Script Of An Play Called Peanuts English Literature Essay

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The play is set in a small, city café. Three tables are occupied with one waitress serving all. There are extras in the background also being served.



An average male in his late twenties is sitting alone at a table drinking coffee he stares into space. His appearance is slightly unkempt, with uncombed hair and an untucked shirt.

Alison: A blonde female in her mid-20's is dressed in pink with giant bug eyed sunglasses that cover her face. It is clear that she takes care of herself, unlike Mike, right down to the tiny, fake Chihuahua in her handbag.

Alison walks through the restaurant with purpose, expecting all eyes to be on her, which they are. The bell on the café door rings, and Mike turns around to see his girlfriend Alison entering. The extras turn to look at Alison as Mike stands up to greet her.


There is one female extra reading a newspaper/magazine at one table and two females in their early twenties chatting to one another at the opposite table.


There is a subtle spotlight on the two main characters sitting at the high table. The background lighting dims as the couple begin to argue but the spotlight remains on them dimming slightly to portray the overall mood change.

The Lighting fades back up and brightens as the waitress comes into the picture.


One high table with two stools for the main characters

Two tables with two chairs each for the extras

Table cloths for the two extra's adjacent tables in the background

A fake dog for Alison's purse

Diet coke, coffee cups, sugar and serviettes for the tables

A notepad & pen for the waitress

An apron and tray for the waitress

A laptop/magazine for the extras

Sound: There is a background noise of typical café hustle and bustle and bell ring as Alison enters the stage.


MIKE: Hey.

(Mike pecks her on the cheek, but Alison: backs away.)

ALISON: Watch it. You'll smear my makeup.

MIKE: Oh, Sorry.

(They take seats across from each other at the table)

(Alison looks unimpressed)

ALISON: Did you wear those clothes yesterday?

MIKE: No, these are clean. Well, the jeans I wore yesterday, but everything else is new. Why?

ALISON: I don't know. Just looks like you wore those clothes yesterday.

MIKE: Just the jeans.

ALISON: Yeah, I got it.

(An awkward silence.)

MIKE: So, uh, what's up?


(A pretty waitress, in her mid-twenties walks up.)

WAITRESS: Can I get you anything?

ALISON: Diet coke.

(Alison says flatly.)

WAITRESS: Anything else?

ALISON: Did I order anything else?

(Mike looks away, uncomfortable.)

WAITRESS: Be right back.

(Mike leans in close to Alison and speaks in a hushed tone.)

MIKE: You know, you didn't have to do that. She was just being nice.

ALISON: No, she was being incompetent. I ordered a diet coke. That's all I want.

MIKE: Well, yeah, but…

ALISON: Enough, okay? I don't have time for this.

MIKE: Got somewhere to be, do you?

ALISON: I do, actually.

MIKE: Where you headed?

ALISON: (Smirks) A date.

(Mike chuckles.)

MIKE: A date? That's a good one.

ALISON: Mike, I'm serious.

(Mike stops laughing.)

ALISON: I asked you to meet me here because I can't do this anymore. We need to break up.

MIKE: (Mocking tone) Lemme guess. The old "It's not you, it's me" routine, right?

ALISON: Oh no, it's definitely you.

MIKE: Haha that's a new one.

ALISON: We have absolutely nothing in common. I like fine art, you like football. I appreciate good dining, while you like going to Mac Donalds. I care about my appearance and you... well.

(Alison looks him up and down.)

MIKE: Can you do me a favour?


MIKE: Take off the sunglasses. We're inside.

ALISON: My eyes are all puffy.

MIKE: Please. Just as a courtesy.

ALISON: Ugh, fine.

(Alison takes off her sunglasses. There is not a single sign of puffiness.)

MIKE: Thank you.

ALISON: You're a loser Mike and I just can't be seen with someone like you, not now or ever.

(Mike catches a glimpse of the waitress, who watches the scene from another table. She turns away when she sees him look after giving him a slight, sympathetic look.)

ALISON: So, I just needed to tell you that. I figured that even you deserved to be told in person. Have a nice life.

(Alison gets up, and Mike takes hold of her hand.)

MIKE: Hold on a second.

ALISON: Mike, don't do this. I'm sure this is hard enough on you as it is. Please don't embarrass yourself by begging.

MIKE: Just sit back down for a second. Let me say a few things, and then you're free to go on your date or whatever it is you do.

(Alison rolls her eyes.)


(Mike exchanges a glance with the waitress as Alison sits down. Alison doesn't notice it.)

ALISON: Alright, go ahead, but nothing you say is going to change things. It's over!

MIKE: Yeah, yeah, fine. Just shut your mouth, would you?

(Alison is shocked.)

ALISON: Excuse me?

MIKE: I said shut your mouth. You're done talking, it's my turn now.

You know, I could have just let you walk right on out of here. Even though the sooner you get out of here, the sooner I never have to look at your face again, you just can't get away with telling me that you set up a date before you came in over here to break up with me.

ALISON: Well I did. Oh well, too bad.

MIKE: You're a pathetic individual; you're a victim to the latest fashion and pop culture trend.


"Oh, well Paris Hilton keeps a little dog in her purse, so I have to too". Well, you know what else Paris Hilton does? She fucks her boyfriend on camera. Did you ever feel the urge to do that? No.

ALISON: On camera? Gross.

MIKE: And to top it off, your dog isn't even real. What the hell is that all about?

ALISON: Real dogs poop. Peanuts doesn't.

MIKE: You think of that one all by yourself, genius? That's another thing. You're incredibly stupid. What the hell was I thinking staying with you all this time? You were absolutely right, we have nothing in common.

ALISON: Are you done?

MIKE: You're a horrible person, Alison. You've done nothing but insult me as long as we've been together.

It's all over and done with, and I can finally say what I was afraid to say for the better part of our relationship...

Alison, go f…

(Suddenly the waitress swoops in and plants a long, hard kiss on Mike's lips. Mike's eyes pop open in shock, and widen even more when he realizes it's the waitress kissing him.)

(The waitress breaks the kiss and looks to Alison.)

WAITRESS: We've been fucking a lot.

(Alison sighs, unimpressed.)

ALISON: Ugh, whatever. You two losers have fun making unattractive, incompetent babies.

(Alison puts on her sunglasses and abruptly leaves the restaurant Mike sits, still frozen in shock the waitress takes a seat across from him in the booth.)


MIKE: Uh...hello

WAITRESS: Sorry about that, but I could see where you were going with it and something had to be done.

MIKE: What was wrong with where I was going with it?

WAITRESS: Not enough pizazz. You tell her to go fuck herself, she gets mildly angry and leaves. You tell her you were sleeping with somebody else while you were together, that's gonna sit with her.

MIKE: She seemed okay when she walked out.

WAITRESS: That's what she wants you to think. She's calm and collected now, but later on, possibly when she's on her date with the newest poor bastard, it's gonna click, and she'll break down right then and there. It's very ninja like in how it sneaks up on you.

(Mike smiles.)

MIKE: Yeah, I have to say that is better than what I had. Thanks, uh...

(Mike looks at her name tag. It says Waitress.)

MIKE: ...Waitress? Is that really your name?

WAITRESS: Haha no not actually, my name is Amy, can I get you anything else?

MIKE: Nah, I think that'll be it. Thanks.

WAITRESS: You sure? There's really nothing else you'd like?

MIKE: Uh, no. can't think of anything else at the moment.

WAITRESS: Alrighty.

(Waitress puts the bill on the table, face down, and walks away. Mike picks it up and looks at it. No charge and it has her phone number on it.)

(Mike looks up with a smile. Amy smiles back.)

WAITRESS: You know, it would have been so much cooler if you said you wanted it.

MIKE: Hey, gimme a break. I just got back into the game.

They share a laugh.