Category Archives: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 7)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery-comedy script.  Click here to read Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

Mystery comedy script. Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

 

Uncle Charlie:    I’m beginning to think now it would have been better if I’d taken the vacuum cleaner in to Max first thing.  It is a bit inconvenient lugging this thing around.

Bonita:  Can’t you drop it once we get inside the wax museum?

Uncle Charlie:  Say that again Bonita.

Bonita:  Oh, I didn’t mean to drop it literally.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course, I know what you meant, but you’ve just hit on the solution.  Drop it, that’s the key!

Joan:  The key to what?

Uncle Charlie:  The key to your unknown young admirers shyness.  Bonita’s timely utterance of the word ‘drop’ reminded me of a similar case in my high school days; a young man by the name of Willoughby Bunsteader was secretly enamored of a young woman by the name of Graveline Potts.  He could never muster the courage to speak to her, or even approach her, until one day  between geometry and Spanish class she dropped her protractor.  Willoughby seized upon the opportunity and rushed forward, scooping the protractor off the floor with great dexterity and returning it to Miss Potts.  Her smile and warn thank you, combined with his own sudden action, instantly dissolved Willoughby’s prior reticence, and, almost at once he became a most ardent suitor.

Joan:  Most ardent?  You mean like sending flowers?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, flowers.

Joan: And chocolates?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, in the heart-shaped box and all.

Joan:  Wow.  And writing poems to her?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, perhaps not that far, after all no young man likes it to be known that he writes poetry, unless of course he has a British accent, or perhaps a rugged-looking scar on his cheek.  Willoughby however spoke with as pure a Midwestern twang as the best of us, and his cheeks still looked as soft as a babies bottom.  Bold as he may be in bestowing flowers and chocolates, he knew ’twas best to give poetry a pass.  Theirs was a great high-school romance, and it didn’t end there either.  They stayed together all through college and were eventually married.  They have seven children together.

Joan:    All  because a girl dropped her protractor.

Uncle Charlie:  Exactly my dear, and I say what worked on Willoughby may also work on your young man.  All you need to do is drop something.

Joan:  I haven’t got a protractor on me at the moment.  Here’s a pen, do you think that would work?

Uncle Charlie:  Sure, anything like that.

Joan:  Here goes.  Drops pen to ground.

Enter two young looking teenage boys.  One stops, picks up pen, and hands it to Joan.

Young teenage boy:  Here you go m’am.

Joan:  Thanks.

Exit two teenage boys.

Joan:  Did you hear that?  He called me m’am.  What do I look like, somebodies grandmother?

Uncle Charlie:  Probably a couple of freshmen.  You know how everyone else in high school looks so much older when you’re a freshman.

Joan:  Freshman or not, I think he needs to have his eyes examined.

Lou:  Look, here come two seniors, both of them starters on the football team.  Try it with them.

Joan:  Okay, here goes again.  Drops pen as two high school senior  boys enter.  One picks up pen and hands it to Joan.

First senior:  Here you go, you dropped this.

Joan:  Thank you.  Say, you guys are on the football team, aren’t you?

Second senior:  That’s right.

Joan:  You know, I go to all the home games.

First senior:  That’s great.  I remember I loved going to all the Milford home games when I was in middle school too.  Well, we gotta go.

Second senior:  Yeah, bye little girl.

Exit two high school senior teenage boys.

Joan:  Did you hear that Uncle Charlie?  Little girl!

Uncle Charlie:  Don’t lose heart Joan.

Joan:  You know the problem with me?  I’ve got no feminine charm.   I’m just a dud.

Uncle Charlie:  Nonsense my dear. None of those was the right boy.  You wait, you’ll see when your young man comes along. Now on to the wax museum.  Once I introduce you to Mort, I want you to finish telling me about the strange noises and things going on at the Little Theatre.  I think if there really is anything going on there, he can be of help in solving the mystery.

Lighting shifts to a different part of the stage, where Cesar is seated at a bench as Ilinca enters.

Ilinca:  There you are, you good for nothing.  Where have you been all this time?

Cesar:  My darling, I have been here the whole time, I swear it.

Ilinca: Doing what, watching all the pretty girls go by?

Cesar:  I have watched not even a single one.  I have been sitting here listening.

Ilinca:  Listening, eh?  To what have you been listening for so long?  Is there some concert going on?  I hear nothing that could keep you here for so long just listening.

Cesar:  Shhh.  If you will just be quiet, I will explain everything to you.  Now, come, sit down beside me.  What I have to say will give you something to think about, then you will be glad I sit here for so long.

Ilinca:  Always you give me plenty to think about, but  never it makes me feel glad.  Always you give me  great big headache, chasing after the pretty girls.

Cesar:  Me?  I never chased after a one.

Ilinca:  No, never a one.  Maybe two or three or four! Who knows how many?

Cesar:  Ilinca, believe me, I never chase after the pretty girls.

Ilinca:  Aha!  So you admit you notice how pretty are all the girls!

Cesar:  Me?  No, I notice no such things.  All the girls look all the same to me:  no pretty, just all like, like my mother.

Ilinca:  Your mother is very beautiful woman.

Cesar:  Sure, but she is my mother, I no notice such a thing in my own mother.  That’s the way I see all the other girls. even if other people see pretty girl, I see just the same as my mother.

 

To be continued …

 

Copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery-comedy script. Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Bonita:    What a time to be dressed up as a gorilla.  Poor Mortimer.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, poor Mortimer.  It seems a sector of the dragnet reached the village of Milford just as trick or treating was in full swing.  Mortimer, I understand, had climbed a tree in order to re-enact the scene in which Mighty Joe Young rescues a child from a burning building.   Afterwards Mort told me he thought the boy he had selected was willingly helping him with the re-enactment by climbing up the tree in front of him so he could be rescued.

Bonita: Was the child trying to help Mortimer with his re-enactment?

Uncle Charlie:  No, the poor thing was frightened out of his wits.  Apparently he had never seen Mighty Joe Young,  he believed Mort was a real gorilla.  The boy  was climbing the tree to  escape.

Bonita:  Oh no.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh no is right, for that is the moment when the search party arrived.

Joan:  Oh no.  Did they –did they–?

Uncle Charlie:  I’m afraid they did.  The trooper, I am told was an expert marksman.  Mortimer went down on the first shot.

Bonita:  Oh, how terrible.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, and then as the crowd approached his still, silent body, lying on the cold, hard  ground, someone noticed the gap between his costume and his headpiece.  A brave person stepped forward, and to the astonishment and horror of all, removed the mask, revealing the face of poor, dear Mortimer.

Bonita:  How awful.

Uncle Charlie:  I am told several women went into hysterics, and strong men fainted.

Bonita:  Where did they shoot him?

Uncle Charlie:  Just over there, on Hickory Street.

Bonita:  No, I mean where, where did the shot hit him?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, as I said, the Trooper was an expert marksman.  He got Mortimer right in the fleshy part.

Lou:  The fleshy part?

Bonita:  What I think Uncle Charlie means Lou, is the behind.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right my dear,   you have found the mot juste: the behind.

Lou:  The behind?    Would that be anything like the derriere?

Uncle Charlie:  What’s this Lou?  La Belle Langue?

Lou: No Uncle Charlie, it’s French.  Remember I was telling you I know some French words?

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, French, of course.  My mistake.

Lou:  That’s okay Uncle Charlie, we all make mistakes.  Although I am a little surprised you didn’t know that derriere is  Frenchwhat with your bows and all.   I mean, everybody knows derriere, it’s practically the first thing they teach you in French class.

Uncle Charlie:  Practically the first thing, you say? I take it then that you have French as a foreign language class this semester.

Lou:  Me? No.  My friend Lenny is taking French.  He passes the important stuff on to me.

Uncle Charlie:  Your friend Lenny you say?

Lou:  That’s right.

Uncle Charlie:  Some day you must regale me with the full story of this linguistic wizard, but for now, let us resume our tale.

Bonita:   Uncle Charlie, I don’t understand, how did one shot in the fleshy part bring Mortimer down so suddenly?

Uncle Charlie:  Because of course they had dosed the tranquilizer dart for a four hundred pound adult male gorilla, when actually they were firing at  a one hundred and thirty pound teen-aged boy.

Bonita:  Oh, a dart!   Uncle Charlie, I wished you would have made that clear from the beginning.

Uncle Charlie:  Didn’t I child?  My dear, I am sorry.  Of course it was just a dart, and dear old Mortimer was right as rain again in a few days.

Lou:  I bet he gave up on making such real looking costumes after that.

Uncle Charlie:  To the contrary Lou, when Mortimer thought about how so many people had been convinced he was a real gorilla, even trained veterinary professionals and the State Troopers,  he realized he had a special gift.  Mortimer turned his gift into a  trade, and after going away to study chemistry for a few years, started his very own wax museum.

Lou:  Did you say your friend Mort studied chemistry, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  I did.

Lou:  Is he good at it?

Uncle Charlie:  Mort is, I am fairly certain, a genius at chemistry, among other things.

Lou:  Oh boy, maybe I can get him to help me with my homework.  That stuff is hard.

Bonita:  So Uncle Charlie, when you say  a wax museum, do you mean with life- sized figures of famous people?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s the kind.

Lou:  People like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes.

Bonita:  And Julius Caesar and Cleopatra?

Uncle Charlie: Yes.

Huntz:  And Louis Armstrong ?

Joan: And Amelia Earhart?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s it, exactly.

Huntz:  Oh boy, I would love to see that.  It’s too bad your friend Mort moved away.

Uncle Charlie:  Who said anything about Mortimer moving away?

Huntz:  Didn’t you just tell us he started his own wax museum with all those live-sized replicas of famous people?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes I did.

Huntz:  Well then he must have moved away;  there was never anything like that around here.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course there was, and is, Huntz.  Haven’t you ever heard of the Milford Wax Museum?

Huntz:  Milford Wax Museum?   I never heard of such a place.  Where is this wax museum?

Uncle Charlie:  It’s right over there, across Main Street.

Huntz:  I don’t  remember ever seeing a wax museum on Main Street.

Uncle Charlie:  You’re not alone, Huntz.  The fact is, most people don’t know of its existence either.  Besides his talent as an artist with make-up and wax, Mortimer is also possessed of a very peculiar gift — a gift of camouflage, or, illusion.

Joan:  Illusion?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, Mortimer somehow manages to make his wax museum seem invisible to the casual passer-by.

Lou:  Invisible?  You mean like the Invisible Man?  How does he do that?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s a mystery, Lou.  I only know that he does.  Many is the time I’ve caught myself walking right past Morts wax museum without even seeing it.  I sometimes  get a chill wondering how he does it.  Very mysterious.

Huntz:  Uncle Charlie, you have to show us this place.

Lou:  Are you kidding, Huntz ?  That place sound creepy.

Joan:  And eerie.

Uncle Charlie:  Does it to you?  But of course you’ve never been there.  I have been through Mort’s wax museum many times, and I find it neither creepy, nor eerie, just mysterious.

Lou:  I’ll take mysterious and leave it alone.

Uncle Charlie: You mean you are not interested in seeing the Milford Wax Museum?

Lou:  What, a place that disappears right here on Main Street?  You bet I’m not interested.   What if it disappears when we’re inside?

Uncle Charlie:  It doesn’t disappear Lou.  Like I said a moment ago, it simply seems invisible, but it’s right there the whole time.  We’ll all be perfectly safe.

Lou:   Sure, sure, perfectly safe in an invisible wax museum.  And  another thing I just thought of:  I bet he even has a chamber of horrors in there.  All those wax museums have a chamber of horrors.

Uncle Charlie:  You mean with wax figures of those monsters?

Lou:  Yeah, Frankenstein’s monster, and the Wolf-man, and Dracula.

Uncle Charlie:  I must be truthful with you Lou, he has all of those, and more.

Lou:   You’re not getting me into any wax museum with guys like the Frankenstein monster and the Wolf-man and Dracula inside.

Uncle Charlie:  But then you will miss seeing the Bride of Frankenstein that Mort completed just last year, she is stunning, and life-like,  if that term applies in this case, to the finest detail.  I am told that in the right light, and if a person is the least bit imaginative, Mort’s figures  actually appear to move.

Lou:  To move?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, to move.  One friend told me that as he walked past the figure of the Wolf-man he could have sworn he felt a hairy hand, or a paw upon his shoulder.  Another friend said that once, as he was looking at  Dracula, he could  feel the vampire’s eyes boring in to his own, then, as he hurried away, he could feel the flutter of bats wings practically bush his face in the darkness.

Lou:  That does it!  Chemistry homework or no chemistry homework, I’m not going into any wax museum that has hairy hands that grab you, and vampire eyes, and bats and who knows what else!

Uncle Charlie:  But Lou, wait until you hear this:  Last time I saw Mort he was working  on a new project for the gallery, but he was keeping it’s identity a secret.  Don’t you want to find out what it is?

Lou:  No thank you, I’ve had enough.  Between the strange things going on at the Little Theatre, and Halloween just around the corner, I don’t need any life-like monsters to help  keep me  awake at night.  I’m doing that right now all by myself.

Uncle Charlie: Suit yourself Lou, but you’ll be missing out on a great experience.

 

To be continued. . .

 

Copyright  2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

Campfire Creepers 3–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 5r)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

Click here to start at Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

 

Uncle Charlie:  Well spoken, Huntz.  Now, if you and Bonita will allow me to proceed without revisiting the tale of the vacuum cleaner and the locket, I would like to make sure I understood something Joan said a few moments ago about the middle school play.    Lou are you not helping with the play this year?  I thought you liked the theatre.

Lou:  I like it okay as long as I’m onstage or in the booth, but I don’t like being backstage at the Little Theatre during rehearsal.  It’s too dark.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, come on Lou, with all those kids around ?  You aren’t seriously frightened in the dark at the Little Theatre.

Lou:  It’s not just that I’m scared of the dark.  It’s getting pretty close to Halloween and I can’t  help thinking about monsters and things whenever I’m alone.  Besides that, there are other things.

Uncle Charlie:  Other things?  What other things, Lou?

Lou:  Strange noises for one thing.

Uncle Charlie:  It seems I remember there are always strange noises backstage during rehearsal and set building.

Bonita: This is different, Uncle Charlie, and it’s more than just noises too.

Uncle Charlie:  Like some of Lou’s vivid imagination, perhaps. And you’ve got it too, Bonita?  Tell me which monsters you’ve been thinking about, Lou?

Lou:  Usually the Frankenstein monster, or the Wolfman, or Dracula.

Uncle Charlie:  Hmm, the classics.    Do  the kids still dress up as those  characters at Halloween?

Lou:  Oh sure,  every year I  see a lot of vampires, a Frankenstein monster or two, plus the occasional werewolf.  There are some new ones though, that aren’t based on monsters.  I know this one guy who’s dressing up as  a gorilla this year.

Uncle Charlie:  You’ve just reminded me of a friend of mine.  When we were both about your age, he dressed up as a gorilla.  Are any of you familiar with the motion picture Mighty Joe Young?

Joan: Isn’t that the one about the girl  who gets talked into bringing a giant gorilla back  to the states with her by a promoter or something?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s the one.  Well, Mortimer, that’s my friend’s name, though he usually went by Mort,  Mortimer had a real affinity for that gorilla Joe, practically hero worship, so I suppose it’s no surprise that he dressed up as a gorilla for Halloween that year.  His costume was all homemade and most convincing.  Mortimer was already adept at making things out of old discarded items, and doing all kinds of special effects with stage make up and such.  He put together the fur covering of the gorilla from worn out women’s coats, and in the dark on Halloween night, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between my friend Mort and a real gorilla.

Huntz:  Really, it was that good?

Uncle Charlie:  Well, so I was told.  You see, I never actually witnessed  Mortimer in character as Mighty Joe Young on Halloween night.  I was bobbing for apples and drinking cider at your Aunt Elizabeth’s parents house that night, so all of my information is purely second-hand.  But I did see him try it out in the daytime on the thirtieth.  Yes, he was very convincing.

Bonita:  It sounds like you friend Mortimer must have been the hit of Halloween that year.

Uncle Charlie:  I suppose he would have been, if that circus hadn’t been passing through the area.

Lou: Circus?  There was a circus here in Milford?

Uncle Charlie:  In Highland to be precise.  Their caravan had stopped in front of  Highland Junior High School due to mechanical trouble with one of the trucks.   During the stop, their gorilla, King Conga, I believe was his name, escaped.

Huntz:  Did he break out by bending the bars of his cage?

Uncle Charlie:  No.  I was informed that King Conga was a highly trained and very intelligent gorilla;  he distracted his keeper by throwing banana peels up on the sidewalk to the school.  Every time the keeper would come back with an empty peel, the gorilla would toss another peel further up the sidewalk.  Finally, when he put one practically right on the front step, and while the keeper was going to retrieve it, the gorilla slipped his lock and made good his escape.  As his good fortune would have it, he almost immediately discovered a skateboard that had been left there by a careless student earlier in the day.  Upon his return to the cage, the keeper was stunned to find it empty, and as he ran to the front of the truck to alert the others to the missing gorilla, he saw King Conga riding south on John Street, still eating bananas and strewing the peels as he went. Well, the keeper raced after Conga on foot, but the gorilla already had a considerable head start, and was making good speed on the skateboard.  By the time the keeper reached Livingston Road, the banana trail ended.  In the dark, it was impossible for him to tell whether the gorilla had gone east or west on Livingston, but the keeper later told reporters that he was almost certain King Conga stuck out his left arm to signal a turn before he disappeared in the darkness, in which case the gorilla  would seem to have turned east on Livingston.

Lou:  Wait a minute!  Wait a minute!

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: You say there was a gorilla riding a skateboard down John Street in Highland?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, Lou.

Lou:  And he rode all the way down to Livingston, and then signaled for a left turn on Livingston?

Uncle Charlie:  You follow the narrative precisely.

Lou:  And you expect us to believe that?

Uncle Charlie:  You think he turned off on Ruggles?  I find that highly unlikely, remember the trail of banana peels–

Lou:  Okay, okay, never mind.  So the gorilla turned east of Livingston Road.  What happened next?

Uncle Charlie:  The circus people notified the local authorities, who  hurriedly organized  search parties consisting of trained veterinary specialists, local police, the Oakland County sheriff, and even  the State Police.    It was on the radio and everything, very big news for our little community.  I remember hearing the broadcast announcement just as I came up soaking wet with an apple in my mouth.  “Police mount dragnet to search for escaped gorilla in Highland.  Animal last seen heading in general direction of Milford.  Trick-or-treaters advised to use extra caution, and avoid large, hairy characters.”

to be continued . . .

Click here to read Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum part 6 (Campfire Creepers 3)

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Mystery -comedy script. Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

 

Uncle Charlie:  Joan, Joan, I must apologize, for I don’t think I made myself sufficiently clear a moment ago.  What I meant to convey was that while I am sure this young man exists, in theory and in fact somewhere, I am not however aware of his identity nor of his particular presence nearby at this  moment.

Joan:  Oh, so you don’t know who he is?

Uncle Charlie:  I am sorry dear, no.

Joan:  Oh well, thanks anyway Uncle Charlie.  It’s just like I said before, no boy ever gives me a second look.

Uncle Charlie:  Nonsense Joan, your young man is just shy, like Lou is with Emily.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, and he’s probably someone you see everyday at school, and you have no clue he has a crush on you, like Lou.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right.  Why I wouldn’t be surprised if any day now he finally gets the nerve and walks up to you and speaks.

Joan:  Like Lou?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, like Lou.

Joan:  I don’t know if I want to be gargled at, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  Not exactly like Lou my dear, just in principle.  Perhaps your young man is not a gargler.   For all we know, he may be a goggler.

Joan:  A what?

Uncle Charlie:  A goggler;  one who goggles.  To goggle: to stare with bulging or wide open eyes.  While Webster’s doesn’t comment on this specific, I always think of a goggler as being speechless while goggling.  Certainly you’ve seen that look:  the bulging, blank eyes, the dumb expression, the sagging jaw, the gaping mouth.  That’s the look of a shy young man gazing upon his adored object.  Surely you’ve seen that look on some boys face Joan.

Joan:  I don’t know Uncle Charlie,  goggling sounds almost as bad as gargling.  Do you suppose there’s a nice boy out there somewhere who would just be able to talk?

Uncle Charlie:  Of course there is dear.  I must bend my mind to this matter to help you from being discouraged.   A change of subject is what I need for the moment.   Tell me what else has been going on in your lives.

Joan: Bonita and Huntz and I are helping out with the middle school play.

Lou: Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: What are you doing with that?

Uncle Charlie:  This?  The vacuum cleaner?

Lou:  Yes.  Why are you carrying a vacuum cleaner around downtown Milford?

Mill Valley Vacuum and Sewing. Main Street, Milford, MI

Uncle Charlie:  Well I have to take it to Max to have it serviced.

Lou:  Max?  Who’s Max.

Uncle Charlie:  Max is the man who owns the vacuum shop here in Milford.   Your Aunt Elizabeth  asked me to take it to him to have it fixed.  She can’t stand the terrible noise.

Lou:  This fellow Max, he makes a terrible noise?

Uncle Charlie:  No Lou!  The vacuum cleaner makes a terrible noise.  I’m taking it, the vacuum cleaner, to him,  Max, so he can find out why it’s making the noise and fix it.

Lou:  Okay.  I get it. The vacuum cleaner is making a terrible noise and you are taking it to get it fixed.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right.  Now Joan, you were saying–

Lou:  Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes  Lou?

Lou:  It looks like something is about to fall out of your pocket.

Uncle Charlie:  Thank you Lou.  I wouldn’t want to loose that.

Lou;  What is it, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  What, this?  This is a locket.  Your Aunt Elizabeth asked me to take it to Charlie to have it repaired.

Lou:  Now let me get this straight:  you’re taking that locket in your pocket to have it repaired by Charlie, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, that’s right.

Lou:  Joan, I think something has upset Uncle Charlie, he’s talking about himself in the third person.

Uncle Charlie:  No, I’m all right Lou.  I’m not Charlie.  Charlie is the jeweler to whom I’m taking the locket.

Lou: You’re not Charlie, Uncle Charlie?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right Lou.

Lou:  Joan, I think you better stay with Uncle Charlie while I go for help.

Uncle Charlie:  No Lou, Charlie is not me.  I’m you’re Uncle Charlie.  Charlie is an entirely different person.

Lou:  Now he thinks he’s two different people.  Oh, poor Uncle Charlie.  Wait till Aunt Elizabeth hears about this.

Charlie’s Jewelry Creations, Main Street, Milford, MI

Joan:  Lou, I think what Uncle Charlie is trying to say is that there is another man, also named Charlie, and that man is the jeweler to whom our Uncle Charlie is going to take Aunt Elizabeth’s locket to be repaired.  Isn’t that right Uncle Charlie?

 

Uncle Charlie:  Exactly, my dear.

Lou:  Oh, is that it?  Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, if only I had made myself clear from the beginning.  Ah, here are your cousins now.

Enter Bonita and Huntz.

Uncle Charlie:  You two are just in  time .

Bonita:  Hello everybody,  I hope we didn’t keep you waiting.

Huntz:  Yeah, sorry we’re a little late.  What are we just in time for, Uncle Charlie, is something the matter?

Uncle Charlie: Nothing the matter, Huntz, it’s just  your arrival is very timely in preventing me from being pulled deeper into a dizzying verbal vortex of confusion.

Huntz:  Say that again, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  To put it another way, I am practically reeling from the linguistic contortions that accompany any attempt to carry on a conversation with Lou and Joan.

Huntz:  You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves.  Show me the bruises Uncle Charlie.  If only I had some liniment, I could give you a nice rub down.

Bonita:  Huntz, Uncle Charlie said contortions, not contusions.

Huntz:  Contortions?  You mean like those people who twist their bodies up like a pretzel?

Bonita:  That’s right.

Huntz:  Uncle Charlie, I didn’t know you were a contortionist.

Uncle Charlie:  I am not a contortionist Huntz.  I was speaking figuratively about mental contortions.

Huntz:  Mental contortions?  Oh, I get it:  confused, twisted, and seemingly pointless reasoning as the result of a misapprehension of  a word or phrase.

 

to be continued . . .

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three– Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

 

Joan:  A bow?

Uncle Charlie:  That’s right, a beau.  Oh, I don’t mean to embarrass you and put you on the spot like this.  I just thought maybe you or Bonita might be able to give Lou some advice to help him ease into speaking to this young lady.  Put it out of your mind dear, I’ll just wait for Bonita.

Joan:  You don’t have to wait for Bonita, Uncle Charlie.  I can help.

Uncle Charlie:  You mean you have a beau?

Joan:  One bow?  Heck, I’ve got two.

Uncle Charlie:  Two At the same time?

Joan:  Sure.  One bow doesn’t do a girl much good.

Uncle Charlie:  No?

Joan: No.  I’d look pretty silly walking around with just one bow, wouldn’t  I?

Uncle Charlie:  Would you?

Joan:  Sure.  A girl in high school has to think about these things.    She can’t just run around with bubble gum in her hair and marker on her face and just one bow like she could in middle school.

Uncle Charlie:  She can’t?

Joan:  Of course not.  I made that mistake my freshman year, but I’ve got it figured out now.

Uncle Charlie:    Let me make sure I have this straight, Joan.  You have not one beau, but two, both at the same time, simultaneously?

Joan:  That’s right.

Uncle Charlie:  Do they know about each other?

Joan:  That’s kind of an odd question Uncle Charlie.  I don’t think they know anything.

Uncle Charlie: You don’t think they know anything?  How can you make such a statement?

Joan:    After all,  they’re  just a couple of inanimate objects.

Uncle Charlie:  Inanimate objects!  Joan, I am surprised at you.

Joan:  Why Uncle Charlie?  Mom always taught me not to be materialistic about things.

Uncle Charlie:  Not materialistic about things?  Joan, a beau is not a thing.

Joan:  It is according to Mother.

Uncle Charlie:  Your mother, my sister, said that?  What else did she teach you?

Joan:  Mom taught me plenty.  The first thing  you’ve got to learn is how to wrap the little buggers around your finger.

Uncle Charlie:  Wrap them around your finger!?

Joan:  Sure, otherwise how do you expect them to behave?

Uncle Charlie:  To behave!  Like they were an obedient dog or a trained circus seal!

Joan:  Hardly like that Uncle Charlie, but if they don’t stay in their place, honestly, what good are they?

Uncle Charlie:  What good are they?  Joan, my dear, please tell me that you don’t mean to say a beau has no intrinsic value to you.

Joan:  Of course it does Uncle Charlie, as long as it stays in its place.  But Mom also taught me not to get too attached to them, and not to get upset if  one breaks.

Uncle Charlie:  If one breaks?  Of course you’re speaking figuratively my dear, as in breaking one of your beaux hearts.

Joan:  That’s a good one Uncle Charlie.  A bow hasn’t got any heart.

Uncle Charlie;  No brain and no heart!  What is the younger generation coming to?

Joan:  We’re thrifty Uncle Charlie.   Mom taught me that too. You’ll like this:  she said if one breaks that I should put it with the other one, tie ’em both together, and make two smaller bows so I’ll learn not to be so rough on the next pair.

Uncle Charlie:  On the next pair!  You’d think you were talking about shoe laces.

Joan:  I am taking about shoe laces Uncle Charlie.  What did you think I was talking about?

Uncle Charlie:  You were talking about shoelaces?   Shoelaces. Of course, then it all makes sense.  You see, Joan, the word beau I  was using is a French word, —

Lou: Uncle Charlie, I know some French words.  Would you like to hear them?

Uncle Charlie:  Later perhaps Lou, I am trying to explain something to Joan.  As I was saying Joan, beau  is a French word meaning boyfriend.  I assumed you also knew , so when you started talking about your bows, I mistakenly thought  —

Joan:  Uncle Charlie!  Don’t tell me you  thought that  when I was talking about wrapping my shoelaces around my finger,  you thought I was telling you how I treat my boyfriend?

Uncle Charlie:  Two boyfriends.

Joan:  Two?  Imagine that, a spare.

Uncle Charlie:  Of course it was all just a silly misunderstanding.

Joan:   Silly?  It’s ridiculous, I mean,  I’m not greedy.  I would settle for just one.

Uncle Charlie:  Naturally —

Joan:  On second thought,  a spare boyfriend might  come in handy in case the first one gives me the slip, I mean, in case I break up with the first one.  Wait a minute, who am I kidding?  Me, talking about boyfriends, when none of the boys in school as so much as given me a second look.

Uncle Charlie:  I’m sure you must be mistaken about that my dear.

Joan:  I don’t think so Uncle Charlie. I keep trying to catch just one at it, but no luck.

Uncle Charlie:  Still, I’m positive that right now there exists some young man who’s been giving you plenty of second looks.

Joan:  Really, right now?  Don’t let him get away.  Lou, how does my hair look?

Lou:  Your hair looks fine.

Joan:  Really, you’re not just saying that?

Lou: Why would I just say that?  Your hair looks fine.  It looks like your hair always looks.

Joan:  But my hair always looks a mess.

Lou:  What do I know  about fine hair from hair that’s a  mess?  I don’t pay much attention to your hair.

Joan:  I’ll bet you pay attention to Emily’s hair.

Lou:  Ah, but Emily is Emily, and you are my cousin.

Joan:  Of all the times to be stuck with an uncle and a boy cousin.  Oh, if only Bonita were here already. What a girl needs at a moment like this  is reinforcements.

 

To be continued …

Click here to read Campfire Creepers 3: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum(part 4)

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three: Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 1)

Uncle Charlie:  Always a pleasure Lou. But now enough about these other young women.  Tell me about your Emily.

Lou:  Uncle Charlie!

Uncle Charlie:  Yes Lou?

Lou: What you just said.

Uncle Charlie:  What I just said?

Lou:  Yes.  It was music to my ears.

Uncle Charlie:  Ah, you mean ‘tell me about your Emily’?

Lou: That’s it! Say it again please, Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie;  Very well.  Tell me about your Emily.

Lou:  Thank you.

Uncle Charlie: Well?

Lou: Well what?

Uncle Charlie:  Aren’t you going to tell me about her?

Lou:  Didn’t I already tell you that she’s sweet and doesn’t laugh at me and is a cutie-pie, and oh, did I mention that I think she’s wonderful?  My greatest dream right now is to take her to the homecoming dance.

Uncle Charlie:  She sounds like a wonderful girl Lou.  How does she feel about you?

Lou: I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:  You don’t know?  Well then, what was her response when you asked her to the dance?

Lou:  I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:   You mean you haven’t asked her?

Lou: No.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, I get it, cold feet.

Lou:  How’s that?

Uncle Charlie:  I said ‘cold feet’.

Lou: Oh, cold feet?  I don’t know.

Uncle Charlie:  What do you mean you don’t know?

Lou:  Well, I mean, I’ve hardly even spoken to Emily, and I would feel kind of silly asking her to take her shoes off.

Uncle Charlie:  Not her feet, Lou, yours!  Cold feet is an expression that means you lost your nerve .

Lou: Oh, lost your nerve is cold feet?  I think I’ve got cold body.  I don’t even think I ever had the nerve to tell Emily how much I like her to lose it in the first place.

Uncle Charlie:  I’m sure that makes sense somehow, if we only had the time to figure it out.  You say you have at least spoken to her?

Lou:  Yes, well, I guess you could say I have.

Uncle Charlie:  Hmm, you guess I could.  What did you say?

Lou: Not much.

Uncle Charlie:  Did you tell her your name?

Lou: I tried, but I had a little trouble.

Uncle Charlie: What exactly did you say?

Lou:  I think it was something like Urk.

Uncle Charlie: Uk?

Lou:  No, Urk.

Uncle Charlie:  You tried to tell her your name and all you said was Urk?  How do you get Urk from Lou?

Lou:  I’m not sure, Uncle Charlie, but I think the L kind of got stuck in my throat, did a back flip and came out the other side as an rk.

Uncle Charlie:  So does this girl even know your name?

Lou:  Oh sure, she’s heard the teacher call on me.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s a start at least.  And does Emily ever talk to you?

Lou:  Does she!  Her voice is like the voice of an angel.  Her words are like music from heaven.

Uncle Charlie:  Now we’re getting somewhere.  What does this angelic voice say to you?

Lou:  Well, one day she say ‘Hi Lou”, and another time she said ‘How are you today?’. Oh, and wait till you hear this, just the other day she told me she thought I gave a good answer when the teacher called on me in class.

Uncle Charlie:  That’s pretty strong stuff, I can see why you’re all a twitter.  But from what I can tell you’re leaving this poor girl to do all the talking.  You say you haven’t been able to tell her your name, but have you at least been able to speak her name?

Lou:  You mean Emily?

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, Emily.

Lou:  I just spoke it just now.

Uncle Charlie:  Yes, but that’s to me.  What about to her?  Does she sit near you in your class together?

Lou:  Yes.  Emily and I sit right next to each other.  Sometimes our desks practically touch.

Uncle Charlie:  Fine then.  I want you to pretend that you are sitting at your desk in class, and that I am Emily and I am sitting at my desk right next to yours.

Lou:  With our desks practically touching?

Uncle Charlie: More than that Lou, with our desks actually touching.  Now remember, we’re pretending that I am Emily, and I want you to look at me and speak my name, just like you would in class to the real Emily.

Lou:  Okay, here goes, just like I would say to the real  E-grgglee. . .

Uncle Charlie:  Try that again Lou, I didn’t quite get it.

Lou: Grggle. . .s.s.s.(hic. . .hic)

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, this is fine.  You two would make  quite a couple at the homecoming dance.  All you can say is Urk and make gargling noises.  Your ability to carry on a conversation with this poor girl will be severely limited, unless by some chance she speaks cave-man.

Lou:  I’m sorry Uncle Charlie.  Maybe I’m just hopeless.

Uncle Charlie:  Never give up hope, my boy.  There must be some way to help you with this debilitating shyness.  What we need is the feminine perspective on this.  Joan, do either you or Bonita  have a beau?

 

To be continued. . .

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three–Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part 3)

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (Act One, part 1)

Get some chills and laughs, inspired by the classic horror and comedy-mystery films of the past. Fun for all ages. Grab a part, break a leg, and ham on!

Cast of Characters:

Uncle Charlie,

Four cousins:

Joan,  niece of Uncle Charlie, a student at Milford High School

Lou , nephew of Uncle Charlie, also a student at MHS

Bonita, niece of Uncle Charlie, student at MHS

Huntz, nephew of Uncle Charlie, student at MHS

Cesar:  a handsome young  (mid-twenties) visitor from Carpathian Mountains

Ilinca, betrothed to Cesar, attractive young (early to mid-twenties), high -spirited woman from Carpathian Mountains.

Grigore (Uncle Grigore),  uncle of Ilinca

Mort (Mortimer), childhood friend of Uncle Charlie.  Artistic and chemical genius, owner of mysterious Milford Wax Museum. 

The Professor, Sinister man behind the plot.

Plamen, frightening henchman of the Professor.

 

Setting:  The gazebo in Center Street Park in Milford MI.  Daytime , early autumn.  Uncle Charlie, Lou and Joan.  Uncle Charlie is holding an upright vacuum cleaner.

Uncle Charlie:  Imagine running into you two like this.  I wonder if Bonita and Huntz are around her somewhere, perhaps looking for Pokémon, like all these other people?

Joan:  They should be around any minute.  We told Bonita and Huntz we would meet them here at the gazebo.

Uncle Charlie:  Well then, what shall we do when the gangs all here?  I have a few moments between errands.  Tell me, what has been going on with you two since our last get together at the corn roast?

Joan:  You know, Uncle Charlie, same old thing:  another school year.

Uncle Charlie: Ah,  a fresh year to start learning anew!

Lou:  And homework.

Joan:  New classes, new teachers, catching up with old friends.

Uncle Charlie:  Picking up the threads with old acquaintances, making new ones–

Lou:  And homework.

Joan:  Then there’s the choir.  We’re just getting started, but there are a lot of concerts and other events throughout the year.  It’s going to be very busy.

Uncle Charlie:  Ah, the wonderful, wide spectrum of the performing arts: vocal music, the theatre, the band;  the spectacle of the marching band performing during halftime, or marching down this very street  for the Thanksgiving Parade;the intellectual rigors of debate, the science clubs and competitions;  the vast range of the athletic arena: the gridiron, the court, the diamond to name but a few, the heroic efforts, the thrilling victories, the heartbreaking defeats–

Lou: The homework.

Uncle Charlie:  Lou, you seem to have a one track mind.

Lou:  I don’t have a one track mind Uncle Charlie.

Uncle Charlie:  My dear nephew, the whole time Joan has been telling me all about the many things going on in her sophomore year of high school,  all you have been able to contribute to the conversation is  ‘homework’.  If that isn’t a one track mind, I’d like to know what is.  What is this strange obsession you have with homework, aren’t you  getting enough?

Lou: Not getting enough!  Are you kidding?  Everyday I take my homework to school with me.  I drop the homework off with my teachers in each one of my classes.  I always feel  kind of sad because I worked so hard on it, but I tear myself away and say bye-bye to the homework and I start to feel pretty good, but then every day when I leave school to go home–BAM– I’ve got more homework.  I just can’t seem to shake it.

Uncle Charlie:  Lou, am I to understand that you think you have too much homework?

Lou:  Uncle Charlie, you never spoke a truer word.

Uncle Charlie:  Why Lou, I’m surprised at you.  Homework is like the pick and shovel to the goldmine of knowledge that rewards those who work for it.  Imagine yourself as a prospector–

Lou: A what?

Uncle Charlie:  A prospector.  Prospector.  You know what a prospector is, don’t you?

Lou:  Sure, Uncle Charlie.  A prospector is the guy who stands in front of the judge and jury and tries to prove the guy on trial  did it.

Uncle Charlie:  No, no, that’s a prosecutor.

Lou: I thought prosecutor was a kind of  ham.

Uncle Charlie:  No, that’s prosciutto.

Lou: Pros – what now?

Uncle Charlie:  Prosciutto.  Prosciutto.

Lou: Gazoontyke.

Uncle Charlie:  I didn’t sneeze.  I was trying to tell you the name of that ham.

Lou:  Oh yeah.  What was it again?

Uncle Charlie: Prosciutto.

Lou: Can you spell that?

Uncle Charlie:  Let’s see. P as in pineapple, R as in rosebud, O as in ostrich, S as in sasquatch, C as in cutie–

Lou: Is cutie a real word?

Uncle Charlie:  Alright then, cute, cutie, cutie-pie, take you pick.  Now where was I?  Ah yes, I as in incoherent, U as in unintelligible–

Lou: That reminds me of a girl.

Uncle Charlie:  Incoherent, or unintelligible?

Lou:  No, what you said before that.

Uncle Charlie:  Sasquatch reminds you of a girl?

Lou;  No, in between.  Cute, cutie, cutie-pie, take you pick.

Uncle Charlie:  Oh, I see.  There is a certain young lady to whom you are particularly attracted?

Lou: Yeah, and I think she’s sweet too.  And you know what else?  She’s about the only girl in school who doesn’t seem like she’s about to bust out laughing every time she looks at me.

Uncle Charlie:  What do you do to elicit such a reaction from the rest of the female contingent of your school?

Lou:  Nothing!  That’s just it.  Emily, that’s her name, Emily is the only girl in the school who takes me seriously.  She’s almost  the only one who doesn’t make me feel the biggest, dumbest dope in the whole place.

Uncle Charlie:  Possibly Lou you are being over critical of the other young ladies’  opinion of you.

Lou:  You think so Uncle Charlie?  Boy, I sure hope so.  Some days it’s awful hard to go to school when you feel  like you’re just a big jerk.

Uncle Charlie:  But you’re not a big jerk Lou.  You know that.

Lou:  Yeah, I know. Thanks for reminding me,  Uncle Charlie.

 

To be continued . . .

 

Click here to read Campfire Creepers Three– Mystery at the Milford Wax Museum (part2)

 

 

copyright 2017 r.k.morris