MRS. RUGRAT’S BEEN MURDERED

©1987 by John Robinson Wheeler. All rights reserved.

 

SCENE THREE

 

It is a few hours later. Mr. and Mrs. Fonebone are in the lobby, looking frantic. Mr. Fonebone is pacing back and forth. The maid is dusting the room, and Mr. Frugal is sitting to the side on a chair, deep in thought.

MRS. FONEBONE:

I can't take much more of this. I'm going to lie down!

MR. FONEBONE:

Ok. I'll be with you in a minute.

 

Mrs. Fonebone exits to the right and Mrs. Slalom enters from the left.

MRS. SLALOM:

What do you think we should do with Mr. Slapstick's belongings?

MR. FONEBONE:

Doesn't he have any family?

MRS. SLALOM:

No, I checked earlier.

 

Mr. Fonebone doesn't know what to say, and it is rather a grim manner to consider. He resumes pacing for a bit, then looks up again.

MR. FONEBONE:

Maybe we should call all the guests in here. Maybe we should work some things out?

MRS. SLALOM:

As in..?

MR. FONEBONE:

I'll think of something.

MRS. SLALOM:

Oh, very well.

 

She exits.

MR. FONEBONE: (to Mr. Frugal) 

You seem to be deep in thought.. what's on your mind?

MR. FRUGAL:

This murder. I don't know. Just seems... strange. I don't know. Maybe it was the panic of the moment, but..

MR. FONEBONE:

Yes, I know what you mean. (the door to the right opens and Mrs. Slalom leads most of the guests in.)  Where are Mr. Cudgel and Miss Bayleef?

MRS. SLALOM:

I believe Mr. Cudgel had a convention to attend, and Miss Bayleef should be down shortly.

 

Mr. Fonebone clears his throat and stands apart from the group. He beginsto envision himself as a master detective as he speaks.

MR. FONEBONE:  

I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here. We have a matter to attend to — the matter of a MURDER!

 

Everyone cringes at the word, and Fonebone clears his throat again. MissBayleef enters as he begins again.

MR. FONEBONE:

Murder. Gruesome thing. Now, I'm no expert on this, but since we all were in the room with Mr. Slapstick, any one of us could be..

MR. SANDBAG: (interrupting) 

I wasn't.

MRS. SLALOM:

Yes, and neither was I.

MR. FONEBONE:

You both are still under suspect as we have no idea as to the cause of death — especially you , Mr. Sandbag. Now, I'm no detective, but...

 

Harry comes in through front door, soaking wet.

HARRY:

Hi! (Everyone stares.)  Uh.. boy, sure is raining out there?

MR. FONEBONE: (who has lost his train of thought)

Is it?

HARRY:

No, I just thought I'd take a shower with my clothes on to surprise you all. (He takes his fishing hat off and shakes it)  So... what's going on here?

MR. FONEBONE:

I gathered everyone here to try and figure this murder out. Right now our most likely suspect is (he whirls around and points at Mr. Sandbag)  .. YOU, Mr. Sandbag!

MR. SANDBAG: (defensive)

Hey, now WAIT a minute!

MR. FONEBONE:

Just where did you go to when the lights went out a second time, Mr. Sandbag?

MR. SANDBAG:

Listen here, Fonebone...!

MR. FONEBONE: (cutting him off) 

Isn't it TRUE that YOU crept off and hid poor Mr. Slapstick's BODY?! ISN'T THAT RIGHT?!

 

He shakes his finger mightily at Mr. Sandbag, who flusters.

MR. SANDBAG:

Just who do you think you are accusing me of...

HARRY: (cutting him off) 

He sure isn't a detective!

 

Harry laughs quietly. Mr. Fonebone isn't listening, because he's been gearing up for the big statement.

MR. FONEBONE:

Mr. Fredrick Sandbag, I hereby declare that YOU are GUILTY of murdering Mr. Slapstick!

 

He makes a grand gesture to the door to the right, pointing out the room of the "killing." At that exact moment, the door opens and Mr. Slapstick, holding a toothbrush and wearing a bathrobe walks calmly in and peers around. Mr. Fonebone's mouth gapes in surprise, and everyone is in great shock. After his initial surprise, Harry seems to smile to himself.

MR. SLAPSTICK:

Er... hello. Does anyone have some toothpaste? I've just run out and... (he stares at everyone)  and... (they all gape back)  .. oh, never mind.

 

Mr. Slapstick exits and shuts the door quietly. There is a short pause during which everyone shuffles around in a stupor. Mr. Frugal falls back into the chair he was standing next to. Harry steps forward a little and stares at Mr. Fonebone.

HARRY:

Well, we have the murderer identified, all right.. now all we need is the victim!

 

Everyone except Mr. Fonebone smirks a little, a few give some nervous chuckles. There is another long pause, and Mr. Lintball breaks the silence this time.

MR. LINTBALL:

Uh, what do you say we all get to bed and worry about it some more in the morning?

 

Mr. Fonebone ecomes more himself again, but is still a little embarassed at his outburst toward Mr. Sandbag

MR. FONEBONE:

I think that's a good idea. Everyone to bed, folks. (he stares at his watch)  Wow, is that the time?

 

Everyone begins to file out, talking softly about the day's events. Mr. Fonebone approaches Mr. Sandbag, who is the last to leave.

MR. FONEBONE:

Uh.. Mr. Sandbag? Fred?

MR. SANDBAG: (grimly) 

YES?

MR. FONEBONE:

I'm sorry I accused you of murder. It won't happen again.

MR. SANDBAG:

See that it doesn't. Goodnight.

 

Mr. Sandbag exits. Mr. Fonebone walks over to the counter.

MR. FONEBONE:

Who would think running a hotel would be so frantic?

 

He begins to put things away for the night when suddenly there is a ruckus offstage right. Mr. Slapstick runs in again.

MR. SLAPSTICK:

Hurry! Come quickly! Something horrible has happened to Miss Bayleaf!

 

Mr. Fonebone gives a look of horror, and the lights fade. There is complete silence.

 

Scene 4