"A real Christmas treat!"-- Cornwall Standard Freeholder

Garfield Andrews and Linda Goranson in the Upper Canada Playhouse production of Bob's Your Elf. 2008.

 

  In the following scene, The Thithelville Thespians are attempting a rehearsal of their Christmas production. They are being aided, unknowingly, by Bob, one of Santa's elves.
   
Gord: So, to continue, the Spirit Of Christmas Past and Ebenezer Scrooge enter. Fiona, will you join me please?
Fiona: Happily.
Gord: Thank you.
(Fiona and Gord move towards the cradle.)
  And we slowly, reverently, and ever so humbly approach the manger.
  (We hear a doorbell.)
Gord: What was that?
Amber: Sounded like a doorbell.
Fiona: I'll get it. (Fiona goes to the painted door on the set and bangs into it.)
Gord: No, Fiona. There's no one…Les? Les?!!
(Les enters.)
Les: Gord?
Gord:

Did I just hear a doorbell?

Les: Yes, you did.
Gord: And why was that?
Les: Well, you're approaching the front door of their lean to and I thought it might be good to have the sound effect of a doorbell.
Gord: Les, it's the year one! Doorbells are still a few years off yet.
Les: Oh.
Gord: Yes.
Les: So should I probably cut the microwave oven then too, huh?
Gord: Microwave oven?
Les: To make popcorn for the wise men.
Gord: Popcorn?
Les: Well, they've come a long way. They're probably hungry.
Gord: Cut it.
Les: Cut it?
Gord: Cut it.
Les: Check. Cut the microwave, people!! (Les exits to the wings.)
Gord: Alright then. So, we approach the manger, slowly, reverently, and humbly, and I begin. Spirit, what child is this?
Fiona: Are you going to say it like that?
Gord: I thought I might, yes.
Fiona: Oh.
Gord: Is there a problem?
Fiona: Not at all.
Gord: You're sure?
Fiona: I shall trust your judgement.
Gord: Thank you.
Fiona: I'm sure it will play eventually.
Gord: Thank you so much. And again. Spirit, what child is this?
Fiona: (Looking at her script.) He is the King Of Kings, Mr. Scrounge.
Gord: Scrooge.
Fiona: What dear?
Gord: It's not Mr. Scrounge. It's Mr. Scrooge.
Fiona: (Looking at her script.) Oh, so it is. Sorry. Someone must have drooled on my script. That's happened a lot lately. Shall we try it again?
Gord: No, let's just say a novena and move on. Here we go. And then Mary says…
Amber: So, are you married, Bob?
Gord: (Looks at his script.) What? Are you married Bob? Where's that?
Amber: No, I was just asking Bob if he was married.
Gord: Amber, we're rehearsing, my darling.
Amber: Oh. I thought you and Fiona were still discussing.
Gord: No, we're done.
Amber: Oh.
Gord: All squared away.
Amber: Sorry.
Gord: Not a problem.
Bob: No, I'm not married.
Amber: Oh? How interesting. I'm not married either. Haven't found the right fella yet. I think they're frightened off because I'm a woman in a position of power.
Bob: You're a librarian.
Amber: Yes.
Bob: With no library.
Amber: Well, that's just temporary. All I need is a building. And a few thousand books. And some index cards.
Gord: Sweet Mother of God.
Amber: Yes?
Gord: I…Could we have your line please?
Amber: Oh. Right. Sorry. He is Jesus.
Gord: Flawless as usual, Amber.
Fiona: Well, that's not fair.
Gord: What's not fair?
Fiona: She's memorized her lines.
Gord: No, Fiona, she's memorized one line. Three words.
Fiona: Teacher's pet.