Which Shoes do You Choose?

NARRATOR 1: Katie was tired of her same old shoes.

KATIE: I want shoes I choose!

NARRATOR 2: She went to the store to buy new ones.

NARRATOR 1: The clerks asked her,

ALL CLERKS: Which shoes do you choose?

NARRATOR 2: Katie said,

KATIE: I want shoes that are braggy, not baggy.

ALL CLERKS: (thinking about it) Hmmm. Let me see.

CLERK 1: We have small shoes,

CLERK 2: and tall shoes,

CLERK 3: and walk-on-the-wall shoes.

CLERK 4: We have red shoes,

CLERK 5: and head shoes,

CLERK 6: and down-the-hill-sled shoes.

CLERK 7: We have blue shoes,

CLERK 8: and BOO shoes,

CLERK 9: and paddle-canoe shoes.

ALL CLERKS: Which shoes do you choose?

KATIE: I want shoes that are slicky, not sticky.

ALL CLERKS: Hmmm. Let me see.

CLERK 1: We have jog shoes,

CLERK 2: and log shoes,

CLERK 3: and hop-like-a-frog shoes.

CLERK 4: We have tied shoes,

CLERK 5: and wide shoes,

CLERK 6: and carnival-ride shoes.

CLERK 7: We have trail shoes,

CLERK 8: and snail shoes,

CLERK 9: and wind-in-your-sail shoes.

ALL CLERKS: Which shoes do you choose?

KATIE: I want shoes that are spiffy, not iffy.

ALL CLERKS: Hmmm. Let me see.

CLERK 1: We have black shoes,

CLERK 2: and snack shoes,

CLERK 3: and ride-on-a-track shoes.

CLERK 4: We have wet shoes,

CLERK 5: and pet shoes,

CLERK 6: and super-speed-jet shoes.

CLERK 7: We have moon shoes,

CLERK 8: and goon shoes,

CLERK 9: and hot-air-balloon shoes.

ALL CLERKS: Which shoes do you choose?

KATIE: I choose all these shoes.

ALL CLERKS: (admiring her choice) Ah!

NARRATOR 1: She bought the shoes and took them home.

NARRATOR 2: Now Katie chooses all her shoes with

ALL CLERKS: (to audience) ALL THOSE SHOES TO CHOOSE!

The Legend of Slappy Hooper

NARRATOR 1: You’ve heard about Paul Bunyan, the greatest lumberjack of

all time.

NARRATOR 3: And you’ve heard about Pecos Bill, the greatest cowboy.
NARRATOR 2: Now let us tell you about the world’s

NARRATOR 1: biggest,

NARRATOR 2: fastest,

NARRATOR 3: bestest

NARRATOR 2: sign painter.

SLAPPY: (proudly, to audience, in booming voice) That’s me! Slappy

Hooper!

NARRATOR 1: You’d better believe Slappy was biggest! Why, he was seven
feet tall with shoulders to match, and he weighed three hundred pounds,
even without his cap and coverall and brush and bucket.

NARRATOR 2: And fastest?

SLAPPY: Just give me an eight-inch brush! (slaps paint on a wall)

NARRATOR 1: Slip!

NARRATOR 2: Slop!

NARRATOR 3: Slap!

NARRATOR 2: The job was done.

SLAPPY: And so smooth, you’d never see a brush stroke.

NARRATOR 3: And you bet Slappy was bestest! That was on account of his
pictures.

SLAPPY: No one else ever made them so true to life!

NARRATOR 3: In fact, some folks said they were too true to life.

NARRATOR 1: Slappy’s trouble started with the huge red rose he painted on
the sign for Rose’s Florist Shop.

ROSE RED: Slappy, it’s so real!

NARRATOR 1: . . . said Miss Rose Red, the owner.

ROSE RED: Why, I can just about smell the fragrance!

NARRATOR 2: But a week later, Rose Red fluttered into Slappy’s sign shop.

ROSE RED: Slappy, that sign of yours was too good.

SLAPPY: (puzzled) Too good?

ROSE RED: That’s right! The bees got wind of it and swarmed all over that
rose, trying to get in. They scared away all my customers! That was bad
enough, but wait till you see what’s happened now!
NARRATOR 3: When they reached the florist shop, Slappy saw that the bees
were gone. But the rose had withered and died!

ROSE RED: No one buys from a florist with a withered flower on her sign.
That’s the last thing you’ll paint for me, Slappy Hooper!

NARRATOR 1: The story got around, but most folks just laughed, and they
still wanted Slappy to do their signs.

NARRATOR 2: His next job was to paint a billboard for the Eagle Messenger
Service. Slappy painted an eagle three times larger than life.

BALDWIN EAGLE: Amazing!

NARRATOR 2: . . . said Mr. Baldwin Eagle.

BALDWIN EAGLE: It’s so real, I could swear I saw it blink! Wait a minute.
I did see it blink!

NARRATOR 3: Then the bird flapped its wings and flew right off the
billboard!

BALDWIN EAGLE: That sign was too good. That’s the last time you’ll work
for me, Slappy Hooper!

NARRATOR 1: Folks were getting scared to hire Slappy. But at last he got a
job from the Sunshine Travel Agency.

NARRATOR 2: The billboard was to show a man and woman on a beach,

toasting under a hot sun. Slappy painted it the day after a big snowstorm.

RAY SUNSHINE: Wonderful!

NARRATOR 3: . . . said Mr. Ray Sunshine.

RAY SUNSHINE: Why, that sun makes me feel hot! And look! The snow on
the sidewalk is melting!

NARRATOR 3: But a couple of days later, Slappy got a call.

RAY SUNSHINE: Slappy, your sign is too good. Get down here right away!

NARRATOR 1: When Slappy arrived, he saw that the sidewalk and street in
front of the billboard were covered with beach chairs. People sat around in
swimsuits and sunglasses, sipping lemonade and splashing suntan lotion.

RAY SUNSHINE: They’re blocking traffic, and the mayor blames me!
Besides, they won’t need my travel agency if they take their vacations here!
You’ve got to do something, Slappy.

NARRATOR 2: So Slappy set up his gear and got to work. He painted the
sun on the billboard much hotter. Before long, the crowd was sweating
buckets and complaining of sunburn. Then everyone packed up and left.

RAY SUNSHINE: Good work, Slappy! (gasps and points) Look at that!

NARRATOR 2: The man and woman on the billboard were walking off, too!
NARRATOR 3: Just then, a lick of flame shot up the wall of the building
across the street. Slappy’s sign had set it on fire! In a few minutes, fire
trucks clanged up and firefighters turned hoses on the flames.

RAY SUNSHINE: Slappy! Try something else!

NARRATOR 1: Slappy got back to work. He painted a storm cloud across

that sun. But he had to jump clear when the cloud shot bolts of lightning!

NARRATOR 2: Then the storm broke.

NARRATOR 3: Slappy’s cloud rained so hard, the billboard overflowed and

flooded all of Main Street!

RAY SUNSHINE: Never again, Slappy Hooper!

NARRATOR 1: After that, no one on earth would hire Slappy. It looked as if

his sign-painting days were done.

NARRATOR 2: Slappy felt so low, he made up his mind to throw his paint kit
in the river. He dragged it onto the tallest bridge in town and was just about
to chuck it, when a voice thundered out beside him.

MICHAEL: Don’t dump that gear, Slappy. You’re going to need it!

NARRATOR 3: Right next to Slappy stood a man almost as big as Slappy

himself. He wore a paint-splotched white coverall and a cap with two little
angel wings sticking out. He carried an eight-inch brush.

SLAPPY: Who are you?

MICHAEL: I’m Michael, from the Heavenly Sign Company. The Boss has had
an eye on you for some time, Slappy, and He likes your work. He’s got a job
for you—if you don’t mind working in the rain.

SLAPPY: Tell me about it.

MICHAEL: We need someone to paint a rainbow this Wednesday. Most of

the time, we handle all the rainbows ourselves. But it’s going to rain in a
bunch of places Wednesday, and we could sure use some help.

SLAPPY: I’m your man.

NARRATOR 3: . . . said Slappy.

NARRATOR 1: That Wednesday morning, Slappy rented a cannon, and set it

in a big cow pasture. He tied two ropes to his scaffold, then ran the other
ends through a couple of skyhooks. Then he loaded the skyhooks in the
cannon and shot them straight up.

SLAPPY: BOOM! (looks up)

NARRATOR 1: Sure enough, the skyhooks caught on the sky.

NARRATOR 2: Slappy felt the first raindrops. He piled all his paints and
brushes onto his scaffold, climbed on, and hoisted himself up, up, and up!
He kept going till he was just under the clouds. Then he tied his ropes and
started to paint.

NARRATOR 1: Slip!

NARRATOR 2: Slop!

NARRATOR 3: Slap!

NARRATOR 2: He had only just finished, when the sun popped through the
clouds and lit up what he’d done.

NARRATOR 3: There never was a finer rainbow! It had every color you could
imagine, each one blending perfectly with the next.

SLAPPY: (proudly, looking over his work) And not a brush stroke in sight!

NARRATOR 1: Just then, Slappy felt a big jolt. He looked up to see what had
caused it.

SLAPPY: Oh, no!

NARRATOR 1: The sun had run smack into his skyhooks!

NARRATOR 2: Slappy shut his eyes and waited for the long drop to the
ground. But it never came. When Slappy looked again, he saw why.

SLAPPY: (amazed) For heaven’s sake!

NARRATOR 2: Slappy’s hooks had caught on the sun itself! And the sun was
pulling his rig across the sky!

NARRATOR 3: Now, another sign painter might have been frightened. But
not Slappy Hooper! He was enjoying the ride!

NARRATOR 1: He’d covered a good distance when Michael appeared on the

scaffold beside him.

MICHAEL: (thundering) The Boss liked your rainbow, Slappy.

SLAPPY: You mean, it wasn’t too good?

MICHAEL: If it isn’t too good, it’s not good enough! That’s how we figure.
Anyhow, now that you’re here, the Boss has another job for you—if you
don’t mind working odd hours.

SLAPPY: Tell me about it.

MICHAEL: It’s the sunrise and sunset. I guess you know, the Boss Himself
has been painting them since time began. But He’s done it so long, He’d like
to give someone else a chance.

SLAPPY: I’m your man.

NARRATOR 3: . . . said Slappy Hooper.

NARRATOR 1: Slappy’s been up there ever since.

NARRATOR 2: Of course, you can’t see him, with the sun so bright—but he’s
there all the same.

NARRATOR 3: Night and day, the sun pulls Slappy and his rig around the
world. And every time Slappy comes to a horizon, he reaches up with his
eight-inch brush.

NARRATOR 1: Slip!

NARRATOR 2: Slop!

NARRATOR 3: Slap!

NARRATOR 2: The job is done.

SLAPPY: (to audience) And never a brush stroke in sight!

 Dinosaur Land

MEAT EATER: (LOOKING AT PLANT EATER) IS THAT ALL YOU EVER EAT?

PLANT EATER: WHY NOT? I HAPPEN TO LIKE PLANTS.

MEAT EATER: YOU'LL NEVER GROW UP TO BE BIG AND STRONG LIKE ME!

PLANT EATER: AT LEAST I DON'T GO AROUND EATING POOR HELPLESS

LITTLE ANIMALS.

MEAT EATER: YOU WOULD, TOO, IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A SISSY!

PLANT EATER: A SISSY! WATCH IT, BUSTER, OR l'LL THROW THIS TREE
AT YOU!

MEAT EATER: YOU PLANT EATERS RUIN THE COUNTRYSIDE.

PLANT EATER: AT LEAST PLANTS GROW BACK. ANIMALS NEVER DO!

MEAT EATER: WELL I HAVE TO EAT, DON'T 1?

PLANT EATER: I SUPPOSE. BUT SO DO I. SO STOP PESTERING ME. BESIDES,

I'M ON A DIET THIS MONTH.

MEAT EATER: YOU SHOULD BE! (LOOKIN6 UPWARDS) LOOK HOW B1G
YOU'VE G0TTEN.

PLANT EATER: LOOK WHO'S TALKING. I MAY BE TALLER, BUT YOU'RE

CERTAINLY B1GGER AROUND THE MIDDLE.

MEAT EATER: LUCKY FOR YOU I DON'T LIKE PLANT EATING ANIMALS.

PLANT EATER: OH, YEAH? AND LUCKY FOR YOU YOU'RE NOT A PLANT.

MEAT EATER: OH, YEAH? (PUFFS OUT CHEST AND STRUTS)

PLANT EATER: YEAH! (ALSO PUFFS OUT CHEST)

MEAT EATER: ONE OF THESE DAYS . . . (RAISES FIST)

PLANT EATER: ONE OF THESE DAYS YOU WON'T BE AROUND ANY MORE!

MEAT EATER: WELL, IF I GO, YOU GO TOO!