The cobbler boy’s dream
| Time: | approx. 3-5 minutes |
| Recommended age: | from 10 |
| Size of group: | 3 performers |
| Time for preparation: | none, only 10-15 minutes to train the sketch |
| Material: | shoes and some cobbler tools |
Game description
Location: A cobbler’s workshop with table, shoes and tools. There are a few books on a table or stool
Players: The cobbler, his wife and the trainee.
The cobbler and his trainee are sitting at the work bench and are hammering. Without looking up from his work, the boy keeps laughing out loud every now and again.
The cobbler (annoyed): "If you do not stop the stupid giggling, I’ll give you one in a minute!" The boy giggles quietly.
The wife: "Why are you laughing then?"
The trainee: "Oh, madam! I dreamt of something so wonderful last night."
The wife: "Dreamt? Oh yes! You have to tell me all about it!" To herself: "I’ll quickly fetch the dream book so I can found what the dream means."
She grabs the fat book. "Come on then, Fritz!"
The cobbler: "Get a move on. It won’t be anything decent anyway!"
The trainee: "I dreamt that the cobbler and I, myself and the cobbler went over a bridge together, one on the left and one on the right."
The wife: "Over a bridge? That is no. 46." She leafs through the book excitedly.
The trainee: "On the side where the cobbler was walking, the bridge was paved with golden honey coloured plaster and on my side there was nothing but dirt."
The cobbler: "You can see that a master cobbler has an advantage over a smart aleck lad." He is smiling all over his face.
The wife: "That is no. 28." She leafs and reads her book.
The trainee stands up and carries on grinning: "Then we both fell over. The cobbler in the sweet honey and I fell into the dirt."
The wife: "That is no. 74." She leafs through.
The cobbler: Smiles and licks his lips: "Yes, and then?" he asks.
The trainee: The boy slaps his hands on his thighs, laughs and laughs with his head pulled back: "And then — and then we licked each other clean!"
The boy runs away. The wife fall down into her seat and wrings her hands. The cobbler reaches for a sweeping brush and runs after the boy.
Judging
no scoring
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