Men's Comedic Monologues That Are Actually Funny

by Alisha Gaddis

  Now if you will excuse me, my cocoa crisps deserve this organic milk.

  Moving In

  Alessandra Rizzotti

  PATRICK, 20-something

  PATRICK is a hot pool-boy type who is earnest, eager, and wanting to please everyone. He is at his best friend Shawn’s home and has just been caught coming out of Shawn’s father’s bedroom. He is about to tell Shawn that he is in love with Shawn’s father, and that he’ll be moving in.

  PATRICK I know you’ve been angry with me recently. And I value your friendship so much, so it’s been hard holding this in and I really just want to tell you. Because you mean a lot to me. Shit. Ten years growing up together, going to college together, going up to Big Bear that one time . . .

  Okay, here goes. Your dad and I are developing a really close relationship that actually happened up at the slopes when you were like, “Where did you go?” And I was like, “Nowhere.” I know I’m your age and stuff so that might be weird for you, but I didn’t grow up with a dad, as you know, so it’s not that weird for me. I want you to know that my love for you as a brother, a friend, it was never because of my attraction to your dad. I totally sound like I have daddy issues . . . shit. I value you so much. I know my actions don’t seem to say it now, but rather than being your friend, I want to be your second dad. I want to care for you like my own kid. Sounds fucked up, but that’s actually how I felt about you before I became your friend.

  So, I’ll be around the house more often now. Doing chores and stuff, cleaning up after your brother. It might be a little weird at first seeing your best friend getting all parental, but I bet over time we’ll be a happy family. Your dad wanted to tell you with me, but I just couldn’t hold it in any longer because I’m so EXCITED. I’m really just pumped to be around even more often now. Aren’t you?

  Understandably, you’re weirded out. Shit. I didn’t mean to get selfish just now. This is probably like the time my mom came home from stripping and told me she was dating my stepbrother. I mean, except I’m outing your dad in front of you. Crap. That makes me a shithead. I hope you don’t see it that way.

  [PATRICK’s partner walks in.]

  I was just telling John about us. He seems to be taking it fine. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll fix us some mimosas? Don’t give me that look, Jerry. You know I can’t hold surprises in.

  [PATRICK turns to his friend.]

  You’re going to love living with me. And I know we usually call each other “bro,“ but maybe get used to calling me “dad” or “daddio” or “pops.” “Pa”? “Bro pa”? Ha-ha, that’s lame. “Dadster” is pretty good.

  Sandwiches

  Brandon Econ

  WALTER MOORE, 39

  WALTER MOORE is the kind of guy that really tested the boundaries of his body, mind and spirit in college. When he got married he vowed to never go back to the “dark days”. That doesn’t mean he’s ignorant however so when it comes to sniffing out the onset of bad behavior with his son his sense memory kicks in and he knows exactly what’s going on. He doesn’t want his son to miss out on experiences but he wants to make sure he understands the consequences. He’s talking to his son at the top of the stairs in a two story townhouse.

  WALTER Hey buddy, before you go to practice, I want to talk to you about something. Alright? So, I was in your room earlier today. I know what you’re going to say—that’s a violation of your privacy . . . and you’re right. I’m sorry I did it. But I saw something while I was in there. I saw some crusts. Have you been eating sandwiches? Don’t lie to me.

  Pastrami on rye? Jesus, Brian. I thought your mother and I raised you better. You know pastrami on rye is a gateway sandwich, right? Listen to me. I’m not just your dad—I’m your friend.

  It’s just one sandwich? Yeah, now it is, but just you wait. Next it’s going to be corned beef on rye, then it’s the Rachel, and god forbid you start eating reubens. I know all about it alright. Your dad was a kid, too. Is it peer pressure? Your friends probably got you into this. Remember that boy, Tommy, up the street? Didn’t he just get caught handing out PB&J’s? Listen, son, I’m glad we caught this early on.

  I’m not making a big deal out of it for nothing, alright? Let me tell you a story. Back when I was your age, maybe a little older, me and my buddies took a trip to New Orleans for spring break. We did it all, the French Quarter, the church of St. Expedite, the jazz clubs, the beach, everything. But that’s also, unfortunately, where I discovered, muffulettas. I’m ashamed to say that in front of my own son, but your pops is addicted to muffulettas. Any chance I got, I’d try and get my hands on one. It got to the point that whenever I heard the pop of a lid, I’d go into a rage thinking it was someone opening a jar of giardiniera.

  It’s a kind of olive salad son. It’s not important. The point is, I don’t want that to be you. I don’t want you to be walking down Bourbon Street with your friends and them having to physically pry you away from a deli window just because they’re carving up mortadella.

  Look—my hands are shaking.

  Listen buddy, I know where you get it. Our whole family’s this way. My father, your grandfather, used to place bologna on top of the toaster so it would drip onto the bread. I mean, I’m lucky. I’ve got your mother. If it wasn’t for her, who knows where I’d be. I’d probably be giving out hand jobs just to lick a piece of provolone. But you’re young—you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t throw it away on a little meat and bread. Promise me.

  That’s a good boy. Alright, now you want to come downstairs and have a drink with your old man?

  The Third Date

  Deborah Gross

  Premiered at the Hollywood Fringe Festival in Los Angeles.

  EVAN, 30s

  EVAN is on a third date. He has invited his date, Allie, to his apartment. They sit in silence on the couch, while Evan tries to think of another story to share to impress his date and show all his appealing characteristics.

  EVAN What scares me? Nothing. I’m supercool. Okay. I’ll be serious. Let me think.

  I don’t like to be scared. It’s not my thing. So if, like, I’m scared of something, I conquer it.

  So snakes, right? I was scared of snakes. I never had a bad experience with them or anything—I was just terrified of them. It was so bad that if I saw a snake on TV, I’d have to change the channel immediately. It was starting to not only affect my life but my loved ones as well, especially if they wanted to watch something on the Discovery Channel.

  I’m being vulnerable. Don’t laugh.

  Like I was saying before, I can’t stand being scared of things, so I finally had enough and called up a serpentarium and asked if I could come for a visit. By the way, did you know that snakes can swallow up to 85 percent more than their body weight.

  It’s true. I can tell you don’t believe me. I’m going to look it up on my phone.

  [He takes out his phone.]

  I want you to know that it’s the only reason why I’m taking it out. I’m going to “yahoo” it.

  Okay.

  Okay. “Yahooing” it. Usually girls like that joke. You know, because most people “google.” Nevermind. Okay. It’s like 20 percent. Whatever. Still kinda ridiculous.

  [Still looking at his phone.]

  No way. Oh, nothing. It’s just my friend telling me something. Hold on. I don’t want to be rude by ignoring him.

  Sorry, what? No, I didn’t go to a zoo. I went to a serpentarium.

  I finally got up the balls to go and I had them put the snake on my shoulders.

  No. Not like Britney Spears. I’m a fucking man.

  I held the snake, all 220 pounds of him, like this . . . [He stands and holds his hands up like Britney Spears.] I stood there, sweating, crying, hyperventilating, for two hours till my body finally stopped shaking. It was super intense. So yeah, I conquered my fear. I still don’t like snakes but at
least I can watch them on TV now without changing the channel.

  More wine?

  To My Next Boss

  Kenny Madrid

  GEORGE, 26

  GEORGE was excited to enter the workforce after college, but quickly learned through various difficult and unfulfilling jobs, exactly why so many adults lose the spark of life. Some would call that spark happiness. The setting is in an office with no windows, not even frosted glass on the door. It is barren, cold, and a slightly blue tint to it as if David Fincher were directing. The fluorescent light flickers enough so that it’s noticeable, but not enough to worry about fixing it. No art decorating the walls, it looks more like a room where people are fired than hired.

  GEORGE I just wanted to thank you for bringing me in to interview to be your assistant. I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plate, but before I go I have a few questions. It’s common knowledge that the interviewee should bring in a list of questions to appear as if we are truly interested in this job, but my experiences in the workplace have given me a greater insight into exactly the kind of questions I should be asking. I have written out a lengthy list so forgive me, but I hear bosses appreciate assistants being thorough.

  Does your company match 401(k) contributions? Is my wage hourly, or will I be salaried? When does overtime kick in? After eight hours? Twelve hours? At all? Do you offer eye-care coverage in addition to the dental? I love to bake, so do you enjoy fresh-baked cookies? Do you pretend to have any major diet restrictions because of the latest trends you hear about in Hollywood, i.e., gluten-free, paleo diet, veganism, pescatarianism, etcetera? Have you or has anyone else ever called you a “foodie?” Is your favorite restaurant all of the way across town, but somehow it will be my fault when there is traffic on the way there and back? Does the office keep healthy snacks readily available so that once I have completely given up on ever exercising again after spending fourteen-hour days in the office, I won’t gain a ton of weight from Skittles, Snickers, and health bars that pretend to be good for you but in reality are just as awful as candy?

  When I inevitably screw something up, as all humans do from time to time, will you act as if I just murdered your first AND second-born children no matter the size or frequency of the mistake? Speaking of families, do you have one? Will they ever see you? Or are you single but married to your work? Will you forget that I have a life outside of work? Should I just cut ties with friends and family right now? They don’t matter, right? I’ll just kid myself and say this isn’t the way my career will always be? What kind of hobbies do you have that are really just veiled attempts at sounding like you have a life outside of work?

  Are you big into mentoring? Most people in our industry don’t want to be a career assistant; will you be interested in giving me tips on how you do your job so that one day I can use those tools myself? Will you take that interest from a paranoid standpoint, that I am trying to take your job from you despite your twenty years’ experience in the industry? Will you say that you do wish to mentor and then somehow over the course of many months be too busy to ever sit down with me for five minutes, your own assistant, who has dedicated a significant portion of my life to your well-being?

  Office decorating—off-limits, or completely frowned upon? I have a kooky sense of humor so forgive me if I put up some motivational posters, but ironically. Will you not approve of these posters but not want to say anything so I will just get the stink eye from you until I take them down of my own “free will?” What about office parties? Do people throw parties for birthdays in the office? Will I be able to attend these parties, or does one possible missed call take precedence over any fun I could take part in?

  How loud can you scream? Should I bring earplugs? Or just leave all emotions at home? How soon before I will hope to hit every red light on the way to work just to keep me out of the office even if for only minutes more?

  But I think most importantly, when do I start?

  Bumpy Firsts

  Mike McAleer

  ROBBIE, 30

  ROBBIE, 30, is an immature teenaged-boy stuck in an average man’s body. He has gone from menial job to menial job since high school, and he currently works at a CVS. Here ROBBIE finally gets the courage to make a move on his elementary school crush, his first-grade teacher, Miss O’Donnell, as she shops for herpes medication.

  ROBBIE Miss O’Donnell? It’s me! Robbie. Robbie Hamilton from your first-grade class back in 1988. Maybe if I take off my hat it will help you remember? But not for too long cuz the boss doesn’t like us out of uniform. I know, right? I mean the nametag I understand, but the hat? What other pharmacy do you know that makes their employees wear a hat? Sorry, a red hat with white gemstone lettering. As if anybody could mistake me working here with this infectious disease diagram T-shirt they make us wear. No? That’s okay, I guess I look pretty different now all grown up. No more braces, yay! Slightly no more hair, boo. Wow! It has been like twenty-six years since you’ve seen . . . we’ve seen each other. And you still don’t look a day over angel on earth. Double wow! I cannot believe I just said that to you. Holy shit, you sure can take the kid out of Miss O’Donnell’s Highland Park Elementary School first-grade class, but you can’t take the Miss O’Donnell out of . . . Nevermind. Hey listen, do you remember when you had all of us bring in gifts that Christmas to exchange with each other? And all the girls were getting hairbrushes and My Little Pony dolls, and the boys were getting mostly Micro Machines and baseball cards. And everything was pretty awesome for everybody, but if you remember, only one of your students actually thought about you that Christmas, and he bought you a small silver purse with gold buttons around the top. They were fake gold, of course, and the whole thing didn’t cost more than a dollar from the dollar store, but you treated him like he just gave you a Gucci bag or Prada or something. I was so relieved because I was super embarrassed to bring you such a cheap gift, but I really wanted to give you something nice, and I was seven, so my choices were limited. Not anymore though. I mean I get a super sweet discount here if there is anything you want. Just let me know. I would totally do that for you, Miss O’Donnell. You’ll have to give me the cash, though, so they don’t see me use a credit card without my name on it. The boss is really strict here. Anyway, the reason I brought up that Christmas present story is because I feel like you gave me so much back then, helping me grow into this awesome human being I am today, and I think it’s time I help you in return. So that bump I see there above your lip . . . it looks just like the one you had back when I gave you the Christmas present. You were so happy, and you gave me the biggest hug, and you said, “I want to give you the biggest kiss on the cheek right now, but I can’t because I have this little pimple here.” Oh man, I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it again. I really wanted that kiss, Miss O’Donnell! I mean if the offer still stands . . . But first, since I was seven at the time, and I didn’t know any better, I went on thinking for years that if you have a pimple on your face, you cannot give other people kisses, not even on the cheek. I mean this was okay to believe back in elementary school when I didn’t want to kiss any of the girls anyway, but when I hit high school, my face turned into the stuff dermatologists’ nightmares are made of, and since I thought I wasn’t allowed to kiss anybody for fear of what my crater face would do to them, I ended up alone for a very long time. “Get to the part where you want to help me,” is what you’re thinking, right? Right. Well, since I started working here at the end of last year, I learned to identify those types of bumps like the one above your lip today, like the one above your lip in ’88. They aren’t pimples! They’re cold sores, often brought on by stress, and all you need to do is get some . . . Oh, I see you already have some Abreva in your cart . . . somebody must have already told you. Did that guy tell you about it? That old guy, the one you’ve been coming in here with every other Thursday afternoon, unless it’s raining, in which case you two will come in on Friday instead and go to the back and
grab two sixteen-ounce fizzy drinks before going to the pickup desk and grabbing your prescriptions and leaving? Did he also tell you that sometimes fortune cookies are wrong, and even though they might say that today is your lucky day and you should go for it, and I take that to mean that I’m finally going to talk to my beautiful first-grade teacher who I’ve seen in here but she hasn’t seen me . . . nevermind. Okay, well it looks like you’re all set here then. I’m going to get back to work before the boss comes out. Bye, Miss O’Donnell.

  [ROBBIE says loudly to Miss O’Donnell while she is walking away:] Pimples go away, face herpes don’t!

  Boy King

  Chris Quintos

  REX, early 20s

  REX is talking with his friend.

  REX Here’s why I don’t think I’m stringing Beth along. She absolutely knows that I don’t want to get married right now. We talk about it all the time. Like all the time. Plus, Beth’s a big girl. And she gets that I think it’s a hack of a cultural convention. I mean, come on. We get married, have an outdated ceremony where we promise insane things to each other. She has an entourage of her “marryable friends” walk an entourage of my “marryable friends” down an aisle in an archaic procession in a white dress—that clearly symbolizes her virginity. I give her father five of my best camels that evening. Then what? On our wedding night, the king can have her first? [Laughs.]

  If she has a problem with it—she’ll bring it up. In fact, she has. And at the end of our conversations, she always sees what I’m saying. If not, she wouldn’t be with me anymore, you know. THIS is my thing. THIS is my deal breaker. I won’t do it. I’ve said that from the get-go. I’m not going to do something I don’t believe in a hundred percent. But, I’m here. I’m committed. I love her. Why don’t we just live in the moment. What we have is so great. Why change it? I love her so much, and she knows that.