47Two Minute Comedy

"Give us Two Minutes... We'll Give You Too"

A Series of Two Minute Comedy Sketches for short attention span theatre

Northern Post
A Two Minute Comedy

Timmy - 8
Bilbous - mail clerk
Fibeus - mail clerk
Kristov - postal employee

Timmy makes his way across stage holding a large white envelope in front of him.  He carries it with great purpose.  He stops at a ramshackle Post Office window, rises on tip toes and delivers the letter to Bilbous, the duty clerk. 

Timmy:  Please sir, I want to mail this letter to the North Pole. 

Bilbous: (surprised) Alright.  To the North Pole?  Let’s see now… We don’t get too much mail for the North Pole these days young man.

Timmy: It’s very important.  I spent a whole day writing it.

Bilbous: A whole day? 

Timmy: It took me four tries to do it with no mistakes.

Bilbous: Well, let’s see who we’re delivering to.  (reading) Ah ha, “To Mr. Santa Claus, at the North Pole, near Canada.” 

Timmy: It’s just one wish and it’s very important that Santa reads it as soon as possible.

Bilbous: Okay.  Now, to send it to the North Pole we’ll need to put eighty nine cents postage on the letter.  Do you have eighty nine cents young man?

Timmy: I have a dollar.  I will need eleven cents change and a receipt.

Timmy hands over the money.

Timmy: Are you sure it’ll go to the North Pole today?

Bilbous: Well, ah, yes it should go on the next truck. 

Timmy: You have a truck that goes to the North Pole?

Bilbous: (pause) We, go part way by truck, yes.

Timmy: And then what?

Bilbous: And then… It goes by air mail.

Timmy: You’ll make sure it gets there tomorrow?

Bilbous: Tomorrow?  I don’t think we can get it there that fast, son.

Timmy: (worried) But it’s very important.  Santa has to read it as soon as possible.

Bilbous: We’ll do our very best, young man. I going to put it on our North Pole desk right now.

Bilbous takes the letter and turns away.  Timmy watches doubtfully.  He crosses to a split door with a notice reading: Postal Employees Only.  He hesitates, tries the doorknob, the bottom half opens.  Timmy pauses, looks inside. 


Lights up on the post office back room.  Bilbous crosses the floor to Fibeus’ desk and drops the letter in front of him.  Fibeus frowns.

Fibeus: What the hell’s this?

Bilbous: What’s it look like?  A letter to the North Pole.

Fibeus: What do you want me to do with it?

Bilbous: I dunno.  Whatever you do with Santa letters.

Fibeus: I shred ‘em.

Bilbous: Okay.  Just make sure you cancel the stamp before you do.

Bilbous turns away, then stops.

Bilbous: Too bad.  The kid’s got his heart set on that letter.

He exits.  Fibeus picks up the letter and stares at it.  He pauses.  Takes out a knife and opens it.  He unfolds the contents and reads aloud.

Fibeus: Dear Santa… (pause) One thing I want you to know more than anything else in the world.  I miss my dad. 

Timmy suddenly rises up in front of him.

Timmy: Hey!  Why are you reading my letter?

Fibeus: (surprised) What?  Uh… What are you doing in here?  This area is off limits.

Timmy: Why are you reading my letter?

Fibeus: Uh, look little boy.  You shouldn’t be in here.

Timmy: That letter is for Santa Claus.  Not for you!

Fibeus: Yeah, ah… See kid what happens when we get letters to Santa is one of us… helpers reads the letter and then we tell Santa what he needs to know.

Timmy: Yeah?  You open someone else’s mail?  Isn’t that against the law?

Fibeus: (stares) Well, no.  See, we have special permission from Santa to read his mail for him.  Cause he gets so much and so many people want to talk to him.  Y’know?

Timmy: No.  I want Santa to read my letter.  That’s why I paid eighty nine cents to mail it to the North Pole.  You’re not at the North Pole.

Fibeus: But, how it works is Santa has trusted helpers.  Like me.  Santa is a very busy man which is why he relies on trusted helpers… like me.

Timmy: You don’t look like a helper.  How do I know you ever met Santa Clause?

Fibeus: (annoyed) Because I’m telling you, kid.  Santa does not read his own mail, okay?  He’s too damn busy!

Timmy: I’m gonna get my Mom.

Fibeus: (worried) Wait a minute!  Look… You gotto believe what I’m telling’ you kid.  (pause) I am the Victoria North Pole Section “head helper.”  Any requests for Santa are required to go through me.  He won’t talk to you, he won’t read anything from you, he won’t write anything to you - except through me.  Got it?

Timmy: (pause) You got any ID?

Fibeus: (fed up) Alright kid, that’s it.  Go on and get back to your mother.  I’ll put in a word with Santa when I see him.  If you behave and do what I say, he won’t give you a lump of coal Christmas Day.

Timmy: I don’t believe you.  I don’t believe what you’re saying.  I think you’re a fake.  I caught you opening Santa’s mail and now you’re trying to cover it up!

Fibeus: (threatening) Let’s go kid.  Don’t make me get rough with you.  (dark) Unless you want to know the truth about Santa Clause…

Kristov: (offstage) Excuse me,  Mr. Fibeus?

Fibeus freezes.  Kristov, wearing red suspenders and a white beard enters.  He crosses to Timmy and stands directly behind him.

Fibeus:  Who the hell are you?

Kris: (flashing badge) Kristov.  Postal Service IA.  Looking into mail fraud, Fibeus.

Fibeus: (nervous) Ah, now listen to me… This kid walked in here to a off limits section and been harassing…

Kristov: Save it, Fibeus.  (to Timmy) Son, look at me.  I work for Mr. Claus.  I’m going to seal up your letter, put it in my hip pocket and when I see him tomorrow afternoon - I’ll hand it to him personally.  Okay?

Timmy: The man says Santa won‘t read my letter. 

Kristov: He reads everything written to him, Timmy.  And he listens to anyone who calls him.

Timmy: (doubtful) Can I see the real Santa Claus?

Kristov: Sure you can.  Anytime you see the spirit of giving - you see the spirit of Santa Claus, son.  (pause) Let’s go find your Mom.

He takes Timmy’s hand, and together they exit.


Et in Terra Pax