Doctor Doctor/Duke East 2007 Term II

This edition of Doctor, Doctor was brought to you by Charlie Williams and Caro Ragolta, and is considered by the people who matter to be the best Doctor, Doctor ever. It was performed with scripts due to the reluctance of the actors to learn their lines.

Styles: Normal, Ye Olden Times, Text-Speak, Suburban Rap Culture, Pirates v. Ninjas, Disney Musical (not performed), ADF, Harry Potter, TiPster

CAST Child: Sara Broussard

Mother: Will Nance

Father: Thor Tobiassen

Doctor: Sass Williamson

Mortician: Charley Snyder

Director: Caro Ragolta

Ninja/Script Girl: Charlie Williams

"Understudy": Kevin Kimball

Hair & Makeup: Jessica Stewart, JJ Haines, Matt Goldberg, James Sadler, Mia Hassoun, Emily Sharp, Sarah Lowe, Maddie Scott, Stacy Lanier, Anna Rowe Dennis

CHILD: Mother, I have a pain!

MOTHER: A pain? Where?

C: Here!

M: Here?

C: No, here!

M: Here?

C: No, here!

M: I’ll call your father.

FATHER: Yes, dear?

C: I have a pain!

M: She has a pain!

F: A pain? Where?

C: Here!

F: Here?

C: No, here!

F: Here?

C: No, here!

F: I’ll call the doctor.

DOCTOR: Did someone call for a doctor?

C: I have a pain!

M: She has a pain!

F: She has a pain!

D: A pain? Where?

C: Here!

D: Here?

C: ACK! *dies*

M: Do you have a diagnosis?

D: She’s dead.

F: But how?

D: It could be exhaustion, flu, or poison.

M: Then what do we do?

D: I’ll call the mortuary.

MORTICIAN: Mort’s Mortuary, you hack ‘em, we pack ‘em!

DIRECTOR: Cut! Cut! That was horrid! And what is this! You call yourselves actors? You were supposed to be off book a week ago! Let's do it again, but it needs to be…darker, more...Ye Olden Times style. Do it right! I want to be able to smell the sewage! Hair! Makeup!

HAIR & MAKEUP: *hit with pillows*

C: Mummy! I haveth a pain!

M: A pain? Where doth such pain be-eth?

C: Here-eth!

M: Here-eth?

C: Nay, here-eth!

M: Here-eth?

C: Nay, here-eth!

M: I shalt summon thine father.

F: Thou hath summoned me?

C: Forsooth, I haveth a pain!

M: Alas! She hath a pain!

F: Anon! A pain? Where-eth?

C: Here-eth!

F: Here-eth?

C: Nay, here-eth!

F: Here-eth?

C: Nay, here-eth!

F: I shalt summon the apothecary.

D: Thou hast need for my physic?

C: Alas! I haveth a pain!

M: She hath a pain!

F: She hath a pain!

D: A pain? Where be-eth such pain?

C: Here-eth!

D: Here-eth?

C: And thus, I expire. *dies*

M: Can’t thou proffer a diagnosis?

D: She hath expired!

F: But why?

D: It could be plague, smallpox, or dysentery.

M: Whatsoever shalt we do?

D: I shalt summon the mortician.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, You lose in a duel, we'll grind you into gruel

DIR: Cut! Cut! Our audience is not going to be able to relate to that at all. It needs to be more...modern. Let's see it Text Speak style! Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: Like OMG, IHAP

M: A pain? Where?

C: Ugh. *rolls eyes* Here!

M: Here?

C: NW, here!

M: Here?

C: WTF, it’s right here!

M: I’ll call your DAD.

F: Yes, dear?

C: IHAP!

M: She has a P!

F: A P? Oh! A pain! Where?

C: Here!

F: Here?

C: OMG, here!

F: Here?

C: JK LOL it’s right here!

F: I’ll call the DR.

D: Did someone call for a doctor?

C: OMG, IHAP!

M: She HAP!

F: She has a P!

D: A P? Oh! A pain! Where?

C: Like, here!

D: Here?

C: TTFN! *dies*

M: So, like, what’s up?

D: She’s dead!

F: WTF! How?

D: It could be thumb exhaustion, epilepsy, or foul play from her BFF Jill.

M: TISNF!

D: I’ll call the mortuary.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, LOL ROFLCOPTER BBQ we’z here 4 u!

DIR: Cut! Cut! Let me put it in terms you can understand…OMG, that sucked. It needs an edge, it needs…suburban rap culture style! Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: Yo sexy mama, I got shot up!

M: Say what?! Where at?

C: Here-izzle!

M: Fo shizzle?

C: No, foo! Here-izzle!

M: Fo shizzle?

C: No, foo! Here-izzle!

M: I’ll getcha daddy.

F: Sup?

C: I got shot up!

M: She got shot up!

F: Say what?! Where at?

C: Here-izzle!

F: Fo shizzle?

C: No, foo! Here-izzle!

F: Fo shizzle?

C: No, foo! Here-izzle!

F: I’ll call the doc.

D: Yo, foo, what’s up?

C: I got shot up!

M: She got shot up!

F: She got shot up!

D: Fo sho? Where at?

C: Here-izzle!

D: Fo shizzle?

C: I’m out. *dies*

M: So wuzzup?

D: She be gone.

F: Say what?! How?

D: It could be playa hata syndrome, do-rag suffocation, or death by posing. I’ll call the mortuary.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, You get cut up, we’ll pick you up!

DIR: Cut! Cut! Where was the action?! Let's see it again, pirates vs. ninjas style. Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: Arrrr! Shiver me timbers! I have a pain in me body!

M: What say ye, scurvy dog? Where?

C: Here!

M: Here?

C: Nay, lady, here!

M: Here?

C: Nay, here!

M: I’ll summon the first mate.

F: Ahoy there! Whatcha be needin?

C: I have a pain in me body!

M: She has a pain in her body!

F: A pain? Where?

C: Here!

F: Here?

C: Nay, here!

F: Here?

C: Nay, here!

F: I’ll get ye the cap’n.

D: Avast! Ye summoned me?

C: I have a pain in me body!

M: She has a pain in her body!

F: She has a pain in her body!

D: Yarr! A pain? Where?

C: Here!

D: Here?

C: *sees ninja* I’m off to Davy Jones! *ninja breaks neck*

M: What be the problem, cap’n?

D: She’s off to Davy Jones!

F: Yar! How?

D: It could be scurvy, rum poisoning, or the black spot.

M: *Shudders* The black spot…

D: I’ll call the mortuary from my piratey satellite phone.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, they go to Davy Jones, we’ll take care of the bones.

DIR: Cut! Cut! What WAS that?! WHERE WERE THE NINJAS? It needs...Disney musical style. Ninjas, er, Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING STYLE WAS CUT FROM THE ACTUAL SKIT BECAUSE NEITHER SASS, WILL, NOR THOR COULD SING. THE DIRECTOR'S LINE ABOVE WAS CHANGED TO: "...It needs...sparkle! It needs culture! It needs high brow! It needs...no pants. Let's see it ADFer style. Hair! Makeup!"

C: *to the tune of A whole new world* I have a pain!

M: Shining, shimmering, splendid!

C: A whole new pain! *points*

M: Don’t you dare close your eyes!

C: *Points* A new fantastic sort of pain!

M: Hold your breath it gets better!

C: *points* But when I’m way up here, it’s crystal clear that now I have a whole new pain…

M: I’ll call your father.

F: Yes, princess?

C: *to the tune of Be Our Guest* I have pain!

M: She’s got a pain!

F: What do you mean, she has a pain?

C: It hurts here!

F: Does it hurt here?

C: No, it hurts here!

F: Are you sure here?

C: No, it hurts here!

F: Don’t you worry, I will call the doctor for you!

D: Did someone call for a doctor?

C: *to the tune of I Just Can’t Wait to be King* I think I’ve got a mighty pain!

M: Like no one’s felt before!

F: I’ve never heard a pain like this, just listen to her roar!

D: Thus far a rather uninspiring thing…

C: Oh, I have a really bad pain!

D: Oh, you have a really bad pain?

C: *to the tune of Hi ho…* Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to death I go! *dies*

M: Oh doctor, doctor, what is wrong?

D: She’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

F: But how?

D: It could be poison apple, finger prickage, or really horrific, straight to DVD sequel syndrome.

M: Then what do we do?

D: I’ll call the mortuary.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, Trampled by wildebeest? We’ll prepare your final feast!

DIR: Cut! Cut! That was horrid! Let’s do it more…ADFer style. Hair! Makeup! H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: *dances*

M: What?

C: *dances*

M: Huh?

C: *dances*

M: What are you doing?

C: *dances*

M: I’m calling your father if you don’t open your mouth! Are you prepared to deal with that?

F: Yes, dear?

C: *dances*

M: Your daughter has finally lost it. I have no idea what’s going on.

F: We never should’ve sent her to that godforsaken American Dance Festival!

C: *dances*

F: What?

C: *dances*

F: SPEAK UP!

C: *dances*

F: Fine. I’m calling the doctor…maybe she can open your mouth FOR you!

D: Did someone call for a doctor?

C: *dances*

M: We’re so lost!

F: Help us!

D: Hmmm…

C: *dances*

D: I see…

C: *dies*

M: Doctor! What happened!

D: It’s far too high brow for you. Obviously she was making a powerful commentary on the fragility of life and the thin line between brilliance and hysteria.

F: Huh? So she’s dead?

D: It could be overexposure to pretention, too tight toe shoes, or hypothermia from insufficient clothing.

M: Then what do we do?

D: I’ll call the mortuary.

MORT: Mort’s Mortuary, they might dance, but at least we wear pants!

DIR: Cut! Cut! Our audience will NOT understand that! What it needs is...magic, yes, magic! Let's do it Harry Potter style! Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: Professor McGonagall, I have a pain!

M: A pain, Potter? Where?

C: Here!

M: Here?

C: No, here!

M: Here?

C: No, here!

M: I’ll call the potions master.

F: Yes, Minerva?

C: Snape! I have a pain!

M: He has a pain!

F: Of course you have a pain, Potter. Where?

C: Here!

F: Here?

C: No, here!

F: Here?

C: No, here!

F: I’ll call Dumbledore.

D: Did someone call Dumbledore?

C: I have a pain, Professor!

M: He has a pain!

F: He has a pain…of course.

D: A pain? Where?

C: Here!

D: Here?

C: No! The killing curse! *dies*

M: Albus, what happened?

D: He’s dead.

F: But how?

D: It could be a blast-ended skrewt, Voldemort, or a particularly obvious plothole.

M: Then what do we do?

D: I’ll call the mortuary.

MORT: Voldemort’s Mortuary, They Avada Kedavra, then we’ll have ya!

DIR: Cut! Cut! *shakes head* I don't even know what that was. And you...*grabs Mother*...who ARE you?! When did I hire you! You're FIRED! UNDERSTUDY! Where's the...yes. Ok. And...script girl. Please, just...show them how to do it right.

SCRIPT GIRL: Oh...ok...first page of the last chapter...(Charlie improved something about Voldemort & Harry making sweet, sweet love.)

DIR: Yes, that is how you do Harry Potter. But let's try something simpler. Let's try it...TIPster style. Hair! Makeup!

H & M: *hit with pillows*

C: Mike Sori, Mike Sori, I have a pain!

UNDERSTUDY: That’s completely ridiculous. I have a joke: Why did the plane crash?

C: But I have a pain!

U: No no no, wait, because it was being flown by a loaf of bread.

C: BUT I HAVE A PAIN!

U: Cause like…bread can’t fly planes…

C: MIKE SORI, I AM IN PAIN!

U: It wasn’t Wonderbread or anything…I’ll call Sam.

F: Did someone call for the OSC?

C: I have a pain...but suddenly, I feel better!

U: I have a joke!

F: I really wanna hear it, Mike, just give me a minute. First I have a joke.

C: What?! I have a pain!

F: So these two seals, right, are sitting in a bathtub full of warm Crisco…

C: IT’S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!

F: And the first seal turns to the second seal and says, “Can you pass the soap?”

C: MY MOTHER IS NOT PAYING $3000 TO HEAR YOUR STUPID JOKES!

F: And the second seal goes, what do I look like, a typewriter?

C: Where’s John Birch!!!

F: Fine, I’ll get the RLC.

D: Did someone call for John Birch?

C: Oh, thank God! I am in pain!

U: I have a joke!

F: I’ve got a better joke!

D: Hold on you guys, I really wanna hear these, but first, where does it hurt?

C: Here!

D: *Points to correct place* Here?

C: OH FOR THE LOVE OF LLAMA! *dies*

U: Dude, so, what happened? This is completely ridiculous.

D: She’s dead.

F: TIP does NOT have the resources to deal with that! I am NOT cool with that.

D: It could be falling off a bunk, inappropriate dancing, or fear of Zach induced coronary.

M: Then what do we do?

D: I’ll call Mia.

MORT: Mia’s Mortuary, you find a young writer, we’ll gas her up and light her!

DIR: Cut! Cut! That was perfect! So true to life…

AND, SCENE!

• BOW*