For this one: You must convince your little alien buddy not to give up the return-plans. Matt's note: This one is sourced from Puck's speech to Oberon in Act 3, Scene 2 of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The original text follows this monologue.
NEIGHBOR (any gender, late life)
Weemoe!
Weemoe!
It's okay, you can come out honey. They're gone-- oh they are GONE.
Who's the creature from outer space? It ain't Weemoe. Oh no... cops don't even KNOW about any Weemoe.
Neighbors think I'm hiding something? Call the cops on me? I called the cops on THEM. Well, I didn't CALL the cops, I just... well lemme tell you:
Soooo the cops come to my door and it's all: "There was a report of suspicious activity. Can we come in?" That's when you dove into the drier. Just in time! Nobody saw nothin'. By the way, you can come out.
Wememoe, come ON. Come OUT of there. It ain't comfortable in there, is it? Come on out--
Well anyway: So I'm aaaaall polite and I say, "Officer, I have lived in this neighborhood, thirty two years, I am a well regarded citizen, I have worked for the county corrections for twelve years, I do not have a police record, I do not perform 'suspicious activity' nor do I plan to. And I didn't want to tell y'all myself buuuuuuut... I DID see 'suspicious activity' from the very neighbor who called you."
Then Weemoe! MAN!
See, the neighbor's like this artsy actor type and that's alright, I respect that, but she's usually talking to herself all the time and ONE time I saw the inside of her place: WEEMOE! She's got like these clown and elf and devil masks all over her wall and I ain't judgin' but all I have to say about that is.... CUUUUUKOO!
Right.
So: They knock on her door and she's like in FULL COSTUME and MAKEUP, I guess she's been rehearsing something for herself but the cops don't know she's this "artist." So they start askin' what's up and she starts getting indignant. See I was brought up to be polite but my actor NEIGHBOR starts YELLING at the cops and she's got this weird European accent and WEEMOE: THE COPS BROUGHT HER IN!
They ain't gonna believe anything she says.
I'M the suspicious neighbor? Oh-HO! The cops now suspicion 'bout HER... CUUUUKOO!
So it's all good, but... I'm tellin' you, Weemoe, you GOTTA get your ship up and running SOON cause then you can go back to your planet and EAT... 'cause sooner or later, there ain't gonna be any pets left in this neighborhood and I don't mind the disappearance of those dogs, most of them do number twos on my lawn... but you gotta admit, you can only have so much pet food before things trace back to this basement.
Pet-food. Oh my God, you get it. Pet-FOOD!
Aahahahahaha!
Ohhhh... I just made myself laugh. I AM gonna miss talking with you, Weemoe.
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes. If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage
SOURCE TEXT
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
Forsook his scene and enter'd in a brake
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass's nole I fixed on his head:
Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears
thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all
things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.