There are gaps in the teeth for such jokes. A play for 10 people. Comedy. Nikolay Lakutin
with a guilty head). Here.
Tolik defiantly pushes the saucer with the cake forward, guiltily misses his gaze and head.
Dasha (confused, in mixed feelings). What is it? I mean, here? What are you putting a cake under my nose here? (Strictly, defiantly) Where is your Anechka?
Tolik (barely restraining victorious laughter). Here it is…
Tolik giggles and points to the pieces of cake he has brought.
Dasha (confused, in mixed feelings, nervous). What do you mean?
Tolik (barely restraining victorious laughter). The cake is called "Anechka". I baked it for you, but I didn't wait, I ate almost all of it myself.
Tolik begins to laugh openly, seeing his wife's reaction.
Dasha understands what's what, puts her hands on God, rounds her eyes and with strength and emotion gives her husband her soaked nerves and everything she has just experienced.
Dasha (as emotionally as possible, brightly loud). Su.....
Here you need a loud beeping!!!
We do not let Dasha finish her capacious word publicly, even though she completes it.
The husband blooms and smells. The joke was a success, he achieved his goal.
Dasha grabs this plate, and smears it with all her heart in Tolik's face, with great diligence smearing the remains of the cake into his shining radiant smile.
Tolik's mood is changing. He's not having fun anymore. He is silent, trying to dig out of his nose, eyes, and, well, from where the remains of the cake may be there.
Dasha freaks out, starts rushing around the room, collecting things.
Dasha (as emotionally as possible, brightly loudly). Noooo! It's impossible. You can't live like this anymore. I put up with this weirdo as long as I could, but, my dear little joker. (With decent gestures) Would you go with your jokes to…
Zapikivaem!
Dasha (as emotionally as possible, brightly loudly). In....
We kick!
Dasha (as emotionally as possible, brightly loudly). And to E....
Zapikivaem!
Dasha (as emotionally as possible, brightly loudly). … mothers!!!
Dasha continues to collect her things. He takes out a suitcase from somewhere, casually throws his belongings there.
Dasha (in the process of emergency fees). After all, my mother told me that with this homegrown KVN player, there is nothing to wait for except a shattered nervous system. (Harshly addressed to her husband) Humorist – put him in a sweatshirt!
Dasha nervously throws things right on the floor, looks into the auditorium, looking for support and compassion. Puts his hand on his heart, speaks sincerely from the Heart.
Dasha (coming to the foreground, addressing the viewer). Girls! I understand that we all want a young, mischievous, bright, witty. So that it would not be boring to live with him. To be like on a volcano.
She nods in the direction of her husband, makes a short pause in the monologue.
Dasha (to the viewer, nodding towards her husband). There… sits the pearl-spewer! Do you want such a husband perlun? Girls, don't repeat my mistakes. Let it be better to have some kind of brake, a ram, a club. It doesn't matter who, but not the joker. Because it is simply impossible to live with a joker. It's not a full house, it's not a quest, it's…
Zapikivaem! Zapikivaem! Zapikivaem! Zapikivaem! Zapikivaem!
We actively jam Dasha's emotional speeches while she mumbles something there and expounds in a fairly emotional form along with active gestures.
Dasha turns to her husband, Tolik just by this moment more or less manages to clean his face and settle down, as if nothing had happened, in some kind of a sitting place.
Dasha (viciously, a little bit). That's it! I'm confused! Goodbye!
Dasha quickly throws the remnants of things into the suitcase. She picks up what she threw from the floor, grabs a couple of other things, quickly zips it all into a suitcase and leaves, finally growling nervously.
ZTM.
Scene 2. In the park
Soft lyrical romantic music is playing. The dimmed light turns on.
Under the park lights in a romantic setting in different places there are three loving couples kissing.
The girls are standing with their backs to us, we can't see their faces. We may see some men.
These couples are doing well, everything is wonderful. Girlish giggles are heard, men gently hug their ladies, stroke them, kiss them. Love, romance, pleasure – everything is super.
Completely out of line with this picture of romanticism, Tolik comes out from somewhere on the side, there, behind the couples. He's in a very bad mood. Hands in your pants. The shirt is casually put on. Part of the shirt is tucked into the trousers, part is not. The collar is partially standing. He himself walks haggard. In general, sadness, longing, confusion.
Tolik looks at these couples with mild glances with displeasure, slowly passes between them, goes to the forefront, look into the hall with dull eyes. But now, a mischievous twinkle appears in those dull eyes. Dirty glitter and cunning. Tolik's smile begins to spread across his face. The viewer sees that this vile figure has come up with something.
Tolik stands for a few seconds with his contented dirty face, running his devilish eyes around the auditorium, pulls out a mobile phone from his pocket, and as if calling someone.
Romantic music subsides, but does not stop.
Tolik (very loudly, in all seriousness). Healthy, old man. How is he? Is it okay? Listen, here's your woman with some guy in the park kissing…
Tolik does not have time to finish the sentence, all three girls hurriedly and frantically leave their men.
With the escape of the girls, the romantic music ends.
Tolik, looking at the result of his activity, rather lowers the phone, openly laughs. He no longer looks there in the park, bends over with laughter, holds his stomach, turns towards the auditorium and tries to catch his breath from his "successful" joke.
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