Dead Parrot Skit

This Skit is meant for Scouts BSA.
Decide for yourself if it is appropriate for your younger scouts or not.

rubber chicken or something that you can pretend is a dead bird

This is a classic Monty Python skit. It takes quite a bit of practice to get all the lines down. The full skit continues on, but requires scene changes.

Praline: Hello, I wish to register a complaint . . . Hello? Miss?
Shopkeeper: What do you mean, miss?
Praline: Oh, I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint.
Shopkeeper: Sorry, we're closing for lunch.
Praline: Never mind that my lad, I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Shopkeeper: Oh yes, the Norwegian Blue. What's wrong with it?
Praline: I'll tell you what's wrong with it. It's dead, that's what's wrong with it.
Shopkeeper: No, no it's resting, look!
Praline: Look my lad, I know a dead parrot when I see one and I'm looking at one right now.
Shopkeeper: No, no sir, it's not dead. It's resting.
Praline: Resting?
Shopkeeper: Yeah, remarkable bird the Norwegian Blue, beautiful plumage, isn't it?
Praline: The plumage don't enter into it : it's stone dead.
Shopkeeper: No, no : it's just resting.
Praline: All right then, if it's resting I'll wake it up. (shouts into cage) Hello Polly! I've got a nice cuttlefish for you when you wake up, Polly Parrot!
Shopkeeper: (jogging cage) There it moved.
Praline: No he didn't. That was you pushing the cage.
Shopkeeper: I did not.
Praline: Yes, you did. (takes parrot out of cage, shouts) Hello Polly, Polly (bangs it against counter) Polly Parrot, wake up. Polly. (throws it in the air and lets it fall to the floor) Now that's what I call a dead parrot.
Shopkeeper: No, no it's stunned.
Praline: Look my lad, I've had just about enough of this. That parrot is definitely deceased. And when I bought it not half an hour ago, you assured me that its lack of movement was due to it being tired and shagged out after a long squawk.
Shopkeeper: It's probably pining for the fjords.
Praline: Pining for the fjords, what kind of talk is that? Look, why did it fall flat on its back the moment I got it home?
Shopkeeper: The Norwegian Blue prefers sleeping on its back. Beautiful bird, lovely plumage.
Praline: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot, and I discovered that the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been nailed there.
Shopkeeper: Well of course it was nailed there. Otherwise it would muscle up to those bars and voom!
Praline: Look matey (picks up parrot) this parrot wouldn't voom if I put four thousand volts through it. It's bleeding demised.
Shopkeeper: It's not, it's pining.
Praline: It's not pining, it's passed on. This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot.
Shopkeeper: Well, I'd better replace it then.
Praline: (to camera) If you want to get anything done in this country you've got to complain till you're blue in the mouth.
Shopkeeper: Sorry guv, we're right out of parrots.
Praline: I see. I see. I get the picture.
Shopkeeper: I've got a slug.
Praline: Does it talk?
Shopkeeper: Not really, no.
Praline: Well, it's scarcely a replacement, then is it?
Shopkeeper: Listen, I'll tell you what, (handing over a card) tell you what, if you go to my brother's pet shop in Bolton he'll replace your parrot for you.
Praline: Bolton eh?
Shopkeeper: Yeah.
Praline: All right, then. He leaves, holding the parrot.