Overview
- Female: 1
- Male: 2
Context
Prancer has applied for the job of chief cookie supervisor but it is clear she cannot physically do the job. In reality, she has applied because she is sick and tired of being stuck behind Blitzen's smelly backside. Prancer has a crush on Cupid and is ecstatic when Santa suggests that she can be moved next to him.
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PRANCER: And I've put in a lot of hours pulling your sleigh across the sky, landing on billions of rooftops and all that stuff. So now, I figure I am ready for a change.
GIMBLE: And you want to work in the Christmas Cookie factory?
PRANCER: Yes.
GIMBLE: Making delicate intricately designed cookies with your hooves.
PRANCER: Yes.
GIMBLE: You think your hooves can roll dough and add gumdrop buttons?
PRANCER: Sure! It'll be a snap. (She tries to snap, but she can't.)
GIMBLE: But you don't have fingers.
PRANCER: (Annoyed, raising her hoof.) No, Gimble, I don't have fingers, but if I did, imagine what I would be doing with one of them right now.
SANTA: Prancer -- you are a brilliant reindeer, one of the best I've ever had. Why in the name of Kris Kringle would you want to transfer? Am I not feeding you enough carrots?
PRANCER: The carrots are wonderful.
SANTA: Oh dear, you don't have an egg nog problem do you? Because we can get you help at Egg Nog's Anonymous.
PRANCER: No, Dasher is the one with the Egg Nog problem.
SANTA: Then why don't you want to fly on my sleigh?
PRANCER: Santa, it's not you. You're terrific. You're the jolliest boss a reindeer could hope for. But... But...
SANTA: But what?
PRANCER: That's exactly the problem. Blitzen's Butt. I've been flying behind that reindeer for centuries and I can't take it anymore. And until that deer changes his diet, I am not going back on that sleigh.
SANTA: I see. I'll tell you what, how about we rearrange the order. I'll put you next to... hmmm... Let me see. Which one is that handsome buck that I know you secretly like.
PRANCER: Santa! I think of my fellow reindeer on a purely professional level.
SANTA: Let's see, was it Dasher? Dancer? Comet? Cupid?
PRANCER: Oh, Cupid, please put me next to Cupid!
SANTA: Next to Cupid it is!
PRANCER: Thank you so much, Santa! Wait till I tell Vixen. She's going to be so jealous.
Prancer exits.
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