THE FANTASTICS
This morning a bird woke me up. It was a lark, or a peacock; something like that.
So I said hello. And it vanished, flew away, the very moment I said hello! It was quite mysterious. So do you know what I did? I went to my mirror and brushed my hair two hundred times, without stopping. And as i was brushing it, my hair turned mauve. No, honestly! Mauve! Then red. then some sort of a deep blue when the sun hit it.... I'm sixteen years old, and every day something happens to me. i don't know what to make of it. When i get up in the morning and get dressed, I can tell...something's different. I like to touch my eyelids, because they're never quite the same. oh, oh, oh! I hug myself till my arms turn blue, then
I close my eyes and cry and cry till the tears come down and I can taste them. I love to taste my tears. I am special. I am special! Please god, please, don't let me be normal!
LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS
I know you think Mr. Mushnik's too hard on me. But, I don't mind. After all, I owe him everything. He took me out of the Skid Row Home for Boys when I was just a little tyke. Gave me a warm place to sleep, under the counter. Nice things to eat like meatloaf and water. Floors to sweep and toilets to clean and every other
Sunday off. A lotta garden clubs have been calling - asking me to give lectures - imagine me, giving lectures. I never even finished grade school. And, I know I need new clothes, Audrey, but I'm a very bad shopper. I don't have good taste like you.
FUNNY GIRL
Suppose all ya ever had for breakfast was onion rolls. Then one day, in walks
(gasp) a bagel! You'd say, 'Ugh, what's that?' Until you tried it! That's my problem
- I'm a bagel on a plate full of onion rolls. Nobody recognizes me! Listen, I got 36 expressions. Sweet as pie and tough as leather. And that's six expressions more than all those...Barrymores put together. Instead of just kicking me, why don't they give me a lift? Well, it must be a plot, 'cause they're scared that I got...such a gift! 'Cause I'm the greatest star, I am by far, but no one knows it. Wait - they're gonna hear a voice, a silver flute. They'll cheer each toot, hey, she's terrific!, when I expose it. Now can't you see to look at me that I'm a natural Camille, and as Camille, I just feel, I've so much to offer. Kid, I know I'd be divine because I'm a natural cougher (coughs) - some ain't got it, not a lump. I'm a great big clump of talent! Laugh, they'll bend in half. Did you ever hear the story about the travelling salesman? A thousand jokes, stick around for the jokes. A thousand faces. I reiterate. When you're gifted, then you're gifted. These are facts, I've got no axe to grind. Ay! What are ya, blind? In all of the world so far, I'm the greatest star!
No autographs, please. What? You think beautiful girls are gonna stay in style forever? I should say not! Any minute now they're gonna be out! FINISHED!
Then it'll be my turn!

PIPPIN
You may think that what I did next was scheming, devious. Pippin, let me tell you something about despair. I loved my husband very much. The years we spent together were the happiest years of my life. And then one day he was struck by fever: and when his hand went cold in mine, I felt my life, too, was over. I was overcome by the deepest despair. I took to my bed for five days. On the sixth day
I got up. There were things to be done. An estate to be run. A boy to raise...Pippin, this is such a large estate. I'm all alone here and I can't do all this work by myself. Couldn't you please help me?
MAN OF LA MANCHA>>>DON QUIXOTE
I shall impersonate a man. His name is Alonso Quijana, a country squire no longer young. Being retired, he has much time for books. He studies them from morn till night and often through the night and morn again, and all he reads oppresses him; fills him with indignation at man's murderous ways toward man. He ponders the problem of how to make better a world where evil brings profit and virtue none at all; where fraud and deceit are mingled with truth and sincerity. He broods and broods and broods and broods and finally his brains dry up. He lays down the melancholy burden of sanity and conceives the strangest project ever imagined---to become a knight-errant, and sally forth into the world in search of adventures; to mount a crusade; to raise up the weak and those in need.
He persuades his neighbor, one Sancho Panza, a country laborer, and an honest man, if the poor may be called honest, for he was poor indeed to become his squire. He selects an ancient carthorse called Rocinante, to be the steed and the safeguard of his master's will.
These preparations made, he seizes his lance! No longer will he be plain Alonso Quijana, but a dauntless knight known as Don Quixote de La Mancha!
CHESS
( Into phone ).A lot of nerve these people have, you know. Yogurt! I mean who would have thought in an age of cold war thaw that...well, listen, David, you spend your life staring at 64 squares, you start to go a bit cuckoo after a while, I mean chess is a violent sport. David, listen to me, the chances of getting FREDDIE to pose for a photo with the
Russian are less than zero. Unless you're talking about the cover. Now that would be different, wouldn't it?
We realize that pre-publication review's a sensitive issue, but if you can give it to Meryl
Streep, you can sure as hell give it to FREDDIE Trumper without any....
What the hell are you doing? That was Time-Life. It took me twenty minutes to make that connection. (into phone)Don't you realize what we got here? Cold War revived as chess match. Headlines in the press. Among them: La Monde, Die Welt, the Times in
L.A., London, New York. This publicity could put our grandchildren through college.

MAN OF LA MANCHA… SANCHO PANZA
My lady, my master has sent me to present to you a missive, (seeing her confusion) it is a sort of letter. My master worned me to give it only into your hand (seeing her problem).
No I can't read either. But my master, foreseeing such a possibility, recited it to me so I could commit it to heart. It is no dishonor My Lady, as he explained it, noblewomen are so busy with their needlework. Embroidering banners for their knights. He said they had no time for study. I know, I don't understand it either but I can tell you from experience that knights have their own language for everything, and it's better not to ask questions because it only gets you into trouble.
CHORUS LINE
So, the day after I turned 18, I kissed the folks goodbye, got on a Trailways bus - and headed for the big bad apple. Cause I wanted to be a Rockette.
Except I had one minor problem. See, I was ugly as sin. I was ugly, skinny, homely, unattractive and flat as a pancake. Get the picture? Anyway, I got off this bus I had 87 dollars in my pocket and seven years of tap and acrobatics. I could do a hundred and eighty degree split and come up tapping the Morse Code.
Well, with that kind of talent I figured the Mayor would be waiting for me at Port
Authority. Wrong! I had to wait 6 months for an audition. Well, finally the big day came. I showed up at the Music Hall with my red patent leather tap shoes. And I did my little tap routine. And this man said to me: Can you do fankicks? - Well, sure I could do terrific fankicks. But they weren't good enough. Of course, what he was trying to tell me was...it was the way I looked, not the fankicks. So I said:
I'm gonna make on Broadway!
Well, Broadway, same story. Every audition. I mean I'd dance rings around the other girls and find myself in the alley with the other rejects. But after a while I caught on. I mean I had eyes. I saw what they were hiring. I also swiped my dance card once after an audition. And on a scale of 10....they gave me for dance 10. looks: 3.
CAMELOT
When I was a lad of eighteen, our King died in London and left no one to succeed him; only a sword stuck through an anvil which stood on a stone. Written on it in letters of gold it said: "Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise King bom

of all England." Many chaps tried to dislodge it, and none could. Finally a great tournament was proclaimed for New Year's Day, so that all the mightiest knights in
England would be assembled at one time to have a go at the sword.
I went to London as squire to my cousin, Sir Kay. The morning of the tournament, Kay discovered he'd left his sword at home and gave me a shilling to ride back to fetch it. On my way through London, I passed a square and saw there a sword rising from a stone.
Not thinking very quickly, I thought it was a war memorial. The square was deserted, so I decided to save myself a journey and borrow it. I tried to pull it out. I failed. I tried again.
I failed again. Then I closed my eyes and with all my force tried one last time. Lo, it moved in my hand. Then slowly it slid out of the stone. I heard a great roar. When I opened my eyes, the square was filled with people shouting: "Long live the King! Long live the King!" Then I looked at the sword and saw the blade gleaming with letters of gold.
That's how I became King. I never knew I would be. I never wanted to be. And since I am, I have been ill at ease in my crown. Until I dropped from the tree and my eye beheld you. Then suddenly, for the first time, I felt I was King. I was glad to be King. And most astonishing of all, I wanted to be the wisest, most heroic, most splendid King who ever sat on any throne. (There is a moment of silence) If you will come with me, Milady, I will arrange for the carriage to return you to your father.
SNOOPY
A 'C'? A 'C'? I got a 'C' on my coathanger sculpture? How could anyone get a 'C' in coathanger sculpture? May I ask a question? Was I judged on the piece of sculpture itself? If so, is it not true that time alone can judge a work of art? Or was I judged on my talent? If so, is it fair that I be judged on a part of my life over which I have no control? If I was judged on my effort, then I was judged unfairly, for I tried as hard as I could! Was I judged on what I had learned about this project? If so, then were not you, my teacher, also being judged on your ability to transmit your knowledge to me? Are you willing to share my 'C'? Perhaps I was being judged on the quality of coathanger itself out of which my creation was made...now is this not also unfair? Am I to be judged by the quality of coathangers that are used by the drycleaning establishment that returns our garments? Is that not the responsibility of my parents? Should they not share my
'C'?