A lesson in “for such a time as this.”
Cast:
DILLY – a southern fried chicken who doesn’t always get things straight
MISS STARR – the teacher who sets him straight
Props:
None
(MISS STARR begins on stage when DILLY enters.)
DILLY: Good morning, Miss Starr.
MISS STARR: Hi, Dilly. How are you doing?
DILLY: Why, I’m finer than frog hair, but it has been a most harrowing day.
MISS STARR: Oh my. What happened?
DILLY: Well, I was crossing the road…
MISS STARR: To get to the other side?
DILLY: (annoyed) No. I was going to meet Flora to go see a movie.
MISS STARR: A chick flick?
DILLY: You’re about as funny as a duck on a cold winter’s morning.
MISS STARR: Sorry. Go on.
DILLY: As I was saying, I went to get Flora, and I thought she had laid an egg – a huge, black egg.
MISS STARR: Oh my. Tell me, does it hurt to lay an egg?
DILLY: It’s a bit like blowing a potato…
MISS STARR: That doesn’t sound so bad.
DILLY: Out of your nose.
MISS STARR: Ouch!
DILLY: Ouch, indeed. So you can just imagine how much it would hurt to lay an egg the size of a bowling ball.
MISS STARR: That big? Is Flora okay?
DILLY: Oh, she’s finer that a dog hair split three ways. Turns out that it really was a bowling ball.
MISS STARR: That’s good, but why was there a bowling ball in the chicken coop?
DILLY: I reckon one of them good-for-nothing roosters left it there.
MISS STARR: What did you do with it?
DILLY: Well, it was a rental, so Flora and I resolved to return it to the bowling alley.
MISS STARR: That was very thoughtful of you.
DILLY: I am nothing if not thoughtful and understanding. Besides, I knew that sluggard would never to it himself.
MISS STARR: Regardless, it was very nice of you.
DILLY: It was more than nice; it was downright heroic.
MISS STARR: Heroic? How so?
DILLY: Well, I only weigh six pounds soaking wet.
MISS STARR: (silently stares incredulously)
DILLY: Okay, eight pounds. The point being, that I weigh significantly less than that bowling ball.
MISS STARR: What did you do?
DILLY: We decided to roll it.
MISS STARR: That was clever.
DILLY: We thought so, too. ‘Til we go to the hill.
MISS STARR: Oh no! What happened?
DILLY: Well, there were ten people standing at the bottom of the hill lined up just like bowling pins.
MISS STARR: Did you make a strike?
DILLY: Fortunately, we are abysmal bowlers, and it was a gutter ball.
MISS STARR: Phew!
DILLY: Don’t “phew” yet. The ball rolled up the curb and flew into the air.
MISS STARR: (flinching) And?
DILLY: Landed in the mud.
MISS STARR: That’s good.
DILLY: Not for the ten people at the bottom of the hill.
MISS STARR: Oh dear.
DILLY: They had so much mud on them that they looked like pigs that had been wallerin’ in the mud.
MISS STARR: I bet they were mad.
DILLY: They were madder than a pack of wild dogs on a three-legged cat, so we hightailed it outta there with that bowling ball.
MISS STARR: I’m glad you two were all right. Did you finally make it to the bowling alley?
DILLY: Yes, we did, and it took some convincing to get the proprietor to take the ball back.
MISS STARR: Why’s that?
DILLY: He accused us of steeling it. Can you imagine? I told him he was barking up the wrong tree.
MISS STARR: Of course. You’d never steel anything.
DILLY: Well, he finally remembered that it was that cocky little bantam rooster who had that ball, and he let us go.
MISS STARR: Good for you. Did you make it to your movie?
DILLY: We had just enough time to make it, but as we were leaving, we ran into that cocky little bantam. Well, I gave him a piece of my mind, when he explained that he’d gotten a phone call last night that his mamma had taken ill. He was so distraught that he left the alley with the ball.
MISS STARR: Did you see if you could help him?
DILLY: No, we were going to be late to our movie.
MISS STARR: Dilly! Who knows whether you had not come to the bowling alley for such a time as this?
DILLY: Whatever do you mean?
MISS STARR: Don’t you see that God got you exactly where He wanted you, so you could comfort and help that bantam and his mom?
DILLY: Well, tie me to an anthill and put jam in my ears! I do reckon you are correct, Miss Starr. I am much obliged. I will go now and comfort that young rooster.
MISS STARR: And don’t forget his mom. Maybe you can bring her some chicken soup. (realizes what she just said)
DILLY: That is just sick!
MISS STARR: Sorry. I forgot who I was talking to.
DILLY: That’s okay. Every dog should have a few fleas. (growing excitement) I could make his mamma a nice corn chowder and a loaf of 7-grain bread. Oh, and I have the loveliest dishes I could use. And I could make her some sweet tea. And… And… I need to bet busy. (quickly exits)
MISS STARR: (stares at stage surprised at Dilly’s sudden departure)
DILLY: (reappears) I almost forget – bye, y’all! (exits)
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