Paul Nochio

or

The Stuff of Noses

by Glenn A. Hascall

Summary

A take-off of a familiar tale. In this case the person who lies gets a stuffy nose.

Cast

Narrator
Paul Nochio- A boy who does not like to tell the truth.
Grant Peto - A doctor who tries to help Paul.
Hairy Odd Preacher - Helps Paul understand why his nose get's stuffy

Props

Doctor's coat, donkey ears. chairs, other props as desired.

Script

NARRATOR: There once was an Ear, Nose and Throat specialist. The sign on his office
read, G. Peto E.N.T. His friends called him Grant. One day Grant met a young boy as he
left his office.

(Boy wanders around, doesn't seem to know what to do).

GRANT: Uh, are you lost?

PAUL: (Seems sad) Yes.

GRANT: What's your name, son?

PAUL: (Sound a little stuffy as compared to last line) P. Nochio. My friends call me Paul.
What's your name mister.

GRANT: G. Peto. My friends call me Grant. Hey, that's a great hat, where'd you get it?

PAUL: It came with a puppet I used to play with.

GRANT: Oh.

NARRATOR: Grant Peto and Paul Nochio walked down the street talking as they went
(exit stage). Grant wondered about the young boy's stuffy condition and was concerned that
it only seemed to be getting worse. Not knowing what else to do, Grant invited Paul to spend
the night and promised to look for the boys parents in the morning. However, in the middle of the night,
Paul quietly left the house and walked down the street, where he was met by a Hairy, Odd Preacher.

HAIRY: What are you doing out so late?

PAUL: I was just on my way home.

HAIRY: Didn't I see you sneak out of that window.

PAUL: (Stuffier than before) No, that wasn't me.

HAIRY: Are you sure?

PAUL: (Extremely stuffy) I'm not lying.

HAIRY: Oh, I've seen this type of thing before. You are not telling the truth. And when little
boys your size refuse to tell the truth their noses get plugged.

PAUL: (STUFFY) By Dose Is't Pugged.

HAIRY: Oh, yes it is. If you want to find real joy, then you must stop saying things that
aren't true.

PAUL: Oh yes, Hairy, Odd Preacher, I want to find real joy. I want to find real joy.

HAIRY: So, I've heard. So , how about some truth.

PAUL: I ran away from home this morning and G. Peto took me in (Nose starts sounding
better) and I was running away from him because - well I don't much care for his cat. (Nose
is clear).

HAIRY: The truth wasn't so bad was it?

PAUL: No, (pause) I guess not.

HAIRY: Now, I want you to go back to G. Peto's house and tell him the truth. Then let him
help you get home. Remember P. Nochio...

PAUL: You can call me Paul.

HAIRY: OK, Paul. Stop saying things that aren't true. Your nose will thank you.

NARRATOR: (Actors exit opposite sides of the stage) The Hairy, slightly odd Preacher
left as Paul went back to Grant's house. The next morning Paul told Grant that he had run
away from home and told Grant...

PAUL: I am so sorry for lying I was just afraid.

GRANT: So where do you live?

PAUL: Uh, on the west end of town.

GRANT: The West end?

PAUL: (Stuffy) Yea.

GRANT: Maybe I should take you back to the office and take a look at that nose of yours.
It seems to get stuffed up often.

PAUL: Uh, yea. I seem to have that problem lately. I'm sure it will go away.

GRANT: (Looks at the boy) I don't know, you just don't sound right.

PAUL: (Nervous) I'll be okay, I promise.

NARRATOR: (Grant exits stage as Paul moved center stage and sits on a chair) Grant
took Paul to his office and had him stay in the waiting room. Paul sat in the chair nervously
looking around. Suddenly, the boy runs out the door (Paul leaves stage) just as Grant comes
to get him.

GRANT: (Running across stage to get Paul) Paul, come back. Paul!

NARRATOR: But it was too late, Paul had run away again. Grant fretted and worried about
Paul for minutes on end. He even went to Monstro.com, a site dedicated to finding lost boys
with sinus problems. Still no luck. Grant was lost in cyber space and his computer locked up
on him as Paul came back in.

(Paul has a pair of donkey ears on his head).

GRANT: (Emotional) Paul Nochio, what has happened to you boy? You, you...well you look
like you've been turned into a donkey.

PAUL: Oh, these? I won them at a carnival (Takes the ears off).

GRANT: (Let down) Oh. Well, what happened to you.

PAUL: I didn't want you to check on my ears, throat or nose because (Pause)

GRANT: Because?

PAUL: I don't have a sinus problem. I have a sin problem.

GRANT: What do you mean?

PAUL: Hairy, Odd Preacher told me that the reason my nose got stuffy was because I
wasn't telling the truth and that if I wanted to have real joy, I needed to stop saying things
that weren't true.

GRANT: Oh, Paul Nochio, so have you found real joy.

PAUL: Yes...Yes I have.

GRANT: (Picks the boy up and swings him around as he says) He's found a real joy, A Real
Joy.

PAUL: I'm sorry about your computer.

GRANT: Let's go find your parents.

PAUL: (The two start walking off stage) OK. I actually live on the north side.

GRANT: I know I checked the phone book. There's not to many Nochio's in there.

PAUL: Oh, yea. You should meet my brother Pin. Talk about your mammoth nose....

NARRATOR: Grant went on to have a successful practice and married his college
sweetheart and had a son - they would have named him Paul, but Paul Peto just didn't have
a good ring to it.

Paul grew up, and became a preacher. He married a lovely girl named Betty, who had a
successful food company and came from a long line of Crockers. Paul took over where the
Hairy, Odd Preacher left off and works with people on the streets of his city.

In the end, Paul learned a lesson that we all must learn - we must stop saying things that
aren't true. We may never have a clogged nose like Paul, but our hearts may get congested
with lies and so many other sins. Ask God to clean your heart and live the life of one who is
remembered for telling the truth.

 

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Copyright Glenn Hascall, all rights reserved. This script may be used free of charge, provided no
charge is made for entry. In return, the author would appreciate being notified of any
performance. He may be contacted at glenn.hascall<a>gmail.com