90Two Minute Comedy

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

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

A Bird in Winter
A Two Minute Comedy

Roxanne - a Myna bird
Harriett - a woman

Lights up in Harriet’s apartment.  Roxanne is sitting on a perch, looking out the window.  Harriet enters and takes off her winter coat and gloves.  She immediately senses something is wrong.

HARRIET: Roxanne??  Are you alright?

Roxanne does not respond.

HARRIET: (worried) Roxanne?  What is it?  I know there’s something wrong.

Roxanne shifts slightly, says nothing.

HARRIET: I think I know why you’re unhappy.  It was the same this time last year.  When the weather gets gloomy and dark.  Am I right sweetie?   (pause) Or is it me?  Did I do something?  Hmmm?  If you’re angry with me please tell me Roxanne.  I want to know what I’ve done.  If I’ve done…

ROXANNE: It’s not you.

HARRIET: (relieved) I’m glad to hear that.  Can you tell me?  What is it?

ROXANNE: (sadly) Just… Living in this world.  It’s depressing as hell.

HARRIET: Why’s that Roxanne? 

ROXANNE: Why is that?  Why wouldn’t it be?  It’s totally foreign to me.  Every part of my pre-conditioned brain is wired for a totally organic, natural environment and you have me living in the absolute opposite.  A mechanical, inorganic world.  A hideous world full of artifice and façade. 

HARRIET: But we’ve been over this a hundred times. I can’t let you go out there.  Look at it.  It’s freezing cold.  There no leaves on the trees.  It’s the dead of winter.

Silence.  Finally.

ROXANNE: I hear when you freeze to death it’s just like falling asleep.

HARRIET: Well no one is falling asleep.  I’m not letting you go out there and certainly not this time of year.

ROXANNE: But then what’s the point?

HARRIET: What do you mean what’s the point?

ROXANNE: I mean what’s the point of being alive in this hostile world?  What is the fucking point, Harriet?

Harriet is crushed by this.  She turns away to fight back tears.  Humiliated, she composes herself, turns back to Roxanne.

HARRIET: The point is, I love you Roxanne and it would hurt me terribly to lose you.


ROXANNE: You’re infatuated with a freak of nature is all.  I am a talking bird which is totally unique in your world.  So, you don’t really love me.  You’re smitten with my abilities.

HARRIET: (insulted) I think I know the difference between love and infatuation.  I am not infatuated with you or your abilities.  I love the spirit that you are.  I love your humor and your courage and those weird little bird sayings you have.

ROXANNE: What “weird little bird sayings?”

HARRIET: Oh you know those little sayings like “People of leisure should flock to a seizure.”   “A man in hand is better than two in the back.”  Stuff like that.

ROXANNE: It’s a gay joke.

HARRIET:  I know, I know! 

ROXANNE: It’s a gay Mafia joke.

HARRIET:  And who has a bird that does standup?  Who??

ROXANNE: You do I suppose.

HARRIET: Roxanne, it’s just this time of year.  You’re depressed because it is the furthest from your natural habitat and it’s… it’s foreign to you.

ROXANNE: I don’t want to live here any more.

HARRIET:  Please don’t say that.

ROXANNE: (firm) I don’t want to live here anymore.  I hate it here Harriet.  I hate the fucking architecture and the walls  and the bars in the windows and the stupid human rituals and habits and phobias.  I hate the way human beings eat, and breathe and talk and shit in the little shit houses and then cover it up with sprays and mists and… Oh God.  I hate the whole fucking experience.

Harriet is crushed.  She picks up a pillow and presses it to her chest.

HARRIET: I’ve never heard you talk that way.  I’ve never heard that… tone.  (pause) What would you have me do Roxanne?  What is it you want?

A long pause.

ROXANNE: I want you to open that window in front of me.

HARRIET: (quietly) And then what?

ROXANNE:  And then I want you to go into the kitchen and leave me alone.

Harriet gasps.  She turns away again.

HARRIET: So you can go?

ROXANNE: (pause) So I can go.

Harriet is struck by a sudden wave of deep shuddering grief.  She sobs silently, heaving and shaking in great waves of sadness.  Roxanne turns to face her.

ROXANNE: Harriet… Harriet…


She straightens, walks to the window and throws it open.  A breeze blows in wafting the curtains. 

HARRIET:  There.  That’s what you want.

The breeze buffets Roxanne’s feathers.  He faces the window.  Hesitates.

ROXANNE: Damn.  That’s cold.

HARRIET: (angry) That’s why they call it freaking winter Roxanne!  (pause) I’m going to the kitchen.

She exits.  Roxanne watches her go, then turns back to the window.  The winter breeze ruffles his feathers as we…