By Craig Sodaro

© Copyright 2008, by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc.

Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that a royalty must be paid for every performance, whether or not admission is charged. All inquiries regarding rights should be addressed to Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., PO Box 4267, Englewood, CO 80155.

Rights to this play—including but not limited to amateur, professional, and translation into foreign languages—are controlled by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., without whose permission no performance, reading or presentation of any kind in whole or in part may be given.

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1. The full name of the play2. The full name of the playwright3. The following notice: “Produced by special arrangement with

Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., Englewood, Colorado”

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MURDER MOST FOWL

By CRAIG SODARO

CAST OF CHARACTERS# of lines

BONNIE BIRD .......................... principal of Pickachick High 67School

CAP’N CURRY ......................... founder of Chicken Hut chain 74of restaurants; one tough chick

RICH GRAIVEE ......................... Let’s Eat Network executive 101BURGUNDY DIVAN ................... ambitious newspaper reporter 112CARLA CAPON ......................... Burgundy’s partner 84PLACIDO PAELLA ..................... Spanish chef 48CLAUDINE CASSOULET ............ French chef 49SOPHIA CACCIATORE ............... Italian chef 58PHILLIP PARTRIDGE ................. English chef 58QUINCY QUAYLE ...................... high school student 33LORI ....................................... another 21MARCY ................................... another 18ALLEN .................................... another 20STACIE ................................... another 16PRUNELLA PARTRIDGE ............. Phillip’s wife 37BEULAH BROODER .................. head school cafeteria cook 20DR. FELIX FEATHERS………… .. studio audience member 17WANDA SCHLEMHOLZ……….. . another 9CHESTER ................................ another 9MYRNA ................................... another 10ELOISE ................................... another 10OPTIONAL EXTRAS ................... as studio audience members n/a*BOB ..................................... substitute chef 2

*The part of BOB is a cameo role ideally played by your school principal, coach, teacher, etc.

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SETTINGTime: Now.Place: The cafeteria of Pickachick High School.There are two EXITS: RIGHT leads to other areas of the school including the main door and the restrooms; LEFT leads to the kitchen and janitor’s closet. There is a raised platform UP CENTER large enough for three or four people to stand on. Behind it on the upstage wall hangs a sign reading, “Cap’n Curry’s International Chicken Feed Contest.” A large picture of a chicken dominates the sign. Also on the upstage wall are signs reading “Congratulations, Pickachick High” and “Winner—Let’s Eat Network Essay Contest.” A long table for the chefs is CENTER, perhaps covered with a tablecloth. Four paper bags stuffed with food sit on the table as well as a large (plastic) cleaver, fi ve pens, a cordless microphone and an “Applause” sign. A school food service counter UP LEFT has a sign proclaiming “Salad Bar, Sandwiches, Snacks.” A table DOWN LEFT has three chairs. A similar table DOWN RIGHT is set with fi ve chairs. Seven or more chairs facing center stage sit EXTREME DOWN RIGHT. These chairs are for the STUDIO AUDIENCE and the two audience members selected at random.Since this is a special event, the set can be decorated with balloons and streamers or even with fl ags of the various nations participating in the Chicken Feed Contest.

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Murder M

ost Fowl - S

et Design

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MURDER MOST FOWL

PROLOGUEIN FRONT OF CURTAIN (or on EMPTY STAGE): RICH ENTERS nervously, carrying a clipboard.RICH: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are just about ready

to present our play entitled “Murder Most Fowl” for you, but we’ve run into a bit of a problem. You see, two of our performers have called in sick, and we can’t do the play without them since they have the most important parts in the whole play! Our director is beside herself (or himself) about this, but I thought if maybe a couple of you from the audience could fi ll in for them, the show can go on. There are only several hundred lines to learn, and I can see you’re all quick studies, so do I have any volunteers? Please? Please? Please? If you’re all too chicken, our goose is cooked! (Selects two people from the AUDIENCE and brings them ONSTAGE.) Fantastic! Let’s give these two a big hand. I know they’ll do a great job winging it, so I say on with the show!

ACT ONEAT RISE: The cafeteria of Pickachick High School. The STUDIO AUDIENCE ENTERS RIGHT as if just allowed in and gets settled in their seats. On the way to their seats, they get the two AUDIENCE MEMBERS to join them. These AUDIENCE MEMBERS will be part of the STUDIO AUDIENCE for the entire show but should have upstage seats or sit slightly behind the other STUDIO AUDIENCE MEMBERS. RICH is behind the long chef’s table holding a clipboard, checking off ingredients from each chef and pulling out items from the paper bags. He gives each of them a form from the clipboard to fi ll out. The CHEFS—PLACIDO, SOPHIA, CLAUDINE and PHILLIP—hold their recipe cards like card players so no one else can see them.WANDA: Oh, Dr. Feathers, isn’t this exciting?DR. FEATHERS: Almost as exciting as appendicitis.CHESTER: (To MYRNA.) Have you ever been to a taping of a TV show

before?MYRNA: (Proudly.) I was once a contestant on “The Price is Right!”ELOISE: Did you win anything, Myrna?MYRNA: A lovely hot tub, but we couldn’t get it through the bathroom

door.BONNIE: (ENTERS RIGHT. To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Oh, dear! You’re here

already! I didn’t think they were going to open the doors for the studio audience for another 20 minutes. It’s so exciting that our

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very own Pickachick High School has been selected by Cap’n Curry, founder of the entire Chicken Hut chain of restaurants, as the site for her international chicken cooking contest. And it’s being televised on Let’s Eat Network! I’m so lucky to be the principal here! I just love Chicken Hut! (Calls OFF LEFT and RIGHT.) Oh, Cap’n! Cap’n Curry!

CAP’N: (ENTERS LEFT, her countenance disgruntled.) That’s me name! Don’t go wearin’ it out!

BONNIE: I’m just checking to make sure everything’s set up just the way you want it.

CAP’N: Dunno. (Indicates RICH.) Ask him. He’s the head cheese here. I got bigger fi sh to fry!

BONNIE: Oh, I’m getting hungry already! (CAP’N EXITS LEFT.) Oh, you there, Mr. Graivee?

RICH: Call me Rich. Rich Graivee, Ms… Ms… ?BONNIE: Bird! I’m Bonnie Bird, principal of Pickachick High. I just want

to know if everything’s set up to your specifi cations.RICH: Ms. Bird, you’re a peach to ask, and I think this cafeteria suits

Let’s Eat Network to a T… a T-bone, that is!BONNIE: (Giggles.) Oh, you! Aren’t you just a honey?RICH: Well, we do have a pretty big “stake” in this show.BONNIE: (Laughs at his pun.) And what an honor for Pickachick High!

Imagine, one of our students winning the essay contest! Of course, Quincy Quail is one of our most outstanding students, and if I had picked anyone to win, it would have been him. Nobody can get in there and gut a subject like Quincy!

BURGUNDY: (ENTERS RIGHT with CARLA, who carries a laptop. Bored already.) Oh, Ms. Bird? Ms. Bird?

RICH: Someone’s squawking at you.BONNIE: The press! Oh, my… how exciting this all is! (Fixes her hair

and moves to BURGUNDY.) Why, Ms. Divan! How nice of you to stop by.

BURGUNDY: Our editor told us we had to.CARLA: (Unenthused.) It was either this or the school board meeting…

again.BONNIE: You girls don’t sound too enthusiastic.BURGUNDY: What’s interesting about a chicken cooking competition?

And they’re calling it a Chicken Feed Contest. That’s just weird.BONNIE: Ladies, this is being televised on Let’s Eat Network! This is

national news with two capital Ns! We’re so proud of our school! And you can quote me on that.

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CARLA: Our editor put together a few questions here that we’re supposed to ask you. (Unrolls a long paper that reaches to the fl oor.)

BONNIE: Oh, my! This is going to be a big story, huh? (Leads BURGUNDY and CARLA to the table DOWN LEFT. CARLA sets up her laptop.)

RICH: So, Placido, do you have what you need for your recipe, which is…?

PLACIDO: Oh, no! No! I do not tell what I am cooking, even if you try to trick me.

CLAUDINE: But what do zee Spanish know about cooking zee chicken?

PLACIDO: Claudine, mi amiga, we invented paella!CLAUDINE: We invented coq au vin!PLACIDO: A poor imitation.SOPHIA: You two! The Spanish. The French. Everybody knows we

Italians took-a the chicken and made it what it is-a today!PHILLIP: I say, darling, what is a chicken today?SOPHIA: The king of fowl.PHILLIP: You do mean the queen of fowl, don’t you?SOPHIA: Bah! We Italians gave the world chicken cacciatore, chicken

parmesan and… (Indicates her recipe card.) …this!CLAUDINE: Your recipe for zee contest?SOPHIA: Wouldn’t you like to see it? (Holds the recipe card over her

shoulder. PHILLIP snatches it.) Give that back!PLACIDO: Phillip! Here! Here!CLAUDINE: Let me ’ave it!SOPHIA: (Picks up a large plastic cleaver from the table.) Give that

back or I turn you into chicken pâté!PHILLIP: (Hands SOPHIA the recipe card.) You don’t have to get all hot

and buttered. I was just having a spot of fun!CLAUDINE: I did not know you English like zee spot of fun.PLACIDO: Well, his wife isn’t anywhere around, eh, Phillip?SOPHIA: The cat is away, so the rat will play.RICH: Say! Cap’n Curry’s chef isn’t here. Hmmm…CAP’N: (ENTERS LEFT, nervous.) Graivee! Get over here! (RICH moves

to CAP’N, who pulls him DOWN LEFT.) Got a problem, we do. Me boy Frank Fricassee be missin’!

RICH: Maybe he just went to the store.CAP’N: Tried his cell phone. Nothin’! Ain’t in the restroom either.

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RICH: Well, why don’t you check over his supply list and make sure everything’s here. And then if he doesn’t show up, you can cook… whatever it is he’s making.

CAP’N: Me? Cook?RICH: Cap’n, you’re the chicken queen! There are more Chicken Huts

than any other chicken franchise in the world.CAP’N: That don’t mean I can cook!RICH: Your advertising says “Cap’n Curry’s Own Special Recipe.”CAP’N: You believe what an ad says? C’mon, Graivee, this be the

twenty-fi rst century. Nobody tells the truth… exceptin’ me when I tell you Frank Fricassee is gone and so’s his new recipe.

RICH: He didn’t just have one copy, did he?CAP’N: Oh, didn’t he? He guarded that recipe like it be the Hope

Diamond.RICH: Everybody! Listen up a minute. Has anybody seen Frank

Fricassee, Cap’n Curry’s chef?PLACIDO: A while ago.CLAUDINE: He was here.SOPHIA: Sì! He made a pass at me!PHILLIP: I thought he looked a bit hard up. (SOPHIA swats PHILLIP with

a towel or rag.)BURGUNDY: (She and CARLA move to RICH.) Somebody’s missing?RICH: Cap’n Curry’s chef. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere… (To

CAP’N.) Have you looked in the parking lot?CAP’N: What would he be doin’ out there? (EXITS RIGHT.)BONNIE: I’ll go with you. (EXITS RIGHT.)RICH: I’m sure he’s out there… changing his oil or something. All

right, chefs! If you’ll follow me, we’ve got a couple of dos and don’ts to go over in the kitchen. (He and CHEFS EXIT LEFT.)

BURGUNDY: A missing chef!CARLA: You’ve got a strange gleam in your eye, Burgundy.BURGUNDY: This could be THE story, Carla!CARLA: We’d better do what Harry wants.BURGUNDY: Did we go to four years of college to do what Harry

wants?CARLA: Didn’t we?BURGUNDY: I don’t know about you, but I went because of Woodward

and Bernstein!CARLA: Woodward and Bernstein… what did they sing, again?

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BURGUNDY: Their reporting exploded the Watergate scandal! They saved democracy from crooked politicians.

CARLA: Wow!BURGUNDY: And I’ll bet their editor had assigned them some chicken

feed contest to cover. But did they follow orders? Absolutely not! They followed their heads and their hearts and they entered the journalism hall of fame.

CARLA: Wow!BURGUNDY: This could be our big break. And spell that with two

capital Bs! (PLACIDO ENTERS LEFT and moves to the chef’s table. BURGUNDY and CARLA cross to him.) Hi. I’m Burgundy Divan from the “Pickachick Post.”

PLACIDO: What is that, a restaurant?CARLA: A newspaper.PLACIDO: Oh? What you want?BURGUNDY: Let’s start with your name.PLACIDO: Placido Paella… from Salamanca.CARLA: Is that in Florida somewhere?PLACIDO: España!BURGUNDY: Did you know the missing chef, Frank Fricassee?PLACIDO: Un poco.CARLA: When did you see him last?PLACIDO: Earlier.BURGUNDY: Where was he?PLACIDO: I forget.CARLA: Who was he with?PLACIDO: Nobody. Now, excúseme. I have work to do! (Takes a last

glace at his ingredients, then EXITS LEFT as CLAUDINE ENTERS LEFT.)

BURGUNDY: (Moves to CLAUDINE with CARLA. [NOTE: Throughout play, wherever BURGUNDY goes, CARLA follows.]) Hi, I’m Burgundy and this is Carla, and we’re the press. Mind if we ask you some questions?

CLAUDINE: Depends on zee questions.BURGUNDY: What’s your name?CLAUDINE: Zat is easy. Claudine Cassoulet.CARLA: Are you from Sweden or something?CLAUDINE: I am from France! Vive la France!BURGUNDY: What do you think happened to Frank Fricassee?

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CLAUDINE: I ’ave no idea.CARLA: Do you think he’s coming back?CLAUDINE: You must ask ’im zat, no?BURGUNDY: Where can we fi nd him?CLAUDINE: I must fi nish zis paperwork. Au revoir. (EXITS LEFT as

SOPHIA and PHILLIP ENTER LEFT chatting.)BURGUNDY: Hi, I’m Burgundy and this is Carla. We’re from the local

paper, and I was wondering—SOPHIA: Be sure to take a picture of my good side!CARLA: Which side is that?SOPHIA: Can’t you tell? What’s wrong with you? What kind of paparazzi

are you?BURGUNDY: We’re trying to fi nd out what happened to Frank

Fricassee.SOPHIA: That imbecile? Why does everybody care about him? He was

a big-a, fat-a nothing.CARLA: I guess you didn’t like him.SOPHIA: Fried chicken! Bah! Anybody can toss a chicken into oil! Now,

scusami, but I must get this fi nished! (Turns back to her fi ll out her form.)

PHILLIP: Sophia’s right, you know. Frank Fricassee’s a hack. He doesn’t understand the chicken at all.

BURGUNDY: What’s to understand?PHILLIP: A plump, juicy bird roasting on an open spit, the fragrance of

parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme—CARLA: Hey! Simon and Garfunkel, right?BURGUNDY: Which came fi rst? The chicken or Simon and Garfunkel?

(She and CARLA laugh heartily.)PHILLIP: You colonists never did have a good sense of humor.BURGUNDY: So you are…?PHILLIP: I take it you’re from the press?CARLA: “Pickachick Post,” the local paper.PHILLIP: My name is Phillip Partridge, and I own London’s top eatery,

Gruel Britannia.BURGUNDY: So when did you see Frank Fricassee last?PHILLIP: This morning. I saw him standing in the hallway right next to

this cafeteria.CARLA: When was that?PHILLIP: Just shy of 10:15.

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BURGUNDY: You sound awfully sure of the time, Mr. Partridge.PHILLIP: I should be. He was standing right beneath the clock.CARLA: What was he doing?PHILLIP: Talking on his cell phone.BURGUNDY: Did you happen to catch what he was saying?PHILLIP: I did hear him saying he didn’t need any more muscles. I

thought that was a bit strange for a gent to say.CARLA: I’ll say! What guy wouldn’t want more muscles?BURGUNDY: And why was he talking about it on the phone? I wonder.

Where did he go after the phone call?PHILLIP: I couldn’t tell you. I had to get in here to keep Sophia from

taking my ingredients.SOPHIA: Whaddayou talking about? I wouldn’t stoop so low as to take

ingredients from someone who considers kidney pies a delicacy!BURGUNDY: (Pulls CARLA DOWN LEFT as PHILLIP and SOPHIA EXIT

LEFT, continuing to snipe at one another.) Something’s fi shy, Carla. They’re all hiding something!

CARLA: Yeah… and they have real shifty eyes!BURGUNDY: That English guy, Partridge, is the only one who gave us

anything specifi c.CARLA: Yeah, the phone call. Almost too specifi c with the time. I

wonder what he was really doing in the hall.BURGUNDY: Maybe you’d better start getting some info on these

chefs.CARLA: I’ll start doing research right away. (Sits at table DOWN LEFT,

facing the stage, and opens her laptop. She will work continuously through next dialogue.)

CAP’N: (ENTERS RIGHT with BONNIE.) Graivee! Rich Graivee, get out here!

RICH: (ENTERS LEFT and crosses to CAP’N and BONNIE.) Any luck?CAP’N: Nothing.BURGUNDY: Maybe we’d better call the police.RICH/CAP’N/BONNIE: Police?!CAP’N: No way!BONNIE: That’s ridiculous!RICH: We’ve got no reason!BURGUNDY: A chef is missing!BONNIE: Think of the “fowl” press Pickachick High will get if police

zoom in like a fl ock of buzzards. (Laughs at her own pun.)

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RICH: (Ignores BONNIE.) Let’s Eat Network and Chicken Hut have invested a million dollars in this contest. We’re not letting one little missing chef mess that up!

CAP’N: And if this chicken feed contest don’t fl y, I’ll be ruined! I’ve got me stockholders convinced this’ll open up international markets, and we need those markets to keep afl oat. (STUDENTS—QUINCY, LORI, MARCY, ALLEN and STACIE—ENTER RIGHT.)

BONNIE: (Eager to change the subject.) Oh, well, look at this. Our contest winner! Mr. Graivee, Cap’n Curry, may I introduce you to Quincy Quail, the bard of Pickachick High.

RICH: How do you do, young man?QUINCY: (Shy.) Hi.LORI: Oh, don’t mind Quince. He’s the shy one. But I’m not. I’m Lori,

and this is Marcy. We’re his friends.MARCY: Hello! Are you the producer?RICH: Among other things today. Most of my crew’s out with food

poisoning.MARCY: I’ve got head shots in my car! I can sing, dance—STACIE: And Marcy makes a mean Frito pie!RICH: Frito pie, huh?ALLEN: Marcie, today’s about Quincy. Remember?MARCY: I guess.RICH: And you are?ALLEN: Allen. And that’s Stacie.RICH: Well, I‘m glad you all could come.LORI: We wouldn’t miss Quincy’s speech for anything!QUINCY: Oh, geez!BONNIE: Kids, this is the famous Cap’n Curry.STACIE: The pirate?CAP’N: Those were the days. The only thing I pirate now be recipes.BURGUNDY: Is that why Frank Fricassee is missing? You pirated his

recipe and somebody—RICH: Ms. Whateveryournameis?BURGUNDY: Burgundy Divan.RICH: Why don’t you sit down and allow us to begin this illustrious

event without the benefi t of your queries?BURGUNDY: Just remember, you can’t stifl e the press! (Huffs over to

sit by CARLA DOWN LEFT.)BONNIE: I’m afraid we’ve ruffl ed her feathers.

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QUINCY: Who’d she say was missing?CAP’N: Me chef! Frank Fricassee. You seen him?ALLEN: Wouldn’t know him if I did.RICH: Not to worry, Cap’n. I’ll call Bob.CAP’N: Who’s Bob?RICH: I’ll let you in on a trade secret. Bob’s our substitute chef. He

comes in whenever one of our regulars at Let’s Eat Network can’t make it.

LORI: I’ve never seen Bob on TV.RICH: Bob’s also an impersonator. We dress him up like any one of

our chefs, and he could fool their own mothers.MARCY: That’s, like, really creepy.RICH: It’s that or lose thousands.CAP’N: Call Bob. Get him here pronto!RICH: Kids, why don’t you all sit down, and we’ll go ahead and get

this show on the road! (Punches in numbers on his cell phone and pantomimes a quick conversation.)

STACIE: This is so exciting!MARCY: I never knew food could be so… so…ALLEN: Nourishing? (STUDENTS sit at the table DOWN RIGHT. BONNIE

and CAP’N move to the PLATFORM. RICH snaps his phone shut angrily.)

CAP’N: What’s the matter, Graivee?RICH: Bob’s got a cold, but he said he’d try to get here as soon as his

sinuses clear up a bit. (Smiles broadly to change subject.) So, are you ready, Ms. Bird?

BONNIE: (Smoothes her hair.) Oh, I think so!RICH: Just look out there into the camera at the back of the room.BONNIE: (Peers OUT.) It’s so far away!RICH: It’s okay… they can do close-ups. Cap’n? (Hands her a cordless

microphone.) All right, everyone! We’re ready to tape the opening, so let’s get going. (Shouts OFF LEFT.) Chefs, we’re ready for you out here. (CHEFS ENTER and stand behind the long table, adjusting their hats, smoothing their aprons, etc. To STUDIO AUDIENCE and STUDENTS.) Studio audience, when I hold the applause sign up, I want you to give it all you’ve got, right? Let’s try that. (Holds up the applause sign. Regardless of how loud the STUDIO AUDIENCE and STUDENTS cheer, he shakes his head.) C’mon, folks! You sound like you’re sick with chicken pox. Let’s give it a hundred ten percent! (Again he holds up sign. STUDIO AUDIENCE cheers for a few seconds, as they will every time RICH holds up the applause

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sign throughout the play.) Great! All right, everybody, we’ll be taping in fi ve, four, three, two… (Silently points to CAP’N.)

CAP’N: Ahoy! Cap’n Curry here. (RICH holds up applause sign.) Ye lubbers be ready for this chicken feed contest? (RICH holds up applause sign.) Chicken Hut’s always on the lookout for new chicken recipes, so we’ve sponsored this contest. For those of you who don’t know, I held an essay contest for high school students—they’re my prime demographic, ye know. Since the winner’s from Pickachick High School, that’s where we be. After all, if the winning recipe can’t be created in a regular school kitchen, what kind of down home recipe is that?! Put yer palms together for the principal of the school, Bonnie Bird. (RICH holds up applause sign. BONNIE steps to the center of the platform and takes the mike as CAP’N steps aside.)

BONNIE: Welcome, one and all, to Pickachick High School— (RICH holds up applause sign.) Home of the Roosters! (RICH quickly holds up sign again.) I’m Bonnie Bird, principal of Pickachick High. (RICH doesn’t hold up the sign. BONNIE prompts him to, which he does.) Thank you. Thank you! It’s my privilege to introduce one of the top bananas at Let’s Eat Television Network, Rich Graivee, your host for today’s contest. (RICH holds up sign, then tosses it aside as he steps up on the PLATFORM. BONNIE doesn’t budge from the center of the PLATFORM until RICH gently pushes her with his hip.) Oh, my! (Hands RICH the mike, then steps OFF the PLATFORM, moving to the RIGHT.)

RICH: Thank you, all you viewers, for loving to eat. And eat. And eat! That’s just what we here at the Let’s Eat Network love to see. And thank you for making chicken fl y head and shoulders above every other kind of meat we carnivores love to devour. Whoever said chickens can’t fl y? Today’s International Chicken Feed Contest—sponsored by Cap’n Curry’s Chicken Hut—features fi ve of the world’s top chefs competing for a job as the host of Let’s Eat Network’s new summer show, “Chillin’ with Chicken.” Let’s meet our celebrity chefs right now. (CHEFS step forward.) First, from Italy, we’ve got the beautiful Sophia Cacciatori. Buon giorno!

SOPHIA: It’s-a so nice to be here in Chickypick contest where I’m a-gonna win the prize with my secret recipe.

RICH: Good luck to you, Sophia.SOPHIA: When you look-a like this, who needs-a luck?RICH: Let’s now meet Claudine Cassoulet, hailing from Rouen

(Pronounces it “Roo-AHN.”), France.PLACIDO: And ruin is just what’s she’s going to do to her chicken.CLAUDINE: You take zat back!

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RICH: Don’t get your feathers ruffl ed, Claudine. This is all in the spirit of good, clean fun.

CLAUDINE: You want good, clean fun, take zee shower!RICH: And here’s Placido Paella from Spain. Buenos días, Placido!PLACIDO: Gracias! I will tell one and all that we Spaniards know our

chickens. We love them roasted, fried, sautéed, grilled, stuffed, ground, chopped and skewered… and I’m going to win this contest!

RICH: We’re seeing a lot of confi dence here today, folks. And now, let’s meet Phillip Partridge, celebrity chef from jolly old England.

PHILLIP: Cheers, Rich!RICH: Have you got something special up your sleeve?PHILLIP: A radical departure from the traditional English chicken.RICH: It takes guts to break with the past.PHILLIP: I can safely say that I’m no chicken, Rich.RICH: How about a big hand for our celebrity chefs? (BONNIE holds up

applause sign upside down.) And now, before we move on, let’s have a word from Cap’n Curry, founder and CEO of Cap’n Curry’s Chicken Hut. (BONNIE waves sign again as CAP’N mounts PLATFORM.) Here she is, folks. The number one chick in the world!

CAP’N: That’s a “fowl” thing to say, Graivee. I’m no chick! I be captain of the fi shin’ trawler “Sweetie Pie”, and I be tougher ’n nails. But I’ve got a real soft spot in me heart for a great big piece of crunchy, golden brown chicken! And that’s why I started Cap’n Curry’s Chicken Huts. I wanted to give people a place where they could get a big old-fashioned bucket o’ the greasiest, crunchiest chicken on earth.

RICH: Considering your vast empire, you have succeeded.CAP’N: (With disdain.) Yes, but now me board of directors tells me

I have to expand the line. Cater to the more health conscious consumers. That’s why I be sponsorin’ this here chicken feed contest—so we can fi gure out what kind of chicken to feed the picky eaters. Now, has anybody seen Frank Fricassee?

RICH: I’m sure he’ll turn up, Cap’n Curry. That’s right, folks, one of our chefs fl ew the coop, but I’m sure he’ll make his way back like the homing pigeon he is! (CHEFS and CAP’N EXIT LEFT.) Now you might be wondering why we’re fi lming our contest here at Pickachick High School. It’s simple. Several months ago the Cap’n and Let’s Eat Network held an essay contest for high school students asking them to write on the subject “Great Moments in the History of Chicken.” From the gaggle of entries we received, it wasn’t hard to pick our winner from right here at Pickachick High—Quincy Quail!

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Come on up here, Quincy. (QUINCY nervously mounts PLATFORM as BONNIE enthusiastically waves the applause sign.) Right over here, Quincy. That’s it. Why don’t you tell our viewers something about yourself?

QUINCY: My name is Quincy.RICH: We… know that, Quincy.QUINCY: My last name’s Quail.RICH: We got that, too. And you’re a junior?QUINCY: Senior.RICH: So you’ll be graduating this year?QUINCY: Yes.RICH: Big plans for the future?QUINCY: Yes.RICH: How about fi lling us in on your plans?QUINCY: I can’t. I haven’t even told my parents yet.RICH: Sounds like you’re a little chicken, Quincy. (Laughs at his own

joke.) Well, why don’t you go ahead and read part of your winning essay. And folks, it won’t be hard for you to understand how Quincy ended up with the $500 prize and this appearance on Cap’n Curry’s International Chicken Feed contest.

QUINCY: Should I read now?RICH: Go right ahead.QUINCY: (Reads from paper he pulls from his pocket.) “The lowly

chicken, inhabiting cages and coops, pecking for grain 24/7, could have been relegated to the ornithological netherworld inhabited by crows and vultures. But, as fate would have it, King Henry VIII had a voracious appetite. It was he who, storming through Hampton Court, demanded something new and different to please his palate. A cook whose name is lost to history cast her eye about for something the king hadn’t already eaten in some form or another. As luck would have it, a chicken named Thelma pecked her way into the kitchen. One look at the plump bird and the cook was sold. She lobbed off Thelma’s head, plucked her clean and cut her into chunks. Just as the cook reached over a vat of boiling oil to set the chicken into a bit of milk to poach, Henry VIII screamed out for his supper. The poor cook dropped the chicken pieces into the oil. When they browned up, she nervously served them to the gargantuan monarch, who took one bite and proclaimed, ‘Jiminy Christmas, ’tis fi t for a king!’”

RICH: Thank you, Quincy! And I understand all that is true.QUINCY: Every last word, sir. Can I sit down now?

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RICH: Yes. Enjoy the contest! And… cut! (Draws his fi nger across his throat as QUINCY returns to table DOWN RIGHT but does not sit down. Throughout the ensuing dialog RICH busies himself with examining his clipboard.)

LORI: Oh, Quincy! That was… that was…ALLEN: (Laughs.) The biggest bunch of chicken scat I’ve ever heard.LORI: No! It was inventive, imaginative.MARCY: And profi table.STACIE: I can help you spend the 500 smackers, Quincy.QUINCY: They didn’t give me anything yet.RICH: (Looks up briefl y.) Check’s in the mail, kid!LORI: I still think it was stupendous, and I can’t wait to see you on TV.

(MARCIE and STACIE giggle to themselves as QUINCY backs away nervously from LORI.)

ALLEN: (Gets up, puts his arm around QUINCY and pulls him DOWN CENTER.) Quince, buddy! Are you clueless or what?

QUINCY: What are you talking about?ALLEN: You like Lori, don’t you?QUINCY: Yeah, sure. But she can have any guy she wants.ALLEN: The old master here says that you’re the guy she wants.QUINCY: That’s crazy!ALLEN: I think you need to learn a little something about girls, Quincy.

(Moves QUINCY FAR RIGHT and mimes giving him advice. CHEFS and CAP’N ENTER LEFT and stand behind platform.)

RICH: (Calls out to his unseen “cameraman.”) Okay, let’s continue with the next segment now. Be sure to get a shot of the chefs heading into the kitchen. In fi ve, four, three, two… (Pauses. Into microphone.) And now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to the contest itself. Our world-famous chefs have all created a new, special chicken recipe that they will make here in the Pickachick High cafeteria kitchen using ingredients that have already been approved. They must use a whole chicken, and none of their ingredients can be prepackaged, so Chicken Helper is a no-no! Our chefs will have just one hour to prepare their dishes. Are you ready, celebrity chefs?

PLACIDO: Sí, Señor Graivee!CLAUDINE: Oui! Zee French are always ready in zee kitchen.SOPHIA: Mama mia. Viva Italia!PHILLIP: (Nervous, checks watch and looks toward EXIT RIGHT.) I say,

you haven’t seen my wife Prunella, have you?RICH: To the kitchens, then. And may the best chicken win!

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BEULAH: (ENTERS LEFT holding a rolling pin.) Hold it right there!BONNIE: (Steps forward.) Why, if it isn’t Beulah Brooder, head cook

here at Pickachick High.BEULAH: You got that right! And that’s my kitchen. So you know what

that means?RICH: I’ll bet you’re going to tell us.BEULAH: Don’t get smart, little man! When you walk in there it’s

spotless. Every fork, knife and spoon is exactly where it should be. Every pot, every pan is spotless. Every counter shines like it’s a princess-cut diamond. You can eat off the fl oor! And that’s exactly how I want to fi nd it when you’re fi nished. No goin’ and stuffi n’ things in closets to clean up. Understand?

PLACIDO: Sí!CLAUDINE: Mais oui!SOPHIA: Va bene!PHILLIP: Crikey!BEULAH: Oh, great. None of ’em speaks English! Well, get this—

Beulah Brooder will be watching you like a vulture, and I’ve got eyes in the back of my head!

RICH: I’ll bet you do.BONNIE: (Moves to BEULAH.) Let’s try to put a big smile on our face,

Ms. Brooder. Just for today! The cameras are rolling. (BEULAH grimaces, then EXITS LEFT.)

PRUNELLA: (ENTERS RIGHT carrying two paper bags stuffed with groceries. She struggles.) Oh, dear. I say, Phillip, love! Give me a hand, won’t you?

RICH: Why, Mrs. Partridge! What have we got here? (PHILLIP nervously stands back.)

CAP’N: A wee bit past the deadline for grocery shoppin’, lady.PRUNELLA: Oh, well, Phillip, why he’s… he’s such a scatterbrain, he

just plum forgot a few things.PHILLIP: Right! Plum forgot the plums.RICH: Well, this is the pits, because you know the rules.PRUNELLA: Oh, but there’s nothing here but what can be bought at

the Piggly Wiggly.PHILLIP: Such quaint names you’ve got in the colonies.CAP’N: I don’t like it, Graivee. I don’t like it one bit!PLACIDO: Maybe I run out and get more cheese.SOPHIA: Or more pasta.CLAUDINE: I could use a few more truffl es.

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BONNIE: Mr. Graivee, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to settle little squabbles like this. I mean, you can’t imagine how often kids come in late with their homework. It’s like nobody in this world understands the meaning of a deadline!

CAP’N: Can’t make the line on time, ye be dead!BONNIE: Yes, but then you would have one less fi ne chef in your

competition.CAP’N: Phillip ain’t fi ne! Have you ever ate in England? They don’t

know a chicken from a ham.PRUNELLA: (Still holding the bags.) Why, you old sea dog! Who are you

to criticize anybody’s cuisine?CAP’N: You call it cuisine? I call it—RICH: Ladies! Ladies!PRUNELLA: I only see one lady here.CAP’N: And one old sea dog.BONNIE: Now, name calling won’t get us anywhere. I say

compromise.RICH: That’s right, and since Let’s Eat Network is in charge here, we’ll

just make a slight rule change. As long as we check through these items, they’ll be permitted.

CAP’N: Don’t be soundin’ much like a compromise to me!RICH: And if any other chef needs anything additional, we’ll get

Principal Bird to run to the Piggly Wiggly for you.BONNIE: Fair enough?CAP’N: I still say somethin’s fi shy here.BONNIE: Now, now, everybody, let’s not let this small incident spoil our

fun. Come, everyone to the kitchen. Rich here will supervise Chef Phillip’s bags. Right, Rich?

RICH: Under control! (Approaches chef’s table to supervise.)BONNIE: Good then. Come, everyone. Let the cooking begin! (Leads

CAP’N, PLACIDO, CLAUDINE and SOPHIA OFF LEFT.)RICH: (To unseen “cameraman.”) And cut!PRUNELLA: Now here, Phillip, give me a hand.PHILLIP: Yes, love! (Takes one of the bags. The other drops, and

croutons or some other small boxed item spill out onto the fl oor.)PRUNELLA: Oh, dear! I hope those weren’t essential, love.PHILLIP: Oh well, we’ll just make do. (Sets his bag on the table. The

dropped bag remains on the ground while PHILLIP starts going the through the bag on the table with RICH. PRUNELLA kneels down and begins to pick up the croutons. Scene shifts back to QUINCY and ALLEN.)

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QUINCY: So I can ask a girl out without her father’s permission?ALLEN: Around women, a man must be brave and courageous. He

can’t exhibit any fear, especially where an old man is concerned. And, buddy boy, if you see a lady in distress, this is how you handle the situation. (Moves to PRUNELLA. QUINCY follows. ALLEN takes PRUNELLA’S hand.) Ma’am, there’s no need for you to be on your hands and knees cleaning up.

PRUNELLA: (Rises, embarrassed and pleased.) Oh, why, young man, how kind of you.

ALLEN: My good friend Quincy and I will clean this up before you can say “Good day!”

PRUNELLA: Aren’t you a dear!ALLEN: Quincy, why don’t you take that bag for the lady and set it on

the table, and I’ll go get a broom from the janitor’s closet.QUINCY: Oh yeah, sure! (ALLEN EXITS LEFT. QUINCY picks up the

bag.)PRUNELLA: Well, your friend certainly is quite a gentleman.QUINCY: Oh, he’s not usually like that. I mean, he’s like that around

old ladies—PRUNELLA: (Insulted.) Well!QUINCY: I mean, not like you’re old or anything! (PRUNELLA moves

huffi ly to PHILLIP. QUINCY sheepishly sets his bag on the chef’s table and slinks back to the table DOWN RIGHT. RICH leads PHILLIP and PRUNELLA OFF LEFT with the groceries.)

LORI: Oh, Quincy! That was so noble of you.MARCY: Nobody ever picked up my stuff!STACIE: I know.LORI: Quincy knows how to be a gentleman. (ALLEN backs ON LEFT,

horrifi ed, unnoticed by the other STUDENTS.)STACIE: I think we need to try an experiment. (Tosses her purse on

the fl oor. ALLEN backs RIGHT until he’s near the purse, and STACIE notices him.) Oh, Allen! Marcy dropped something! (ALLEN doesn’t respond.)

MARCY: Allen? Allen! What’s the matter with you? (ALLEN turns around, his face frozen in shock and fear.)

LORI: Gosh! You look like you’ve seen a ghost! (ALLEN screams loudly and runs OFF RIGHT.)

MARCY: Allen!STACIE: What’s wrong?! (Runs OFF RIGHT, followed by MARCY.

BURGUNDY and CARLA move to QUINCY and LORI.)

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BONNIE: (Runs IN LEFT.) Students! We’ll have no screaming in here. We have a studio audience present!

BURGUNDY: So what was that about?QUINCY: Allen said he was going to get a broom.CARLA: Maybe there’s a witch in the janitor’s closet trying to fi nd

something to ride home on.BURGUNDY: Maybe there’s something else! (Runs OFF LEFT.)CARLA: Burgundy! Wait for me! (EXITS LEFT followed by QUINCY and

LORI.)BONNIE: (Now alone ONSTAGE. To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Oh, dear! I

can’t imagine what all the fuss is about. And here we are! Why don’t I just tell a joke or two… (Looks LEFT, then back to STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Tell me… what does a clock do when it gets hungry? It goes back four seconds! (Laughs nervously.) Get it? One, two, three, four seconds? Well, how about this one… a boiled egg is hard to beat. (Again laughs nervously.) Does the name Pavlov ring a bell? (LORI, QUINCY, RICH, PRUNELLA, CHEFS, CAP’N, BURGUNDY, CARLA and BEULAH run ON LEFT, screaming.) At least that one got a response! What’s wrong? What’s happened?

CAP’N: We found Frank!RICH: In the janitor’s closet!PRUNELLA: Oh, and he doesn’t look very good at all!PLACIDO: He looks dead!CLAUDINE: Wait! ’Old zee ’orses! Fricassee might just be sleeping or

somefi ng.SOPHIA: Sì! We call ambulance, no?BURGUNDY: We need a doctor!BEULAH: Oh, Dr. Feathers is sitting right here!CARLA: You’ve got to help him, Doctor!DR. FEATHERS: (EXITING LEFT with CARLA.) Let’s go have a look.

Probably nothing but a little fainting spell.BONNIE: Oh, dear! Was he sick when he arrived this morning?CAP’N: Frank was healthier ’n an ox.RICH: Well, healthy oxen don’t end up looking like that!PHILLIP: Especially in a janitor’s closet.BURGUNDY: (Nervous.) I… I don’t think Mr. Fricassee was sick.PRUNELLA: Well, goodness! What else could it have been?RICH: We just saw Frank this morning!SOPHIA: So alive!CLAUDINE: So ’andsome!

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PHILLIP: (Shakes his head.) One never knows.CLAUDINE: C’est la vie!BONNIE: I hope whatever he has isn’t… catching…BURGUNDY: (Pointedly.) I don’t think so.CAP’N: What’re you sayin’?PRUNELLA: He must just be very sick. That’s all, right?BURGUNDY: I don’t think he’s sick at all.RICH: Surely, you don’t mean…BURGUNDY: My name’s not Shirley! And that’s exactly what I mean.SOPHIA: What does she mean?PHILLIP: Murder! (DR. FEATHERS and CARLA ENTER LEFT.)BONNIE: Oh, Doctor, Mr. Fricassee just fainted, didn’t he?DR. FEATHERS: I’m afraid not. He was hit on the back of the head

with a blunt object.BONNIE: Can we get him a Band-aid or something?DR. FEATHERS: It wouldn’t do a bit of good. He’s dead. Been so for

about a half-hour, I’d say.PRUNELLA: Oh, dear! I’m getting out of here!DR. FEATHERS: I’m afraid we can’t allow that, ma’am.PRUNELLA: Why not?BURGUNDY: (Moves RIGHT, as if to block the exit.) This is a crime

scene now, right? Everybody’s got to stay here until the police arrive. (DR. FEATHERS nods and returns to his seat.)

PHILLIP: That’s ridiculous! (Moves RIGHT.)BEULAH: (Stops PHILLIP, brandishing her rolling pin.) You ain’t leavin’ ’til

my kitchen’s clean as an operating room… including the janitor’s closet. Got it?

PHILLIP: You colonists are certainly getting mighty heady!BONNIE: (On her cell phone.) Hello, police department? This is Bonnie

Bird, principal of Pickachick High. (Pause.) Oh, and how are you, Brandon? Susie and the kids fi ne? (Pause.) Oh, good! Well, listen, Brandon, we’ve got a teensy weensy problem here at the high school. (Pause.) No, we’re not out of toilet paper again. It seems we’ve got a body in the janitor’s closet. (Pause.) Yes, he’s quite… dead, it’s quite apparent. (Pause.) Okay, we won’t touch anything… and yes, I won’t let anyone leave. All right. Thank you, Brandon. (Hangs up. To ALL.) The police are on their way. We aren’t to touch anything, and no one is to leave. (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Sorry!

CAP’N: Who would want to kill Frank? This is gonna ruin me!

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RICH: It won’t help Let’s Eat Network, either.BONNIE: And think of Pickachick High!LORI: Well, don’t worry… the police will be here real soon.BONNIE: They’ll fi gure it out. They solved the last murder in town just

like that. (Snaps.)BURGUNDY: Only because the killer turned up at the police station with

the smoking gun. (SOUND EFFECT: BONNIE’S PHONE RINGS.)BONNIE: Bonnie Bird here. (Pause.) Oh, yes, Brandon. (Pause.) What?

Oh, no! (Pause.) Oh dear, you can’t? (Pause.) Well… all right… I’ll see what I can do, but… (Pause.) I know, Brandon. (Pause.) No… I don’t think I’d like one. Good-bye.

BURGUNDY: What’s wrong?BONNIE: (Laughs nervously.) Well, this is certainly ironic. A truck

carrying frozen chickens overturned on the highway, and it’s blocking traffi c in both directions. The police can’t get here until the truck is out of the way and the chickens are all picked up.

SOPHIA: How many chickens we talkin’ about?BONNIE: Fifteen thousand.SOPHIA: Mama mia!PLACIDO: Fifteen thousand frozen chickens?!BONNIE: It looks like we’re going to have to make the best of this on

our own for a few hours. What a “fowl” situation!PRUNELLA: But what if… what if…BURGUNDY: What if what?PRUNELLA: What if the killer is still here?BONNIE: Oh, that’s silly!RICH: Sure. Whoever it was came and left already. Let’s not get too

excited about all this.CLAUDINE: I am not staying in a room wiss zee killer! (ALL begin to

talk and shout, ad-libbing how fearful they are.)CAP’N: (Whistles loudly.) Now, hold on here! Shut yer yaps! We can’t

leave this place ’til the cops get here, right?BONNIE: That’s what Brandon—I mean Captain Beaker—said.CAP’N: We got the Chicken Feed Contest underway, right? (ALL nod.

Ominous.) And you all are under contract, remember?SOPHIA: It says nothing about murder!CAP’N: Aye! You can’t worm out o’ yer contract just because somethin’

happened to me chef. I’m the one that oughta be cryin’!RICH: Cap’n Curry’s got a point.

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CAP’N: Now, we’re gonna keep goin’ on the contest ’til the cops get here ’n’ when they’re done with us, we’ll fi nish the scurvy thing. Understand?

PHILLIP: I think we ought to take a vote. After all, you colonies are the cradle of democracy.

BEULAH: (Smacks the rolling pin on her hand.) Oh, yeah?PHILLIP: (Terrifi ed.) Of course, I vote to do whatever she says.RICH: We have the press here, and they’re unbiased. Let’s leave

the investigative work to them until the police arrive. (ALL ad-lib agreement.)

CAP’N: Then git back to work. Everybody! (CHEFS, PRUNELLA, RICH and BEULAH EXIT LEFT.)

LORI: We’ve got to fi nd Allen.QUINCY: Yeah. He sure looked green! (He and LORI EXIT RIGHT as

CAP’N and BONNIE move UPSTAGE and mime talking animatedly.)BURGUNDY: Can you believe our luck, Carla?CARLA: How can you say that?! That poor man was murdered!BURGUNDY: I know. And we’re going to bring his killer to justice!CARLA: I’m all for letting the cops do that. We’re just supposed to

collect evidence until they get here.BURGUNDY: Carla, can’t you hear it?CARLA: Hear what?BURGUNDY: Opportunity knocking! This is our big chance! We solve

this thing, and the “New York Times” will be begging for us to join the staff.

CARLA: Yeah… the custodial staff. We don’t know anything about solving a crime.

BURGUNDY: All we have to do is ask a lot of questions, put two and two together… and voilà!

CARLA: We’re dead. We’re dealing with a killer, remember?BURGUNDY: You’ve got to think positive! (CAP’N moves LEFT to EXIT,

but BURGUNDY gets to her before she can leave. BONNIE EXITS RIGHT.) Excuse me, Cap’n Curry… do you know any reason why somebody might have wanted to hurt Frank Fricassee?

CAP’N: I dunno. The only thing I can think of is somebody was after his recipe.

CARLA: The contest recipe?CAP’N: Said he had a sure-fi re winner cooked up. Said he only had

one copy, ’n’ he was keepin’ it under his hat.BURGUNDY: You mean… his chef’s hat?

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CAP’N: Where else?CARLA: Was he wearing his hat when we found him in the closet? I

don’t think so.CAP’N: (Thinks.) You’ve got a point, girlie!BURGUNDY: Then somebody might have killed him for the recipe.CARLA: I’ve heard of chocolate to die for, but this is ridiculous.CAP’N: You bet it is. I’m gonna fi nd out who did this ’n’ gut him like a

tuna! (Charges OFF LEFT as STUDENTS ENTER RIGHT.)MARCY: Feeling better, Allen?ALLEN: No. I gotta sit down. (Sits at table DOWN RIGHT.)BURGUNDY: (Moves to STUDENTS. CARLA follows.) Gosh! It must have

been awful fi nding the body like that.STACIE: Don’t remind him!CARLA: (To ALLEN.) Did you see anybody down the hallway?ALLEN: I don’t… think so.QUINCY: Everybody was here.LORI: Yeah, even Beulah the Vulture.BURGUNDY: Did you hear any noises? (ALLEN shakes his head no.)CARLA: How about a weapon? Did you notice any blunt objects that

seemed out of place in the janitor’s closet? (ALLEN suddenly holds his mouth, jumps up and runs OFF RIGHT. OTHER STUDENTS follow him OUT.)

PLACIDO: (ENTERS LEFT. Glances around, nervous.) Oh, you! Reporters! I must tell you something. I saw Sophia Cacciatore with Frank Fricassee this morning right here when I came in.

BURGUNDY: What were they doing?PLACIDO: Arguing. I hear them all the way in the parking lot!CARLA: Do you know what they were arguing about?PLACIDO: Something about muscles. I heard Frank tell Sophia she

doesn’t know muscles from—SOPHIA: (ENTERS LEFT.) Placido, mi amore! Your chicken, she is

burning like a bonfi re! (PLACIDO races OFF LEFT.)BURGUNDY: Sophia, is it true that you and Frank Fricassee had an

argument this morning?SOPHIA: Argument? No, no, no! Just a, uh, difference of opinion! But

Claudine, now she had no difference of opinion with Frank. No, no, no… I saw them this a-morning, and they were…

CARLA: They were what?SOPHIA: Kissing!

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PHILLIP: (ENTERS LEFT with PRUNELLA.) Oh, Sophia! Your marinara tasted a bit sweet, so I added a bit of vinegar.

SOPHIA: What? Vinegar! You… you fi end! You touch my marinara again, and I stuff a pizza with you! (Runs OFF LEFT.)

PRUNELLA: Well Phillip, tell them! It’s something the press ought to know.

BURGUNDY: What’s wrong?PHILLIP: Cap’n Curry’s in the kitchen right now looking for

something.CARLA: She is?PRUNELLA: And we know what it is.PHILLIP: I saw Placido with it not ten minutes ago.BURGUNDY: You saw Placido with Frank Fricassee’s chef hat?PRUNELLA: And Placido’s already got a hat of his own!PHILLIP: I’m sure there’s a very good explanation, but… I can’t think

of one.CLAUDINE: (Runs ON LEFT.) Oh, Phillip! Your chicken… it fell into zee

rinse sink wiss zee bleach!PHILLIP: What?!CLAUDINE: It just jumped right in. But at least it is clean! (PHILLIP and

PRUNELLA race OFF LEFT.)BURGUNDY: How is your recipe going, Madamoiselle Cassoulet?CLAUDINE: Très bien! I have but zee minute to give you zee beeg

clue.CARLA: On what?CLAUDINE: Phillip and his wife. Zey brought in ze new ingredients. Zey

are up to somefi ng!BURGUNDY: What could they be up to?CLAUDINE: Maybe zey fi nd Frank Fricassee’s recipe. Maybe zey kill

him for it zen do last minute shopping to buy ze ingredients!CAP’N: (Runs ON LEFT holding a chef’s hat behind her back.) Say,

Frenchie! Is that stuff in the pot supposed to be turnin’ black and smokin’?

CLAUDINE: Oh, no! My béchamel! (Runs OFF LEFT.)BURGUNDY: Any luck, Cap’n?CAP’N: Yes ’n’ no. Found Frank’s hat. (Holds up chef’s hat.)CARLA: But no recipe in it?CAP’N: Nothin’.BURGUNDY: How do you know that’s Frank’s hat?

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CAP’N: Stain right here in the shape of a chicken. Never could get that grease splatter out! With it being a chicken shape and all, we thought it was a good luck charm. Guess it didn’t bring him luck after all.

BEULAH: (ENTERS LEFT.) Cap’n! Cap’n! You got a phone call in my offi ce.

CAP’N: Maybe it be the police! (EXITS LEFT.)BEULAH: Say, girls, cookin’ up a story, huh?BURGUNDY: This is the biggest case we’ve ever covered.CARLA: It’s gonna put us in the journalism hall of fame.BEULAH: Yeah? Well, I got a real tip for you.BURGUNDY: You do?BEULAH: Yeah. I know who sent Frank Fricassee to that big kitchen

in the sky!CARLA: Who?BEULAH: Hold on! Information like that’s gotta be worth somethin’.

I mean… what do you think they pay me to cook here? I’ll tell you—chicken feed! This is my big chance to get some real meat and potatoes, if you know what I mean.

BURGUNDY: But you’ve got to tell the police what you know.BEULAH: Sure! As long as the price is right!CARLA: Don’t you think this is a little dangerous?BEULAH: Don’t worry about Beulah Brooder. I know how to take care

of two things… my kitchen and myself.BURGUNDY: Nobody’s going to pay you money to fi nd out who killed

Frank Fricassee.BEULAH: Oh no? I think the killer might… if he or she wants me to

keep my big mouth shut! (Laughs wickedly.)BURGUNDY: That’s blackmail!BEULAH: That’s a dirty word, kid.CARLA: But it is.BEULAH: Let’s call it my retirement fund.BURGUNDY: Wouldn’t an IRA be safer?BEULAH: Have you watched the stock market lately, kid? I’m not takin’

any chances. And I’m givin’ you one more. I’ll give you the name of the killer for $100,000.

BURGUNDY: I only saw that much money once in my whole life!CARLA: Yeah… when you were playing Monopoly.BEULAH: Too bad, kid. It would’ve put you up there with Bernward and

Woodstein! (EXITS LEFT.)

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BURGUNDY: (Calls after BEULAH.) It’s Woodward and Bernstein! And we still can jump into their league.

CARLA: I dunno… you got some kind of trampoline we can use?BURGUNDY: (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) You all saw everything! If you

look around, you might fi nd something that will help us solve Frank Fricassee’s murder.

WANDA: You mean we ought to snoop?MYRNA: I’m no good at snooping.ELOISE: C’mon, Myrna, you got a nose like a bloodhound.CARLA: Who knows what you’ll fi nd! There must be evidence

somewhere.DR. FEATHERS: I’ll check the janitor’s closet.CHESTER: And look! There’s a feather… and another… (Picks

“feathers” from the fl oor as he EXITS RIGHT.)BURGUNDY: We’ll check out the kitchen and bathrooms and store

rooms. You check around here, and we’ll meet back here in 15 minutes (Or however long intermission lasts.) to compare notes. (EXITS LEFT with CARLA. CURTAIN.)

End of ACT ONE

ACT TWOCURTAIN UP: The cafeteria, fi fteen minutes later. Hot pads, forks and serving spoons have been placed on the chef’s table along with glasses of water for the judges. RICH’S cordless microphone and applause sign are also on the table. The STUDIO AUDIENCE sits in their seats. PLACIDO ENTERS LEFT carrying a covered dish.PLACIDO: (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Ah! I am the fi rst one fi nished with

my dish! Can you smell that glorious aroma? Onions, garlic and saffron married to plump, juicy pieces of chicken! (To ELOISE.) I’ll bet you’d give an arm and a leg to taste my creation, no?

ELOISE: (Giggling.) Well, maybe my pinkie.PLACIDO: (To WANDA.) Your palate has never tasted anything as

delicious, no?WANDA: No! I mean, yes, I mean… what was the question?PLACIDO: (To CHESTER.) You did not, by the way… fi nd any… how do

you call it? …incriminating evidence? I seem to think in anger I tossed something out here… but you have not found it, no?

CHESTER: As a matter of fact—MYRNA: We’re not telling you! You’re one of the suspects.DR. FEATHERS: Stick to cooking. We’ll do the sleuthing. (PLACIDO

moves to chef’s table.)

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RICH: (ENTERS LEFT.) Placido! Where have you been?PLACIDO: (Indicates STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Talking to mis amigos

here…RICH: Let’s put your dish on the table here for the judges. (SOPHIA

ENTERS LEFT carrying a dish.)PLACIDO: (Places his dish on table.) The winning dish! And now I must

wash my hands and be ready to accept the award.SOPHIA: Not so fast, Placido! Wash your hands, but they won’t be

accepting any award. Here is the winning recipe!PLACIDO: It will be exciting to see you cry when you lose. (EXITS

LEFT.)SOPHIA: (Calls OFF LEFT.) Why, you… you… turkey!RICH: Here we go, Sophia. (Takes dish from her and places it on the

chef’s table.) Smells delicious!SOPHIA: Tomatoes, oregano, onions, garlic, wine… simmered con

amore. But now I step outside for a bit of air. Too much hot air in-a the kitchen with the English and the French! (EXITS RIGHT.)

RICH: (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Good! We’re alone for a minute. I… I hope that if any of you happened to fi nd anything lying around out there that might… well, pertain to little old moi… you’d have the decency to give it to me. (To MYRNA.) You didn’t fi nd anything, did you? I mean, I certainly had no reason to fricassee Frank… I never met him until this morning…

MYRNA: And if I believe that, pigs would fl y!RICH: (To WANDA.) Then I’ll just have to turn myself in even if I’m

innocent. What hope would I have of ever convincing a jury I didn’t do it if your kind, loving eyes thought of me as a ruthless killer? (Winks at MYRNA and WANDA.)

SOPHIA: (ENTERS RIGHT.) What are you doing, Signore Graivee? Trying to convince them you are innocent? Ha!

RICH: I’d never stoop that low, Sophia. (Crosses LEFT.) But a few of the others might do just that! (EXITS LEFT.)

SOPHIA: (Goes out into STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Oh, miei amici! I hope you no think I take-a this Frank Fricassee and pound his head like a veal cutlet. Me? I am too delicate, too fragile to do such a thing. (To DR. FEATHERS.) You believe Sophia, no? You are too handsome, intelligent and understanding to think that I could do such a thing, no?

DR. FEATHERS: (Flustered.) Well, now, you have a point there.SOPHIA: (To CHESTER, referring to woman sitting next to him.) She

is the jealous type, no? She has reason to be, signore! I bet you gotta big boat, a fancy car and give lots of jewelry to your

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girlfriends. Oooops! I should not reveal all your secrets! You won’t reveal Sophia’s secrets either, no?

CLAUDINE: (ENTERS LEFT carrying her covered dish.) Sophia! What are you doing in zee audience? Talking about me, I suppose. Well, of all zee nerve!

SOPHIA: Put-a the dish on-a the table before you throw it at someone. (Crosses to CENTER STAGE.)

CLAUDINE: (Sets dish on table.) My delicious chicken à la truffl es… zee truffl es cost ninety dollars an ounce, so I don’t know if I want it getting zee infection from your mess!

SOPHIA: (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Ha! I bet someone fi nd something interesting about this one, no?

CLAUDINE: Zat is impossible! (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) You no fi nd zee secrets of Claudine, do you? Zis is because Claudine has no secrets. Not like Mama Mia over zere. She has more secrets zan your FBI! But moi? If anybody fi nd out anysing zat connects me to zis Frank Fricassee, I call him liar. Liar, liar, pants on fi re! I not know zis man, and I have no desire to see him hit on zee… how you say? …zee noddle!

SOPHIA: Do not believe a word she says! You knew Frank Fricassee… in fact, I saw— (CLAUDINE screams, picks up a spoon from table and chases SOPHIA OFF LEFT.)

CAP’N: (After a beat, ENTERS LEFT carrying a dish.) Where be everybody? (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Well, at least you’re all still here. And if anybody here found out anything about Frank’s demise, lemme have it now. This be my show, and I don’t want no surprises, see? (To DR. FEATHERS.) You fi nd anythin’ incriminatin’, buster? Better hand it over if you did.

DR. FEATHERS: Or what? I’ll have to walk the plank?CAP’N: (To MYRNA.) How ’bout you? You got anythin’ up your sleeve

aside from your arm? If you got sum’m ’n’ don’t tell me about it, you’ll end up fi sh bait on the “Sweetie Pie.” That’s my boat, the “Sweetie Pie.” ’N’ I don’t mean to lose her ’cause this whole Chicken Feed idea’s a fl op. Nobody knows nothin’? (STUDIO AUDIENCE shake their heads “no.”) I don’t believe that for a second, ye landlubbers! You’d better come clean or—

BONNIE: (ENTERS RIGHT.) Oh, Cap’n Curry! What are you doing out there? I thought you had so much to do now that your chef has… well… gone to that great hibachi in the sky. What did you end up cooking?

CAP’N: Chicken mac’n cheese, if you gotta know. Saw it on “Rachael Ray” (or other famous cooking show).

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BONNIE: Oh, and who was on the phone earlier?CAP’N: None of your beeswax, lady! Boy, I forget how nosy you school

principals be! (EXITS LEFT.)PHILLIP: (ENTERS LEFT with PRUNELLA, who carries a covered dish.

Indicates table. To BONNIE.) Is this where the winning entry goes?BONNIE: (Laughs.) Well, this is the place for all the contestants’

entries. Just set it here.PRUNELLA: (Sets the dish on the table.) Well, that’s it. Our duty is

done.BONNIE: Nothing left to do now but go powder your nose before the

judging.PRUNELLA: Oh dear, does it want powdering, then? (Hurries OFF LEFT,

with PHILLIP following.)BONNIE: (Calls after them.) Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just an expression…

(Sees they are gone. Turns to STUDIO AUDIENCE.) I do hope you all understand that I had nothing whatsoever to do with that poor man’s murder. I’m a high school principal, remember, and that means I don’t do anything that’s wrong. I’ve been principal here for 22 years, and we have exemplary test scores, and our graduation rate is one of the highest in the state. (To ELOISE.) You graduated from Pickachick High, Eloise. I think you were valedictorian, weren’t you?

ELOISE: (Proudly.) As we leave these hallowed halls—BONNIE: (To MYRNA.) And you had perfect SAT scores, Myrna!MYRNA: That was my twin sister Mira. You always did get us mixed

up!BONNIE: (Referring to DR. FEATHERS.) And here’s our own doctor.

I remember what a mess you made dissecting in biology class, Felix. Now, I need to know if any of you found anything laying about that might… well… throw a bad light on me and consequently on Pickachick High. Anyone? (Firm.) If I fi nd out later that you did and didn’t tell me, you’ll have a week of detention!

BURGUNDY: (ENTERS LEFT with CARLA, both angry, followed by RICH, PLACIDO, SOPHIA, CLAUDINE, PHILLIP, PRUNELLA and CAP’N.) You can’t stop us!

CARLA: Freedom of the press!RICH: Don’t give me that or you’ll end up like a pair of pressed

ducks.PLACIDO: Quack! Quack!BURGUNDY: Whatever we’ve found out will only help us get to the

truth.CARLA: And that’s what we all want, right?

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RICH: (He, PLACIDO, SOPHIA, CLAUDINE, PHILLIP, PRUNELLA and CAP’N all look at one another nervously.) Yes, but there is such a thing as slander.

SOPHIA: Sì! For all we know, you work for “The National Enquirer.”CLAUDINE: “TV Guide.”PRUNELLA: “Ladies’ Home Journal.”PHILLIP: “Civil War Times.”CAP’N: “Poultry Plucker’s Gazette!” (ALL gasp.)BONNIE: What’s going on here?RICH: These reporters say they’ve asked the studio audience to help

look for evidence.SOPHIA: (To STUDIO AUDIENCE.) Some of you found evidence!PLACIDO: Show your faces and I make chorizo out of you.BONNIE: Please! No more violence. Remember what we were going to

do? Continue the contest…CAP’N: That’s right. Everyone’s chickens be cooked!BONNIE: And don’t they smell yummy? Shall I go get the judges?RICH: Good idea, Ms. Bird. Why don’t you round up the judges?

(BONNIE EXITS RIGHT.) We’ll get this segment on tape. And in fi ve, four, three… (Holds up fi ngers indicating two, then one. He holds up applause sign briefl y.) We’re back and about to start the much anticipated judging segment of the International Chicken Feed Contest!

CLAUDINE: Who are zee surprise judges you told us about?SOPHIA: They must be experts.PLACIDO: True connoisseurs.PHILLIP: Gourmets of the highest order!PRUNELLA: I’ll judge.CLAUDINE: No, no, no! We do not cook zee fi sh and chips.CAP’N: Besides, ye be related to one of the chefs.PRUNELLA: I can be impartial.PHILLIP: I’ll vouch for that.RICH: (Into cordless microphone.) Folks! Cap’n Curry and Let’s Eat

Network thought it would be appropriate if Quincy Quayle and his friends judge the dishes.

SOPHIA: Who is-a this Quayle person?RICH: The essay contest winner.PHILLIP: I say, you’re letting teenagers decide which dish is best?CLAUDINE: All zey know is what goes on pizza!

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SOPHIA: And what’s-a wrong with pizza, ha?CAP’N: Say what you want, teenagers are important customers to

Chicken Hut.BONNIE: (ENTERS RIGHT followed by STUDENTS.) Here we are!STACIE: We gotta eat that stuff?MARCY: It’ll be all right if you just close your eyes.ALLEN: I think I’m going to be sick again…BONNIE: Allen, you can sit right down and skip the judging part if your

tummy’s still tumbling.LORI: Well, I think it’ll be fun, won’t it, Quincy?QUINCY: Gosh… I didn’t expect to judge anything.SOPHIA: Do you understand all the fl avors?CLAUDINE: Zee nuances of zee texture and color?PHILLIP: The essence of balance and presentation?PLACIDO: What do you really know about food?QUINCY: (Shrugs.) I like to eat.RICH: And there you have it! What else could you ask for in a chicken

feed judge? All right, kids, the fi ve dishes are right over here. They are not marked… there’s no way to tell which chef prepared which dish.

SOPHIA: Except Cassoulet’s. Hers stinks like a skunk.CLAUDINE: Oh, yes? Hers is zee one zat look like… how you say?

…road kill.RICH: Ladies! Now, kids, there are clean forks in front of each dish

along with plenty of water. Take a drink after you taste each of the dishes. That will cleanse your palates.

STACIE: I already washed my hands.PLACIDO: It means your tongue.MARCY: Gross!CLAUDINE: You do not want zee taste of her slop on zee tongue when

you taste my chicken magnifi que.LORI: Whoever made buffalo wings has my vote.SOPHIA: Wings? What is this about wings?LORI: Didn’t any of you make buffalo wings? That’s my favorite kind

of chicken.PHILLIP: I say, you’re off to a very bad start.CAP’N: You sure this be a good idea, Graivee?RICH: Right over here, students, I’ve got your ballots. (Holds them up.)

Let me explain them a bit while we go to break. Back in a minute

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with more of Cap’n Curry’s International Chicken Feed Contest! (Holds up applause sign and then draws his fi nger across his throat.) And cut! (During following dialog, moves STUDENTS UPSTAGE of chef’s table and pantomimes telling them the rules and handing out ballots.)

BURGUNDY: Now we can get down to the real business at hand.CARLA: Yeah… which one of you killed Frank Fricassee? (CHEFS shout

angrily, simultaneously professing their own innocence and pointing the fi nger at one another.)

PLACIDO: I did not have a thing to do with that imbecile’s death!SOPHIA: (Overlapping.) You cannot-a blame me for any of this!CLAUDINE: (Overlapping.) You are zee fools to sink Claudine Cassoulet

is zee killer!PHILLIP: (Overlapping.) This is an outrage, plain and simple!PRUNELLA: (Overlapping.) I’m not even a chef, so count me out of

your investigation.CAP’N: (Overlapping.) Who said you could go playin’ Perry Mason?BONNIE: (Whistles loudly.) People, please! We must use our inside

voices. Why doesn’t everyone take a seat at this table here? (Indicates long chef’s table.) Let’s behave like responsible adults now and sit down and consider this a little… trial run of what will

happen when the police arrive. (CHEFS, PRUNELLA and CAP’N all take chairs from DOWN LEFT or DOWN RIGHT and sit at chef’s table angrily. RICH joins them. Throughout the ensuing scene, STUDENTS taste the dishes, make notes and follow the evolving scene with the suspects.)

BURGUNDY: Oh, we’ll have this murder solved by the time the cops get here.

PLACIDO: How do you say… fat chance?SOPHIA: You know-a nothing!CARLA: But I’ll bet they know-a plenty! (Indicates STUDIO AUDIENCE.)ELOISE: (Stands.) Well, I don’t like to tell tales out of school, but I’m

sure Placido Paella is in love with Claudine.PLACIDO: Ridículo!CLAUDINE: What would she know of zis love?ELOISE: Just this! (Holds up a napkin. PLACIDO and CLAUDINE gasp.) I

found it under a chair. Shall I read it?PLACIDO: No! No!CLAUDINE: Don’t be ridiculous, Don Juan… she’s going to anyway!BURGUNDY: Go ahead, ma’am.

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ELOISE: (Reads.) “Querida Claudine… You make my heart pitter-pat pitter-pat like a chicken fl apping its wings. XOXOXOXO, Placido.”

BONNIE: Reminds me of what we call a chicken crossing a road…PHILLIP: I say, what do we call a chicken crossing a road?BONNIE: Poultry in motion!CLAUDINE: Zat was not zee poetry. It is silly nonsense!PLACIDO: I pour my heart out to you and you call it nonsense?

(Dramatic.) Oh, cruelty, thy name is Claudine!PRUNELLA: Oh, you poor thing, Placido. But what difference does it

make if Placido had a thing for Claudine?ELOISE: Well, now, she answered him on the back of the napkin.CLAUDINE: You cannot prove zis is my ’andwriting!CARLA: (Takes napkin.) But it’s a good guess since it’s in French.BURGUNDY: An exact translation? “Sorry, Placido, but my heart

belongs to Frank.” (CLAUDINE runs RIGHT, but RICH stands and stops her.)

RICH: What’s going on, Claudine?CLAUDINE: Zey are accusing me of zee murder! Oh, cher Rich… take

me away from all zis!CAP’N: Sit down, sister. You wouldn’t have killed somebody you were

in love with, right?CLAUDINE: Oh, but of course. How stupid of me! (To RICH.) Get your

hands off me! (Sits down.)PHILLIP: But it certainly looks bad for Placido.SOPHIA: You kill a man so you can have this-a French fry?PLACIDO: I never kill anyone! And I dare you to prove it. After all…

(Moves to STUDIO AUDIENCE and indicates DR. FEATHERS.) I know that he was also in love with Claudine. I saw you two in the gondola at St. Moritz, and you were not polishing your skis.

MYRNA: Why, Dr. Feathers, are you a closet Casanova?DR. FEATHERS: I’ve never even been to St. Moritz. It was in Venice!

(Winks at CLAUDINE.)CARLA: You’re right, Señor Paella… there may be others with motives

for murder…BURGUNDY: Like Sophia Cacciatore.SOPHIA: What? You’ve-a got nothing on me!CARLA: Someone overheard you arguing with Frank Fricassee earlier

today.BURGUNDY: An argument about muscles. We thought it was the

biceps kind… you know, something about a health club.

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CARLA: But it was really sea mussels. You own a restaurant in Milan called Mama Mussels, right?

SOPHIA: What of it?MYRNA: Well, now, I love restaurants, and I read an article in the

“Milan Daily News” the last time I was in Italy, all about Mama Mussels being fi ned for serving tainted mussels! It said that with the bad publicity, business is down over 50%!

SOPHIA: It’s-a true! And you know where I got those mussels?BURGUNDY: Let me guess. Your supplier was Frank Fricassee.CAP’N: That boy sure had his fi ngers in a lot of pot pies!SOPHIA: Fricassee, he always tell-a me I not know how to cook the

mussels. I tell him to clam up. So he tries to-a ruin me!CARLA: And he almost did. Your restaurant is barely keeping its head

above chicken broth.SOPHIA: So now you know why I, Sophia Cacciatore, the greatest chef

in Italy, have sunk to a (With great disdain.) chicken feed contest. I had no idea Fricassee was involved with it.

PRUNELLA: Sounds like you could have killed Frank as easily as mincing a clam.

SOPHIA: Sì! I could have… but I no kill Frank. Sophia is a good girl. Not like some English I know.

PHILLIP: I say! What are you referring to?BURGUNDY: The fi fty thousand dollars Frank lent you to get your

London restaurant Gruel Britannia off the ground…CARLA: Fifty thousand you apparently never paid back, according to

the doctor here.PRUNELLA: What does he know?DR. FEATHERS: I found something in the victim’s pocket when I

examined him during the intermission. (He hands CARLA a note that was given to him or her at that time.) An IOU signed by Phillip Partridge for $55,000 due to Frank Fricassee. That includes interest… and there’s a big red note on the bottom… “Overdue”!

PHILLIP: You obviously just wrote that out yourself!PRUNELLA: That’s right! I… I saw him earlier… with Frank.DR. FEATHERS: I didn’t know Fricassee from chicken fi ngers!!BURGUNDY: And a handwriting expert can tell us if this is Frank’s

handwriting… and a quick look into your books will fi nd out whether you owed Frank any money.

PHILLIP: What if we did? It doesn’t mean we killed him.CARLA: But his death is very convenient for you.

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CAP’N: And I saw you with Frank’s chef hat back in the kitchen. That’s where he’d hid his secret recipe.

PLACIDO: (Heads back up ONSTAGE.) And you change your receta at the last minute.

PRUNELLA: The Cap’n is lying!CAP’N: Why would I be lyin’?BURGUNDY: Because maybe you killed Frank yourself.CAP’N: Why would I be doin’ that?CARLA: (Indicates CHESTER. To CAP’N.) Do you know this man?CAP’N: Never seen him before in me life.CHESTER: Oh, now, honeybunch, they’re gonna fi nd out sooner or

later. I got a picture of you and me lounging around on the deck of the “Sweetie Pie,” see here? (Holds up photo.)

CAP’N: Don’t be sayin’ another word, Chester! (Grabs the photo and crumples it up.)

CHESTER: But they’ll fi nd out the rest anyway!BURGUNDY: Find out the rest of what?CHESTER: Cap’n here insured Frank’s life for fi ve million dollars.BURGUNDY: That’ll buy a lot of pot pies!CAP’N: I had to protect me investment.CARLA: But if Frank quit, the policy wouldn’t be any good…CHESTER: I hate to tell ’em schnookums, but you told Frank he

couldn’t stop frying chicken ’til he dropped dead.BURGUNDY: It was the insurance company who returned your call a

little while ago, right?CARLA: I guess you didn’t waste any time cashing in.CAP’N: (Furious.) All right, Chester, dinner be on you tonight!BURGUNDY: How about you, Mr. Graivee? Frank Fricasee’s death suits

you to a “T.”RICH: I… I don’t know what you mean!CARLA: He was after your job, wasn’t he?RICH: Ridiculous!DR. FEATHERS: But, Mr. Graivee, how do you explain this? (Holds up

a memo.) I found it in the victim’s other pocket.PHILLIP: I say, good thing he wasn’t wearing cargo pants, or we’d be

here all day!BURGUNDY: (DR. FEATHERS hands memo to BURGUNDY.) This is from

Figgy Newton, executive vice-president of the Let’s Eat Network. “Frank—meet me Monday to discuss your replacing Graivee on our menu.”

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RICH: (Desperate.) She… she… meant “gravy” like the sauce. They couldn’t replace me. I AM the Let’s Eat Network!

BONNIE: (Exasperated and nervous, to BURGUNDY and CARLA.) Ladies! Ladies! This is getting us no place!

BURGUNDY: We’re just pointing out who’s got a reason to cook Frank Fricassee’s goose. And don’t worry… we haven’t forgotten about you, Ms. Bird.

BONNIE: What?! Whatever are you talking about?CARLA: You know Wanda Schlemholz, don’t you? (WANDA stands.)BONNIE: Well, of course I do. Wanda’s been our computer technician

here at Pickachick High for a number of years.CARLA: Wanda printed out a list of your e-mails while we were looking

for clues. (Pulls out a sheaf of papers.)BONNIE: Wanda! Why would you do such a thing?WANDA: Well, you know how you asked me to keep an eye on the e-

mails everybody’s sending to make sure they’re school business and not personal? Well, I remembered one address that you sent a lot of e-mails to. Frank@fricasseeme.com.

CARLA: Frank Fricassee’s e-mail address.BONNIE: You weren’t supposed to check MY e-mails, Wanda!WANDA: You said everybody, and you’re an everybody, aren’t you?CARLA: Let Ms. Schlemholz read one e-mail here.BONNIE: No!WANDA: (Reads.) “Frankie Poo… I dream about you day and night.

Can’t we please cook up some jambalaya with my favorite hot sauce after school?”

PHILLIP: Can I get that recipe?BURGUNDY: Did you and Frank turn up the heat?BONNIE: You know we didn’t. He gave me the cold shoulder. I could

have killed him! But I didn’t. I have principles. I am a principal, after all. I must set an example. And this has gone far enough! (Storms OUT RIGHT.)

PHILLIP: (To REPORTERS.) You’ve no business airing our dirty laundry in public! (EXITS LEFT with PRUNELLA.)

PLACIDO: I am insulted and humiliated!CLAUDINE: Moi aussi. (EXITS RIGHT with PLACIDO.)SOPHIA: You are two crazy meatballs!CAP’N: And you’re gonna hear from my lawyer. Got that, Chester?

(EXITS LEFT with SOPHIA.)BURGUNDY: (Shouts after them.) But one of you is a murderer!

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CARLA: (To BURGUNDY.) We’ve got to fi nd out who! (BURGUNDY EXITS LEFT, CARLA RIGHT.)

RICH: (Nervous. Changes the subject.) All right, kids, you’ve tasted all the dishes.

STACIE: Well, the only one that didn’t make me sick was—RICH: Don’t say another word. We’re going to the kitchen, and you’ll

have a chance to decide together which one wins the chicken feed contest. Then we’ll get your fi nal decision on tape.

QUINCY: Just like a jury.RICH: And you’re the foreman.LORI: Oh, Quincy, I’m so impressed!RICH: Right this way, judges. (Leads STUDENTS OFF LEFT.)WANDA: So, Chester, it sounds like you’ve gone from the frying pan

into the chicken stock!ELOISE: Somehow you don’t seem Cap’n Curry’s type.DR. FEATHERS: I fi gured she’d go more for someone like Charlie

Tuna.CHESTER: (Rising angrily.) Look, she’s a little rough around the

edges.WANDA: But inside beats a heart of coal! (ELOISE, MYRNA and DR.

FEATHERS laugh.)CHESTER: (EXITING RIGHT, angry.) Oh, I gotta get out of here!MYRNA: It is a bit stuffy in here.DR. FEATHERS: That’s because of all the hot air! Come on, we can

all use a breath of fresh air. (STUDIO AUDIENCE MEMBERS EXIT RIGHT.)

BEULAH: (ENTERS LEFT, holding a note. Sings gruffl y to self.) I’m in the money! My days are sunny! Oh, I’ve hit the jackpot! Got a note here from my client asking to meet in the parking lot. Sounds like my client is agreeable to paying me a hundred grand to not describe how I saw a giant chicken come in here right up to this very table when Frank was in here alone. I went back into the kitchen, but then heard two thwacks… like somebody getting clobbered with a rubber chicken. I stepped into the hallway and lo and behold, I saw this giant chicken stuffi ng Fricassee into the closet. (From RIGHT, a giant chicken ENTERS carrying a rubber chicken. [See PRODUCTION NOTES.] BEULAH doesn’t see it as it sneaks up behind her.) And then the stupid chicken takes off its mask… and you’ll never guess who it was. And it doesn’t matter… as long as Rhode Island Red pays me, I’ll keep my beak shut. But I do intend to bleed the stupid bird dry! (GIANT CHICKEN grabs BEULAH and pulls her down behind

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the counter UP LEFT. We see the rubber chicken being raised, then lowered and hear a LOUD CLUCKING SOUND. The CHICKEN stands up a moment later, clucks, then runs OFF RIGHT just as STUDENTS ENTER LEFT.)

QUINCY: Hey! You guys see that?ALLEN: A giant chicken!MARCY: This day’s getting stranger and stranger by the moment!STACIE: I’ll say.LORI: Where’d everybody go?ALLEN: Who cares?MARCY: I’ll feel a whole lot better when the cops get here.STACIE: You really think they’ll be able to solve this thing?MARCY: No, but at least we’ll get to go home!LORI: I’m thirsty. Want a soda, Quincy?QUINCY: Wow, if Beulah the Vulture fi nds out she’ll eat us alive!ALLEN: What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’ll take your orders.

(Moves behind UP LEFT counter. He sees BEULAH, staggers back in front of counter and faints.)

MARCY: Allen! What’s wrong?STACIE: He fainted!LORI: What’s back there? (MARCY and STACIE walk behind counter and

scream. ALL OTHERS run ON.)BURGUNDY: What’s wrong?CAP’N: Who be doin’ all that screamin’?CARLA: What happened to Allen?RICH: Is he okay?QUINCY: He fainted… I think. C’mon, guys… let’s get him outside for

some air. (STACIE, and MARCY help ALLEN OFF RIGHT as QUINCY and LORI slip OFF LEFT.)

PLACIDO: (Moves to UP LEFT counter.) Holy cow!BURGUNDY: You mean holy chicken!BONNIE: Oh, dear! It’s Beulah! (DR. FEATHERS bends down to check

the body.)PHILLIP: I say, is that a rubber chicken lying there?CARLA: A blunt object! (Holds up the rubber chicken.)SOPHIA: What could have happened to her?BURGUNDY: Dr. Feathers, is she…?DR. FEATHERS: I’m afraid she’s served up her last mac and cheese.BURGUNDY: What’s that in her hand?

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DR. FEATHERS: (Bends to pick up recipe card, using a handkerchief so as not to ruin fi ngerprints.) It’s a recipe. “One large chicken, one watermelon, three jalapenos—“

CAP’N: That’s Frank’s recipe!MYRNA: But there’s something on the back!BONNIE: It looks like a note! (DR. FEATHERS hands it to BURGUNDY,

still using handkerchief.)BURGUNDY: Oh, gosh! Listen to this: “Don’t get your feathers ruffl ed!

Birds of a feather must fl ock together. Meet me in ten minutes.”CARLA: So she was blackmailing someone and was going to meet

them here! (ALL look nervously from one to another.)WANDA: Won’t it be obvious from the handwriting?BURGUNDY: Hard to tell—it’s just chicken scratch.ELOISE: But on “CSI” (Or a current popular TV crime show.) there are

always fi ngerprints on everything.CARLA: I don’t think we have to wait for a fi ngerprint expert to solve

these murders.BURGUNDY: The suspects are pretty obvious! Rich Graivee wanted

Frank Fricassee out of the way because Fricassee was about to derail Graivee’s gravy train and replace him on Let’s Eat Network.

CARLA: Placido Paella hated Frank Fricassee because Placido’s girl, Claudine, sent him packing when she fell for Frank.

BURGUNDY: Unfortunately Frank didn’t fall for Claudine—and she hated him because there’s no fury like a chick who’s spurned.

CARLA: Sophia held Frank responsible for sending her tainted mussels, which has almost ruined her business.

BURGUNDY: Phillip and Prunella owed Frank 50,000 clams—55 with interest—and they weren’t digging into their pockets too deeply to pay him back.

CARLA: Cap’n Curry stood to gain the most from Frank’s death as long as he was still employed by Chicken Hut —cashing in on a fi ve-million-dollar insurance policy, which isn’t exactly chicken feed.

BURGUNDY: And Bonnie Bird was devoted to Frank, but he had eyes for some other chick.

CARLA: Of course, the rest of us didn’t have any motive at all.PHILLIP: So just tell us… who cooked Frank and Beulah’s geese?CARLA: It’s up to our star witnesses.BURGUNDY: (Moving to the two AUDIENCE MEMBERS in the STUDIO

AUDIENCE.) As it happens, two members of our studio audience are licensed private eyes.

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CARLA: They’ve watched every move here, and I bet they know who the killer is! (To two AUDIENCE MEMBERS.) Why don’t you talk privately over here (Leads them UP RIGHT.) and make sure you agree.

RICH: This is ridiculous.PLACIDO: They don’t know a thing.SOPHIA: They sit there and stare like dead ducks.CLAUDINE: Zey are no Descartes. Zey cannot even understand zee

clues!PHILLIP: One of us, the killer?PRUNELLA: In a giant chicken suit? Can you see me in such a

thing?CAP’N: You’d probably be lookin’ better than ye do now.PRUNELLA: Why, you old sea dog! Take that back. Take it back!PHILLIP: I say! This is going too far! (The SUSPECTS all erupt into a

boisterous argument.)PRUNELLA: You can’t keep us here! (Drags PHILLIP OFF RIGHT.)SOPHIA: We leave now! (Runs OFF RIGHT.)CLAUDINE: I take no more of zees nonsense! (Runs OFF LEFT.)PLACIDO: Claudine! Wait for me! (Races OFF LEFT.)RICH: Cap’n Curry! Get yourself a new network! (Runs OFF RIGHT.)CAP’N: I’m through with TV! (EXITS LEFT.)BONNIE: I just remembered, I’ve got to go… go… check some test

scores, so�