Snapshots
by Nancy Bucca

Summary 
Based loosely on Luke 15:25-32, this play gives a glimpse into the life of Stan, the
epitomy of the prodigal son's older brother, seen several years following his brother Chip's 
conversion to Christ. Stan is the 'Scrooge of another kind,' boasting of his own generosity while accusing others of using their generosity to 'buy people off.' But he is the one knocking himself out in vain to please other people, and buying them off. Because of hidden hurts, he has become more concerned over keeping his precious family heirloom intact than with mending the broken relationships within his own family. 
All scenes take place in his living room, with its comfy couch. Stan's wife Sandy is having her family over, as usual, for Christmas dinner. Stan, of course, has knocked himself out to get the right presents, trim the tree, and try to make himself look good. None of his best efforts are appreciated, however. To complicate matters, his cell phone keeps ringing at the worst times. Stan just can't make everybody happy, it seems. Will this end up being the worst Christmas ever? Keywords: 
 Style: Dramatic  Duration:
Actors: 3M, 4F, 3C
Characters:
Stan, the hard, working man with a belly like Santa Claus. 
Stan's wife Sandy, who loves having people over and entertaining. She is also very protective of Stan and tries to smooth things over between him and his family.
Sandy's mother Phyllis, stereotype of the dreaded mother-in-law, complete with her own
hypocritical contradictions.
Sandy's sister Katie, an excitable hypochondriac ready to rush her child to the doctor at the first sign of a splinter.
Katie's husband Herb, a very helpful man never without a tissue, a pair of tweezers, or anything else that will help solve a minor medical problem.
Kate and Herb's daughters Tamara and Patience: Tamara is rather sassy and insulting; 
Patience is a very whiny child who is always wanting something 
 Sandy's brother Kyle, a practical joker and overall clown. 
Kyle's wife Lisa, who cries at the drop of a hat . 
Kyle and Lisa's son Troy, who is very handy with his hands; also very good at accidentally
breaking things. He recently learned how to pick locks.
Stan's brother Chip, whom we see near the end of the play. He is a very outgoing,
likable kind of guy.

Script
 
Scene I 
 
(It is the morning of Christmas Eve. Stan is sleeping on the couch. His wife Sandy tries to wake him up, but he is still dreaming. In his prewaking nightmare chickens are throwing eggs at his noggin. He groans and turns over, moaning.)
 
Sandy: Earth to Stan! Wake up! Cock-a-doodle-doo! 
 
Stan (very slowly and groggily): Ohhhh… my head. Leave me alone. I'm henpecked enough as it is. 
 
(Sandy gives him a good shake. He awakes with a start, the dream still vivid in his mind)
 
Stan: No, don't let them get me! - Oh, it's only you, Sandy. I had the worst nightmare… Is it Christmas morning yet? And is the turkey still available for purchase at the store?
 
Sandy: Settle down, dear. You were just having a bad dream.
 
Stan: Man, it sure seemed real. I dreamed I was in a barnyard full of chickens because I'd been a real turkey this year and I had to see the gobbler of Christmas presents before my future Christmas goose got cooked. Then all these hens started throwing eggs at me. Now my head is pounding like a ping pong ball. What did you do - knock me out with a sledge hammer? 
 
Sandy: No, I didn't. You're just suffering a hangover from all that egg nog you consumed at last night's Christmas party. You were so out of it, I had to drive you home. You were so sloshed you fell asleep on the couch - again. Twelve parties in one month is a bit excessive if you ask me. (she helps him to his feet; he feels his hurting head) 
 
Stan: Why? Don't I deserve a little fun? I slave all year making greeting cards for all seasons just to buy you all the things you want. You'd think I could have a little rest and relaxation at Christmas time. ... Ow, my head! What day is it?
 
Sandy: Christmas Eve, honey. The night you get to reprise your favorite role.
 
Stan: No. Not Santa Clause again! That's torture!
 
Sandy: I think you can handle it. 
 
Stan: Why can't your brother Kyle play Santa Clause?
 
Sandy: Because he's not as gifted as you are. 
 
Stan (playing the martyr): What did I ever do to deserve a family like yours?
 
Sandy: Just part of the package, dear. 
 
Stan: Right. Got to love them hillbillies. 'Specially Herb with his coon's hat and snake oil medicine. 
 
Sandy: Oh come on, Stan! Hillbillies, my word! Just because Herb wears those baggy pants is no reason to call him a hillbilly. He's just a handy man who likes to keep useful medical items in a handy place.
 
Stan: It doesn't matter what kind of medicine he's got stashed. I still got the flu last year after Christmas, and I don't want to get it again. It's not that I have anything against your relatives, Sandy. It's just that they're not careful where they sneeze. 
 
Sandy: Come on, Stan. Don't blame them for giving you the flu. You know very well you caught it two days after Christmas from two co-workers that you insisted come in to work with you, even though they were sick and the shop was closed. 
 
Stan: That’s my point exactly. No matter how hard I work and slave to provide for everybody else's health and well being, someone's either making me sick or breaking something. I can't win! 
 
Sandy: You just won't forget the time last year when Troy knocked over your mini Statue of Liberty, will you?
 
Stan: How can I? It's a family heirloom. And it never would have gotten broken if your brother Kyle and his wife Lisa didn't let their son run wild. Do me a favor though, and lock my China vase in the hidden storage closet, in that part of the house where no one ever goes. It's the most treasured possession I have in the entire world - a priceless family heirloom given to me by my grandmother Louise. 
 
Sandy: Don't worry. Your greatest treasure will be kept safe and secure. 
 
Stan: And another thing: Try to make sure everyone behaves this year. 
 
Sandy: Like I can control my family? Come on, Stan. If you don't care to see them, just tell them to order pizza and we'll have them over some other time. 
 
Stan: That's ridiculous. No one ever orders pizza at Christmastime. 
 
Sandy: Why don't you invite your brother Chip over then? I’m sure he could use a friend for the holidays.
 
Stan: No, that's okay. You win, as usual. 
 
Sandy (shaking her head): Boy, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed today. Better get your act together. You have an axe to grind and a tree to trim. And please get a nice tall tree this time, not like last year. 
 
Stan: Big and tall. Got it. 
 
Sandy: And if you wouldn't mind trimming it, too, I'd really appreciate it. With all the baking I have to do today, I don't know when I'll have the time.
 
Stan: You want me to trim the tree too?
 
Sandy: Would you please?
 
Stan: All right. I'll give it my best. I'll get a really tall tree and I'll trim it too.
 
Sandy: Thanks so much! I've got to get to work. 
 
(Sandy exits to do her kitchen work while Stan leaves to chop down a tree.)

Scene Two

(We meet Stan an hour later as he comes in all bedraggled and sweaty, carrying in a bonsai sized tree. He doesn't see Sandy come in, gaze at the tree, and nearly fall over in shock). 
 
Stan: Man, was that a job! Phew! I am sweating like a pig dog! But here it is, the masterpiece to beat all masterpieces. I sure hope the folks appreciate all the work that went into it. 
 
Sandy: What happened? (Stan is so startled he nearly jumps three feet in the air): I thought you were going to chop down the tallest tree you could find.
 
Stan: I did. It was like, eight feet tall, a real beauty. And then I trimmed it, like you told me too. You did want me to trim it, didn't you?
 
Sandy: Well, yes, I did tell you to trim it. But what I meant was…
 
Stan. Did you put away the China vase?
 
Sandy: Yep, that's one keepsake you don't have to worry about. We'll have a wonderful family Christmas this year. Once I get over that tree….
 
Stan: Once you get over what?
 
Sandy: Once I get everything together, Stan. 
 
Stan: All right then. Let's get set for a wonderful family Christmas. 
  
Scene Three
 
(Stan and Sandy are ready at the door to greet their first guests)
 
Sandy (looking out the window): They're here already! Now remember, be polite - for me.
 
Stan: And since when am I not polite?
 
(Sandy gives him the ' look')
 
Stan: I promise to be on my best behavior. 
 
Sandy: Thanks, dear. . 
 
(In comes Phyllis (Sandy's mother); Sandy's sister Katie; her husband Herb, who wears baggy jeans with which to stuff a great variety of emergency paraphernalia, their daughters Tamara (Tammy), her face caked with makeup, and Patience, who is working on a handheld puzzle. Sandy and Stan greet them one by one)
 
Sandy: Merry Christmas, Mom! It's so good to see you!
 
Phyllis: Merry Christmas to you too, dear. Merry Christmas, Stanley…
 
Stan: Hi, Phyllis.
 
Phyllis: Merry Christmas, Stanley. … Well… Aren't you going to say Merry Christmas to me?
 
Stan: I gave you a card. 
 
Phyllis: It's not the same thing. You simply must - Oh my! Is that a crumb on the floor? You two really need to get a maid. Katie and Herb have a maid, you know. Keeps their house spotless.
 
Stan: Costs a lot of money too. (mutters: As if nothing I do around here matters). 
 
Sandy: Katie! Merry Christmas! Herb, Merry Christmas.
 
(Herb nods, whispers a merry Christmas that no one else really hears. Stan takes one look at Herb's baggy pants, and immediately comments)
 
Stan: Well, if it isn't the bagmeister.
 
Sandy: Stan…
 
Katie: Merry Christmas, Sandy. Merry Christmas, Stan. I don't know how long we'll be able to stay. Patience may be coming down with a cold.
 
Tamara: She's fine, Mom.
 
Stan: Don't worry. It's okay if you can't stay long. 
 
Patience: I'm hungry, Mommy. When do we eat?
 
Katie: In a little while, Patience. Just be patient.
 
Patience: I am patient. I just want to know when we get to eat.
 
Katie: After you say Merry Christmas to your Aunt and Uncle, sweetie.
 
Patience: Merry Christmas. When do we eat?
 
Stan: Listen, young lady, a lot of work went into… 
 
Sandy (interrupting): In about half an hour, dear. Make yourself at home. 
 
Katie: Oh my! I think I see a mosquito flying around. Get your newspaper handy, Herb.
 
(Herb pulls out a rolled up newspaper and prepares to swing it.)
 
Stan: He carries a newspaper with him? 
 
Katie: At all times. 
 
Stan: Of all the absurd…
 
Sandy (to Stan): Lighten up, dear. 
 
Tamara: Say, Stan, Merry Christmas. And nice hack job on the tree. You sure know how to butcher an oxygen producer. 
 
Stan: Thanks, Tammy. I can see that you've certainly gotten… (hesitates; wants to say "sarcastic") … tall.
 
Tamara: You’re welcome. I can see you've put on some weight. 
 
Stan (to Herb): Wash her mouth out with soap, will you?
 
(in response, Herb takes a bar of soap out of his pocket)
 
Tamara: What? You want to wash out my mouth with soap? I've never been so insulted in my entire life! (sniffs crocodile tears. Herb pulls a tissue out of his pocket to hand to Tammy; she refuses it) Nobody loves me.
 
Stan (muttering to himself): Of all the…
 
Katie: (holds her arms out as if making room) Give her plenty of space, everyone. (hugs Tamara, who pushes her away) She needs a little time to calm down after her Uncle Stan insulted her… 
 
Tamara: Why did I even come here in the first place when we could have just sent out for pizza? 
 
Patience (interrupting): Mommy, Tammy's making me hungry. 
 
Katie: Play with your puzzle.
 
Patience: But I'm bored with it! (she starts to pout) 
 
(Stan shoots an 'I told you so' look to Sandy and shakes his head; she looks at him like "Be nice"; Stan paces back and forth, loudly muttering 'unbelievable, simply unbelievable. This family!' Phyllis looks at him like he's crazy. Meanwhile Herb checks his pockets and pulls out an empty pill container. Katie looks at it and shakes her head) 
 
Katie (to Herb): Are you telling me we're out of medication - again? … It's the only thing that keeps her happy, you know that. … Well, do you have some chocolate, an aspirin, anything to calm her nerves? (Fred pulls out a card deck to give to Patience) That'll do. (Patience sits on the couch to play cards) 
 
Tamara: This is unreal! I can't believe how everyone caters to Patience, but nobody ever listens to anything I have to say. I may as well leave.
 
Stanley: Why don't you then? 
 
Tamara (flabbergasted): Would you please stop treating me like a little kid? Trying to wash out my mouth with soup, using reverse psychology on me to get me to stay. For your information, I'm the bigger sister, not the little one, and it's about time people started taking me seriously! Seriously! I mean, I'm not the baby that needs a cookie just to make me feel better. (folds her arms and looks around as if daring someone to try to comfort her)
 
Phyllis (putting her arms around Tamara): There, there, dear. Your Uncle Stanley must have a real chip on his shoulder to talk to you that way. Unlike your Uncle Kyle. He's a lot of fun. Now then, why don't the two of us disappear into the kitchen and make some cookies? I'll let you lick the bowl. 
 
Tamara (sticks her thumb in her mouth): Sure, why not? 
 
Stan: That's right. Give them whatever they want. Just like good old Kyle. (whispers to Sandy): Remind me to put a lump of coal in her stocking. 
 
(As Phyllis and Tamara leave for the kitchen, there is another knock on the door.)
 
Sandy: Merry Christmas! It's so good to see you, Kyle. 
 
Stan (sarcastically, to audience): Speak of everybody's perfect angel. 
 
(very outgoing Kyle sails in, all smiles, followed by Troy; Lisa lags behind them both ) 
 
Kyle: Merry Christmas, one and all! Sandy, Sandy, Sandy! You haven't changed a bit! 
 
Sandy: Same old fun loving Kyle. Nice to see you too, Lisa.
 
Lisa (sniffing): Hello. 
 
Sandy: And how are you doing?
 
Lisa: Oh, I'm all right, I suppose. I would have brought some pie, but it fell on the floor and we had to feed it to the dog. It was so sad.
 
Sandy: That's okay. I've got plenty of food. 
 
Stan: Because you-know-who paid for it. (points to himself)
 
Patience: Did someone mention food?
 
Sandy: I'm checking on it right now. (leaves to go into the kitchen) 
 
Troy (approaching Stan): Looks like you've gained weight. Way to go! You make a great fake Santa. 
 
Stan: Gee, thanks. You make a great little…
 
Kyle: Hey, Stan, I like what you did to the tree. Couldn't have mangled it better myself. 
 
Troy: Got anything fun to toss around, like that statue you had last year?
 
Stan: No, afraid not. I don't care to have another broken heirloom, if you don't mind.
 
Kyle: Oh, have a heart, Stan. That kid is all boy. Just like his Dad. 
 
 (At this point Sandy saunters back into the room)
 
Sandy: I just want you all to know that we're right on schedule for dinner. 
 
Kyle: Say, Troy, why don't we go outside and hit the baseball around?
 
Troy: Great idea.
 
Lisa: But what if…?
 
Kyle: Don't worry. We'll be careful. 
 
Lisa: That's what you said before you threw that rotten banana at the cop's windshield.
 
Kyle: It was an accident. I promise, nothing will happen this time. And if it does, I'll pay for it. (Kyle, Troy, and Fred all exit to play ball)
 
Stan: I hope you brought a good supply of cash.
 
Sandy: Hey, girls, why don't we head to the dining room. We can sit at the table, eat a few cookies, and solve all the world's problems. And since you're so concerned about breaking a window, Stanley, you can play ball with the guys. 
 
Stan: Yippee.
 
Katie, Patience, Lisa: Good idea. 
 
(Patience grabs the cards and follows them off stage. Stan alone is left.)
 
Stan: I can see it now. Bang, crash. There goes another window. I work and I slave all year, and what thanks do I get? (at this point Stan's cell phone rings. He answers it.) Yeah, what do you want? … It's who? … Oh, hi. … Yeah… Not today. I've got company. … You don't really have to call later. … Oh…. Talk to you. Bye. (hangs up the phone) Well, Stan , it looks like the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future have come to haunt you. … What did you ever do to deserve it? 
 
Scene Four 
 
(Dinner has been eaten, Stan has distributed the presents and is sitting on the couch, exhausted. Phyllis and Sandy are sitting on opposite sides of him. The other grownups are sitting on chairs or standing up as the case may be. The children are sitting on the floor, twiddling their thumbs. All the presents have been taken to their respective cars, so there isn't anything for them to play with) 
 
Sandy: Thankyou, Stan, for passing out all the presents. 
 
Lisa, Phyllis, Katie: Thankyou, Stan. 
 
Troy, Patience: Thanks, Uncle Stan.
 
Tamara: Whatever.
 
Patience: Can we go now? (Fred shakes his head 'no' and quietly calms her down)
 
Kyle: Thankyou, Stan. By the way, here's the money to fix the window. (takes out some bills)
 
Stan (through gritted teeth): That's okay. Keep the money. (loudly mutters to Sandy): If you ask me, you should have kept your son under control instead of buying me off after the fact. 
 
Sandy: Stan! 
 
Kyle: Well, if you feel that way… (puts the bills back) 
 
Stan: But since you went to all the trouble, I'll accept. After all, I wouldn't want to cheat you out of the chance to follow in my footsteps. 
 
Phyllis: And whatever dirt they've tracked in. 
 
Stan (accepting the bills from Kyle): I was talking about my propensity for extravagant generosity. (laughs as if he's kidding, but he's really not) 
 
Troy: I don't know. I think you're hiding something underneath that Santa suit. 
 
Stan: Huh?
 
Troy: Yeah. I mean, you've got to be stuffed with more than turkey and cranberry sauce. What have you got in there - a pillow filled with candy to put in all our stockings? 
 
Lisa: That's enough, Troy! You apologize to your Uncle at once for calling him a phony. That's the real Stan you're looking at. He isn't hiding anything. 
 
Phyllis: That's right, young man. You must show respect for your elders. Just because your Uncle Stan is way overweight is no reason to insult him. No reason at all. That doesn't mean that he couldn't stand to lose a few pounds, of course. But if I was concerned about his health, and you should be - after all that huffing and puffing I was afraid he'd end up in the emergency room tonight - I'd do something constructive to help him. - Like keep the cookies out of his reach, or help him distribute the presents. 
 
Katie: Mom, stop it! You're not being fair to Stan either. As if it's his fault he had to drag in a ton of presents without any help. Of course there were some pretty big ticket items. Fred and I bought a few things at Shopmart that we knew you'd all love, but Sandy and Stan clearly went all out to please us. They must have spent a fortune. 
 
Sandy: Nothing but the best for our family! 
 
Phyllis: You're right, Sandy. It's the thought behind the gift that counts. For example, take those letter openers I bought everyone. Simple, useful, practical. And great for opening Christmas cards, since Stan prefers them over sensible holiday greetings. 
 
Stan: Sounds like a gift with a definite message - for me. I assume you all like the presents I got you?
 
Sandy: That we got you. (silence; nervousness; embarrassment) Well, somebody say something. Kyle?
 
Kyle: Uh, sure. Thanks for the color TV. It's just the thing to turn an active boy into a couch potato. Must have cost you all a bundle. 
 
Sandy: Kyle, you are such a kidder.
 
Kyle: Who's kidding?
 
Sandy: You are! And we all love you for it.
 
Stan: Well… (sarcastically) Any other positive feedback? 
 
Phyllis: Don't take this the wrong way, Stanley, because it's constructive criticism given in love. But very frankly, your gifts were simply - how can I say it? - way too lavish. You could have kept them much more simple. Take Kyle for example. There's a man who knows how to pick out a gift. I just love that hat he got me. Where did you say you bought it from again? 
 
Kyle: I found it in a trash can and rescued it from a raccoon. The two of us had quite a struggle, but it was worth it. 
 
Phyllis: You see, Stanley, there's a man who knows how to get a simple gift without knocking himself out. You ought to try it sometime. You don't have to get anything expensive. Just simple gifts for simple folk like us. No fanfare, no fussing … Oh no! Is that a spider web on the wall? 
 
Sandy: Yes, but there's no spider in it. 
 
Lisa: Could we talk about something else?
 
(Stan hurriedly gets out photo album. As he starts talking about his first house they all stifle yawns)
 
Stan: Hey, everyone, let's look at some family photos. There are some really good picture of me here. This is the first house I ever bought. On my own of course. Didn't even have to take out a loan for it.
 
(As Stan is saying 'share', his cell phone rings. Stan rushes to answer it, as if he's afraid anyone else will find out who's at the other end. While he's speaking, everyone else is listening and wondering just who he might be talking to. They quietly watch him as he talks, interested in who it might be, much more interested in what Stan doesn't want to tell them than in what he does want to talk about. As Stan goes off stage, they follow closely behind, but when he turns around they go right back to what they were doing, as if they weren't listening in) 
 
Stan: Hello? … You just called earlier … Well, we're busy right now. … It's Christmas, for crying out loud. … No … Yes, I'm sure (he sounds the exact opposite of 'sure')… I told you I've got company… Well, I've got to go. … Yeah, yeah. Merry whatever. Bye. (hangs up the phone just as everyone else takes their places, pretending they haven't heard a thing.)
 
Phyllis: Who was that? 
 
Stan: No one important.
 
Troy: Yeah, right. I'll bet it was an elf.
 
Patience: Or the pizza delivery man.
 
Tamara: I can't believe you're still hungry. 
 
Kyle: Maybe it was the IRS.
 
Katie: Or the hospital. 
 
Phyllis: So which one was it? An elf, the pizza delivery man, the hospital, or the IRS?
 
Stan: None of them. It was just - the Salvation Army looking for me to donate something, as usual. 
 
Phyllis: Salvation Army? How strange. 
 
Stan: Let's get on to the photos. I have some really special ones here. 
 
(Everyone yawns. Fred hands Kyle a balloon, which he blows up)
 
Stan: Now here's a picture of me when I was, oh, maybe eighteen years old, right after I'd won my first…
 
(Kyle pops the balloon, completely startling Stan. This causes spontaneous laughter to erupt in the room. Stan does not think this was funny. After catching his breath, he returns to the pictures)
 
Stan (trying to talk over the giggling): You want to see something funny? I'll show you something funny - see that guy getting wiped out by a wave. No relation of mine… And here's a picture of me jet skiing. … And I want you all to know - I'm not trying to brag - but this picture was on one of my early …
 
(As he says the word 'my,' Patience sneezes. Katie begins to panic.)
 
Katie: I knew it! I knew she was coming down with a cold.
 
Stan: You can sneeze in the back yard, you know. 
 
Katie: And catch her death of pneumonia? Oh, Herb, I hope she'll be all right. (she feels Patience's forehead; Herb comes running up with a thermometer) 
 
(While they are talking, the phone rings again. Stan once again answers it as they look on, and once again leaves the room. Everyone follows him. When Stan returns, they quickly return to what they were doing, as if they didn't even notice he was gone.)
 
Katie (to Patience): I think you'll be all right, dear. Must just be your allergies. 
 
Tamara: Mom, please, she's fine. 
 
Kyle: So who was that, Stan?
 
Stan: Salvation Army again. Those people sure are persistent. 
 
Phyllis: They say it's been a rough year for charities. Their chips are down, so to speak. 
 
Tamara: Or maybe the Salvation Army is really Stan's brother - the one we never see.
.
Katie: What was his name? Flip? Trip? 
 
Phyllis: Chip. 
 
Stan: Chips and dip? Excellent idea. 
 
Patience: I don't want a chip. I want a cookie. 
 
Katie: Someone get this girl a cookie! 
 
(Herb pulls out a cookie to give to Patience; just as she starts to take it, Stan complains)
 
Stan: That's right. Give her whatever she wants. If you ask me, she should have eaten her dinner. (His words make Patience cry. Lisa cries too). 
 
Phyllis: Way to overreact, Stanley. (to Patience) Take that in the kitchen, dear, before you get crumbs all over the couch. 
 
Stan: Why don't you help yourself to the entire cookie jar while you're at it?
 
Kyle: I've got an idea. I say we let Tammy watch the kids why we grownups spend some time together.
 
Tamara: Aw, do I have to?
 
Kyle (whipping out his wallet): Pays good bucks.
 
Tamara: Deal. (she takes the money and watches the children - quite literally. Patience takes the cookie to the kitchen; Troy starts to fidget).
 
Stan: Here we go again. Just give 'em what they want in order to get 'em off your back. Never give them any discipline. Oh no. 
 
Kyle: You know something, Stan? You really are a bitter man. Why can't you just enjoy life and stop worrying about everybody else?
 
Phyllis: He's right, Stan. You need to let it go. 
 
Stan: You mean like Kyle? And have some policeman sue me over some practical joke gone bad?
 
(This comment makes Lisa cry; Herb hands her a tissue)
 
Phyllis: Now see what you did?
 
Stan: What I did? Come on! Stop worrying about the children, and look at the album instead.
 
(As Stan shows the next picture, Troy begins humming obnoxious aircraft zooming noises)
 
Stan: Ahhh, here's a picture of me when I flew to…(zooming noises)… buddies, including a shot of Rick totally messing up his ( zooming) …swing and me getting a (zooming) … hole in one. I won the (zooming) game that day. … And here's a candid shot of Marty Spencer trying to (zooming) hit a ball out of a sand pit. … And here he is up to his neck in (more zooming; Stan sets the album back down)… I thought you were watching him, Tammy.
 
Tamara: I am. I'm watching him bother you. 
 
Stan: I thought Kyle paid you to entertain him. 
 
Tamara: I agreed to watch him, not entertain him. But I might be persuaded to do more. For the right price. 
 
Stan (pulling out his wallet): How much do you want? Most of it's payment for that window your uncle broke this afternoon. But if that's what it takes… Don't ever say I'm not the most generous uncle you've got. And if anyone wants cookies, we have plenty in the cookie jar. (he pays her even more money than Kyle did; she takes Troy by the hand and starts a game of Hide and Seek) 
 
Phyllis: Anything to get 'em off your back, huh, Stanley? (everyone watches them leave)
 
Stan: Why don't we get back to the pictures? 
 
Kyle: Of course. But frankly, Stan, those ones aren't very interesting.
 
Sandy: I have something. (she grabs her and Stan's wedding album; they've been married only four years. All the grownups quickly gather around. THIS interests them.) I just put it together a couple months ago. 
 
Phyllis: Why, I just love wedding pictures that are over four years old! … Like this beautiful one of Sandy, standing next to that clown with the huge chunk of wedding cake sticking out of his mouth. 
 
Sandy: That 'clown' happens to be Stan.
 
Phyllis: Really? I hadn't noticed. 
 
Stan: Let's do something else. Like charades. Or maybe we should all go to bed. 
 
Phyllis: You sure are a party pooper, aren't you, Stanley? Always wanting to retire when everybody else wants to stay up and have fun. Why, I think that we're doing now is just fine. Such beautiful pictures, such happy memories. Like this one, showing all of us gathered together in the wedding party: Sandy, me, Kyle, Lisa, Katie, Herb, Stanley's Mom and Dad, and of course you, Stanley, with his brother Chip. Speaking of Chip, why don't you ever invite him over? We haven't seen him in ages. 
 
Stan: It's a long story. 
 
Phyllis: Good. We have plenty of time, and we're all ears. (Katie, Kyle, and Herb all gather closely around, ears perked to hear more)
 
Stan (trying to hide his anger and fear): It's just that… he doesn't really do well at family gatherings. If you know what I mean. 
 
Phyllis: Now, Stanley, you shouldn't exclude him just because he can't afford a suit and tie. Not everyone's as well off as you. As I keep saying, we're simple folks here, and not at all picky. Sandy, is that a spot on the curtain? I keep telling you, you really need to get a maid. 
 
Stan (yawning): Would you look at the time! 
 
Phyllis: By the way, Stanley, why don't you ever invite your folks over for Christmas? We never get to see them either. 
 
Stan: They live in another state. It's a long drive. And at their age, well, it takes a lot out of them.
 
Phyllis: Nonsense! That's still no reason you can't invite them over, and we can be one big, happy family. 
 
(At this moment Patience comes in from the kitchen moaning) 
 
Sandy: Is everything okay?
 
Patience: I feel sick. 
 
Stan: Probably from all those cookies you ate.
 
Phyllis: And who let her raid the jar? 
 
Katie: Don't panic, Patience. I'll call the doctor. Someone give me a phone! (Stan hands her his cell phone just as it rings; he has no choice but to answer it) Tell the Salvation Army to wait. This is an emergency!
 
Stan: Hello… Listen, I can't stay on the … 
 
Katie (yanking the phone out of Stan's hand): It's an emergency! It's an emergency! Give me 911, right now!
 
Patience: When I said I was sick, I meant I want to go home.
 
Katie: Oh. (hands the phone back to Stan as suddenly Tamara hurries into the room with Troy) 
 
Sandy: My goodness, what's wrong, Tammy? 
 
Tammy: Um - I'm afraid we had a little mishap. Something sort of valuable looking broke.
 
Stan: It didn't happen to be made of China by any chance?
 
Tammy: Uh, yes, it did. 
 
Troy: I tried to catch it before it fell, really I did, but…
 
Stan (in stunned disbelief): I thought you were watching him. 
 
Tamara: I was. That is, we were playing hide and seek. I figured it was a safe enough game. I don't know how… 
 
Troy: It's like this. I went to a part of the house where no one ever goes, and where's there's this really cool closet. I figured it was a great place to hide. So I picked the lock. Then I saw the vase in there and… well, it looked so: tossable. 
 
Lisa (sobbing): It's all my fault. I should have warned you he knew how to pick locks. 
 
Stan: This is unreal. I can't believe this family. I simply can't believe it!
 
Tamara: Me neither. 
 
Fred: Maybe we'd better call it a night. 
 
(Everyone is in shock. Fred actually spoke loud enough for them all to hear)
 
Kyle (patting Fred on the back): Now that took a lot of guts. I don't know about the rest of you, but I think Fred's right. We'd better get going. By the way, Stan, I'm really sorry Troy broke the vase. How much did it cost?
 
Troy (to Kyle): You're not going to sell my Christmas present to pay for it, are you? Last time you pawned my…
 
Kyle: That's enough, son. 
 
Stan: Forget it. Just … keep it. It's only an irreplaceable heirloom. 
 
Lisa: What's that supposed to mean?
 
Stan: It means I'll slave another day and buy another vase that will meet its own untimely demise. Not that it will never make up for the one I lost. 
 
Lisa: That settles it. You've got to put it back together, Troy. (Fred hands her some glue; she hands it to Troy) I'll help you.
 
Stan: No, don't. Really. I was only joking. It's only a vase. I'll be fine. 
 
Kyle: Are you sure? 
 
Stan: Of course I'm sure. Now get on with you. Go. Scat. See you next year. 
 
Sandy: We'll see you. It's been a lot of fun.
 
Troy, Lisa, Kyle: See you. 
 
Troy: For what it's worth, you make a great Santa, Santa. 
 
Kyle: And thanks for the idiot box. (Kyle and family exit) 
 
Stan: Don't mention it. 
 
Phyllis: You're taking this like a trooper, Stan. If I were you, I'd have taken Kyle for all he had. It's not much, but it would teach him a lesson. See you next year. (To Sandy): Bye, dear.
 
Sandy: Bye, Mom. See you soon. 
 
Stan: Merry Christmas. 
 
Katie: Bye, Stan, bye, Sandy, and thanks for having us over. 
 
Sandy: You're welcome. 
 
Stan: It's been a pleasure. 
 
Tamara: Yeah, right. Hey, I think it's cool you didn’t blow your stack at Troy. If I were you, I would have made him be my slave until he paid me everything I owed for breaking that vase. 
 
Stan: Why, thankyou, Tammy. That's the nicest thing you said to me all evening.
 
Tamara: Hey, Mom, did you hear that? I did good. Now we can go home and order pizza.
 
Patience: Goodie! 
 
(Fred gives a very quiet goodbye; the rest of them exit. Soon Stan and Sandy are left by themselves )
 
Stan: I can't believe he broke my China vase! My favorite thing in all the world! 
 
Sandy: I'm … I'm sorry, Stan. 
 
Stan: It meant so much to me! And nobody cares! Look at them - off sauntering into the night without a care in the world, while my Christmas is completely ruined. (He begins to cry) 
 
Sandy: Come on, Stan. I know that vase was valuable to you, but it is only a vase. You said so yourself.
 
Stan: I just said that because it's what everyone expected me to say. I didn't really mean it. Oh, how am I ever going to get over this, Sandy? The only thing I wanted for Christmas and it's broken, beyond repair. Why me, Sandy? Why me? Is God mad at me or something? I can see chickens ready to start throwing eggs at me. Oh, I just knew this would happen! 
 
(There is a knock on the door. Stan immediately snaps out of his pity party and answers it, expecting it to be one of Sandy's relatives.)
 
Stan: Hey, everything's okay, really. Don't worry about… Chip? 
 
Chip: Hi, Stan! Can I come in?
 
Stan: Of … course. This really is a surprise. 
 
Chip (to Sandy): Hi, Sandy! Good to see you after all this time.
 
Sandy: Oh, hi, Chip! You're looking well. 
 
Chip: That's because all is well with me. I'm blessed more than I can tell. … Say, I didn't want to disturb you, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by and see where you lived. I called earlier, but Stan said you had company. (takes a quick look around the house) Nice place you got here. (to Sandy): Roomy enough for you?
 
Sandy: It works. 
 
Chip: Listen, I don't want to keep you, but I was wondering if you two would like to come over to my house for an after dinner dessert. 
 
Sandy: Why, that's very nice of you, Chip.
 
Stan: Maybe some other time, Chip. I really wouldn't want to impose. 
 
Chip: It wouldn't be imposing at all. 
 
Stan: No, thanks. 
 
Chip: Are you sure?
 
Stan: Yes, I'm sure. There's been a death in the family. Very sad. 
 
Chip: Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Who was it?
 
Stan: Someone very close. 
 
Chip: Oh. … Well, if you'd like a little cheering up, you know how to get hold of me. Give me a call when you get the chance. Bye.
 
Stan and Sandy: Bye.
 
Sandy: Come again. (Chip exits. Silence as Sandy stares at Stan): You are really carrying this vase thing to the extreme. A death in the family? Come on, Stan. You're acting like no one else matters but you. 
 
Stan: Well, it was a death in a way. The death of sentimentality. Farewell, my famed antique…
 
Sandy: Snap out of it, Stan, and stop hiding out in some dream world! There are other people to think about at Christmas time beside yourself. Like Chip. And speaking of Chip, he said he called earlier. When was that? 
 
Stan: Earlier today.
 
Sandy: Then why didn't you tell me about it? 
 
Stan: It just didn't seem important. What's the big deal?
 
Sandy: He wasn't the so-called Salvation Army you were talking about, was he?
 
Stan: There are some mysteries in life that we're just not meant to share with everyone.
 
Sandy: Was he? 
 
Stan: Well, uh, you see, uh… It's like this. I mean… Yyyyes, he was. 
 
Sandy: So why did you lie to everyone? 
 
Stan: Because I couldn't bear to see him in such a sad state. 
 
Sandy: Sad state? What are you talking about? 
 
Stan: You saw him! Of all the ungrateful… Look at him! Dressed all fancy, inviting us over to his party. Like he thinks he's all that. Hah! 
 
Sandy: Sounds like you’re jealous. 
 
Stan: Hmmmph! Me jealous of him, the family's black sheep? Don't be ridiculous!
 
Sandy: You are jealous. 
 
Stan: No, I'm not.
 
Sandy: Yes, you are. But I really don't understand why. He's your brother, for heaven's sake! And you haven't seen him or talked to him in years! Or have you, and I just don't know about it? 
 
Stan: What are you saying? Are you accusing me, your own husband, of sneaking behind your back, carrying on phone conversations with my long lost brother? I thought you trusted me. 
 
Sandy: Of course I trust you. But I also know what it's like to have a younger brother. And a sister. The fights we used to have! There were times when I didn't think I wanted to see any of them ever again. Sometimes things like that happen. After all, we're all human. 
 
Stan: Well…
 
Sandy: You can talk to me, Stan. What is it? 
 
Stan: It's just that - I try so hard to make people happy, but it's never enough. Chip, on the other hand, is so happy he almost makes me feel guilty. It didn't used to be that way, you know. He used to be a real turkey, and I was always bailing him out of trouble, saving his neck if you will. But did he ever appreciate it? No. But I helped him out anyway, out of the goodness of my heart. Never a thankyou. Not once. … And then three years ago something terrible happened, something I didn't want to tell you about, it was just so bad.
 
Sandy: And what was that?
 
Stan: He claims he 'met Jesus' and 'got saved.' Next thing you know Mom and Dad are saying how much they love the new Chip, how wonderful it is that he's finally got his act together. They can't wait to hear everything he's got to say. No one listens to me any more. Oh no. Instead they start saying, "Why can't you be more like Chip, Stanley?" Yeah, right. Chip. The one man Salvation Army. Oh for the good old days! Whatever happened to the Chip that I could always count on to let everybody down? 
 
(Sandy looks at Stan hard and long)
 
Sandy: So why did you keep this from me? 
 
Stan: I'm sorry, Sandy, it's just that… at the time I didn't think you'd understand. I mean, I work and scrimp and slave and no one ever appreciates it. I spend my hard earned money on expensive gifts and your family acts like it's nothing. They don't even respect my priceless heirlooms. And the time I spent learning all these lines! Then along comes Chip, who wasted half his life on wild living, and look - everybody loves him. Not because of anything he did to deserve it, either. He doesn't even have that many lines, but everybody loves him, just for being Chip. 
 
Sandy: So that's what's bugging you?
 
Stan: Yeah, that's what's bugging me.
 
Sandy: I'm sorry, Stanley, but my family and I really do appreciate all the things you do for us, even if we don't always come right out and say it. We know you work hard and make lots of sacrifices to make us happy. It's just that sometimes - please don't take this the wrong way - I think you work a little too hard. You need to take time to relax, to appreciate the gift of Christmas - the free gift of Christmas, which is that God came to earth to pay your debt of sin, and give you the free gift of His grace no matter what kind of turkey you've been over the years. He came to show you that the best things in life are the things you don't have to work for. 
 
Stan: I never thought of it that way. 
 
Sandy: That's because you've been concerned over a broken vase, Stan. And what's that compared to a human being? You see, God cares about mending broken lives. That's why He came to earth as a man, so He could mend our broken relationship with Him.
 
Stan: You mean that's what Christmas is all about?
 
Sandy: Yep. (the doorbell rings) Excuse me while I get that. (she opens the door; it's Chip again) 
 
Chip: Hey, Stan, I don't mean to be a pest, but I'd really like it if you and Sandy could come over. I know you're in mourning, but…
 
Sandy: It's not as bad as it sounds. 
 
Stan: Gee, Chip, I don't know…
 
Sandy: We'd love to. (nudges Stan). Stan?
 
Chip: How about it, Stan? 
 
Stan: Well… maybe if… 
 
Chip: I'm not taking 'no' for an answer.
 
Stan: You're not?
 
Chip: No, I'm not. And just to make sure you come, I'm giving you this a card (hands them a card) in case you wanted a formal invitation - I know how you are about cards, Stan…
 
Stan: That would be a first. I sent you enough of them over the years. … But you never wrote back. 
 
Chip: I called.
 
Stan: It's not the same thing. You know that. 
 
Chip: I know. Sorry I'm not very good with cards. I tried to hand write this, but had to use a computer program instead. 
 
Sandy: That was very thoughtful of you. And inventive, too. 
 
Stan (looking at the card): I see you did put some effort into this.
 
Chip: Go ahead and read it.
 
Stan: Well, all right. Here goes. 
 
Chip: To my big brother…
 
Stan: I was getting to it. To my big brother Stan…
 
Chip: The best brother in the entire world…
 
Stan: Who bailed me out…
 
Chip: Numerous times when I didn't deserve it.
 
Stan (choking up): He's the best…
 
Chip: He's the best older brother a guy could ever have. 
 
Stan: You actually took the time to type this. I didn't know you could type.
 
Chip: Actually, I dictated it to my secretary. But it's my words.
 
Stan: It's… it's very…
 
Sandy: Very genuine. And thoughtful, too. 
 
Stan: Right. 
 
Chip: Listen, Stan. I know I haven't been the easiest guy to live with over the years. But you really do mean a lot to me. (tells Sandy): Bailed me out of jail more times than I can remember, way back in the day. He was always there when I needed him. 
 
Sandy: So I hear. 
 
Chip: What do you say, Stan? After all you've done for me over the years, I'd sort of like to make it up to you. Please reconsider coming over to the house?
 
Stan: Well… Do you have any eggnog?
 
Chip: Nonalcoholic. If that's all right with you, that is. 
 
Sandy: That's fine with us.
 
Stan: I, uh…
 
Chip: Mom and Dad will be there too. 
 
Sandy: We'd be delighted!
 
Chip: That's great! We'd love to have you. The more the merrier. Come on over and bring the whole family if you like. 
 
Sandy: Stan? 
 
Stan (very moved): Oh, why not? Round 'em up and bring them along. This will be the best family Christmas ever. And the best part is, I didn't do anything to deserve it. 
 
.................................................................................... 
© Nancy Bucca, all rights reserved. The script may not be reproduced, translated or copied in any medium, including books, CDs and on the Internet, without written permission of the author.
This play may be performed free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged. In exchange for free performance, the author would appreciate being notified of when and for what purpose the play is performed. She may be contacted at: cnbucca@comcast.net