(Employee’s Monologue From “The Worker” by Walter Wykes)

All right, look ... I didn’t want to tell you, but I’ve fallen behind. At work. I can't keep up. Recently, they’ve ...
ahh ... they’ve let a few people go. They have me running the accounting department entirely by myself! I do
everything! The whole department! And that's not all! I'm also expected to take incoming calls because there's no
receptionist, and fix the computers because there's no tech department! I'm in charge of the mail room, the
cafeteria, janitorial services, research and development! Last week, human resources was let go, the whole
department, and I received a memo—which I’d actually typed myself because there's no secretary—instructing
me to familiarize myself with all applicable state and federal guidelines! Tomorrow, I'm supposed to start
mediating all employee disputes! I have no idea what I'm doing!

(Tony’s Monologue From “Rim of the World” by Trey Burnette)

I can’t wait to grow up and move out! I love my parents, but one thing I will never miss is the discipline.
You should see them sometimes. My favorite is when they try to get a rise out of me. But I don't let them
see how they make me feel. It makes them nuts. Like last week. Remember Eric's party. Raging! Most of
my friends didn't get home until dawn. Hey, most of them didn’t get home until daylight. I play the good
boy and come in at 2:30. Hey, I know my curfew's at 1:00. I know I'm late. I'm a teenager! I can tell time.
So, here they both come, trying to make it like it's some big deal. Completely ignoring the fact that I will
soon be moving out and will be an adult. Ok, so they say (imitating his father's voice) "Son, you are
grounded." Ha, what a shock, you know. So I say, "Ok." Now here is the great part. I give them this little
half smile. Not a smirk, you understand, because that would give them what they like to call "just cause".
Then I'd really get it. No, just a little smile, sort of a Mona Lisa kind of thing. It just kills them. They don't
know what the hell I'm thinking. So, even though I get punished...I win!

(Barbara’s Monologue)
My mother has this totally insane attitude about food. She eats like a bird—a hummingbird. For breakfast,
she’ll have a piece of dry toast and coffee. For lunch, a salad with no dressing. For dinner, a thimble-full of
chicken. It’s like her whole life is a diet, you know. When we go to a restaurant, she pulls out this little
booklet that tells you how many calories there are in food, how much fat, how many carbs and stuff.
Sitting down to eat with my mother is like sitting down at the table with a scientist. She analyzes
everything. And of course this means I have to eat rabbit food, too. The last time we had lunch, she
insisted I order a cucumber salad and a tomato stuffed with tuna. Oh yeah, and iced tea. Cucumbers and
iced tea. Real appetizing, huh? Puke-ola! This is why I try to avoid eating with her at all costs. Mom used
to be overweight. I guess this is the reason she*s flipped on diet. Because she’s a former fatty. She’s a
reformed food junkie. Which is okay to a point, all right? But she’s really taken the whole thing out of
sight. To the point where she’s paranoid about food. I’ll bet if you hid a Twinkie in her purse she’d have a
stroke.

(Monologue From “Hallmark Holiday” by Emily Picha)

Here we go again, Valentine's Day. The Hallmark holiday, the diamond dealer's wet dream, kitschy jewelry
from upscale department stores, red tea cozies, satin sheets. Last year I made a pact with myself that
someone would find me before the next Valentine's day. I imagined that I would be one half of that couple
staring into each other's eyes at the French restaurant. Hell, I even bought satin sheets at 50% off the
normal price. No option for returning. It was just me in purgatory with my red sheets until he found me. It
was taking a while, four months into the waiting I decided I needed to lose some weight, freshen up my
looks. So I power-walked through my neighborhood every day, a mile, two miles. One day I started even
running for part of it until I cramped up so bad that I was bent over in a gutter, swearing and choking on
my own liver or something. And that's when I thought, okay, I've gone my fifty percent, now he's got to
come his.