Waiting for Monster

Hairy Monster:
Looks like his last gasp to me.

Cookie Monster:
It's not certain. (Pause.) Ask him a question.

Hairy Monster:
Would that be a good thing?

Cookie Monster:
What do we risk?

Hairy Monster:
(timidly). Mister . . .

Cookie Monster:
Louder.

Hairy Monster:
(louder). Mister . . .

Little Purple Monster:
Leave him in peace! (They turn toward Little Purple Monster who, having finished eating, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.) Can't you see he wants to rest? Basket! (He strikes a match and begins to light his pipe. Hairy Monster sees the chicken bones on the ground and stares at them greedily. As Little Purple Monster does not move Little Purple Monster throws the match angrily away and jerks the rope.) Basket! (Little Purple Monster starts, almost falls, recovers his senses, advances, puts the bottle in the basket and goes back to his place. Hairy Monster stares at the bones. Little Purple Monster strikes another match and lights his pipe.) What can you expect, it's not his job. (He pulls at his pipe, stretches out his legs.) Ah! That's better.

Hairy Monster:
(timidly). Please Sir . . .

Little Purple Monster:
What is it, my good man?

Hairy Monster:
Er . . . you've finished with the . . . er . . . you don't need the . . . er . . . bones, Sir?

Cookie Monster:
(scandalized). You couldn't have waited?

Little Purple Monster:
No no, he does well to ask. Do I need the bones? (He turns them over with the end of his whip.) No, personally I do not need them any more. (Hairy Monster takes a step towards the bones.) But . . . (Hairy Monster stops short) . . . but in theory the bones go to the carrier. He is therefore the one to ask. (Hairy Monster turns towards Little Purple Monster, hesitates.) Go on, go on, don't be afraid, ask him, he'll tell you.

Hairy Monster goes towards Little Purple Monster, stops before him.

Hairy Monster:
Mister . . . excuse me, Mister . . .

Little Purple Monster:
You're being spoken to, pig! Reply! (To Hairy Monster.) Try him again.

Hairy Monster:
Excuse me, Mister, the bones, you won't be wanting the bones?

Little Purple Monster looks long at Hairy Monster.

Little Purple Monster:
(in raptures). Mister! (Little Purple Monster bows his head.) Reply! Do you want them or don't you? (Silence of Little Purple Monster. To Hairy Monster.) They're yours. (Hairy Monster makes a dart at the bones, picks them up and begins to gnaw them.) I don't like it. I've never known him to refuse a bone before. (He looks anxiously at Little Purple Monster.) Nice business it'd be if he fell sick on me!

He puffs at his pipe.

Cookie Monster:
(exploding). It's a scandal!

Silence. Flabbergasted, Hairy Monster stops gnawing, looks at Little Purple Monster and Cookie Monster in turn. Little Purple Monster outwardly calm. Cookie Monster embarrassed.

Little Purple Monster:
(To Cookie Monster). Are you alluding to anything in particular?

Cookie Monster:
(stutteringly resolute). To treat a man . . . (gesture towards Little Purple Monster) . . . like that . . . I think that . . . no . . . a human being . . . no . . . it's a scandal!

Hairy Monster:
(not to be outdone). A disgrace!

He resumes his gnawing.

Little Purple Monster:
You are severe. (To Cookie Monster.) What age are you, if it's not a rude question? (Silence.) Sixty? Seventy? (To Hairy Monster.) What age would you say he was?

Hairy Monster:
Eleven.

Little Purple Monster:
I am impertinent. (He knocks out his pipe against the whip, gets up.) I must be getting on. Thank you for your society. (He reflects.) Unless I smoke another pipe before I go. What do you say? (They say nothing.) Oh I'm only a small smoker, a very small smoker, I'm not in the habit of smoking two pipes one on top of the other, it makes (hand to heart, sighing) my heart go pit-a-pat. (Silence.) It's the nicotine, one absorbs it in spite of one's precautions. (Sighs.) You know how it is. (Silence.) But perhaps you don't smoke? Yes? No? It's of no importance. (Silence.) But how am I to sit down now, without affectation, now that I have risen? Without appearing to –how shall I say– without appearing to falter. (To Cookie Monster.) I beg your pardon? (Silence.) Perhaps you didn't speak? (Silence.) It's of no importance. Let me see . . .