Monologue 4 - MARY O - DONNELL
Monologue 4 - MARY O - DONNELL
Monologue 4 - MARY O - DONNELL
Prescribed monologue 4
Play Bombshells
Monologue
From: No one can sing, and dance like me. (page 15)
To: Am | going to be pipped at the post by Angela McTerry? NO, | AM
NOT. (page 17)
Omitting: All lines from ANNOUNCER
Specified scene
From: No one can sing, and dance like me.
To: ANNOUNCER: Thank you, Mary. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
the winner of St Brigid’s Talent Show is — .
Page reference: 15-19
A teenage schoolgirl on stage. As she speaks, she commences dressing in an amateurish ‘cat’
COSTE. Start Monologue
MARY. No one can sing and dance like me. No one in the whole school. I am the Liza Minnelli
of St Brigid’s and nobody can say I’m not. I’ve got a better voice than Angela McTerry. Much
better. Her only claim to fame is that she has breasts bigger than her head, of which I am envious
... not. And I can dance which Angela McTerry cannot do even though she thinks she can. She
has not got the physique. Angela McTerry does not look attractive in a leotard and somebody who
loves her should tell her so. She’s got calves the size of the Soviet Union just like her sister
Theresa McTerry—who’s getting married to Ted ‘The Pot-plant’ Swinbank on Saturday and
thereby introducing the world to the lovely vision of Angela in tangerine chiffon. And she’s got
tickets on herself just because her father’s on Neighbours / EastEnders. Like Neighbours /
EastEnders is a big deal. Neighbours / EastEnders is not a big deal. The talent show is a big deal.
I love the talent show. / love the talent show. So far there’s no one who even comes close. Allison
Stoddard’s one-woman Waiting for Godot was a wank. Janice McElhone’s ‘Islands in the Stream’
didn’t cut it—someone should have told her it’s a duet. Veronica O’Grady’s ‘Abba Medley’ was a
travesty. A travesty. I hope Bj6m and Benny never hear about it. Veronica O’Grady would be
banned from Sweden.
Mr Burbridge said: ‘Mary O’Donnell, the talent show is coming up so you had better get
thinking, young lady.’ Mr Burbridge knows that I am the talent show. The talent show would be
nothing without me. It would be ‘the show ’. The show. Because I am the talent. Okay. Okay.
Here we go. This is your last rehearsal, Mary O’Donnell. Do not stuff it up. Do not stuff it up.
Lights up. Music on. She rips into the final two minutes of D’Shaunnesy’. a showtune not
unlike ‘Macavity the Mystery Cat’ from Cats. complete with brilliantly executed
choreography incorporating every cliché known to musical theatre.
O’Shaunnesy’s a whiskery cat:
He’s called the crooked claw,
For he’s the fearless feline
Who has wicked things in store.
The frazzlement of Interpol,
With savage savoir faire,
He’s the cat who never takes the rap,
With his evil pussy stare.
O’Shaunnesy, O’Shaunnesy,
There’s no one like O’Shaunnesy,
He’s a cunning little kitty of devilish dishonesty.
He’ll prow] your yard and make a mess,
He’|l be up for any dare.
Whenever there’s catastrophe,
O’Shaunnesy, O’Shaunnesy, O’Shaunnesy, O’Shaunnesy—
Music.
Whenever there’s catastrophe,
O’Shaunnesy’s been there!
Okay, okay, you’re ready. You’re ready, and baby, you are going to knock their socks off! No one
can give a song what I can give it. Not Veronica O’Grady. Not Sally-Anne O’Malley. Not Angela
McTerry.
ANNOUNCER. And—s g
“~O-Shaunesy;
the Mystery-Eat?.
What did he say? ‘O’Shaunnesy’? ‘O’ Fucking Shaunnesy’? Angela McTerry has stolen my
number! No. No. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. IT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
The music starts. MARY turns to watch from the wings as the invisible Angela McTerry
performs ‘O’Shaunnesy’. The music is in the background as we hear MARY’s thoughts.
Oh great. Oh fabulous. Angela McTerry is doing my party piece and I am left with precisely ...
nothing. Nothing. I’ve been rehearsing this fucking number for weeks. And now what? Am I
going to let Angela McTerry steal my thunder? Am I going to let Angela McTerry win the talent
show? Am I going to let Angela McTerry have her ugly face on the front of the St Brigid’ Bugle?
Am I going to be pipped at the post by laine McTerry? NO, AM NOT. €,4 Monologue
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