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Wicked, Wicked Judgment Skit
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 11:49AM
Wicked, Wicked Judgment
(a judge sits contemplating evil in his chambers, checking his list of bribes, blackmail, murder, mayhem — with surprising mirth!)
WICKED JUDGE:
(going through book of protection money) Well let’s see, let’s see . . . the police are caught up with their, um, dues, so no pork chops this week. Who’s next? Ah the Church of the Very Deep Pockets. A week behind payment, hmmm? Oh Lucy? (silence) LUCY!
LUCY:
(off-stage) Yes, your Honor! (receptionist in antechamber)
WICKED JUDGE:
Get me that contemptible Pastor Parson on the line…
LUCY:
(off-stage) Yes, your Honor!
WICKED JUDGE:
And so we can close the Great Book of Protection. Now who owes me a few favors? I haven’t had any favors granted to me in oh so long.
LUCY:
(off-stage, bored out of her skull) Your Honor, you have a certain fan on Line 2.
WICKED JUDGE:
Ah. Is it the Pastor?
LUCY:
(off-stage) Haven’t been able to track down the good pastor, yet. No. Well, um, uh . . . this is the . . . widow . . . you remember? The Widow Job.
WICKED JUDGE:
What, AGAIN? Didn’t I put her off already this morning?
LUCY:
(off-stage, completely bored) Three times, your Honor.
WICKED JUDGE:
What is it with this woman? Bahhh! She must be on perpetual drugs. Hmmm. I know. Oh Lucy!
LUCY:
(off-stage) Yes, your Honor?
WICKED JUDGE:
Tell her you’re going to transfer her right in, and then hang up on her (laughs) . . . and then if you get another call from her — check the Caller ID — answer as the "Denver Dumb Friends League!" (laughs) And they say judges are stuffy! Oh ho! Don’t I love a good joke as much as the next guy!
LUCY:
(off-stage) Yes, your Honor.
WICKED JUDGE:
(practices golf swing) Let’s see, how about a campaign for cleaning up gambling in the city? That should be good. Beneficial. Oh, how I HATE messy gambling! Clean out them ashtrays! Daily dry-cleaning for all Blackjack Dealers! Keep gambling NEAT, is what I say! Neat and clean, neat and clean.
LUCY:
(off-stage) Pastor Parson on Line 1…
WICKED JUDGE:
Ahhh . . . my personal pet, the peevish pastor! (picks up Line 1) Yes, Pastor Parson. Let me get to the point. That special offering you were going to take up — what was it for — UUOLOS — Ugly Unlovable Orphans that Live on the Street. Yes. Well. My swimming pool contractor is asking for money, and I don’t seem to have any of your money in my pocket to pay him… (listens) Hmmm, well, you know, Pastor, this IS the dry part of the year — lots of fires in the city, and the fire department is VERY busy. (listens) Yes, I thought you’d see the light!
WIDOW JOB:
(hurrying in) Your Honor! I need to speak with you, for just a moment!
WICKED JUDGE:
(covering phone) What! How did you get in here! Lucy! LUCY! Get this woman out of here!
WIDOW JOB:
I think she’s in the restroom. But I just need to talk to you for a moment. Please, sir. It’s about my son. I talked to you about it yesterday. Could you please talk to me for a moment, Sir?
WICKED JUDGE:
Oh get out of here! (uncovers phone) NOT YOU, PASTOR! I expect to get a check from you tomorrow morning! GOOD BYE! (slams down phone, whirls on widow) And as for you, you better clear out or maybe you’ll be spending some time in jail!
WIDOW JOB:
Please Sir, no one else can help me. My son has been in prison for 6 months and he’s innocent!
WICKED JUDGE:
Oh, EVERYONE in prison is INNOCENT!
WIDOW JOB:
But my son IS innocent! I was there. He was helping that woman — those two men were punching her, one was hitting her with a stick! My son went to help her, but he didn’t know those two men were policemen!
WICKED JUDGE:
Oh, so he was interfering with justice, was he!
WIDOW JOB:
And then his court-appointed attorney never showed up on his court date! And you threw my son into prison! And he’s a single father of two little children, and I’m trying to take care of them, but I don’t have enough money, and those kids are starving! Please let my son out of prison, PLEASE!
WICKED JUDGE:
(sarcastically mimes playing an invisible violin) Oh, EVERYONE has a sob story! Your son is an ignoramus, and all such yokels DESERVE to rot in jail. It means nothing to me. Only, I can’t STAND seeing you everyday! Why do you keep coming here and barging in here like this! You call and call and call and those terrible, insipid letters you write! I’m starting to DREAM about those letters at night! The paper goes on and on and on, and all those misspelled words, the typos, that terrible red ink you use! What a nightmare!
WIDOW JOB:
Please Sir. You are a man of incredible power.
WICKED JUDGE:
(flattered, squaring shoulders, standing up straighter) Oh. Do you think so?
WIDOW JOB:
I came to the most powerful man in the city. Only you can save me! Only you can save my son! It’s all I can think about. So I write you, and call you, and visit you! I just lost my job today, so I can spend more time down here at the courtroom —
WICKED JUDGE:
(whirling on her) NO! I’ll see to it that you get your job back. Please, no more time down here at the court.
WIDOW JOB:
But my son, my SON!
WICKED JUDGE:
(puts hands over ears, shaking head, eyes closed) Oh, you tire me out! Just the thought of you tires me out! (opens eyes) Get out of here, you miserable woman. (in mincing voice) Oh my son my son my son my son my son...
WIDOW JOB:
I AM miserable. Please. Help me.
WICKED JUDGE:
Shut up! Get out!
WIDOW JOB:
(kneels before him) Please, your Honor. Save my son.
WICKED JUDGE:
(makes a face, turns his back on her, walks away) You make me sick. (pauses) How long has your miserable creature of a son been in prison?
WIDOW JOB:
Six months!
WICKED JUDGE:
(considering, staring out window) Well, I suppose the creep must have learned his lesson. See Lucy on the way out, give her all your information. Against my better judgment, your son can go…
WIDOW JOB:
(rushes to him, embraces him) Oh, THANK YOU, your Honor! Thank you!
WICKED JUDGE:
(horrified) Don’t touch me! Just clear out, and I never want to see your face AGAIN!
WIDOW JOB:
(hurrying out before he changes his mind) Yes, Thank You your Honor! Thank you!
WICKED JUDGE:
And don’t call anymore! And no more of those horrible, horrible nightmare letters! (to himself he says:) And now maybe I can start getting some sleep without having nightmares about those letters… Ahh, but what an injustice. Oh well, a few will slip through my fingers now and then…
LUCY:
(off-stage) Your Honor, your granddaughter is here — it’s your day to take her to McDonalds…
WICKED JUDGE:
Ahh, my sweetie! Send her right in!
GRANDDAUGHTER:
(skips in) Hi Grandpop! (rushes to him and hugs him)
WICKED JUDGE:
(delighted, transformed into a sweetly sweet old gentleman) Ahhh, there’s my sweet little girl. And how’s your little pony? (they begin to exit)
GRANDDAUGHTER:
Oh Grandpop! That was the bestest present you ever gave me in the world! I love my pony! After McDonalds, can we go to the toy store again?
WICKED JUDGE:
Hmmmm. Have you been a good girl?
GRANDDAUGHTER:
Yeah! Yeah!
WICKED JUDGE:
Well, I guess we could stop by Toys R Us on the way back…
GRANDDAUGHTER:
You’re the nicest man in the whole, whole, whole world!
WICKED JUDGE:
(exaggeratedly sighing) Well, yes, I suppose so...
(exit)
The Blind Spot Skit
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 11:47AM The Blind Spot
The Blind Spot
(husband and wife come walking up aisle, wife is a bit more excited than husband, but he is obviously GETTING AT SOMETHING, hopeful and a little disbelieving — wife is wearing bathrobe and a towel on hair)
HUSBAND:
Well this is definitely one of the most exciting things that have ever happened to you…
WIFE:
(so excited is a little sarcastic) ONE OF THE MOST exciting things?! You have GOT to be kidding! This is the chance of a lifetime! This miniseries on ABC is MY baby! I get to call all the shots!
HUSBAND:
(laughingly, a little hopefully) Well, our wedding was pretty exciting!
WIFE:
Don’t be ridiculous! They are two COMPLETELY DIFFERENT things. This is the dream of a lifetime, what I’ve been working for all my life! And it just drops into my lap like this! I mean, our wedding was beautiful, of course…
HUSBAND:
Of course…
WIFE:
(begins to apply make-up) I can’t believe it! Do you know that I get to call ALL the shots? I get to place everyone, from bestboys and gaffers to director and all the stars!
HUSBAND:
(skulking behind his wife, growing more and more upset) It’s . . . great. You’re really lucky. I’m . . . really . . . happy for you…
WIFE:
(so caught up in her own thing that she completely misses the growing animosity) I get to place the most famous people in the world! This is really a great chance God has given me — I mean, US. To tell the story of Peter and Paul for national television!
HUSBAND:
So who are you getting for Director?
WIFE:
Um, I can’t quite remember his name. But he’s that guy who directed that movie you love so much. Um. What movie was that? You know the one about the piano player that giggles like a little kid?
HUSBAND:
(amazed) Are you talking about AMADEUS?
WIFE:
THAT’s it!
HUSBAND:
YOU GOT MILOS FOREMAN TO DIRECT YOUR TV MOVIE?
WIFE:
Isn’t that great? Apparently he’s friends with the Smiths, owes them a favor. But we’re still paying a pretty penny for him…
HUSBAND:
I can’t believe you got Milos Foreman for your movie…
WIFE:
I’ll see if I can arrange for you to meet him…
HUSBAND:
(a little nastily) Well THANK YOU…
WIFE:
(missing all the sarcasm and the loaded feelings) You’re welcome! Isn’t this exciting? This is our big break?
HUSBAND:
Yeah. (mumbling to self) OUR big break. (loud to wife) What about your lead actor? The one who’s playing Peter?
WIFE:
Oh! Only the most HANDSOME man in all the world! That is, (glancing at her husband) IF he says "yes" to me…
HUSBAND:
(a little embarrassed, but tickled too) Oh. Really? And have you, asked him yet?
WIFE:
Well, I was just about to ask him, but I’m worried he’ll think this production is a little too silly for his great talent…
HUSBAND:
OH JUST GO AHEAD AND ASK HIM! OF COURSE HE’S GOING TO SAY YES!
WIFE:
You really think we have a chance of getting Tom Selleck?
HUSBAND:
TOM . . . SELLECK! (gets up and starts pacing, nervously putting hands through hair, cracking knuckles, pacing like a caged animal)
WIFE:
If he says yes, maybe I can get his autograph for you!
HUSBAND:
(really upset) Great. Just great. Thanks so much!
WIFE:
You’re welcome! It’s nothing, really.
HUSBAND:
(mumbled) I agree, I agree. (loudly to wife) Okay, let me ask you — what about the screenplay? Who did you get for the script — which, you know, is the most important part… (mumbled) My specialty.
WIFE:
You . . . are . . . going . . . to . . . be — SO — EXCITED.
HUSBAND:
(a rush of excitement) Really? (begins to smile)
WIFE:
I think this is really going to be your big chance?
HUSBAND:
(shining with smiles) It is? Really? Finally?
WIFE:
Yeah. I think your big break is here!
HUSBAND:
It is? Cuz you've been killing me, really killing me!
WIFE:
You are just going to love me!
HUSBAND:
(ready to explode with joy) I am! I am!
WIFE:
(slyly, loving the whole game) What, don’t you love me now?
HUSBAND:
(practically jumping) I do! I DO!
WIFE:
I got William Goldman to write the script!
HUSBAND:
(incredulous, upset) WILLIAM GOLDMAN!
WIFE:
I knew you’d be excited! I’ll get his autograph for you!
HUSBAND:
(about ready to blow) THANK YOU! NO REALLY, THANK YOU!
WIFE:
And if you’re good, maybe I can arrange for you to MEET him…
HUSBAND:
(speechless, pacing, faster, faster) But… But…
WIFE:
What, honey?
HUSBAND:
William Goldman, what does he have to do with the Bible? Sure, he’s a great writer, but what am I?
WIFE:
(concentrating on make-up, completely oblivious to the madness she's creating a few feet away from her in her own husband) Oh, you’re a pretty good writer…
HUSBAND:
I mean, your own husband is a writer, and you completely overlook me for the script! (strangling the air, seething, stomping, close to blowing a gasket, suffering a nervous breakdown)
WIFE:
Ah, but William Goldman has won two Academy Awards! OSCARS! I thought about giving you the chance to write it . . . but see, the unique angle we’re taking on this story, we need the very best scriptwriter in Hollywood. This is the most hush-hush project in Hollywood right now. Everyone on the set has to sign a disclaimer that they won’t speak to anyone!
HUSBAND:
(going very still) Why, what’s the big secret?
WIFE:
(just about finished getting ready) I guess I can tell my husband. See, with the new movement in Hollywood, we think we can draw the most viewers to this network movie if it’s controversial. So we’re playing the angle that the Apostle Paul and Peter were gay…
HUSBAND:
WHAT! What are you doing! You can’t be serious! You can’t do that to the Bible! There's absolutely no suggestion of that, no hint, it's just completely made-up, fabricated, a Biblical "Will and Grace..."
WIFE:
Exactly! Isn't that creative? I knew you'd love it. Because we have to be politically correct you know! But that’s why it’s such a big secret. If NBC or CBS or even FOX got word of it, they’d all try to beat us to the punch. (she removes her bathrobe and walks backward to husband) Here, zip me up!
HUSBAND:
(behind her, mimes choking her) I’d LOVE to zip you up… (zips her up)
WIFE:
Well, I’m off to the studio!
HUSBAND:
Just give me a second to put some things together. I guess I can read a book on the set, or something . . . (sarcastically) maybe start collecting autographs…
WIFE:
Oh, I’m sorry honey. Silly! No outsiders are allowed on the set! (she gives him a peck on the cheek, turns to rush from room) Don’t forget to do the laundry! And vacuum too, okay?
HUSBAND:
Yeah, I’ll just stay home and do the laundry. And vacuum, too. While you go off to the studios and play with Milos Foreman and William Goldman — and Tom Selleck… I can’t believe this! I can’t believe she got sucked into all this Hollywood stuff . . . and so easily. And now she’s corrupting the Bible! AND IGNORING ME! How DARE she do this to me! She doesn’t even care… (he picks up the cordless phone) Hi. I need to talk to an NBC exec…
(exits, seething)
None of Your Business Skit
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 11:46AM
None of Your Business
(SPECTATOR#1 seated in chair facing audience, eating popcorn from a theater bag, laughing, slapping leg, watching something hilarious -- this should go on for about 60 seconds or a little more, with her being intent, listening, leaning forward, then bursting into idiotic laughter, slapping her knees, then back to listening intently, gobbling popcorn -- she needs to give the impression that she's at the theater watching a great funny movie, and can't help herself from laughing even though she is heroically attempting to stifle her giggles)
SPECTATOR #1:
Oh this is the best one yet! Oh, I need this, I need this!
SPECTATOR #2:
(arriving, starting off in whisper, helps himself to popcorn) Hey! Have I missed anything?
SPECTATOR #1:
Oh it’s great!
SPECTATOR #2:
But what about my money? Huh? Have I won yet?
SPECTATOR #1:
(a little miffed) Oh just sit down and enjoy the show. Do you have to wreck everything?
SPECTATOR #2:
Come on! Come on! Just tell me what I’ve missed!
SPECTATOR #1:
Oh all right, already! He’s quoted from the Rocky Mountain News two times, from the Denver Post at least three times, and from Time and Newsweek…
SPECTATOR #2:
Hah! You owe me, baby, now cough up the BUCKS!
SPECTATOR #1:
Oh alright, I don’t suppose he’s going to pull a quote out of the Bible with five minutes to go in the sermon. Here! (throws money at SPECTATOR #2)
SPECTATOR #2:
(munching popcorn) Ooh-HOOO! I love church. I could get rich in this joint! So anything else exciting? Has Elder Crumpkins fallen asleep yet?
SPECTATOR #1:
Oh yeah. He even started snoring. But that’s the repeat. Look at what’s MORE interesting… (pointing)
SPECTATOR #2:
What? I can’t see what you’re talking about.
SPECTATOR #1:
Over THERE! Bob Slobkins.
SPECTATOR #2:
Man! I see what ya mean! That’s SOME RUG. He must of traded in the Cadillac for that roadkill.
SPECTATOR #1:
(looking to a new location) OH NOW THAT IS REALLY DISGUSTING!
SPECTATOR #2:
What? What now? What are you looking at?
SPECTATOR #1:
Look at HER! That disgusting Louisa AGAIN. Look how SHORT that skirt is!
SPECTATOR #2:
(eyes bugging out) Whoa. (pause, staring) Whew. (pause, staring) Wow. (pause) WOW.
SPECTATOR #1:
(snarling at SPECTATOR #2, smacks him on the forehead) Put your eyes back in your head!
SPECTATOR #2:
WHAT! Hey! No -- no! I was just, you know -- hey, I was looking at her JUDGMENTALLY! Yeah! I mean, I was just thinking about how HOT hell is going to be for someone like her…
SPECTATOR #1:
Yeah, I BET that’s what you were thinking!
SPECTATOR #2:
(sees opportunity to divert her attention) OH LOOK AT THAT. Mrs. Mulligan.
SPECTATOR #1:
Yeah, so what about her?
SPECTATOR #2:
Hey, if she’s in HERE, in the Sanctuary, who do you think is watching the potluck goodies downstairs…?
SPECTATOR #1:
(lightbulb popping off in head) Oh, hey…
SPECTATOR #2:
So . . . you like, HUNGRY?
SPECTATOR #1:
Don’t ya just LOVE church?
SPECTATOR #2:
Hey, I look forward to this fun ALL week long…!
(they get up and begin to tiptoe out, giggling)
All in the Family
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 11:44AM
All in the Family
(MIME: a little girl with pigtails and a picnic basket in her hands coming skipping along the path, all done in mime -- actor takes cues from Narrator; everything she sees and interacts with is imaginary; to be read with glowing wonder, like a story read at bedtime to a toddler)
NARRATOR:
Once up a time a little girl who loved a lot went out into the world to see all the people she loved, and to invite everyone to be her brothers and sisters. She wanted everyone to love her. She loved everybody, and if she got half a chance, she'd just hug ANYBODY -- she liked to give great big BEAR HUGS!
(little girl stops, facing audience and lifting her face to heaven, she wraps her arms about herself and gives herself a BEAR HUG, smiling brightly, swinging her body back and forth)
She was a special little girl. She saw the good in everything. Whether it was a beautiful flower made from the Hand of God . . . Ah! What a beautiful aroma! Such a perfect and melodious scent!
(little girl lifts a beautiful flower to her nose and sniffs -- ah! what a beautiful aroma! She nearly faints with pleasure)
...or a fragile and tiny sparrow . . . sweet little thing! To think that God watches these little creatures and watches over them!
(little girl lifts her finger and whistles for a bird which lands and perches upon her finger -- she strokes its tiny feathers and murmurs softly and lovingly to the little creature)
She loved nature -- she loved everyone -- and everything. The little girl was, in fact, the incarnation of LOVE.
She skipped through the entire world, loving everyone, and inviting them to love her. Be my Friends, she said! Be my Brother! Be my Sister!
(little girl skips through world, whistling and smiling and swinging her picnic basket)
A few of the people she met were delighted to meet her! "Howdy Doo!" they cried, returning her humungous hugs. They matched her shining smile with bright shining smiles of their own! She was so happy she gave them gifts from her basket.
(little girl meets and hugs several people, spinning them about, SMILING at them, shining love, love, LOVE -- she gives them gifts from her basket)
"Can I play with your dolly?" the Little Girl would ask them, because she loved to share.
(shyly, she asks to play with their toy -- and is delighted when they do! she accepts the toy and hugs it to her chest, laughing and playing -- she dances about the room with the doll)
Oh how happy it made the Little Girl when people were kind enough to share! Because the Little Girl knew that it was better to GIVE things, than to RECEIVE them -- she wanted her new friends to be just as happy as they could ever, ever, ever, EVER be! She wanted them to play nicely with each other, and to take care of each other, and really, to be in one big happy family!
(little girl talks to a succession of people, smiling at them, hugging them, giving them gifts from her basket)
Sure we will be your friend, they said, all smiling and happy, and soon enough, as they grew to know her, they realized they were more than her friend -- they LOVED her, just like she loved them! Wowee, did it feel wonderful to share in such love. Sharing was a very, very, VERY good thing, the people learned, and the more they shared, the more they loved, and the more they loved the better they all got along! What a smart, smart, SMART little girl she proved to be!
(little girl smiles and knowingly taps her head)
Then there were other people in the world. On her journey, skipping through the world, the little girl met people who were not quite so happy to meet her. They greeted her -- some of them did, it's true -- but for the most part, they just really couldn't care about the little girl, or if she was happy, or if they learned any lessons about sharing that the little girl might teach. Most of these people wouldn't even give the little girl a hug.
(little girl meets new people, but these won't hug her, even though she tries)
"Can I play with your dolly?" the little girl asked shyly. Please, she though, please oh please share with me. Please oh please give me a chance to love, and be loved by you!
(the little girl shyly asks to play with their dollies -- but the people shake their heads NO and walk away -- the little girl sadly watches them go)
NO, the people said. This is OUR dolly. You must go and get your own dolly. And they walked away from her, making her so very sad. Or they told her to STOP PLAYING WITH DOLLIES! To GROW UP! To GET A JOB, or GET WITH THE PROGRAM, or GET A LIFE! Wake up to the REAL WORLD, little girl, they scolded her. For the most part, they weren't really bad people, no not at all. But they just seemed to not really care what the little girl thought or felt, or that she had love to give them -- many of the people were just too, too busy, they just did not have the time for little girls and dolls and hugging -- and they CERTAINLY did not have any use for the trinkets from the little girl's basket
(the little girl attempts to woo person after person, reaching her little hands for dolly after dolly, offering gift after gift from her basket -- to only watch person after person walk away from her, she sadly watches them go with her sad, sad eyes)
BUT THERE WERE OTHER PEOPLE IN THE WORLD AS WELL.
(little girl stops, she startles as if terrified or terribly frightened -- she slowly turns her head and slowly lifts her arms to hug)
They did not like the little girl. They did not want her basket or anything in it. They snarled at her when she tried to hug them. They snarled at her when she asked to play with their dollies.
(little girl's terror builds and she slowly begins to back away from the unruly mob of people)
The people pushed in toward the little girl. The closer they got to her, the angrier they got. Don't you want to play with me? she asked them. Don't you want to hug me? she said.
ONE OF THE MAD PEOPLE HIT THE LITTLE GIRL.
(she is struck in the nose, and it rocks her head back, makes her stagger away -- she is shocked, no one has ever hit her before, no one has ever been mean to her before, and now she lifts her hand to her nose, and it comes away with BLOOD!)
The little girl had never been hit before. She only knew nice people. She had hoped that all people were nice. That all people shared, and hugged, and smiled.
But one of the mad people hit the little girl. Now there was blood coming from her nose.
Then one of the mad, bad people took her basket away. Another struck her again, and again. She ran from the mad, bad mob of people. But they didn't want to let her get away. They caught her. They hit her. One of the mad-bad people grabbed one of her arms and twisted it. And another mad-bad person twisted her other arm.
(little girl is hit, again, and again -- her head rocks with the blows -- and then she tries to run away, but they catch her, and one of the people grabs her arm, and she lifts it up like one arm of the cross, and another person grabs her other arm, and she lifts it up like the other arm of the cross)
They were very mean, these mad-bad people. Very mean to a little girl who only wanted to hug. Only wanted to . . . share . . . to . . . love . . . and be loved.
(the little girl, in terrible pain, lowers her head, lower, lower, until it drops and lays limply against her chest and her arms sag but are still forced upright and out like a cross but now her hands hang limply, as she hangs upon the cross, dead)
She is gone now, this little girl, gone from the world. For a very long time her face has appeared on milk cartons with the slogan: HAVE YOU SEEN ME?
What about YOU? Have you seen the little girl?
Are you the kind of person who would hug the little girl, and learn from her? Would you share your dolly with her, and with the other little children you know?
What about YOU? Have you seen the little girl?
Are you the kind of person too busy for the little girl? Are there more important things in your life than silly dollies and hugs and sharing and childish things?
What about YOU? Have you seen the little girl?
Are you the kind of person who snarls at a little child, angry by their stupidity, their trusting eyes and smiling lips?
What about YOU? Have you seen the little girl? And would you know her, if she returned today, and was not just a picture on a milk carton, but was a real, live, true human being that you could hug and kiss and hold close to your heart?
Would you be a part of her family? Her mother, or father, or brother, or sister? Have you seen the little girl?
Christian Skits, Dramas and Plays
Tuesday, March 31, 2009 at 11:41AM
Hello we have just added a lot of new skits, plays and christian dramas all in English.. Enjoy
