Snow White And The Seven Little Dudes
by
Daris Howard
Snow White And The Seven Little Dudes
Copyright 2011
by Daris Howard
All Rights Reserved
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Cast
Note: This is Rocklandia, the land of rock and roll. Everyone, where appropriate, can dress with sunglasses and other things to make them look like musicians. They can mix their character dress with musician dress as desired.
Mirrory - Dressed up to look like the magic mirror. Could be any gender.
Wardy - Dressed up to look like a wardrobe. Could be any gender.
Chester - Dressed up to look like a chest of drawers. Could be any gender.
Brunehilda (Queen) - Big, imposing woman, dressed like opera singer with horned hat.
King - Dressed to look like Elvis Presley
Lord High Chamberlain (LHC) - middle aged man, wears cool clothes
Minister Of Music (MOM) - middle aged man wears cool clothes
Messenger 1 - dressed like musician/messenger (could be male, or female dressed as male)
Messenger 2 - dressed like musician/messenger (could be male, or female dressed as male)
Messenger 3 - dressed like musician/messenger (could be male, or female dressed as male)
Snow White (Susan or Anne) - dressed as princess/female musician
Alvin - dressed originally like a guard and at end like one of the chipmunks
Simon - dressed originally like a guard and at end like one of the chipmunks
Theodore - dressed originally like a guard and at end like one of the chipmunks
Servant - dressed as servant/musician (female)
Mr. Huntsman - dressed as hunter/musician. The queen’s agent as well.
Note on the dwarves
For the characters of the 7 dwarves, they can take on any individual persona in addition to their normal characters, as well as musicians. Each one can be different. One could take on the persona of a cowboy, one an Englishman, one French, etc. This will give them each some difference in character that can be played on by the individual actor. (Females could play some of the parts dressed as men.)
Doc (Cool Cat - C.C.)
Grumpy (Ringo Jingo -R.J.)
Happy (Less Clue - L.C.)
Sleepy (Jewel Jammer - J.J.)
Bashful (Boy Slim - Slim)
Sneezy (Politi Bo - P.B.)
Dopey (Will)
Here is a reference to the original dwarves, but their characters can be changed as desired. This is only for reference.
Doc -- Short beard -- Red tunic, brown hat, glasses
Grumpy -- Long beard -- Red tunic, brown hat, scowl
Happy -- Short beard -- Brown top, orange headpiece, smile
Sleepy -- Long beard -- Green top, blue hat, heavy eyelids
Bashful -- Long beard --- Brown top, green hat, long eyelashes
Sneezy -- Short beard -- brown jacket, orange headpiece, red nose
Dopey -- Beardless -- Green tunic, purple hat, big ears
Snow White And The Seven Little Dudes
{The scene opens to the palace room. To one side of the stage is where the king holds his council, the other side is the queen’s chamber with three magical pieces of furniture, Mirrory, (the magic mirror), Wardy (the wardrobe), and Chester (the chest of drawers).}
Mirrory: {In a eerie voice} In a far away country, in a far away land, lived a king who loved music and had his own rock {Slight pause} group.
Wardy: Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Mirrory. Can’t you even get a simple rhyme right? The word that rhymes with land is band. Band! Band!
Mirrory: {In a normal voice} Oh, and I suppose you are oh-so-smart?
Wardy: Well, at least I know how to make a rhyme.
Mirrory: And at least I always tell the truth!
Wardy: Truth?! Truth?! I suppose you are referring to the little episode about the dress the other day. Well, for your information, the queen’s looking fat had nothing to do with the dress.
Mirrory: So why didn’t you tell her that?
Wardy: That was not what she asked. She only asked me if the dress made her look fat.
Mirrory: She looked like a walrus.
Wardy: Why didn’t you tell her that if you are so almighty truthful? All you said was she looked beautiful.
Mirrory: She did. For a walrus.
Wardy: Then you admit that you were afraid she’d have one of her three thugs chop you up and use you for kindling.
Mirrory: I didn’t say any such thing. I just said...
Chester: Are you two quite through bickering? I thought we were telling a story here.
Mirrory: I was, at least until I was so rudely interrupted.
Wardy: Rude! I’ll tell you what is rude! Anyone that...
Chester: I will continue the story. {To the audience} You see, here in the land of Rock and Roll, which we call Rocklandia, everyone who is anybody sings in a rock band. But the king had traveled to a far country named {Fill in the blank with your home state, province, etc.} to find a queen, and she was just a normal kind of person.
Wardy: And she didn’t sing in a rock band.
Mirrory: Not a single note.
Chester: So as much as the people loved her, she always felt a bit left out. She always prayed for a child, and even more, she prayed that her child would be able to sing and have other musical talents.
Wardy: And she did indeed have a child, a girl, whom she named {Pause} Susan.
Chester: Susan? Wait a minute. What kind of name is Susan for a princess? I thought her name was Snow White.
Mirrory: What closet have you been locked in? Snow White is only her nickname.
Wardy: Well, excuse me for not knowing, Mr. All-Knowing, All-Seeing.
Chester: She got her nickname because...
Wardy: Let me guess. Because her skin is so white?
Chester: Yes, and you know why her skin is so white?
Wardy: Birth defect?
Chester: No, of course not. She is a princess. It is because she doesn’t eat her fruits and vegetables. Oh, a poisoned apple here and there, but basically she mostly eats the sweet pastries the cook makes.
Mirrory: The same ones that make the new queen look like a walrus.
Chester: Yes.
Mirrory: Excuse me, but I think we are getting off the subject again.
Chester: You are quite right. Let’s see, where were we?
Mirrory: You were telling about when Susan, or shall we say, Snow White, was born.
Chester: Oh, yes. Well, you see, the queen’s health wasn’t all that good, and she soon passed on to that great concert hall in the sky. A sad day for all of us.
Wardy: But not as sad as the day the king married Brunehilda.
Mirrory: And the sad thing is that Brunehilda is from Opera Land.
Chester: Indeed. And now that she is in Rocklandia, she sings rock like, well, like..
Mirrory: Like a walrus.
Wardy: Forget the walrus!
Chester: Anyway, it is like...
Mirrory: Like nothing you’ve ever herd before that is what.
Wardy: But you keep telling her she has the most beautiful voice.
Mirrory: That is actually the truth. She does have a beautiful voice, for a walrus.
Wardy: Stop it with the walrus. She might hear you.
Mirrory: Anyway, rock and roll was not meant to be sung opera style.
Chester: But the real problem is that Snow White has a beautiful voice too, and the new queen is jealous.
Mirrory: Yes, in fact she comes in every day to...
Wardy: Quiet! She is coming.
{The queen enters. She is dressed like the common picture of an opera singer with the horn hat and all. She comes over and stands in front of Mirrory and speaks in a slow commanding voice.}
Brunehilda: Magic mirror on the wall, who has the most beautiful voice of all?
Mirrory: {In the eerie voice} In the world there is not to be seen another with a voice as lovely as our {slight pause} Brunehilda.
Brunehilda: {Shaking her head in disgust} All that money I paid for a magic mirror and I had to get a defective one that can’t even get his rhymes right. How am I supposed to sound diabolical if my mirror can’t even do a rhyme?
Mirrory: Your majesty, you know you did buy me at the second hand shop. Why did you think I would be in a second hand shop? The magic dwarf that made me had let his poetic license expire. He really messed up when he did that.
Brunehilda: Yeah, and so did I when I bought you. {Shaking her fist at him} I swear someday I’m going to...
Mirrory: Just remember, Your Majesty, that it would cost you seven years of bad luck to break a mirror.
Brunehilda: It might be worth it!
{Brunehilda storms out.}
Wardy: Boy, that was close. I thought you were a goner.
Mirrory: That is not the biggest problem. The biggest problem is that Snow White’s voice is getting more lovely each day, and this curse I have of having to always tell the truth means I can’t lie when her voice becomes more beautiful than the queen’s.
Wardy: Then you will be telling your bad unrhymes from a landfill.
Chester: {Stage whisper} Quiet now, I hear someone coming.
{The king and his two advisors, Lord High Chamberlain and the Minister of Music, come in.}
King: Have the reports come in from the frontiers yet this morning?
LHC: They just arrived, Sire. They are just waiting your command to bid them enter.
King: Have the first one come in, then.
{LHC waves off stage and the Messenger 1 comes running in and kneels before the king.}
Messenger 1: The report from the Jazzlandia front, Sire.
King: Arise and speak.
Messenger 1: {Rising to face the king} Your Majesty, we were doing very well, making great progress. Our army was just reaching the high point of the chorus when their army counter attacked.
King: Oh, my goodness! What happened?
Messenger 1: They...{Pause} I hate to say it, Sire; it was so dreadful.
LHC: Out with it, man. Withholding information is an offense punishable by three solid days of listening to opera.
{MOM hits LHC.}
LHC: What did you do that for?
MOM: You know the new law, and you know I had to hit you. The king does not want to hear that swear word in this country anymore.
LHC: You mean the word Opera?
{MOM hit LHC again.}
LHC: Ow! {LHC turns to King} Your Majesty, I must protest. How are we supposed to talk intelligently about our war with Operaland if we can’t use that word?
King: I suppose you will have to just say “the O word” when you want to talk about Opera. Oh, now look what you did. You made me go and swear. I guess then a punishment must be inflicted. Go ahead.
{MOM hits LHC.}
LHC: Ow! How come when you say it, I am the one that gets hit, Your Majesty?
King: You don’t think it is right for someone to hit the king, do you?
LHC: Of course not.
King: But the law was broken, and when the law is broken, there must be a punishment, correct?
LHC: Well, yes, but...
King: Then don’t you think that the person closest to the king should bear the punishment? And you are my most trusted advisor.
MOM: {Acting all righteous} I personally would consider it as a great honor to bear that for you my king.
LHC: {Smiling as if getting an idea} Your Majesty, it is, of course, an honor to bear it for you, but I hate to take all of the honor for myself. I would, therefore, gladly share with the Minister of Music. In fact, I feel you honor me plenty, and would indeed let him have all of the honor of taking it for you.
MOM: {Flustered at this turn of events} I would have to object. I could not take all of the honor for myself.
LHC: {Sarcastically} I insist, my friend.
MOM: Oh, no, I couldn’t. You can keep it for...
King: That is enough. I’m sure we can have enough honor to go around. Every time I inadvertently swear, you can switch off. I suppose we should try it. Opera.
{LHC hits MOM}
MOM: Ow!
King: Opera.
{MOM hits LHC}
LHC: Ow!
King: Opera.
{LHC hits MOM a little harder.}
MOM: Ow! Dang it! Ow!
King: Opera.
{MOM hits LHC a little harder.}
LHC: Confound it, that hurt!
King: I could really enjoy this.
Messenger 1: Your Majesty, I still have my report.
King: Oh, yes.
Messenger 1: As I was saying, we were just making progress, and then the Jazzlandia army... {He pauses and cringes.}
King: Out with it, man, if you don’t want to have to listen to opera for three days.
{LHC hits MOM.}
MOM: Not so hard!
Messenger 1: We were just making progress, and then the Jazzlandia army..., well, they...they improvised, Sire.
King: Improvised! Why, of all the dastardly tricks!
Messanger1: It caused great confusion in the section ranks. It was awful, Your Highness.
King: Fighting dirty, are they?
Messanger1: Not only that, Sire, but they switched off, with each person in the group doing his own improvisation. It went on for days.
King: But I didn’t hear anything about this yesterday.
Messenger 1: Maybe it just seemed to go on for days. It can do that, you know.
King: How did our army take it?
Messanger1: It wore them down, Sire. It was horrible. In fact, Jazzlandia had one musician that was so bad, they finally took away his horn and gave him two sticks and put him on percussion.
LHC: Oh, my, no!
Messenger 1: And when he still couldn’t play, they took away one of the sticks and put him in front to conduct.
LHC: How demoralizing to our army that must have been!
Messanger1: Yes, but smart on Jazzlandia’s part. Anyways, what command should I take back?
King: I don’t know. Perhaps we could have our men learn to improvise.
MOM: Oh, Your Majesty. Do you know of what you speak? Rock music improvised? That’s like...that’s like...
LHC: Torture is the word.
King: Perhaps we could provide our army with ear plugs before they start.
LHC: I’m afraid improvising rock music would violate the Geneva Convention on human rights, Sire.
King: Then what do you suggest?
LHC: I hate to suggest it, but we might have no choice. Some of the modern rock groups simply stick with only playing three chords over and over and over. It’s almost like improvising.
MOM: Or worse.
LHC: Perhaps we could gain ground with that.
MOM: Or another option is to have them simply play so loud that no one can pick out a tune. Then no one will care what they play.
King: Don’t the modern groups do that as well?
LHC: Some of them. They can only play three chords, so they make up for it by playing loud to cover it up.
King: Then that is what we will do. Messenger, return and report to your band generals.
Messenger 1: Yes, Your Majesty.
{Messenger 1 exits.}
LHC: It is possible, Your Majesty, that under such harsh conditions, we may have to cut the amount of time men can serve in the army.
King: That is a consideration for another day. Summon the next Messenger.
{LHC waves offstage, and Messenger 2 enters.}
Messenger 2: Your Majesty. I have the report from the frontier with Countryland.
King: Oh, yes. Who is the king over there now?
LHC: I hear the king of Country is Brooks, Sire. King Brooks of Countryland.
King: That doesn’t sound all that scary.
Messenger 2: No, but country music is always the same.
King: How’s that?
Messenger 2: You start listening to it, and the next thing you know your horse dies, you wife leaves you, your truck falls apart, and your dog bites no one but you.
King: That’s horrible.
Messenger 2: Yes, Sire.
King: Perhaps we could just provide earplugs for our men so they don’t have to listen to it.
Messenger 2: Won’t help, Sire. Once they’ve heard it, they can never get it out of their heads.
LHC: I’m afraid that is the case, Sire. Men on the front with Country come back with Post Traumatic Music Disorder. The music haunts them the rest of their lives.
MOM: It has become a huge expense, Sire. Men will be just as normal as they can be, and then they will break into singing something about a hound dog or something. No matter what we do, we can never cure them.
King: There has got to be a way to fight back and beat them at their own game.
LHC: What do suggest, Your Majesty?
King: Perhaps we could play “It’s A Small World” over and over to fight back.
LHC: Remember the Geneva Convention On Human Rights, Sire. That song is banned in warfare.
King: You’re right. I forgot.
MOM: There is that little children’s song, Sire.
King: Which one is that?
MOM: {Singing} This is the song that never ends, cause it goes on and on, my friends. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, and now they’ll continue singing it forever, just because, this is the song that never ends, ’cause it goes on and on, my friends. Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, and now they’ll continue singing it forever just because, this is the song that never...
LHC: Stop! Stop! Do you want to drive us all mad?
King: Messenger, take that song back, and the Minister of Music with it.
MOM: Excuse me, Sire?
King: I was only kidding. {Pause} Kind of.
Messenger 2: But, Sire, what if it drives our army mad first?
King: Have them do it in short intervals in rotation so they can bear it.
Messenger 2: Yes, Sire.
King: You are excused.
Messenger 2: Yes, Sire.
LHC: I hope that all works out well, Sire.
King: What could possibly go wrong?
LHC: Well, I am reminded of that news report of the scout master that tried to feed all of his scouts to the bears.
MOM: Oh, yes. I remember that.
King: I don’t. Refresh my memory.
LHC: The scouts sang 100 bottles of beer on the wall, and when they finished, they started over.
King: I can’t blame him for trying to feed them to the bears. Whatever happened to the scoutmaster?
MOM: He was tried for attempted murder, but released by reason of insanity.
King: That was a good call, I would say. Well, lets get the next messenger.
{Messenger 2, bows, and goes out.}
LHC: Next is the messenger from Blues-Land, Sire.
King: Bring him in.
{Messenger 3 enters at LHC’s signal. He is bobbing his head up and down in a blues type rhythm, and continues during the whole delivery of his message, as well as talking slow and cool like a blues musician.}
LHC: Here he is, Sire.
King: And how goes everything at the frontier with Blues-Land? I hope you have better news than the first two.
Messenger 3: I’m afraid not, my Cool Cat King.
King: Speak English, man. What is going on out there?
Messenger 3: Well, let me tell you, Big Daddy. When a person hears the blues for too long, he gets so everything in life is rhythm.
King: Are you sick?
Messenger 3: No, My Man. I’m cool.
King: I didn’t ask you about your temperature. I asked you if you were sick.
LHC: Sire, I do believe ‘cool’ means he is doing all right.
Messenger3: I’m more than all right; I’m in the groove.
King: Is it contagious?
MOM: {Now bobbing his head} If we are lucky. {The king turns and looks at him, and he stops bobbing his head and gets serious.} I mean, no.
King: {To the messenger} Is everyone out there being affected like this?
Messenger3: Only the cool ones that are lucky enough.
King: {Bobbing his head} That’s it. We better get a rotation here. Contact the general and make sure those out there are rotated to another area. And get this man out of here before I lose my head.
LHC: {Now bobbing his head - to the messenger} You are excused.
{After they leave the king shakes his head to stop bobbing, and the others follow suit.}
King: All right, who’s next?
LHC: That would be...
{Snow White enters and speaks, interrupting LHC.}
Snow: Father, could I have a word with you?
King: Snow, can’t it wait? We are really busy here listening to the reports from the frontier.
Snow: But Father, I am sure that Brunehilda is trying to kill me.
King: Oh, Snow, that is wonderful. It is so nice to see her taking an interest in you. All these years she has seemed to want to ignore you.
Snow: Father, did you hear what I said? I said she is trying to kill me!
King: Yes, I heard. That is such an amazing turn around. To have her go from a total disinterest in you to that in such a short time is absolutely thrilling.
Snow: But, Father, I am sure she is also trying to destroy my voice.
King: {Shocked} Snow, that is a horrible charge to bring against someone. What would cause you to make such a charge?
Snow: A few days ago she made me drink a whole bottle of lemon juice.
King: Perhaps she was just trying to improve your health.
Snow: But I was so puckered up I could hardly make a sound for two days.
King: But that doesn’t mean she was trying to destroy your voice.
Snow: The other day she said she had come to help me prepare for my concert. She wanted me to practice breathing deeply, and then she had me breathe helium.
King: Helium?
Snow: Yes, helium. I was lucky it wore off before my concert because I sounded like a chipmunk.
King: I quite like chipmunks.
LHC: {Whispering to MOM} At least she isn’t giving Snow singing lessons. She can be grateful for that.
King: {Turning to the men} I need your wisdom in this matter.
MOM: I can be of great help there. I know a lot about chipmunks.
King: I wasn’t talking about chipmunks.
MOM: Oh, what were we talking about, Sire?
King: Women. They confuse me.
LHC: Don’t look at me. They confuse me too. I’m not sure there is a man alive that can’t say the same, Sire.
MOM: I must concur there, Sire.
King: {Turning back to Snow} We will look into this, Snow. And if you have more concerns, make sure you come to me.
Snow: Thank you, Father.
{Snow exits.}
King: {To his two advisors} What do you think of what Susan said?
LHC: I feel it could definitely be a valid concern, Your Majesty. The queen does seem to be somewhat jealous of the princess.
King: I will have to look into it later. Right now I have more pressing concerns. I want your opinion on the lyrics to my new song.
As we go walking on a moonlit night,
My love for you is always shining well.
And I can promise you all of my love,
Brighter than the stars in heaven overhead.
What do you think?
MOM: It sounds like they were written by the magic mirror.
King: Are you inferring I don’t write my own lyrics? Why, I could have you banished to Operaland for that offensive remark.
MOM: {Nervously} No, Your Majesty. I was just saying that they have that magical quality to them.
King: {Pleased} Do you really think so?
MOM: Oh, absolutely.
King: That is exciting. My album sales have really fallen off since the tax on anyone not purchasing one expired.
LHC: Perhaps we should reinstate it. It brought in a lot of revenue.
King: {Glaring at him} Are you saying people would rather pay the tax than purchase my CD?
LHC: {Nervously} Of course not. With lyrics like this I’m sure the tax would be a wash as people would want to buy your music anyway. I mean, with the high quality of the CD, perhaps the CD would be a great means to generate revenue.
King: {Pleased} Yes, of course. It takes all the marketing a person can figure these days with that new group showing up that is so popular. Who would have thought a group named after some kind of insect would be so popular? What are their names; the ants, or the grasshoppers, or something?
MOM: The Beatles, your Majesty.
King: Yes. That’s it. I’m thinking I should have a new name. Let’s take a break while I consider things. I will call for you when I am ready to continue. I need some time to continue to work on my new lyrics.
MOM: Yes, Your Majesty.
LHC: As you wish, Sire.
MOM: {Whispering to LHC as they exit} I still think his lyrics sounds like that mirror made them.
LHC: I agree, but I wouldn’t mention it again.
{As the two men start to exit, the king calls after them.}
King: Keep a stiff upper lip and don’t let the opera bugs bite.
LHC: Oh, great! Now whose turn is it to hit who?
King: Oh, my. Did I say opera? Oh, now look. You made me say it again. Well, I guess it’s a turn for both of you.
{They both hit each other, MOM first and then LHC as they continue down stage. The king pauses and freezes.}
LHC: For crying out loud, you don’t need to pummel me every time the king says that word.
MOM: It’s not like you hit softly either.
LHC: Well, perhaps we can do a better job of hitting softer. Let’s try it. {He swings hard and at the last minute stops, barely tapping MOM.} See? Like that. You try.
MOM: {Does it the same way} I don’t know. Somehow it feels good to take out my frustration by really whacking you.
LHC: But my frustration is coming from getting whacked. You whack me hard, and I want to do the same to you.
MOM: But will it be convincing to the king?
LHC: We can practice to make it look that way. I just wished we could do something about everyone else.
MOM: What do you mean?
LHC: Look for yourself. Everyone whacking each other.
{Two people walk by in front of them, pantomiming as if they are talking. Suddenly one whacks the other. They walk a little farther, continuing the talking pantomime, and the person whacks the other one back. Others join on the stage, walking, talking, and whacking each other randomly.}
MOM: I never noticed it all before.
LHC: It’s getting way out of hand. A whack whack here, and a whack whack there, here a whack, there a whack, everywhere a whack, whack.
MOM: {To the Old McDonald tune} Old McDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O.
LHC: Would you stop that? I’m being serious.
{Everyone leaves, and the King unfreezes. He excitedly turns to the mirror. Notice that he doesn’t phrase in rhyme as he doesn’t know rhyme.}
King: Oh magic mirror on the wall, I need your help.
Mirrory: Oh great king of all the land, whatever you wish is my {slight pause} job.
King: Will you please help me with lyrics for my new song?
Mirrory: Just hum your song to me, O King, and I will provide lyrics that you can {pause} use.
King: Okay, here goes.
{King hums a song, and Mirrory dances along or he can do the lyrics right with the music.}
Mirrory: My love is good, my love is true, There is no one I love like her
King: That is wonderful. Thank you, Magic Mirror. Now, there is one other thing I need.
Mirrory: Oh, King, I am always happy to help you. There is nothing for you I would not {pause} help with.
King: {Totally oblivious to lack of rhyme} Well, you see, I have this problem. Susan thinks she is having problems with Brunehilda. I, myself, think it just might be some kind of female thing. So I want you to help me understand women.
Mirrory: {In his normal voice} But my King, there is no man or thing that understand women.
King: But you are all wise and knowing.
Mirrory: Yes, that is true, but I am not a miracle worker.
King: Can’t you try?
Mirrory: I could try. But you would have to phrase it as a question.
King: Oh Magic Mirror on the wall, will you please help me understand women?
Mirrory: {In his eery voice} There is no man in any land, who any type of woman can {pause} figure out.
King: I was afraid of that. I need something to give me strength. {He slips over to Wardy and grabs the wine bottle.} Just one little sip from Brunehilda’s secret stash.. {He then tips it up and gulps a few. He then turns it over.} Whoa, I didn’t mean to drink it all. She’s going to know somebody’s been taking some. {He looks to the side stage.} I think someone is coming, so I must go. I don’t want anyone to know we are collaborating or that I’m drinking Brunehilda’s wine, do you all understand?
{All three nod and say “Yes, Sire” as the King exits.}
Wardy: What kind of lyrics are those you gave the king? They don’t even rhyme.
Mirrory: Hey! He asked me, and I did the best I could.
Chester: And is that true about women?
Mirrory: In my vast knowledge, with my magic making it so I can look back over thousands of years, I have found nothing that would indicate men are any closer to understanding women than they ever have been.
Wardy: Quiet! Someone is coming.
{Brunehilda enters. She looks around to make sure no one is there, then approaches the magic mirror.}
Brunehilda: I must check one more time before I perform tonight. {Clears her throat} Magic mirror on the wall, who has the most beautiful voice of all?
Mirrory: When it comes to singing, your voice is right, but one sings even better and her name is {slight pause} Susan.
Brunehilda: {Let’s out a scream} Why, you lousy little mirror! You can’t even get a rhyme right, and now you tell me this? I will have my guards chop you into pieces! {She calls offstage to one of her henchmen.} Captain Alvin, bring your men and come!
Mirrory: {Sarcastically} Right! Kill the messenger! That will do a lot of good.
Brunehilda: I will have you burnt at the stake. I will have your ashes sprinkled where even the birds won’t find them.
{Alvin, Simon, and Theodore come running in and bow.}
Alvin: Yes, Your Majesty?
Brunehilda: I want you to...
Mirrory: You may want to reconsider, Your Majesty. Remember that breaking a mirror will bring you seven years of bad luck.
Brunehilda: That’s why I will have my men do it.
Mirrory: Still counts.
Brunehilda: You.. Why.. I ought to...
Mirrory: It seems to me that you are forgetting that the real problem is Snow White.
Brunehilda: {Calming down slightly} You are right. What should I do?
Mirrory: I’m sorry, your Majesty, but we mirrors are not made with the ability to consider diabolical plans.
Brunehilda: Then I will have to think of one of my own.
Simon: {Thumping his fist into his palm} We could take care of her for you, Your Highness.
Brunehilda: No, that would be too obvious. But I think I know the perfect thing. You three go out so no one is suspicious.
Alvin, Simon, and Theodore: Yes, Your Majesty.
{They bow and leave, she rings a bell, and a servant appears and bows.}
Servant: Yes, My Queen.
Brunehilda: Call my agent, Mr. Huntsman. Immediately!
Servant: Yes, My Queen.
{The servant exits, and Brunehilda opens the cupboard on Wardy and pulls out some bottles of liquid. She mixes them together. She speaks with great triumph.}
Brunehilda: It’s perfect!
Wardy: Excuse me for asking, My Queen, but what is it?
Brunehilda: It is the perfect mix. It simply tastes like water, but once Snow White drinks it she will never want to sing again even if she can, because it reverses the voice from voice from good to bad or bad to good, but it only works once, and then it is undoable.
Wardy: I don’t understand.
Brunehilda: Let me illuminate you. {Grabbing Wardy by the throat and doing other similar things, and sounding dark and evil.} First it will grab her voice, and make her so she can’t speak. And then, if it ever releases her voice, it will make her sound like a chipmunk. {She laughs like a villain.} And do you think anyone will want to listen to someone that sings like a chipmunk?
{She laughs again as Mirrory, Wardy, and Chester look concerned.}
Chester: How do you plan to get her to drink it?
Brunehilda: That is the easy part.
{She takes a canteen and pours the mixture in it. She has no sooner done so than Huntsman enters.}
Huntsman: You called for me, My Queen?
Brunehilda: Yes, I have a little job for you. I want you to take Snow White on a long hike. Don’t let her take any water. When she gets thirsty, give her this.
{Brunehilda holds out the canteen. Huntsman takes it and starts to smell it.}
Huntsman: What is it?
Brunehilda: {Jerking it back away} Don’t taste it, unless you want to destroy your voice. {She laughs diabolically} But make sure Snow White does drink it.
Huntsman: But Your Majesty, I can’t...
Brunehilda: I could revoke your agent’s license and see to it that you never book another group again.
Huntsman: You wouldn’t!
Brunehilda: Oh, yes, I would. I could also make sure your own band never has another gig! Ever!
Huntsman: No one could be so inhumane!
Brunehilda: I would. {Handing him the mixture} Now, do as I say! And when you return, this better be empty!
Huntsman: {Dejected} Yes, Your Majesty.
{Huntsman exits as Brunehilda sings a diabolical laugh in as horrible for a laugh as possible. (Maybe like Gerdy from Oklahoma.)}
End of Scene
Blackout
Act I, Scene 2
{Huntsman comes in walking in front of the stage, with Snow White dragging in behind.}
Snow: Can’t we stop? It seems like we have been going forever.
Huntsman: The queen said the fresh air and hiking will be good for your health.
Snow: Whenever I hear that, I become concerned. I don’t truly think she cares at all about my health.
Huntsman: Are you thirsty?
Snow: Yes, actually. I am just about to die of thirst.
{He holds out the canteen. She undoes the lid and is about to take a drink when Huntsman yells.}
Huntsman: Stop!
Snow: What?
Huntsman: {Falling on his knees before her.} I’m sorry, Your Highness. The queen sent this for you to drink. She said once you drank it you would never be able to sing normally again.
Snow: But how could you?
Huntsman: Please forgive me, Your Highness. The Queen said if I didn’t she would take away my agent’s license, and make sure my band and I would never have a gig ever again.
Snow: Oh, how horrible!
Huntsman: She is mad, Your Highness. Mad and crazy! And she wants to destroy your voice.
Snow: What do I do?
Huntsman: Run away, Your Highness. Run away and never come back!
Snow: But I have a gig at GiGi’s tonight.
Huntsman: But if the queen catches you, it will probably be your last.
Snow: You are right. Perhaps I should run away to jazzland or something.
Huntsman: I am sorry it has come to this, your Highness.
Snow: Thank you for your kindness, and for not letting me drink that stuff.
Huntsman: Take care of yourself, and may the wind always be at your back.
Snow: What does that mean?
Huntsman: I don’t know. I heard it in a song once.
{Huntsman exits off the side of the stage they cam from, and Snow off the other. The seven dwarfs come on with all of their instruments.}
Doc: I tell you, that was just about as sorry a practice as we have ever had.
Grumpy: I didn’t think it was half bad.
Bashful: Yeah, but it’s the other half I’m worried about.
Grumpy: Well, it must be the lyrics. I go. I go. It’s home from work I go. What idiot wrote those lyrics?
Happy: You did.
Grumpy: Are you trying to pick a fight, Buddy?
Doc: Look. More than the lyrics, I think we need someone else on vocals.
Sleepy: Well, we could try the troll that lives over at that river crossing.
Doc: No. What we need is a female.
Bashful: What is a female?
Doc: A girl.
Grumpy: What in blazes name is a girl?
Doc: If you don’t know the answer to that, I think we have probably been living out here in the woods too long.
Grumpy: Well, I don’t, Mr. Know-It-All. So why don’t you illuminate us?
Doc: A girl is a... well, a girl is a...
{They all look at him expectantly, and Grumpy jumps in and mimics him in a mocking voice.}
Grumpy: A girl is a... a girl is a..., a girl is a what?
Doc: I know. Do you remember Mom? She was a girl.
Sleepy: She has been gone a long time.
Happy: Yeah, she has been gone so long, I’ve plumb forgotten what she was like.
Doc: The point is, she was a she, while we are all he’s.
Grumpy: {Sarcastically} Oh, yeah, it’s all clear now. For cryin out loud, how are we supposed to recognize one if we see one?
Doc: Well, she’ll kind of look like us, except {using hand motions} she’ll have more curves.
{Grumpy points at Doc and does a ‘he’s crazy’ sign.}
Bashful: I done seen an old tree on the wind blown slopes of the mountain that had curves like that.
Doc: {Frustrated} We’re not talking about a tree! We are talking about a girl.
Grumpy: And just where are we supposed to find one of these here girls?
Doc: I don’t know.
Sleepy: Maybe they sell ‘em on Ebay. I heard you can pretty much get everything on there.
Happy: Maybe we could Google girls. It would help us figure them out.
Doc: I’m sure they don’t sell them on Ebay. And I know what a girl is, and believe me, I don’t even think Google could figure them out.
Sleepy: Then how do we get her to sing for us?
Sneezy: And where do we find one in the first place?
Doc: We won’t. That’s the problem. There’s not one within 50 miles of here.
{Snow has been coming in as Doc says the last lines and walks right up behind him.}
Snow: Hello.
Mix together a wicked queen, Snow White, the greatest singer in Rocklandia, and seven little men that have their own rock band, and you are in for a delightful, modernized retelling of this delightful fairy tale.
Author: Daris Howard
Synopsis:
Anyone who is anyone in Rocklandia is part of a band. But the queen, from a foreign country, can't sing. She dreams of a baby that will have a beautiful voice. Her baby, Susan, whom everyone calls Snow White, is born with a beautiful voice.
But the queen dies, and the new queen doesn't like anyone singing better than she does. This causes problems for Snow White. She tries to talk to her father, but he is too distracted with the wars between his country and those of Jazzland, Operaland, Bluesland, and others.
When the magic mirror informs the queen that Snow White sings better, she decides to have her agent, Mr. Huntsman, trick her into drinking something that will destroy her voice.
Mr. Huntsman can not do it, and she ends up living with the seven dwarves, who have their own rock band and are in need of a female vocalist.
When the queen tries to destroy Snow White's voice on her own, the tables are turned so that everyone can sing happily ever after.
Snow White And The Seven Little Dudes
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