Man In Chair - Drowsy Chaperone - Bob Martin/Don McKellar

In pornography the story is simplistic -- how do I pay for this pizza, I'll do anything to pass this drivers test, the pilot and co-pilot get bored on a transatlantic flight so the navigator suggests a game of twister -- I don't know, I'm just making this up. My point is, you don't watch pornography for the story. As in a musical, the story exists only to connect the longer, more engaging... production numbers. Anyway, what we really find exciting about musicals is watching talented performers giving their all for our pleasure. Well, that's like pornography too, isn't it? It's just an analogy, not a confession.

Man - Laughing Wild - Christopher Durang

I was in the supermarket the other day about to buy some tuna fish when I sensed this very disturbed presence right behind me. There was something about her focus that made it very clear to me that she was a disturbed person. So I thought--well, you should never look at a crazy person directly, so I thought, I'll just keep looking at these tuna fish cans, pretending to be engrossed in whether they're in oil or in water, and the person will then go away. But instead WHAM! she brings her fist down on my head and screams, "Would you move, asshole!"

Now why did she do that? She hadn't even said, "Would you please move" at some initial point, so I would've known what her problem was. Admittedly I don't always tell people what I want either--like the people in the movie theaters who keep talking, you know, I just give up and resent them--but on the other hand I don't take my fist and go wham! on their heads!

I mean, analyzing it, looking at it in a really positive light, this woman probably had some really horrible life story that, you know, kind of explained how she got to this point in time, hitting me in the supermarket. And perhaps if her life--SINCE BIRTH--had been explained to me, I could probably have made some sense out of her action and how she got there. But even with that knowledge--which I didn't have--it was MY head she was hitting, and it's just so unfair.

Mark - Second Class - Bradley Slaight

Eleven o'clock in the morning. A cold sweat came over me as I looked down at my SAT exam. All around me were hundreds of other nervous souls, completely at the mercy of this test. Like penguins stuck in a floating chunk of ice! The Test Monitors stood at the front of the room, with their roving surveillance-camera eyes, waiting to jump on anyone who happened to stretch their neck, or blink too many times. We couldn't move. We couldn't talk. We couldn't think. We could only hold these emotions inside. And then it started to happen. You see, I always get terrible gas when I'm nervous. And I was nervous plus over this test. Inside me was a gas-bubble the size of a beach ball, desperately trying to get out. Knocking with a heavy determined first at my back door. Oh, I tried to suppress it, but it started to expand--the pressure was unbelievable. It got to the point where I didn't even dare shift my leg in fear that the corral gate would fly open. And the quiet, God was it quiet! Nothing to cover the impending sound; nothing that would allow me to let out some of the pressure. Then, without warning, the bubble pushed forward and exploded from me with an ear-splitting thundergust! A force so great it lifted me off my desk chair! That was followed by the sound of 312 snapping necks as they turned around to look at the source of this deafening blast. The Test Monitors' eyes dilated in angry disbelief. My fellow students' faces twisted like cheap Halloween masks, as they tried to contain their laughter. That was the final straw. "Who are you to judge me!?" I screamed out loud. (Pause.) What happened to me that day quickly became legend. Go ahead and tell all you meet. I am not ashamed.

Seven - Moontel Six - Constance Congdon

I'm going to help you understand how this happens. You see... when you lose one sock, it leaves behind its mate. Or partner. Let's call it "partner." So you wear the next pair and you lose one of those. Because it's actually more likely that you'll lose one of a matched pair than one of an unmatched pair because most people are less likely to wear and then wash the unmatched sock, unless they are us who have stopped washing them altogether, so the odds are even greater that the next sock to get lost will be part of a pair. Are you with me? It's important. Important to understand how the world works... Let's say you have ten complete, but distinct pairs of socks, meaning each pair differs from another, then it will be over 100 times more likely that the result will be the worst possible outcome. The Best Possible Outcome would be seven complete pairs left. Drawing two socks at random from a drawer full of complete pairs is most likely to produce nothing but two odd socks. And, here's the interesting part--if you draw two socks at random from a drawer full of complete pairs of socks you are going to, probably, get two odd socks. Facts make up the world, so probability is a religious experience. For me... you know what's really strange? The odds of two lost socks finding each other is astronomical, but to make pairs from a random collection of odd lost socks, well, that's unheard of. That's all I'm trying to say.