Sketch: The Tooth Fairy
Drunken Tooth Fairy enters, takes a swig from his bottle, wipes his mouth with his sleeve: All right, where’s the kid? There she is.
Tooth Fairy feels under the pillow for a tooth, but doesn’t find one. He curses, sets the bottle down and pulls out a pair of pliers: Kid, you’re getting yourself some money whether you want it or not. I’ve got quotas to meet.
TF prises open the girl’s mouth and reaches in with the pliers. She wakes up, screams and shoves his hands away.
TF: Shut up, kid. You’re gonna wake up the neighbourhood.
Girl: Wh-who are you?
TF: Who do I look like, the Easter Bunny? I’m the flippin’ Tooth Fairy. Well, one of them.
Girl: You’re not a Tooth Fairy!
TF: Says who?
Girl: Me. You’re all scruffy looking. And you aren’t flying, you’re just clumping around. And you haven’t sprinkled any fairy dust anywhere. And your breath really stinks!
TF: You sound just like my old man, ‘Whaddya wanna be a fairy for, you clumsy oaf? Well, I showed him. Look at me. I’m a fairy. I’m a bleedin’ fairy! Okay, chat’s over. Time to earn your pound, kid.
TF climbs onto her bed and starts trying to get her mouth open and insert the pliers. She struggles.
TF: Look, kid, you can make this easy or hard, but the tooth is coming out.
He redoubles his efforts. She bites him. He howls in pain and jerks away.
TF: Why did you do that?!
Girl: You are a nasty fairy, and you’re doing it wrong. I don’t even have any loose teeth, and it’s against the rules to take teeth that aren’t under pillows.
TF: How do you know? You’re just a kid. I’m the tooth fairy.
Girl: Those are the rules. Everyone knows the rules.
TF: Fine. Those are the rules. Arrgh! I’m such a bad fairy.
He rages around the stage bellowing about unfairness and lost promotions and drinking and his father. The rage changes to despair. He finishes slumped on the bed, head in hands crying about how his father was right about him – he’s the worst fairy in the world.
Girl: I’m sure you’re not the worst.
TF: I am. I’m clumsy and I can’t flit around like the other fairies.
Girl: I bet you can. Give it a try.
TF: Really. I can’t.
Girl: Just follow me.
She jumps out of bed and flits daintily across the stage. TF thumps after her knocking things down.
Girl: Okay, maybe flitting isn’t your thing. I’m sure you can be a fairy without flitting.
TF: That’s what I keep saying, but nobody listens, esepcially not my dad. I wanted to be a new kind of fairy, but look how I ended up.
Girl: You seem pretty sad.
TF: I am sad. I’m sad and it hurts. You know what I have? I have a great big wound inside me, a great big hidden wound, and it’s not getting any better. (sobs)
Girl: Mr Tooth Fairy, did you know that Jesus died for you so that that wound could be healed?
TF: Jesus died for fairies?!
Girl: Of course he did! Now what I want you to do is take a little break from collecting teeth and wait for Steve to come up becase he is going to talk about how God can heal our hidden wounds.
TF exits happily, followed by the girl.
4 May 2009 Jeff Gill
tags: depression,
drama,
silly
