INTERIOR DWARFS’ COTTAGE – THANKSGIVING DAY
Snow White bustles around the kitchen doing all the GD work while simultaneously entertaining everyone with her angelic singing voice. Snow plans to power through this holiday by ignoring every single word that the dwarfs utter and pretending not to see anything that they are doing. She also has wine. Lots of it.
SNOW WHITE: I hope everyone’s getting hungry!
GRUMPY: Ugh. Do we have to eat? I’m enjoying a good brood about how hungry I am.
DOPEY: And I’m enjoying a good braid. See? Removes his cap to show off a ragtag tangle of twisted hair knots.
DOC: Hmm. Next time use a mirror and you’ll braid much clearer.
EVERYONE EXCEPT DOC: Collective sigh of resignation.
SNOW WHITE: Alrighty! We need eight plates, eight sets of silverware, seven napkins for Dopey and one napkin for the rest of us to share.
SNEEZY: I’d get the good china, but it’s stored in a dusty cupboard.
SLEEPY: I’d get the good china, but I need more shut-eye.
BASHFUL: I’d ask you to STOP CALLING IT SHUT-EYE, but I’m too shy to express my true feelings out loud.
HAPPY: I’ll get the flatware, Miss Snow White! Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to help I go…Opens cupboard and is enveloped by a dust cloud. Continues singing despite this setback.
SNOW WHITE: My goodness! This turkey smells divine! Pulls turkey out of the oven and almost burns herself because Dopey tugs on her hair and then giggles like a lunatic which is what really startles her.
HAPPY: Heigh-ho, heigh-whooOoAa! Stacks dinner plates, salad bowls, dessert plates, beer mugs, wine glasses, and silverware in a precarious pile that is twice his height.
GRUMPY: If you break everything, this will be the best Thanksgiving of my life.
HAPPY: Loses his balance with each passing second as he continues to add flatware to his unmanageable burden and no one helps him. Haha! Grumpy you are TOO much!
DOC: Hmm. Let’s stack the plates into a crate.
SNOW WHITE: Takes a hearty swig from her wine flask while the dwarfs roll their eyes in unison.
DWARFS: Half-heartedly help Happy transport the plates etc. to the table.
HAPPY: I could not be more thankful for the opportunity to stretch my limbs and work together with my best friends in all the world.
SNEEZY: Sneezes. Drops and breaks two chalices. I told you these would be dusty.
SLEEPY: JEEZ. You are all SO LOUD, it’s a wonder ANYONE ever feels rested around here.
GRUMPY: You snore for thirteen hours every night. It’s a wonder you ever wake up alive around here.
SNOW WHITE: Empties her wine flask during this welcome moment of distraction. Let’s set the table and get to eating!
BASHFUL: I’d like to share that wine you’ve been sneaking, but I’m far too shy to ask that sort of thing out loud.
DOC: Hmm. A cloth for the table makes us ready and able. Grabs the first piece of fabric he sees.
SLEEPY: HEY that’s my blanket!
GRUMPY: Too bad, bud.
DOPEY: Swipes the tablecloth-blanket from Doc and wraps it around his shoulders like a cape. Zooms around the cottage so the cape flies out behind him.
SNOW WHITE: Food’s getting coo-oold!
BASHFUL: I’d tell you GD SOBs to get your acts together, but I’m way to low-key to say anything of that nature outside the confines of my own mind.
Dwarfs pin Dopey down and revoke his cape. Happy, Doc, and Bashful arrange plates, cups, and flatware. Snow White continues adding dishes of beautiful food to table. Dwarfs find spots around a Thanksgiving spread they don’t deserve to look at, let alone eat.
GRUMPY: This table is overcrowded. Too much food. Too many loved ones.
HAPPY: Don’t worry, friend-o. I can easily just stand off to the side or eat from the bed if you need more space. I’m just enjoying being near you all on such an important holiday.
SNEEZY: Sneezes into the mashed potatoes. Snow, are there pepper flakes in here? Nothing irritates my sensitive nose like peppery flakes of actual pepper. I thought I told you this before.
SNOW WHITE: Will someone say grace? I really think we should say grace now.
SLEEPY: Wipes crust from his eyes. Yawns hideously.
DOPEY: Pick me!
BASHFUL: I’d rather listen to the Evil Queen fish for compliments in a mirror than hear Dopey attempt to string one coherent sentence together; however, I’m inherently bashful and would avoid saying anything that harsh at a volume that anyone’s ears could pick up on.
DOC: Hmm. Snow White has a face, would she mind saying grace?
HAPPY: Gosh, Snow. I’d love to hear you do it. I’ll write down everything you say so that I can read it when I wake up each morning.
GRUMPY: Snow should do it because I don’t want to admit that I have anything to be grateful for.
SNOW WHITE: Alright, boys. Covertly refills her wine flask as she speaks, taking advantage of the closed eyes. Dear Lord, thank you that we are—miraculously—able to keep up appearances despite the inner turmoil we may face. Mostly, thank you for the great feast that some brilliant, hardworking, definitely sober person crafted carefully while no one else even offered to help. Amen.
DOPEY: Raw men.
SLEEPY: Wakes up from a prayer-nap. HUH?
HAPPY: Wow, Snow. This is just incredible. I’m going to look at every dish for a full minute before passing it along so I can burn the images and smells into my brain to keep in my mental memory bank.
SNOW WHITE: Out of all the idiots here, you are the one I hate most.
DWARFS: Freeze with their forks halfway to their chins. Silently stare at Snow White.
SNOW WHITE: Oh my dear goodness! I need to bring more firewood inside. Do excuse me for a moment.
Snow White slinks into the backyard, a bit tipsier than she meant to be. She ducks behind a massive wood pile where she’s been building a small, sturdy spacecraft. She removes a toolkit from the folds of her skirt and tightens a few screws on the exterior structure.
As soon as she figures out how to genetically reproduce without men, Snow plans to launch her craft into space and colonize a new planet. Her offspring and space companions will be smart, hot, and capable in all manners of conversation and common sense. Most importantly, no one will be named after a personality trait or health condition.
Snow tilts her head back — the stars are burning brightly on this cold November night. She lingers outside for another minute before gathering a load of firewood and plastering a smile on her innocent, duplicitous face.