A Christmas Play for the Ages

 Here is a little Christmas play to read while sipping your eggnog. Some say it is a future classic. Others are repelled by the thought of eggnog.

It’s a Wonderful Nose

 

Narrator: We open in a dark apartment, sparsely decorated for Christmas. There is soft, sad Christmas music playing. Rudolph, the famous crimson-nosed reindeer sits alone, depressed, and contemplating his life.

Rudolph: Oh, woe is me. I’m so miserable and unimportant. It’s Christmas Eve and nobody calls me. They don’t need me any more. Just like always. Life has no meaning any more. Nobody needs me. I can’t face another Christmas. I am going to eat this liverwurst and end it all.

Narr: As most people know, liverwurst is deadly poison to reindeer.

Rudolph: Good-bye, cruel world.

Narr: Suddenly, there is a flash of light and a ghost appears, decked out in a garish  Christmas sweater and a Santa hat.

Ghost: Hey, ho! What’s all this? Put down that liverwurst!

Rudolph: What in the—Who are you?

Ghost: I am the Ghost of Christmas Present.

Rudolph: Christmas presents?

Ghost: No. Present. As in present tense. I’ve been sent here to show you you’re wrong about yourself, that your life does have meaning, that you are important.

Rudolph: You’re wrong. I’m going to end it all, Mr. Present.

Ghost: You can’t!

Rudolph: I wish I’d never been born.

Ghost: Oh, ho! That’s it.

Rudolph: What’s it?

Ghost: I’m going to show you how wrong you are, little friend. We’re going to show you what the world would be like if you’d never been born.

Rudolph: We?

Ghost: Yes. Hey, GC Past! Come over here.

Narr: There is another flash of light and the Ghost of Christmas Past enters. He is wearing a green velour bathrobe and pajamas. On his feet are fuzzy slippers.

Ghost: May I present the Ghost of Christmas Past. This is Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

GCPast: Nice to meet you.

Rudolph: It’s a pleasure. What’s he here for?

GCPast: We’re going to take a little trip down memory lane. Here. Hold my sleeve.

Rudolph: I can’t. I have hooves, not hands.

GCPast: Oh. Well, take a mouthful of sleeve then… And here we goooo!

Narr: They drift out of the room and another place begins to take shape. We hear bells ringing and see a group of reindeer playing so-called reindeer games.

Rudolph: What is this place?

GCPast: Don’t you remember? It’s the reindeer ranch at the North Pole. It’s three days before Christmas, many years ago, the day you first arrived.

Dasher: Hey, Blitzen. Look what we have here. A new guy.

Blitzen: A new guy, eh? What’s your name, pal?

Rudolph: Rudolph.

Blitzen: Nice to meet you, Randolph. I’m Blitzen. This is Dasher.

Rudolph: The name’s Rudolph, not –

Dasher: Hey, gang! Come on over and meet the new guy.

Blitzen: This is Dasher.

Dasher: Hi.

Blitzen: Prancer, Cupid.

Cupid: Hello.

Blitzen: Comet. Meet Randolph.

Comet: Nice to meet you.

Rudolph: You too. It’s Rudolph, not –

Blitzen: This is Dancer.

Rudolph: Hello.

Blitzen: And this is Vixen.

Vixen: We were just playing some reindeer games. Would you like to join us?

Rudolph: Oh, boy! I love reindeer games.

Vixen: Great. Why  don’t you come over here and –

Cupid: Whoa! Just a minute.

Dasher: What’s the matter Cupid?

Cupid: Don’t you see it?

Vixen: What?

Cupid: Look at his nose.

Comet: It’s red!

Donner: It’s glowing… It’s shining!

(There are gasps and exclamations of astonishment)

Prancer: We can’t play reindeer games with some guy with a glowing red nose.

Dancer: You got that right, Prancer.

Donner: Yeah, games are for reindeer, not monsters.

Comet: You said it.

Cupid: Come on everybody. We’ve got games to play.

Dasher: See you round, kid.

Narr: Off they go, back to their playing. Leaving poor Rudolph and the Ghost.

Rudolph: Ghost, why are you showing me this sad memory? It makes me want to go back and gobble down that liverwurst.

GCPast: Well, things didn’t start out so well, I know. Let’s fast forward a little way – to Christmas Eve.

Rudolph: Hey, guys. What’s going on?

Dasher: Oh look who it is. Randolph the red-nosed weirdo.

Rudolph: My name’s not Randolph it’s –

Comet: Hey Freakazoid. How’s everything?

(Laughing and general derision ensue.)

Rudolph: They used to laugh and call me names.

GCPast: Well, they were about to learn a valuable lesson.

Donner: Hey, Blitzen, kick that ball over here.

Blitzen: Where is it, Donner? This fog is getting really thick and I can’t see where it is.

Vixen: Gee. It’s starting to get bad.

Dasher: It sure is.

Comet: I hope it goes away soon or we won’t be able to pull Santa’s sleigh tonight.

Cupid: It’s like pea soup!

Prancer: We can’t fly in this.

Dancer: What are we going to do?

Narr: Suddenly, into this scene of uncertainty the big man himself arrives. He’s jolly, fat, bearded, decked out all in red with white trim, around his waist a black belt with a large buckle.

Santa: Ho, ho, ho!

Rudolph: There he is! My old boss.

GCPast: Good old Santa Claus.

Santa: Ho, ho, ho!

Narr: The reindeer abandon their games and gather around Santa.

Cupid: Oh, Santa. Look at this awful fog.

Donner: It’s too thick.

Dasher: We’ll never be able to fly in this pea soup.

Vixen: This is one foggy Christmas Eve. What are we going to do?

(There is a cacophony of questions and exclamations from all the reindeer.)

Santa: Silence!... (Immediate silence, awkward pause) I mean – Ho, ho, ho! Don’t worry. I think I have the answer right here. Rudolph, with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?

Rudolph: Me?

Blitzen: Yeah! (There is a chorus of excited reindeer begging Rudy to do it)

Rudolph: Silence! (Immediate silence, awkward pause) Er, I mean… Yes, I’ll do it!

All: Hooray!

Santa: Ho, ho, ho! You’ve saved Christmas, my boy. What a wonderful nose!

(They all cheer and the cheering fades into the background.)

GCPast: And then all the reindeer loved you.

Rudolph: Boy oh boy. That was great.

GCPast: You went down in history that night. Let’s head back, Rudolph. Here, grab my sleeve.

Rudolph: But I don’t have hands, remember.

GCPast: I know. I know. Hooves. Just bite, Rudolph. Here we gooo!

Narr: And with that, the two find themselves back at Rudolph’s apartment. The Ghost of Christmas Present is there, sipping egg nog.

Ghost: Back so soon?

Rudolph: Yes. He showed me how important I used to be.

GCPast: Hey now, young buck. That wasn’t the point.

Ghost: Hmm. All right. Give him to me, GC Past. I am the Ghost of Christmas Present, so I’ll show you a few things. Hold on to my sleeve.

GCPast: He can’t. He only has hooves.

Ghost: Okay. I’ll grab your antler then.

Narr: Again, the room recedes and another comes into focus. It is a small, dingy living room, modestly decorated with a few Christmas stockings. We see the Cratchit family, Bob, Mrs Cratchit and Tiny Tim, who is just putting the star on top of a pitiful little Christmas tree.

Rudolph: Where are we, Ghost? Who are these people?

Ghost: This is the Cratchit family. It’s Christmas Eve. Today.

Bob: Good boy, Tim. That star looks splendid on the tree.

Tim: I’m so excited, father. It’s Christmas Eve and tonight Santa Claus will bring us all presents.

Mrs Cratchit: Of course he will, dear. But we all know that presents don’t make it Christmas, Tim.

Bob: Yes, Tim. You remember how when the Grinch stole all the presents in Whoville, they still sang and celebrated.

Tim: Oh, Father, you’re such a kidder.

Mrs Cratchit: Come now, young man. Grab your crutch and head off to bed.

Tim: Yes, Mother. Good night. Good night, Father. And God bless us all – everyone!

Bob: Good night. Merry Christmas.

Narr: Tiny Tim exits, visions of sugarplums dancing in his head.

Mrs Cratchit: Oh, Bob. I’m starting to worry about this dreadful fog. However will Santa Claus get here in this pea soup? If he can’t make it here, our dear children won’t get any toys tomorrow. They will all be crushed, especially Tiny Tim. He’s so delicate. What will become of him if Santa doesn’t come?

Bob: There, there, my dear. Santa has never let us down before. He won’t let us down now.

Rudolph: I wouldn’t worry too much, Mrs Cratchit.

Ghost: She can’t hear you, my boy.

Rudolph: Are these real people?

Ghost: Of course they are. And there are many more like them, all over the world.

Rudolph: Gosh.

Ghost: Yes. Gosh is right. You don’t want to let them down, do you?

Rudolph: Oh, it’s not up to me, Mr Present. I’m not that important any more. They’ve been getting along without me for years now.

Ghost: Really? You’ve still got that ‘I’m unimportant. Nobody needs me’ bee in your bonnet? Maybe you need to see a Christmas future – a future in a world where you’ve never been born. Let’s head  back home. I want you to meet somebody. Here we gooo!

Narr: They are back in the apartment. There is a mysterious figure with his back to us. We hear ominous music.

Ghost: This (indicating mystery figure) is the Ghost of Christmas Future.

Narr: The figure turns slowly around, revealing a pleasant looking old gentleman in an old suit.

Ghost: His name is Clarence. He is here to show you what you wish for, a world where you have never been born.

Rudolph: He looks like the kind of Ghost of Christmas Future I’d get.

Clarence: Well, I’m still only a Ghost Second Class. But my helping you might just be what pushes me up to the next level.

Ghost: Okay, Clarence. You know what to do. Grab onto – bite down on his sleeve and off you go!

Clarence: Careful, Rudolph. This suit is 130  years old.

Narr: Everything goes dark. The lights come up gradually, but there is an eerie fog enveloping the scene.

Rudolph: Oh look. We’re back at the North Pole. It’s so foggy. Hey! There’s the sleigh filled with toys. And the other reindeer, just standing around. Hey, Blitzen! Shouldn’t you guys be getting ready?

Clarence: Nobody can hear you, Rudolph. You’ve never been born.

Blitzen: What are we gonna do? We can’t see in this fog. How’s Santa supposed to deliver all these toys in this pea soup?

Comet: We can try that thing where Santa duct tapes a flashlight to one of us again.

Donner: That didn’t work the last time we tried it.

Comet: Yeah, you’re right. I still  have the scars to prove it.

Prancer: If the fog doesn’t lift in the next half hour Santa’s going to have to resort to Plan B.

Dancer: Plan B? You mean…?

Prancer: That’s right – the Elfmobile.

(Everybody groans)

Cupid: That’s not going to work. Those silly elves never even put snow tires on it.

Dancer: Those little so-and-sos are great little helpers, but they sure lack initiative.

Rudolph. Oh. Here comes Santa.

(The reindeer gather around him)

Santa: Hello. Er- I mean, ho, ho, ho. Merry Christmas… Oh, who am I trying to kid. I’ve got some bad news everyone.

Vixen: We’re going to start late?

Santa: No, Vixen. According to Accuweather, this fog isn’t going to lift for days. And I’ve got no way to see through it and steer us through.

Dasher: If only one of us had a glowing, shining red nose. That could illuminate our way and get us through this horrid fog.

Prancer: Yeah, that’s what we need. And if such a reindeer ever existed, we wouldn’t ever make fun of him or laugh at him or anything.

Dancer: He’d be celebrated in song. He’d go down in history.

Santa: That would be great, Dancer. But such a special reindeer has never been born.

Rudolph: [Gasp!]

Santa: What a world. Well, anyway. I won’t be needing you tonight. You may as weill go to bed and try to forget all this sad stuff – maybe get in a few reindeer games or something. Me- I’m going to spend Christmas Eve with Jim Beam. Ho, ho, ho!

(The stage darkens, except for a spot on Rudolph and Clarence)

Rudolph: Oh, no! But Santa –

Clarence: Let’s go, Rudolph. We’ve got one more stop on this Tour de Misery.

Narr: They find themselves back in the dingy Cratchit living room. It’s early morning. Christmas morning. Christmas Future morning.

Rudolph: I remember this place. It belongs to that poor Cratchit family. Clarence, how come I don’t see any presents under the tree? Isn’t it Christmas?

Clarence: Yes.

Narr: Mr and Mrs Cratchit enter the scene. They’ve just gotten out of bed and find an unpleasant surprise

Mrs Cratchit: Oh no! Bob, he didn’t come. Santa didn’t come. It must be the fog. What are we going to do? The children will be crushed, crestfallen, disappointed, broken-hearted, disconsolate –

Bob: Dear! I get it.

Mrs Cratchit: Especially Tiny Tim. He’s so delicate, Bob. Oh, Christmas is ruined.

Bob: There, there, my dear. There must be a reason for all this. Maybe the children were naughty this year?

Mrs Cratchit: No, Bob, no. They were perfect angels all year. Especially Tiny Tim.

Bob: I just don’t get it. We were counting on Santa to bring presents. There’s only one thing we can do now.

Mrs Cratchit: You mean –

Bob: Yes, dear. I’ve got to take the ten dollar bonus I got from Mr Scrooge and run out to Drug Mart for last minute gifts.

Mrs Cratchit: Oh, I guess so. But what if the children come down in the meantime?

Bob: I don’t know. Maybe you can have a fire drill or something. I gotta go. (He races off)

Rudolph: Clarence, this is awful! Why didn’t Santa deliver the presents to these nice people? Were they naughty?

Clarence: No! They weren’t naughty. Haven’t you been paying attention here? It was the fog, Rudolph, The sleigh couldn’t fly in the fog. It’s like pea soup out there for goodness sakes.

Rudolph: You’re saying that without my nose to guide the sleigh they had to cancel Christmas?

Clarence: That is exactly what I’m saying. And it’s not just here, Rudolph. It’s all over the world. Children everywhere are crushed, crestfallen, disappointed, broken-hearted, disconsolate, dispirited, un ---

Rudolph: I get it, I get it ...  And it’s all because little old Rudolph was never born?

Clarence: Yep.

Rudolph: Gosh. I thought I was so unimportant, that nobody needed me.

Clarence: You were wrong, my friend. You are important. You are needed. The world needs you. The world misses you.

Rudolph: Clarence, are these sad scenes real? Or are these all just shadows of things that might be or just would have been or some such alternate reality type deal? In other words, can this be changed somehow?

Narr: Suddenly, we hear Tiny Tim’s voice offstage.

Tim: Mother? Father? It’s Christmas. As soon as I find my crutch I’ll be downstairs to see the presents. Come, my beloved brothers and sisters. Let’s go down and see what Santa brought.

(We hear commotion and excitement from Tim and his siblings)

Rudolph: Great jumping mistletoe! Clarence! We can’t let this happen. The children can’t see this. Please! Don’t let this happen…I want to live! Bring me back Clarence. Please. Bring me back.

Narr: The lights go down momentarily and we hear the Christmas music we heard playing at the beginning. As the lights come up we see Rudolph, alone in his apartment. There is banging heard on his door as he wakes from his altered state.

Blitzen: Open up, Rudolph. What’s going on?

Narr: Rudolph jumps up and runs to the door and opens it.

Rudolph: Blitzen!  Donner! What are you doing here?

Blitzen: Finally…Where have you been? We’ve been trying to call you forever. It’s Christmas Eve. We need you. Come on!

Donner: Yeah. Don’t you ever answer your phone?

Rudolph: My phone? (He realizes his mistake) Oh yeah. I turned it to do not disturb mode so I could take a nap. Has all this been a bad dream?

Blitzen: Some nap. We’ve been worried sick about you, kid. Grab your phone and call Santa and let him know you’re alive.

Donner: We need you today, Rudolph. I’ve never seen such a thick fog. Bring that wonderful nose of yours and let’s go. It’s time to save Christmas.

Rudolph: A dream…

Blitzen: Call the Big Guy first.

(Rudolph pulls out his phone and dials)

Rudolph: Hello?...Santa? This is Rudolph… Yeah, thanks. I’m happy to hear you, too… I left my phone off… I understand there’s some trouble tonight… Right… I’m on my way… Be there in a few minutes… Merry Christmas to you, too. Bye. Let’s go, friends. What a dream!

Narr: The three rush out and slam the door. We hear a voice coming from the opposite direction. It’s the Ghost of Christmas Past. He’s waving at the departed reindeer.

GCPast: Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night. (He enters in his robe and PJs) Hey, Clarence,  did you happen to see where he put that liverwurst?

Some Problems with Time Travel

    Call me a wet blanket, but I must point out certain difficulties in the whole concept of time travel. Now I know that people love stories of time traveling, either forward into the future or back to the past, and many often speculate about it happening in reality. There have been countless films, television shows, books, comic books, commercials, cartoons and who-knows-what centered on people traveling through time. It would certainly be nifty if it were a reality, opening up all kinds of interesting possibilities and complications. Unfortunately, I don't think it can happen without overcoming some major, seemingly insurmountable problems. And by the way, it isn't nice to use the term wet blanket to describe somebody, so I take back that first sentence.

    Suppose a person, we'll call him Harvey, wants to travel back in time, to 1860, to warn President-elect Abraham Lincoln that he is in grave danger of looking silly if he grows a beard without also growing a mustache. And suppose Harvey also has what is thought to be a working model of a time machine. The first thing he should do is to put it in a vehicle and drive it to Springfield, Illinois. That way, he doesn't have to lug the thing across country on horseback or on a train. Then, Harvey goes to a field outside of town, but within walking distance of Abe's place. There he dons the helmet, protective suit, goggles and gloves that come standard with the time machine, and sits on the seat inside the machine. He fires it up and sets it for "Right here, November 1860" and pulls the switch. 

    Here is where one of the biggest problems of time travel rears its ugly head. "Here, November 1860" is a place in the universe where Springfield is when Harvey pulls the switch. However, this place in the universe back in 1860 did not contain Springfield, nor even the Earth. The Earth was not here yet. It was immeasurably far away, rotating around the Sun, spinning on its axis in the solar system, part of a galaxy hurtling through the universe at high speed, only ending up here at the very moment he pulls the switch. Unfortunately for Harvey, when he pulls the switch he gets sent, not to the field outside Springfield, but to a lonely spot in outer space, empty, airless and pitch black. He's dead. And none the wiser, Abe Lincoln never grows his mustache, and the body of poor Harvey just floats around in deep space forever, or until the Earth smacks into it in the 21st Century.

    The point is that a time traveler is sent to a time and a place, and the place on Earth that he's aiming for is nowhere near the spot in space that it occupies in the present. How can he go to where the Earth used to be? Isn't it enough of a problem just devising and building a machine to take you to a different time? Now you've got to make sure it sends you, with pinpoint accuracy, to a different part of the universe. The mind boggles, as well it should.

    So any machine that travels through time must also travel through space, too. But suppose, (you retort, haughtily) such an amazing technology is invented and that the machine can actually send the traveler to the correct spot in the universe? Where's the problem now, Mr Fishbrick? I don't know, Haughty Questioner. How good is your machine? What if Harvey goes to that field outside of Springfield, his

special suit filled with brochures depicting comely mustaches, he pulls the switch, he goes to the exact right time, 1860, and to the exact right space in the universe, on Earth, where it was then, in Springfield. But then it turns out that back then, in that exact place, there sat a majestic elm tree, wind wafting through its branches. And now Harvey and his time/space machine and the elm tree are all somehow melded together as one - a horrifying half-man, half-machine, half-tree, half-mustache brochure; too many halves for one space. It's something too awful to contemplate, even for an alleged wet blanket like me. How does your machine overcome a problem like that? Or perhaps Harvey travels ten thousand years into the future, but what was once a field in Springfield is now a hill, and he is engulfed deep inside of it. Or it is now a lake, filled with hungry piranhas, and nobody thought to make his special suit nibble-proof. What if Harvey goes way back in time and ends up with his head inside a mastodon who just happened to be wandering by, minding his own business?

    I can probably come up with ten thousand scenarios that would spell doom to our Harvey, or at least mild embarrassment. And yet we rarely see such disastrous consequences depicted in movies, books and television shows. Mostly, their unforeseen consequences involve awkward romances or belligerent apes or fierce dinosaurs, never the logistical, physical nightmares such as I've illustrated above. If human beings want to travel back and forth through time, I think there are just too many obstacles in the way. I just don't see us overcoming those. Sorry.  I hate to be a wet blanket.