Knock Knock: A Play

Night. A log cabin. The pine trees are pointy white cones; maybe it’s snow, maybe they’re racists.

Bacon staggers up to the door of the cabin, Eggs begrudgingly approaches from inside. Those are very common names in Germany.

Bacon: Knock knock.

Eggs: I don’t like knock knock jokes.

Bacon: This isn’t a knock knock joke.

Eggs: Then why did you say ‘knock knock’ instead of knocking?

Bacon: Wolves bit off my hands. They’re still out here somewhere. You have to let me in before they bite off the rest of me.

Eggs: I’m sort of busy.

Bacon: I’m sort of being hunted by wolves!

Eggs: Have you heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?

Bacon: You mean the one where the boy is eaten by a wolf? Because they don’t believe him?

Eggs: Imagine how much time they’d have saved if they hadn’t believed him the first time.

Bacon: You can hear them howling right now.

Eggs: That could be anything.

Bacon: Name one other animal that howls.

Eggs: Howler monkeys.

Bacon: You think the night is full of howler monkeys and I bit off my own hands just so I could tell you a knock knock joke?

Eggs: It’s a working hypothesis that fits all the available data.

Bacon: I can see them. They’ve found me.

Eggs: The howler monkeys?

Bacon: The wolves! Please, you have to let me in!

Eggs: I’m just not feeling very sociable today. Work was stressful and I had to stay late and really I just want to have a bath.

Bacon: One of them has my leg!

Eggs: Fine, I’ll open the door, but you’re to sit quietly until dawn and I’m not making you breakfast.

Eggs opens the door. There is only a head left on the doorstep. Wolves drag the rest of the body away in pieces.

Bacon: Orange you glad you didn’t say banana?!


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