone else could be here?! Hiding?! Amongst us?!
Fleming: I assure you, that’s quite impossible.
Susie: But what if…
Fleming: No. I assure you; no one can get into this house without my knowledge or help from the inside.
Bill: Well, what if someone is helping from the inside?
Cynthia (defensively): What, are you accusing me? Is that what you’re doing, William? I knew it! I knew it! You hate me, you hate me; you’re getting back at me for all my years of beating you in croquet!
Tom: Holy inferiority complex, Cynthia! Man, you’re really worked up about this. That’s kinda funny. I thought you were some huge underwater basket-weaving fan.
Bill: Cynthia, I was not accusing you.
Tom: Yeah, he was not accusing you.
Cynthia: Well, you wouldn’t accuse your precious Susie, would you? No. And Tom, everyone knows he can’t think!
Tom: I resent that.
Cynthia: And… Mr. Fleming… (A look of realization appears on Cynthia’s face. Helen and Greg enter from behind curtain-center.)
Helen: Look at what Greg and I found!
Tom: A saucer! Does it fly? (Mr. Fleming looks around suspiciously, then sneaks out stage left.)
Greg: No, it’s a saucer for milk. For a cat. Look, there’s still a bit of milk on the side. We found it in Ms. Megg’s room, next to her corpse.
Helen: I have a few questions for Mr. Fleming… where did he go? (Greg starts talking to Tom, Bill, and Susie about Mr. Fleming’s crime in a very low whisper. Focus on Cynthia and Helen.)
Cynthia: Why do you need to ask him questions?
Helen: I think… (her voice lowers to a whisper) I think Mr. Fleming killed Ms. Meggs, and Mr. Timothy! (Cynthia almost screams, but Helen covers her mouth) Greg and I figure Mr. Fleming set the summerhouse on fire then sent Ms. Meggs away, but when she came back, he killed her! When I looked at Mr. Timothy, I realized it wasn’t a “Mr.”! (Cynthia gasps, and begins fanning herself with her hand. Greg and Tom join them, center-stage.)
Cynthia (in regular voice): Where is Mr. Fleming?
Tom: I think I saw him sneakily slip out the back door! Let’s go get him!
Greg: Here, here! (They all run off stage left. Mr. Fleming enters stage right, scared. Tom, Cynthia, Helen, and Greg all enter stage right, out of breath.)
Helen (slightly panting): We’ve got you now, you fiend!
Cynthia: Yeah! We know you killed Ms. Meggs!
Fleming: Me? That’s impossible, for you see… (he turns his back to the audience, puts on an alien mask, and turns back to them) I am an alien! (Mr. Fleming makes strange “ooh”s and “aah”s to scare the four people away)
Tom: PLOT TWIST! (Bill takes a step toward the alien.)
Bill: I’m not afraid of you!
Fleming: Keep back! I’ll sick my alien-type animals on you!
Bill: I’m going to get you!
Susie: Oh, how noble! (Susie is mocked by Tom. Mr. Fleming pulls out an alien-looking ray gun and shoots it at Bill. Bill ducks and flings himself at Fleming, pushing him to the ground. Fleming’s mask comes off, revealing his human face once again)
Helen: That’s no alien! Tom, Bill, grab him! Take him to the cupboard under the stairs! I’ll call the cops!
Tom: Well, that was totally anticlimactic… let’s go, partna’. Bill, you can stay here with your little girlfriend. (Tom winks and exits with Fleming in his arms stage right. Susie clings onto Bill)
Susie: That was the bravest thing I ever saw. I was so scared. (Susie looks longingly into Bill’s eyes)
Bill: Don’t mention it.
Cynthia: You aren’t hurt, are you? I suppose I owe you an apology, William. You saved us all.
Bill: It’s okay; it wasn’t a real ray gun, anyway.
Helen: It’s a shame you were written out of Uncle’s will. Wait, I’ve got it… you can have Mr. Timothy’s share!
Cynthia: That’s fine with me!
Bill: No, really, I couldn’t take the money… (Tom appears from behind the curtain-center)
Tom: I’ll take it!
Cynthia: Thomas, this is William’s time to shine. Is Mr. Fleming taken care of?
Tom: He won’t be getting out of THAT closet anytime soon. Not that he’d want to, though.
Cynthia: Well, I knew Mr. Fleming was behind that whole murder. I figured it out all by myself. But I’m still confused. Who’s Adeline?
Helen: It’s Mrs. Megg’s cat; the one Mr. Fleming told us was Mr. Timothy.
Greg: Well, that’s another mystery solved. I’ll see you guys later.
Cynthia: Toodles, Gregory! (Greg hugs Cynthia, then Helen, shakes hands with Tom and Bill, and waves goodbye to Susie, then exits right. Curtain closes.)
IT’S THE END!
