COMEDIC MALE MONOLOGUES

The Crowd You’re in With by Rebecca Gilman

TYPE: Young adult/teen, annoyed, easily agitated
CHARACTER: Dwight

I’m a waiter, right? The people with the kids come in, and it’s one of two things. Either they bring
a whole refrigerator’s worth of food with them, in these little Tupperware containers, or they
don’t bring anything. Both suck equally. If they bring in the food, it’s like, they hand you a
Tupperware full of some sort of mush and they ask you to take it back to the kitchen and put it in
the microwave for thirty-six seconds, like you have nothing else to do and, like, there’s a fucking
microwave in the kitchen, which there isn’t. So you take it back and throw it under a warming
lamp, for, like, two minutes, then you bring it back and they stick their finger in the mush and
they ask you, “Could you warm it up for eleven more seconds?” And while they wait, they open
Tupperware number two, which always has Cheerios in it. Always, always. Fucking Cheerios.
Which the kids -- they don’t eat the Cheerios. They throw the Cheerios. They spread the
Cheerios like seed, like they’re seeding the restaurant with little Cheerio trees. These people
leave their tables, and it’s like a goddamn cereal… PB and J.. booger… tsunami hit.

But if they don’t bring the food, it’s fucking torture the other way. “Could the kitchen make, like, a
bowl of plain pasta, with no sauce of any kind on it?” “Could he get a cheese pizza? But could
you scrape the cheese off before you bring it out” “Do you have, like, any kind of melon or fresh
fruit in the kitchen? Could you just bring us a little bowl of cut-up fruit? Oh. That’s a lot of fruit. Is
that the only size bowl you have?” “ Was this -- did you make a cheese pizza? Because you
have to make a cheese pizza and scrape off the cheese. If you didn’t put the cheese on at first,
then it’s just a sauce pizza, and he won’t eat it. He won’t eat that.” (Beat.) Eat this!

Here’s an idea: Next time, go to Applebee’s. There’s a menu there, for kids. It’s called a “kids’
menu.” Chicken fingers. Wieners in sauce. It’s on the fucking menu. Along with a word search
and a crazy maze. Here are your crayons. Go wild.

Peerless by Jiehae Park

TYPE: teen, awkward, goofy, geeky (Could wear glasses for this)
CHARACTER: D

“I could die tonight.

[...]
I’m at Hoopcoming
here
with the smartest and prettiest
Girl in the school

And her twin who is also the prettiest

Is here with my brother.
Who was too scared to ask anyone to Hoopcoming til I told him
You gotta lean into the fear
Lean into it hard
If you lean into it hard enough
Fast enough
“Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it”
[...]
That’s a quote I didn’t make that up it’s a quote I’m doing this course My biological dad signed
me up for this course And at first I was mad He invited me to his “graduation” which was kind of
his “graduation” but also kind of a “recruitment meeting” And I was kinda uncomfortable
With all these like grown ups with problems like drinking or dead children or no job But I figured
“what the hell”
It’s summer “what the hell”
Besides it was right after

Anyway
it changed me It did
It changed me
I didn’t use to see positive I didn’t use to see possible What I did use to see was fat and ugly
and fat arms and fat hands and bad skin and no dad and a brother with cystic fibrosis and ok at
school but probably a future alone choking to death on a pretzel in my mom’s basement
watching reruns of Cheers.”

Techies by Don Goodrum

TYPE: Teen/young adult, nervous wreck, frantic, manic
CHARACTER: Charlie Porter

Anthony, you have to help me! What am I going to do? Bonnie, my dear sweet Bonnie who
would never hurt a fly has abandoned me, cast me aside like an old doll—! My lines, Anthony!
You know how I am in a play, flying along one moment, focused with the razor-sharp intensity of
a laser and then poof! One errant down draft and I’m cast out of the nest, falling into a spiral of
—Bonnie used to help me, Anthony! She knew that my mind could betray me like snow on a
hot sidewalk, and so, with that phenomenal memory of hers, she would memorize my lines as
well as her own and feed mine to me under her breath whenever tragedy would strike! Not that
I would need it often, of course-but the idea of her, the security of her, waiting there, ready to lift
me up and help me to fly—

But Camille Curry, Anthony! The Diva of Death! The Eater of Actors, who devours her fellow
performers as if they were served on crackers with cheese…do you remember what she did to
Will Hooper two years ago, in As You Like It? He went blank in the middle of a beautiful little
soliloquy, but did Camille feed him a line? Did she help him find his way back on track? No.
She just smiled. And waited for him. For. Ten. Minutes. She held everyone else off the stage
by the sheer force of her Machiavellian will and just waited,
(Softer.)
watching as his psyche slowly crumbled, as his confidence broke down and his spark just…
went...out.

(He sniffs loudly, on the verge of tears.)

Heartbroken and shattered, William never returned to the stage. I heard he was working at
Chuck E. Cheese.
(Huge sob.)
As the squirrel... Anthony, don’t let Camille eat my soul! Please! You have to save me!