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Monster Force! Engage! (8-10s)

By Tim Primrose

Mum and Dad are asleep, and something is lurking under the bed Who will battle the things that go bump in the night? Monster Force! Engage! On hand to save your bedroom, capturing Sockmonsters, Fartmonsters and more, nothing could possibly go wrong…right?

Setting(s)

Your bedroom & Monster Force HQ

First produced

June 2016

Genre

Comedy, Fantasy, Action-Adventure

Cast Size

20

Recommended for performers aged

8-10

Running Time

45 minutes

Recommended for audiences aged

5+

Script Extract:

Scene 1: Bedroom

 

 

A children’s bedroom, night.

 

JO is asleep. CHARLIE is under his covers, reading . . . all we see is a figure under a sheet illuminated by a torch from within.

            MUSIC: A few strains of gentle glockenspiel lullaby.

Lights up to discover the above scene.

 

SFX: A thump.

 

JO stirs. Silence.

 

SFX: Creaking.

 

            JO sits up in bed. Silence.

 

                        SFX: Very subtle pitter-patter of scurrying feet.

JO (scared): Hoo!

            She hides under the covers.

 

            Silence. She peeps out . . .

 

            A shadow passes across the stage.

JO (quiet): Ahh! (hides again)

(hushed): Charlie . . .

The figure in the blanket sits up, but returns to reading. JO peeps out of her blanket again.

JO (anxious): Charlie.

            Silence.

 

JO: Charlie!

CHARLIE (emerging): What?! I’m reading.

JO: Can you hear that?

CHARLIE: What? You going “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie”? Yes, Jo, I can hear that, it’s very annoying.

JO: I think . . .

            I think there’s a monster in the room.

CHARLIE: Go back to sleep, Jo. You’ll wake mum and dad.
(goes back under the covers)

JO: But what about the monster? What if it wants to eat my toes?

CHARLIE (emerging): What? Why would a monster want to eat your toes?

JO: What if it’s a toe-eating monster? I‘m quite fond of my toes. They’re my wiggliest bit. I’m scared.

CHARLIE: You’re such a baby. (goes back under cover)

JO: Not a baby. I’m six. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.
I’m too young to be eaten alive by monsters.
There’s so much I haven’t seen. I’ve never been to Venice, for example.
Or run with the bulls at Pamplona. Or . . .

The sock drawer rattles.

JO (anxious): Oooooooooooooh . . .

            Charlie?

            Charlie . . .

            Char-lay!

CHARLIE (ermerging): Wha-t?!

            Pause.

JO: I think it’s in the sock drawer.

CHARLIE: Don’t be ridiculous.

JO: Would you check?

CHARLIE: You check!

JO: I bet you’re scared.

CHARLIE: You’re the one who’s scared!

JO: I’m six. I’m supposed to be scared. That’s what six-year-olds do.

CHARLIE: Fine!

            He gets out of bed. A look of mischief crosses his face.

CHARLIE: But you’d better stay hidden under your sheets. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here.

JO (scared): Ohhh . . .

CHARLIE (approaching drawer): It could be capable of anything!

JO: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiii . . . !

CHARLIE: Okay. Here goes.

            One . . .

            Two . . .

            He opens the drawer.

            Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhh!

JO (hiding): Aaaaaaaaaaaahhh! Don’t eat me! Don’t eat my toes! I don’t want to lose my toes! I’m one of the few human beings on earth who looks really good in sandals! Aaaaaaaaaah!

Silence.

JO: There’s nothing in there, is there?

CHARLIE: Just socks, Jo. Hey, where are all my socks? Must be in the wash . . .

            He goes back to bed.

JO: You’re mean.

CHARLIE: Well, it serves you right.

            (settling): How often do I have to tell you, Jo . . .

There’s no such thing as monsters.

The SOCKMONSTER pops up from behind his bed.

SOCKMONSTER: Ooga-booga!

            CHARLIE screams like a four-year-old and rushes to hide under JO’s covers.

CHARLIE: What is it? What is it?!

JO: I told you! It’s a monster!

CHARLIE: I don’t want to have my toes eaten!

JO: Throw stuff at it!

            CHARLIE’s hand appears from under the covers and hurls a book nowhere near theSOCKMONSTER, which has climbed onto his bed and is sorting through a pile of socks that it has gathered.

SOCKMONSTER: Booga?

JO: Nice shootin’, Tex.

CHARLIE: You’re not helping! What are we going to do?!

                        SFX: Smashing glass.

KRAVADSKI commando-rolls on-stage, in full combat gear and armed to the teeth.

KRAVADSKI (aiming at monster): Freeze, furball.

            SOCKMONSTER runs off.

KRAVADSKI: Bang bang! Bang bang bang!

            Pause.

KRAVADSKI: Missed. Slippery devil, that one.

            Alright, citizens, show yourselves. You’re safe for now.

She prods the cover.

KRAVADSKI: That means you, bed bugs!

            JO and CHARLIE emerge, astonished.

KRAVADSKI (collar-mike): All clear, Cap’n.

                        MUSIC: Military snare tattoo.

            Enter Captain RIO, with WINGNUT, JJ, OBSIDIA and TWITCH in tow, in full monster-hunting gear.

RIO: Area secure, Agent Kravadski?

KRAVADSKI: For now, Cap’n. For now.

RIO: Civilians?

KRAVADSKI: Just Bert and Ernie over here, Cap. (indicates JO and CHARLIE)

RIO: Parental alert?

KRAVADSKI: Negative.

RIO: Alright. Carry on, standard procedure.

KRAVADSKI: With pleasure. (sights along weapon, exits, on guard) Here, monsty, monsty, monsty . . .

RIO: Wingnut.

WINGNUT: Cap?

RIO: Need those readings, stat.

WINGNUT: I’m all over it, Cap.

            WINGNUT scans the room with some kind of beeping device.

RIO: Obsidia. JJ. Perimeter check. And I want full parental lockdown until the target is secured.

JJ: You can count on us, Cap!

OBSIDIA: Let’s just get this over with.

            Both exit.

RIO: Twitch!

TWITCH: Gah! Wha’ . . . ?

            Sorry, Cap’n. Got a bit of a fright there.

RIO: Twitch, look out.

TWITCH: Look out?! Gah! What? Where?! Whatisit?!

RIO: No, Twitch, I want you on look out.

TWITCH: Oh. Yes. Of course. Duh! Ha! Silly me!

            What’s that?! Oh. That’s . . . that’s my shadow. Okay. Ha!

            Okay. Look out.

“Look out! Ahh!” Ha! Right . . .

He has to climb over Jo and Charlie’s bed to stand guard at the door.

TWITCH (casually, in passing): Hi, how you folks doing?  

Silence. JO and CHARLIE stare at RIO, who is grinning at them, arms akimbo.

RIO: Have no fear, citizens. We’ll have this whole circus done and dusted before they even have time to send in the clowns.

TWITCH: I hate clowns.

RIO: So do I, Twitch.

            So do I.

CHARLIE: Who . . . who are you?

RIO: That . . . is a very good question.

She crosses to the drawers and tears them out, scattering the contents everywhere.

WINGNUT scans them.

CHARLIE: Well?!

RIO: What? Oh! Haha! Right, yes, sorry. Rio’s the name. Captain Rio to friends. Maybe we can all go out and get a milkshake sometime, but until then let’s just keep it nice and formal and stick with Rio, shall we?  

            SFX: Breaking glass.

KRAVADSKI enters, commando roll again.

RIO: Kravadski, could you not have come back in through the window that was already broken?

KRAVADSKI: Negative, Cap. Always maintain the element of surprise.      

RIO: Very wise, agent. Very wise.

            JJ and OBSIDIA enter.

 

JJ: All clear, Rio.

RIO: Is the parental unit secure?

OBSIDIA (ominous): Mum and dad have been . . . taken care of.

RIO: Jolly good.

JO: What? What have you done to mummy and daddy?

OBSIDIA (dry): I gassed them.

CHARLIE: What?!

RIO: Just a mild sedative. Standard procedure. Parents tend to . . . uh . . . get in the way slightly during this kind of operation. They tend to . . . uh . . .

TWITCH: Freak out!

RIO: Yes. They do tend to freak out a bit.

WINGNUT: Yes, you see, the tiny adult brain is simply unable to cope with the reality of having a monster loose in the home.

JJ: “Oh my goodness, darling, what on earth is that thing?!”

KRAVADSKI: “Hit it! Hit it with a broom!”

WINGNUT: “Never fear, darling, I shall phone pest control forthwith.”

            They laugh.

RIO: Parents, eh? Who’d have ‘em?

OBSIDIA: Not me. I divorced my parents when I was a baby.

JJ: Dude . . . you’re so dark.

CHARLIE: Who are you people?! What are you doing in our bedroom?! How come you’re all out so late after bedtime?! And what on earth is that thing that just ran away gobbling my favourite Batman socks?!

OBSIDIA: The thing that just ran away gobbling your socks was a Grade 7 Sockmonster . . .

WINGNUT: Not a particularly big one, adolescent judging by the reading on my Paranormascope . . .

JJ: We are out after “bedtime” because we’re working . . .

KRAVADSKI: We’re in your bedroom because this is where the Sockmonster is . . .

RIO: And as for who we are . . .

            They strike a pose.

ALL: Monster Force! Engage!

                        MUSIC: Action fanfare.

            Pause.

CHARLIE + JO: What?

RIO: We’re monster hunters.

JJ: Yeah. We’re your worst nightmare’s worst nightmare.

RIO (pained): JJ . . .

            Stop . . . stop trying to make the slogan thing happen, okay?

JJ: But that was a really good one!

RIO: Just . . . just . . . don’t. We don’t need a tagline. Okay?

CHARLIE: This is ridiculous. You can’t be monster hunters.

JJ: Oh yeah? And why’s that? Because we’re all girls? Is that it, pig? Is that it?

            Nice jim-jams, by the way.

RIO: JJ . . .

            Forgive her. She’s feisty.

JO: You’re just kids. Like us.

KRAVADSKI: Somebody’s gotta do it.

CHARLIE: Okay. Okay. So there’s a great big hairy critter with an appetite for novelty hosiery on the loose somewhere in the house . . . what exactly are you guys gonna do about it?

JJ: Buster, exactly which bit of “monster hunter” is it that you are failing to understand?

                        SFX: A quiet, pulsing beep, increasing in urgency over the following:

WINGNUT: Uh-oh . . . Rio, I’m getting a reading. I think it’s coming back.

RIO: Okay. Formation everybody.

            They go into formation, weapons at the ready.

KRAVADSKI: Don’t worry, kids. It’s pretty simple really. Flush out the nasty, pop two-to-three tranq darts in its hairy be-hind, bag it, tag it, and lock it up back at Monster Force HQ. Bish-bash-bosh.
And if that doesn’t work we’ll blow the house up.

CHARLIE: Blow the house up?!

KRAVADSKI: Yup. Got the foundations wired with a couple of kilos of TNT, should the worst come to the worst. One way or another, this sucker is going down.

Don’t worry, it won’t come to that,
I’m not gonna blow up your home with all of us in it.

(hushed, to RIO): I might have to blow up their home with all of us in it.

CHARLIE: Is she serious?

OBSIDIA: Deadly serious. Kravadski really hates monsters. Especially sockmonsters.

TWITCH: A Grade 12 sockmonster once devoured her entire collection of Dr Who Super-Cozees.

JJ: She’s not been the same since.

WINGNUT: It’s getting closer . . . it’s almost right on top of us . . .

TWITCH: Oh my giddy aunties and uncles . . . I can’t take it . . . !

WINGNUT: It’s almost here . . . !

KRAVADSKI: Okay . . . rock and roll time.

            Everybody readies their weapons.

JO: I just wanna say I think you guys are like super awesome.

RIO: We get that a lot.

            The incessant beeping stops. Tense silence.

WINGNUT: I don’t get it. According to the read-out, it’s . . . it’s . . .

            (dramatic, hushed): It’s in the room with us!

            TWITCH puffs on an inhaler.

RIO: Okay everyone. Tight formation. 360 sweep.

            Everyone bundles together and circles the stage.

 

            The SOCKMONSTER enters, backwards, gobbling socks.

 

            The children and the monster walk backwards toward each other until they are standing back to back (RIO and SOCKMONSTER in direct contact).

RIO: Kravadski?

KRAVADSKI: Cap’n?

RIO: Did you shave this morning?

KRAVADSKI: Yup.

RIO: Hmmm . . .

            All turn slowly . . .

            Pause.

SOCKMONSTER: Ooga-booga?

TWITCH: Sockmonsteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer!

            All hell breaks loose.

 

                        MUSIC: Heroic, triumphant action music.

            [A protracted action scene of monster and hunters charging on, off and about the stage and the performance space in general.

 

Hunters point their weapons and go “bang! bang!” to fire. General shouting, noise, clamour.

 

            SFX: Smashing, breaking, alarms, rumpus.

 

Hunters frequently charge across stage brandishing domestic items as weapons: brooms, whisks, standard lamps . . . anything that comes to hand.

 

The bedroom ends up utterly trashed.]

Eventually, the monster is cornered.

JJ: We’ve got’im! We’ve got’im!

RIO: Tranq him!

KRAVADSKI: Eat sleepy-juice, monster scum!

ALL: Bang! bang! bang!

SOCKMONSTER: Gwaaaaargh! (goes woozy and falls over)

JO: Hurray!

RIO: Excellent work, Monster Force!

            They all high-five.

CHARLIE: What have you done to the place?! You’ve ruined our home!

RIO: Ah yes. Twitch. Commence decontamination procedure.

            TWITCH tickles stuff with a feather duster.

CHARLIE: Who’s going to pay for all the damage?!

RIO: Pay. Yes . . . so . . . Wingnut . . .

WINGNUT (with calculator): Okay, let’s see . . . so that’s one adolescent Grade 7 Sockmonster, basic neutralisation and removal, so . . . factoring in labour, equipment . . . not to mention relative risk compensation (quite low for a Grade 7, don’t worry) and basic de-con post-removal . . . plus VAT . . . that makes . . . uh . . .  Three-hundred-and-twenty-seven pounds and . . . uh . . . nine pennies.

RIO: We take most cards. Cash is fine, too.

            Pause.

CHARLIE: Get out.

RIO: Right you are. We’ll waive the fee this time, I guess.  Just another day at the office. Come on, gang.

            They start to exit, dragging the monster with them.

JJ (to CHARLIE): Why you cheap, ungrateful little piece of . . . ! Guys like you make me wanna be sick!

            (miming a phone): Call me!

RIO: Just remember . . .
Wherever evil hides in shadow; where the inexplicable goes bump in the night; whatever lurks in the closet; what vile dark terror awaits under the bed . . .

You can always count on . . .

Monster Force pose.

            Beat.

ALL: Monster Force! Engage!

                        MUSIC: Action music.

 

                        PROJECTION: “Monster Force! Engage!”

If you are interested in this script, please email James at james@strangetown.org.uk

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