There's a Snake in the House

Photo of the actual Snake in the
actual trash can moments before
his untimely demise.
A (mostly) nonfiction work written in script format by Steve Skaggs

DISCLAIMER: This really happened, and, yes, we really did kill the snake. I know there was truly no reason to do so. We could have done something far more kind, such as releasing it into a nearby field or putting it into a neighbor’s mailbox. (Yes, “neighbor,” you know who you are!) But we were panicked. We were not thinking clearly. And, besides, if that snake didn’t want to end up dead, he should have stayed outside where he belonged!

CAST (in order of appearance)

    Cindy: The mother. She don’t do snakes.
    Dad: Heroic leader of the family. Unflappable.
    Jason: Sharp-eyed teenage son of Cindy and Dad. Laconic.
    Black Snake: Out of his element and doomed from the start.
    Caleb: Teenage son armed with shovel. Stoical.

OPENING SCENE
A sunny Thursday afternoon. Cindy is resting on the bed after work. Dad is napping peacefully on the couch. Suddenly, Jason sees something unusual in the hall.

Jason (laconically): Mom, did Caleb leave a rubber snake in the hallway as a joke?

Mom (not yet alarmed, but vigilant): No.

Dad: Snore.

Jason (laconically): Did you leave a rubber snake in the hallway as a joke?

Mom (with rising alarm): No!

Dad: Snore.

Jason: Walks back to hallway and sees that the “rubber snake” is moving.

Jason (to Dad, laconically): There’s a snake in the house.

Dad (awakening, confused, from an upsetting but recurring dream in which he is running around the backstage of a theatre trying to find his costume and realizing he has never memorized his lines even though he is supposed to be onstage in two seconds): Snort! What!?

Jason (to Dad, laconically): There’s a snake in the house.

Dad (resorting to his usual default mode—irritation—as his arms and legs flail while he endeavors to hoist his bulk from the couch): I HEARD what you SAID, but what do you MEAN?!

Jason (laconically, after a pause): There’s . . . a snake . . . in the house.

Dad: WHERE!?

Jason (pointing): In the dining room.

Dad (seeing a two-foot long black snake wriggling in the corner of the dining room and realizing that As The Father he must Take Charge, responds with confidence and aplomb): Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. (etc., ad lib.)

Cindy (from bedroom, voice muffled by multiple comforters): HOW BIG IS IT???

Jason (laconically): Not too big.

Dad (at same time): IT’S HUGE!!!

Cindy (still in bedroom, whimpers, her voice still muffled): Hail Mary, full of grace. . . .*

Dad (wiping sweat from brow): Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. (Runs out of room to get a bucket.)

Snake: Slithers around the corner and INTO THE PANTRY.

Dad (returning with bucket): Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. (etc., ad lib.)

Jason: (laconically) Well, I guess he’s gone.

Dad (frantic): Gone? GONE??? Jason, he’s still in the pantry, and if we have to tell your mother that we couldn’t find him but he’s hiding in the pantry somewhere but “we’re sure he’ll come out again sometime,” you and I will slowly starve to death because your mother will exit the house through the bedroom window, never to be seen again, and I don’t know about you, but no matter how much I want Little Debbie Fudge Rounds, I’M not stickin’ my hand in no pantry when there’s a chance a snake will lick me with his little disgusting forky tongue! BLEAH!!!

Snake: Endeavors to climb up the back wall of the pantry to get on the shelves.

Dad: BLEAH, BLEAH, BLEAH (shivers) THIS IS REVOLTING! Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. Oh my word. (etc., ad lib.)

Jason: Scoops snake out of pantry with a broom and into the bucket Dad is holding.

Snake: Immediately launches himself out of the bucket, just missing Dad’s left hip.

Dad: GAAAAAHH! THIS IS SO REVOLTING! (Does a few tippy-toe hippity-hoppity impromptu dance steps across the kitchen floor.)

Jason (laconically): Yeah, you already said that. (Pulls trash can liner out of tall kitchen trash can and scoops the snake into the trash can with the broom.)

Dad: Great! Great!

Cindy (still muffled): What’s happening!?

Dad (picking up trash can): I got him! I got him! . . . Thanks for your help, Jason.

Jason (shrugging laconically): Sure.

Dad and Jason: Escort Snake, still in trash can, outside into the front yard, “hating even the trash can spotted by the snake.” (That is an obscure Bible allusion.) Dad and Jason stand in front yard, shaken but not stirred. (That is an obscure James Bond allusion.) Actually, both of them are shaken AND stirred.

Jason: (laconically) How you gonna kill it?

Dad: HOW AM I GONNA KILL IT? HOW COME EVERYTHING AROUND HERE IS ALWAYS MY JOB ALL THE TIME?

Enter Caleb, pulling car into the driveway.

Dad (nudging Jason) Hey, won’t it be funny to watch his eyes get real big when he sees what we have in the trash can? Hee hee hee! (clears throat) Hey Caleb, come see what we have in the trash can!

Caleb (stoically, exiting car): Snake.

Dad (defaulting to irritation again) What!? How’d you know?

Caleb (stoically) Mom texted. (Looking in trash can.) Hm!

Dad: Isn’t he HUGE? I mean, he’s just HUGE! Uh, we were just discussing the best way to kill him. I thought maybe the lawn mower, but I couldn’t get it started last week, so. . . .

Caleb (stoically): Gimme the shovel.

Dad: Huh? What? Are you. . . ?

Caleb (stoically but with rising irritation) Gimme . . . the . . . shovel.

Dad: Obediently hands Caleb a shovel which has magically appeared in his hands at this point in the story because it is required for dramatic purposes.

Caleb: Raises shovel above trash can, blade downward, poised for fatal chop.

Dad: I think I’ll check the mail now. . . .

Caleb: WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAMWHAMWHAM. (Pause.) WHAM WHAM WHAMWHAMWHAM.

Dad: Uh, is he . . . ?

Caleb (after looking carefully into trash can): WHAM WHAM WHAM. (Looks in trash can again.) That oughta do it.

Dad: Thanks. I can’t believe you did that.

Caleb (shrugging stoically): Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

* No, we aren’t Catholic.

Copyright 2023 by Steven Nyle Skaggs

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