A Baker’s Dozen

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A BAKER’S DOZEN

 

 

 

CHARACTERS:

BAKER

OLD WOMAN

MAN

WOMAN

 

 

SCRIPT:

 

 

SCENE I

 

 

(The Baker closes the bakery door, and places a closed sign.  The Old Woman dressed in a long black shawl knocks.  The Baker looks through the door window)

 

 

BAKER: I’m close, come back tomorrow.

 

 

OLD WOMAN: I need a dozen of St. Nicks cookies.  It will only take a minute, sir.

 

 

(The Baker opens the door)

 

 

BAKER: COME IN.

 

 

OLD WOMAN: Oh, thank you.

 

 

(The Baker takes a bag of cookies and gives it to the Old Woman.  She pays the baker, then she opens the bag, looks inside and counts the cookies)

 

 

BAKER: Is there something wrong?

 

 

OLD WOMAN: Well, yes.  I asked for a dozen of cookies and you gave me twelve.

 

 

BAKER: Ha, ha, ha, yes, twelve is a dozen.

 

 

OLD WOMAN: No, one more and that’s a dozen.

 

 

BAKER: I will not give you thirteen. If you want a dozen.  You will get only twelve cookies.  You will get what you pay for.

 

 

OLD WOMAN: You’re a mean person!.  Have a nice day, and learn how to count.  Oh, and when you do, I’ll come back.

 

 

(The Old Woman leaves.  The Baker closes the door and places the closed sign)

 

 

BAKER: Good-bye, grandma!.

 

 

SCENE II

 

 

(The Baker is at the bakery talking to a male customer.  The Man has a pie in his hand)

 

 

MAN: This is the most terrible pie I have tasted in my whole life!.  I want my money back!.

 

 

BAKER: Sir, you know I can’t do that.

 

 

MAN: This apple pie is too sweet!.  Give me my money, or give me another pie.

 

 

BAKER: I already told you.  I can’t!

 

 

MAN: Fine!.  I will never come to your bakery again.

 

 

(The Man puts the pie on the counter, and leaves.  An angry Woman enters)

 

 

WOMAN: This morning I bought these cookies, and they are all burnt!.

 

 

BAKER: Give me one.

 

 

(The Woman gives him a cookie.  The Baker bites the cookie)

 

 

BAKER: Mmmm , it’s so good!.

 

 

WOMAN: That is not true, and you know it!.

 

 

BAKER: If you expect me to give you your money back, you’re wrong lady.  Business is business!.

 

 

WOMAN: Oh, you’re such a jerk, I’ll tell all my friends not to come to your bakery!.

 

 

(The Woman leaves. The Baker closes the door)

 

 

BAKER: Bah!.  Customers come and go, just like money does!.

 

 

SCENE III

 

 

(The Baker walks through the bakery looking at the empty shelves)

 

 

BAKER: My business is not going well.  This place is completely empty. I haven’t baked anything. what for?.  If I don’t have customers. Maybe it was that old woman who put a curse on me!.

 

 

(He sits on a chair behind the counter. He sees over the counter, two bags of St. Nicks cookies.  He takes in his hand one of the bags and takes out a cookie)

 

 

BAKER: St. Nicholas , I need your help.

 

 

(St. Nicholas enters the bakery. The Baker stands up )

 

 

BAKER: What can I do for you?.  I have no bread.

 

 

ST. NICHOLAS: Don’t you recognize me?.

 

 

BAKER: Oh, It’s you!.

 

 

ST. NICHOLAS:  All she wanted was one more cookie.  Why was it so hard for you to be generous, especially on this time of the year.  Why?.

 

 

BAKER: I’m sorry, St. Nicholas.  I have changed, you have to believe me.

 

 

ST. NICHOLAS: I believe in you.   Now you have the opportunity to make it all right again.  Happy holidays!.

 

 

(St. Nicholas leaves. The Old Woman dressed in a long black shawl enters.  The Baker looks surprised)

 

 

OLD WOMAN: I would like a dozen of your Saint Nicholas cookies, please.

 

 

(The Baker looks surprised.  He gives the Old Woman a bag of the cookies, and puts one more cookie inside the bag)

 

 

BAKER: In my bakery, from now on, a dozen is thirteen.

 

 

OLD WOMAN: Oh, I see that you have learned to count well.  You will surely be rewarded.

 

 

(The Old Woman pays for the cookies and leaves)

 

 

BAKER: You were always right.  I wish you a very happy holidays!.

 

 

OLD WOMAN:  Well thank you.  You too!.

 

 

THE END

 

 

Author:  Dutch Folktale

 

 

Adapted by: K I D S I N C O

 

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