HALLO’SCENE #3: “F.R.I.G.H.T.”
Is your car out of warranty? You may never need to pay for a car repair ever again!…
Just kidding… It’s time for Episode Three of your “Hallo’scenes: Short Sketches for All Hallow’s Eve.” Change of pace this time out — something to scare the wits out of any loyal union member. And maybe you…?
“F.R.I.G.H.T.”
CURTAIN UP:
The set is a UNION MEETING HALL, but not the kind you might think; at a long table screaming vociferously at each other are: FRANKENSTEIN, DRACULA, THE WOLFMAN, THE MUMMY, JACK THE RIPPER, and various other GHOULS AND GOBLINS.
Trying to regain order in the proceedings, is the disembodied voice of THE INVISIBLE MAN.
INVISIBLE MAN: Quiet! Quiet, all of you!
Things calm down a little.
INVISIBLE MAN: (CONTINUING) There. Now, back to the issues. The issue is a strike vote for the Federated Reserve of International Ghouls, Horrors and Terrors, or F.R.I.G.H.T. Now, before we take a strike vote again for the hundredth time, we need to better articulate out demands! Dracula?
DRACULA: I feel that we should get a bite out of foreign residuals.
There is a chorus of agreement.
INVISIBLE MAN: Jack the Ripper?
JACK: (SLAVERING) I just want my slice of Pay TV like everybody else!
Again, cheers.
INVISIBLE MAN: Wolfman?
WOLFMAN: (JUMPS ONTO THE TABLE ON ALL FOURS) I want the A.S.P.C.A. to handle all my contracts!
The meeting again erupts into pandemonium.
INVISIBLE MAN: Quiet! Frankenstein? We haven’t heard from you.
Frankenstein rises slowly, lumbering to his feet. He begins in a low, ominous monotone.
Frankenstein: As you all know, in my heart, I’m an American —
DRACULA: Yes, yes, and your arms are French, and your legs are Bavarian —
JACK: — And your brain is Polish. Get to the point!
FRANKENSTEIN: That was just what I was getting at — I think the United Nations should have jurisdiction over me!
Frank is hooted down by the group. He sits.
INVISIBLE MAN: Listen, you goons! If we don’t come to some sort of agreement on our demands, then I fear the worst — we are going to go on being used, bilked and abused by the horror movie producers for the entire remaining term of our existing contract…!
WOLFMAN: And how long is that exactly?
INVISIBLE MAN: (SOLEMNLY) Eternity.
JACK: (DISAPPOINTED) That long, huh.
INVISIBLE MAN: (PLEADING) I had so hoped that we could come to agreement tonight. Once we win a good contract, I was going to retire, even go into politics. Who knows, maybe run for President.
FRANKENSTEIN: (PUZZLED) An invisible president?
DRACULA: (DRYLY) Wouldn’t be the first.
Quietly, the Mummy rises and gestures to his gauzy wrappings; the group tries to interpret for the silent figure.
DRACULA: What is it, Mummy?
The Mummy begins a series of gestures, a la charades.
JACK: Sounds like?
WOLFMAN: How many words — ?
FRANKENSTEIN: Is it a book? A movie?
The Mummy gestures pointedly to his wrappings.
DRACULA: (PUZZLED) You’re running out of gauze? You need more gauze?
Mummy makes a sign of “close but not quite.”
JACK (A FLASH OF INSPIRATION) You want to wrap things up??
The Mummy gestures “on the nose.” There is applause and groans.
DRACULA: Mummy’s right! We need to nail down a new contract; why, I’m down to a few measly pints of blood!
WOLFMAN: It’s almost a full moon — !
There are other grunts of agreement — Frankenstein rises, a scowl of disapproval on his face.
FRANKENSTEIN: This is monstrous! You are all talking defeat! No one knows better than I that we’ve got to pull together if we’re going to win a decent contract! (THERE ARE GROANS) Alright, we can’t just think of ourselves; what about all those ghastly, hairy creatures that come after us, huh?
Frankenstein turns to Dracula accusingly.
FRANKENSTEIN: Dracula? You’ve got it pretty good now. But remember when you were just another illegal immigrant from Transylvania?
DRACULA: (RESISTING) Those cutthroat producers haven’t budged an inch! I mean, you can’t get blood out of a turnip, can you?
FRANKENSTEIN: (INCENSED) What kind of defeatist talk is that? Of course you can, if you set your mind to it. (TURNS TO WOLFMAN) And you, Wolfman, remember those Abbott and Costello years? What about those who follow in your pawprints?
WOLFMAN: (CHANGE OF HEART) Maybe Frank’s right — the wages I get aren’t fit for a dog!
The whole mood of the union hall begins to change.
DRACULA: After all, we all deserve our pound of flesh and blood — !
JACK: We’re entitled to a bigger cut — !
INVISIBLE MAN: That’s the spirit — !
And together, they all rise, face the Audience, march in place and begin to SING —
(TO THE TUNE OF THE GARMENT WORKERS ANTHEM)
“BETTER WATCH OUT FOR THE UNION LABEL, WHEN WE ARE SCARING YOU OUT OF YOUR WITS.
YOU KNOW THAT SOMEWHERE, OUR GHOULS ARE WORKING, OUR GOBLINS LURKING, TO SCARE THE PANTS…RIGHT OFF OF YOU…
WE WORK HARD, BUT WHO’S COMPLAINING, AS LONG AS PEOPLE ARE SHIVERING, WE SAY,
BETTER WATCH OUT FOR THE UNION LABEL. IT SAYS, WE’RE PROUD WE COULD SCARE YOU PANT-LESS IN THE U.S.A.!!”
And, on cue, all of their pants drop revealing brightly — colored striped and polka-dotted undershorts.
CURTAIN.
