Instant Monologues
Prayer Instant Monologue



The chapel is empty except for a man standing awkwardly in a pew.

(fidgeting and glancing up at the ceiling)

All right, look, Lord. It's time we talked about some things, so listen up.

(Self-reflective pause.)

I recognize that this is a bad way to start out negotiations, but you're the one who's supposed to love all people, no matter what. I don't even know how I'm supposed to get the maximum effect here.

(Awkwardly tries to kneel. Clasps hands and closes eyes.)

What I wanted to ask you is-

(Pause. Opens one eye and squints at the ceiling. Sighs and drops hands.)

Okay, wait, look. Here's the problem I've always had with prayer: it makes no sense. I mean, A: How does me begging make this effective? Aren't you supposed to just provide like a good parent should? What if I only gave Karlee her dinner when she asked politely? She'd starve, is what would happen. And B: Why should I think for even a second that you're listening to me? Last week, thousands of people died of Ebola, a horror that I believe you invented. I think praying to a mad scientist who looses biological warfare on His own creation is the definition of lunacy.

(Starts to get up and rethinks it. Wearily clasps hands together again.)

I tried praying to you when I was a kid, of course. Then again, I prayed to Santa for all the same reasons, so you can see I was a bit fuzzy on the subject. You never did send me that new bike. Or the flamethrower. Or a sober father. But that's okay, Lord, because I've learned to do without.


I've never needed a father much anyway. And I never had a problem standing up for myself. Let the record show that I've never asked you for a damn thing.


And neither has Alicia. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Alicia has done more good on this planet than you have. She's certainly healed more people, although most of them end up thanking you when they're discharged. So really, Alicia's a good doctor and she's given you good PR. You should be trying to keep her alive, not slowly killing her with…

(Swallows hard)

My point is, she's a mother, and a wife, and a much better Christian than me. I know you take roll here, so I'll be coming to church every week for her and keeping up her Brownie points. I'll do whatever I have to. If you'll do this for me.

So I am ask…I am telling you, okay? Quit screwing around up there and act like the sitcom dad you're supposed to be. Fix your mistakes. Make her better.

(Long pause.)


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