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LOST BOYS SIDE TWO - ACT TWO. SCENE TWO.

[TOOTLES enters by stealth – carrying his bow and arrow]


TOOTLES: [with his eyes closed] I can shoot Hook. I know I can. I will and Peter will
tell me I’m brave.
[TOOTLES opens his eyes and HOOK has gone]
[TOOTLES sits, disheartened]
TOOTLES: If only I had a mother, she’d be able to tell me if I was brave.
[TINK appears – as a small, bright light]
TOOTLES: Tink! You’re back! What? A bird? Peter wants me to shoot a bird? Because
I’m the bravest? [TOOTLES looks up – then aims his bow and arrow up at the sky] I’ll
do it! I’ll shoot the bird!
[TOOTLES aims at the bird. TOOTLES shoots – the arrow soars high. TINK’s light flies
off]
TOOTLES: I hit it! I hit the bird! Tink, tell Peter, I hit the bird!
[WENDY comes tumbling to the ground and lands in a heap.]
TOOTLES: Tink? This doesn’t look like a bird. Tink? Where have you gone?
[TOOTLES goes close to WENDY and inspects her]
TOOTLES: I think I might have made a mistake.
[TOOTLES steps back in horror – then covers the bird up as best as he can.]
[CURLY and SLIGHTLY enter]
CURLY: Tootles! There you are. We waited for ages.
SLIGHTY: Ages and ages and – what’s that?
[TOOTLES tries to stand in front of WENDY]
TOOTLES: What’s what?
CURLY: That.
TOOTLES: What are you talking about?
CURLY: Tootles, why are you standing in front of something trying to pretend it’s not
there when it’s really big and white and we can all see it?
[CURLY rounds TOOTLES and takes the cover off WENDY’s face]
TOOTLES: It’s a white bird. Tink said that Peter said that I should shoot it and I did – I
shot it because I’m brave, ok? [All the boys peer at it] You should cheer, like when
Slightly hits something and we all cheer.
SLIGHTLY: This isn’t a bird.
CURLY: It’s a lady.
SLIGHTLY: Peter brought us a mother.
CURLY: And you shot it.
TOOTLES: Don’t say that. It’s not a mother.
[A crowing in the sky. PETER is home]
CURLY: Peter.
SLIGHTLY: Into formation. Ready for inspection.
TOOTLES: Hide it, please – help me hide it!
[The boys form a line to try and hide the WENDY. PETER arrives]
PETER: What’s the report, Slightly?
SLIGHTLY: Pirate fighting, we escaped, I think they’ve retired to the Jolly Roger.
CURLY: They’ll be back again.
TOOTLES: So, we should go straight to the Home under the Ground.
PETER: What’s that?
TOOTLES: Nice to see you, Peter.
[PETER spots WENDY – he goes to take the sheet off her face – the boys wince]
TOOTLES: Nothing.
PETER: It’s Wendy! You met her already? Why didn’t you say? Wake up Wendy – it’s
Peter – you’ve arrived you’re in Neverland [she isn’t moving] Wendy? [PETER shakes
her] Why isn’t she moving?
TOOTLES: She’s…dead.
[PETER stands up backs off]
PETER: Let’s go to the Home under the Ground and have a game of Bubble Ball. Last
one there is a loser!
SLIGHTLY: Peter?
CURLY: We can’t just –
TOOTLES: We should be sad and sorry.
[PETER spots an arrow next to WENDY]
PETER: Whose arrow is this?
TOOTLES: It’s mine. I shot the Wendy bird – but Tink told me to, I/
[/PETER in a rage picks up the arrow and is about to plunge it into TOOTLES chest –
TOOTLES takes it very bravely]
WENDY: No!
[Pause – the Lost Boys all turn and stare at WENDY. WENDY stares back]
WENDY: Hello.
SLIGHTY: Slightly, Slightly Soiled – delighted to make your acquaintance.
WENDY: You’re Slightly Soiled?
SLIGHTLY: Yes.
WENDY: Oh.
SLIGHTY: It said so on my bag when I arrived and thus, I am of the Soiled Family – the
last, no doubt, in a long line of impressive Soils. So as I am the only proper
gentleman, I should like to shake hands.
[SLIGHTLY shakes his hands at WENDY – sort of waggles them in her face]
WENDY: No - it’s like this and you say – ‘How do you do?’
[WENDY takes SLIGHTLY’s hand and shakes it properly. SLIGHTLY is a little concerned
that he’s been rumbled.]
SLIGHTLY: How do you do?
CURLY: I’m Curly and how do you do – how do you doo - how do you - [CURLY gets
overwhelmed and just gives WENDY a huge hug, puts her up on her feet then
smooths her out]. Sorry for squeezing so hard. You’re a very nice surprise.
TOOTLES: I’m Tootles. I’m sorry I shot you. I thought you were a bird.

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