By Joey Bauer
Sidekick has always wanted to be a Superhero's assistant. He gets his chance with Fat Midget 24.
Sidekick
Fat Midget
Sidekick: Look in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's, it's... (Looks around in the air questioningly).
Fat Midget: Down here you twit!
Sidekick: Oh right. It's Fat midget 24! He's faster than a speeding turtle. Able to leap tall buildings, made of legos. He's fighting for truth, justice, and the occasional bear claw.
Fat Midget: That was good! You know I like you. You're not afraid to tell a super hero how it is. You wouldn't believe some of the intros people came up with trying not to offend me. Here he is, the big-boned vertically challenged defender of pastries... I mean come on, are they serious. Your introduction part of the exam is high, but there is still one more test.
Sidekick: Okay give it to me.
Fat Midget: I will give you three words, you must repeat these words after me. Got it.
Sidekick: Wait wait. So it's three words.
Fat Midget: Yes, I say a word you repeat it, I say a word, you repeat, word repeat, got it.
Sidekick: Yeah I'm ready.
Fat Midget: First word, goat!
Sidekick: Goat?
Fat Midget: Second word, hippopotamus.
Sidekick: Hippopotamus
Fat Midget: Wrong.
Sidekick: What!
Fat Midget: No, the third word was wrong. You have failed the test.
Sidekick: You gotta give me another chance. Ever since I was a little boy, all I ever wanted to be was a super hero. But I realized that would never happen, figuring out very painfully my lack of super hero abilities, so I set my sights lower. I would be the sidekick to the biggest super hero of our time.
Fat Midget: Well you came to the right place. I'm going to give you a second chance.
Sidekick: Really you mean it.
Fat Midget: Yeah, but it means settling this man-to-man.
Sidekick: Oh you can't possibly mean....
Fat Midget: (Jumps on the table) That's right, it starts with a little one of these. (slaps sidekick gently), and a little one of these. (rolls other hand into a fist and shakes it menacingly).
Sidekick: Oh that's how it's going to be, huh. Well let's throw down.
(Both jump away from each other and begin to play rock, paper, scissors.)
Sidekick: Ha ha, I win!
Fat Midget: Okay fine, but if you're going to be my sidekick, you have to have a kicking name. Let's see. How about...no- talent man (echo off) man man. No, that may intimidate our nemesis. Let's just call you, say what's your name anyway?
Sidekick: Well since your showing interest it's.......
Fat Midget: Wait, I got it: Pickles! It's beautiful. It rolls off the tongue, Pickles.
Pickles: I don't think I like the name...
Fat Midget: Oh be quiet Pickles, we have work to do.
Pickles: If I'm going to be your sidekick, you know what that means...
Fat Midget: I have someone to boss around and get my coffee.
Pickles: Well, that too. But I was thinking costumes! (Goes behind a dressing curtain and begins to change) I have the perfect costume back here. It sure is dark. You're going to love it. (After he changes, Pickles jumps out and does his super hero strut right up to FM24, who bust into laughter.)
Fat Midget: That is your costume?
Pickles: (Pickles looks down to see he's wearing a pink leotard.) Oh my gosh. Uh, wrong costume. (Runs behind curtain, but immediately returns.) You won't tell anyone about this will you? (Runs back behind curtain. Changes and jumps back next to FM24 in new attire).
Pickles: Okay, I'm ready to fight crime.
Fat Midget: Are you sure? Because this is a very grueling and dangerous job. The one thing you must never forget if ever you're in a life-threatening situation is...(phone rings. Fm 24 answers.)
Fat Midget: Yeah... uh huh, no not... okay I'll be there.
Pickles: Who was that?
Fat Midget: It was the leader of our secret covert underground organization to fight crime.
Pickles: Really we have a secret... covert underground organization to fight crime?
Fat Midget: No! Not like that. You have to say it in a sneaky sly voice like this. Secret covert underground organization to fight crime.
Pickles: Yeah, yeah whatever. So what is the organization.?
Fat Midget: It is called D-Lax.
Pickles: What is D-Lax?
Fat Midget: D-Lax is the company who manufactures Turbo-drop, the little pill with the one two punch.
Pickles: Why is the leader of our secret covert underground organization the manager of a laxative producer?
Fat Midget: The laxative is only a cover-up to hide our secret identities, plus it gives us money to buy these really cool costumes and weapon type thingies.
Pickles: Gotta have the weapon type thingies. So who we going after chief? Nelson the lunch-money stealing bully at school, or Martin, the man who runs the candy store? Something's going on there?
Fat Midget: Kid, you're in the big leagues now. We're going after Skippy the Squirrel.
Pickles: No! Not Skippy
Fat Midget: Yes that's him.
Pickles: But he's the most, he's the most, ugh diabolical..?
Fat Midget: You have no idea who he is, do you?
Pickles: No, none. Could you help me out here?
Fat Midget: Well don't let the cute looks and fun name fool you. Skippy is actually quite vicious. He started out in life finding early fame. You may have seen some of his movies. Skippy has tea, Skippy Walks the Dog, and Skippy goes to Vietnam. But soon he grew too old to play the cute roles of a young squirrel, so he set his sights on world domination.
Pickles: Really... so how's that working for him?
Fat Midget: Quite well actually, but that's why they called us.
Pickles: So where is Skippy?
Fat Midget: He's in Happy Hills psychiatric ward?
Pickles: What's he doing in a nut house?
Fat Midget: Asked and answered.
Pickles: Okay, so How we gonna get there.
Fat Midget: We're super heroes. How do you think we're going to get there? (Both jump forward and put one leg in the air and extend their arms as though flying, after a short pause each kicks his leg in unison as though they were riding a scooter.)
Pickles: Agh, we're here.
Fat Midget: Man I wish our capes would get back from the dry cleaners.
Pickles: Yeah, but the ...scooters are a good workout. Okay we need a plan.
Fat Midget: All right here's what I'm thinking. You go in there alone, braving the unknown but almost certainly life threatening obstacles that Skippy has set up. If indeed you manage to navigate through the serious of intricate and deadly traps you will come face to face with Skippy's legions of followers. Now in the miraculous event that you actual survive through all this you will have to face the most ferocious creature known to man. Skippy: dun dun dun. And while you're doing all this, I'll be out here facing the most fatal trial of all: the media.
Pickles: Well as good as that sounds, I think I have a better idea. Instead of having me find my way through the deadly traps, fight off the legions of Skippy, and single-handedly take down the most diabolic super villain known to man, I think you should do it.
Fat Midget: Well it seems there is only one way to settle this. A ritual as old as it is pointless.
Pickles: Oh you don't mean..
Fat Midget: Oh yeah that's right...(both clasp fists and begin a thumb war).
Unison: One two three four, I declare a thumb war.
(They wrestle with each other for some time but neither gains any ground)
Fat Midget: This is pointless!
Pickles: You're right. There has to be a plan of action.
Fat Midget: I have it. It's risky, but desperate times call for cowardly tactics. So here it is. We sneak in the front door and place this bomb (FM reaches in a bag and picks out an explosive looking device.) inside. We set the timer for five minutes and then casually walk out as though we were nothing more than a couple of average Joes walking through the park.
Pickles: Sounds good.
Fat Midget: You better take the bomb. You're taller after all. (They walk off stage and we hear from off stage)
Fat Midget: Okay, set the timer.
Pickles: All right, five seconds just like you said. Now I press start and we casually walk off.
Fat Midget: Wait! No, five minutes, not seconds!
Pickles: Uh too late.
Unison: RUN!!
(The two come jumping back on stage as the lights go off.)
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Copyright Joey Bauer, all rights reserved.
This script may be performed free of charge, provided no charge is made for admission. In return, the author would appreciate being told when the script is used. He may be contacted at jbauer@sckans.edu