Roger (R )– an honest theatre director

Sarah (S) – a very bad but hopeful actress

Marjory (M)- the theatre manager

2 Angels (A1 and A2)

Roger is sitting in a directors chair with a paper and pen

Enter Sarah.

R: Name please, and part you’re auditioning for.

S: Sarah Collins, I’m auditioning for the part of the daughter.

R: Okay. Do it from the set audition piece, both speech and song. Start when you’re ready.

S: (Composes herself, then starts) Nora parts her lips slightly and brings her teeth together as she gazes up at the moon……

R: Don’t be silly dear. Your supposed to memorise the speaking parts, not the whole script, actions and all. Now, start again.

S: (Looking flustered) Sorry. (she composes herself again and speaks with over-dramatic enthusiasm) Oh, what a glorious night. She casts off her cloak and clasped her hands tightly. Moon, Moon, what mysteries do you hold she continued lovingly gazing..

R: Stop, Stop, PLEASE! Do you think we can move on to the song…

S: Right. (She takes a deep breath launches operatic-style in a loud, off-key tone) Oh sweet mysteries of life at last I’ve found you…

R: (holding his ears and looking very pained) That’s enough! Listen sweetie, dear. Have you considered a tonsilectomy? Please don’t phone me, and I won’t be calling you.

Sarah flounces off.

Enter Marjory, she stands by Roger.

M: Well Roger, how’s it going. I see the Collins girl just leaving. She didn’t look too happy. I hope you treated her well like I asked you to. Her daddy is one of our largest sponsors, we can’t afford to upset them. Her father is expecting her to have a part in the play.

R: What! You must be joking. In all honesty she hasn’t an ounce of talent. I wouldn’t entertain the idea.

M: What’s honesty got to do with it? We need sponsors like her father if we are going to survive. It’s our job to humour them, tickle their egos, that way they keep paying. They have a very influential circle of friends who would be only too happy to be involved with this theatre if they thought we would accept members of their families in our productions.

R: I’ve told you before, I’m a professional. I am not interested in using talentless, spoilt brats of rich parents, just to flatter them amd milk them of their money. I have a reputation to uphold.

M: Pouf to your reputation! Since you’ve been here, our rofits have plummeted. In fact, we have no profits to fall back on. You will just have to compromise your standards if you want to stay.

R: My standards can not be compromised, and don’t threasten me, I have a signed contract that holds good until the end of this year. Anyway, the lack of profits have nothing to do with me. I’ve done a good job for this theatre, and you know it. The shows have been of a high quality and the audience numbers good. It’s you and that weak-willed husband of yours who have been milking this place of the profits. You think I don’t know but I do. How would you like the board to find out what you’ve been up to?

M: They’d never believe you. We’ve c0overed our tracks well, and they’d listen to me before you. I’ll be consulting with the board tonight. You’re finished. I’ll blacken your name so you‘ll not find work again. By the way, about that contract, I suggest you read the fineprint. You’ll find it’s not worth the paper it’s written on. Goodbye Roger.

There is a bed and bedside table on stage. A drink of water is on the top of the table. Enter roger. He sits on the edge of the bed, and puts his head in his hands.

R: What a dreadful day! (He rummages through the drawer of the bedside table and produces two pill bottles) There you are my little beauties, pills to make me feel normal and take away my worries, and pills to help me sleep. If I swallowed the whole lot and died, they’d be sorry. I’d make them feel really guilty. They’d be forced to say "That man died because he was too honest". Who’d have the last laugh then, eh? I’ve put up with hell from that place, tried my best, and this is how they repay me. What am I going to do? My career’s in tatters, my reputation shot to pieces. Life is cruel… and nobody cares…nobody…

(he swallows some pills and falls asleep, still clutching the bottle)

Enter two angels

A1: Look at him, what a mess! (reaches over and takes the pills from him) He won’t be needing these by the time we’ve finished with him

A2: Roger! Wake up. You call yourself a Christian, but we haven’t even heard you pray. These pills won’t help you, only God can. You say nobody cares about you, but you really need to seek people out, then you’ll realise the world isn’t such a bad place.

A1: Aren’t people funny! The very time they need God to help them is the very time they turn away from Him. Someone once described it to me. They said they get so deep into the problem that they can’t muster any strength to do anything constructive to help themselves.

A2: Yes, I understand, but right now, our job is to get Roger to pray and allow god to work in his life .Roger, wake up. Stop wallowing in self-depression and let God heklp you. Then you’ll see justice prevail.

The angels exit.

Roger wakes up and sits up in bed

R: Heavens, it’s morning already! What a night. Strange, after yesterdays trauma I feel quite peaceful. (He stretches) I have a good mind to phone the church and make an appointment with Reverend brown, sort out my life. Funny, I’ve never felt like that before. Now for breakfast. (he exits, yawning)