Rhubarb Mountain

Announcer: Tonight on Rhubarb Mountain, Ma Rhube's faith is shaken by the heretical idealism of her scholarly son. (A 1930's kitchen. While snacking on a leafy stick of rhubarb, Ron Junior helps Ma Rhube with a chore.) Ron Jr: I'm telling you, ma, that's what it's going to be like. We won't have families anymore because we'll all be hatched in government nurseries. Ma Rhube: No families? Land sakes, what'll become of the church? Ron Jr: Instead of believing in Christ, we'll worship Henry Ford, the inventor the assembly line. Ma Rhube: I don't like you reading books that contradict the Bible, young man. And take that thing out of your mouth! Ron Jr: Aw, ma, why can't you be more like pa? He's atheist. Ma Rhube: He is not. He just prefers to keep his Sunday prayers to himself down at the bingo hall. Announcer: How does a God fearing mother protect her child from eternal damnation? (A parlour. Ma Rhube knits a sweater on the rocker. Enter Pa Rhube.) Pa Rhube: We got a letter from Ron Junior in New York. Ma Rhube: God be praised! Read it out loud. Pa Rhube: All right. (He puts on his glasses and opens the letter.) Dear Ma and Pa. I am well and I hope you are not worried. You don't need to go out looking for friends here because they come right on up, knocking on your door and introducing themselves. That's how I met Eunice and Claire. They're really nice people. You'd like them. And they know so much about the Bible, like how Jesus was an alien hermaphrodite and his virgin birth was accomplished through artificial insemination. I want to be in good standing with the holy aliens so I've joined their church. I'll be leaving soon for missionary work in Guyana, but I'll send you a post card if they let me. Love, Ron Junior. (End of letter.) I see. Well, I guess he's old enough to make his own decisions. (Looking up) Ellie! Ma Rhube: (still knitting, unaware her hair has fallen out) What is it, Ron? Announcer: Don't miss Ellie's new look as secularism descends on Rhubarb Mountain tonight.
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© 2007, 2016. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.