This monologue depends upon the actor using a ‘cockney’ accent, but the script helps by being written to indicate how. This is a humorous story of a flea who explains how he takes trips on a dog’s back.
THE COCKNEY FLEA
By Michele Lourie
I wish I could explain to h’everybody what sort of a life I lead.
It’s no great shakes. Well it is, in a way. Every time a dog I’m living on shakes h’itself – and they do it h’often – like h’after they’ve ‘ad a bath, or been for a swim at the beach, or been caught in the rain – they shake so that a poor flea’s brain becomes like a baby’s rattle.
My last host dog was an h’inveterate shaker. At ‘is master’s call, ‘is whole body would do a sort of wild dance – like this.
(demonstrates)
I ‘ad to move off ‘im and on to h’another host after just one week. If h’id ‘ad teeth instead of fascicles, I would ‘ave lost all of them.
Then, there’s the powder. Why h’it is called flea powder when there wouldn’t be a flea in the dog world who would h’ever use it. It comes down like snow h’on Mt. Everest, and I ‘ave to jump like a gymnast to get h’inside my host’s ear so as to h’avoid it.
You’re not always safe in the ear , h’either, believe you me. A dog’s paw can pack a mighty punch as ‘e tries to dislodge you.
Oh no, a flea’s life isn’t all blood sucking and breaking ‘igh-jump records. It can be downright dangerous.
Oops, I ‘ave to go.
I ‘ave to ‘itch-‘ike from this dog to the next.
