Peter Pan

Peter Pan Audition Monologues 

Please prepare one of the following monologues for your audition. 

Peter (male/female):

Yes, Wendy, I know fairies! But, they’re nearly all dead now. You see, 

when the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into 

thousand of pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the 

beginning of fairies. So, there ought to be a fairy for every boy and girl. 

There isn’t of course. You see children know such a lot now that soon they 

don’t believe in fairies. Every time a child says “I don’t believe in fairies,” 

somewhere a fairy falls down dead. I can’t think she is gone. Tinkerbell, Tink, 

where are you? 

Peter (male/female): 

Who’s there? Is anyone there? What! (To Tink) The Indians were defeated and 

Wendy and the Boys have been captured by the Pirates? I’ll rescue her! I’ll rescue 

her! What? Oh, that’s just my medicine. Poisoned? Nonsense! Who could have 

poisoned it? I promised Wendy to take it and I’m going to, as soon as I’ve 

sharpened my dagger. Why, Tink, you’ve drunk my medicine! What’s the matter 

with you? It was poisoned! You drank it to save my life. Tink. Dear… Tink… your’re 

dying? Your light is growing faint, and if it goes out that means you’re dead. Your 

voice is so low I can scarcely hear what you’re saying. You say you think.. you think 

you could get well again if… if… if what Tink? If children believed in fairies. (To 

audience) Do you believe? Say quick that you believe. If you believe, clap your 

hands! 

Wendy (female): Boy, why are you crying? You say that you are not crying? Oh, 

yes you are. What is my name? Wendy, Moira, Angela, Darling. What’s yours? 

Peter Pan, is that all? Oh, it is. In that case, I’m so sorry. Where do you 

live? The second star to the right and straight ‘till what? What a funny 

address. I ah mean, is that what they put on your letters? Well if you 

don’t get letters, you mother must get… You don’t have a mother? Oh, 

Peter. 

Hook (male):

How still the night is. Nothing sounds alive. Now is the hour when the children in 

their homes are a-bed. Their lips bright- browned with the goodnight chocolate, and 

their tongues drowsily searching for belated crumbs housed insecurely on their 

shining cheeks. Compare with them the captive children on this boat. Split me 

infinitives, but ‘tis me hour of Triumph! Peter killed at last and all the boys are 

about to walk the plank. At last, I’ve reached me peak! All mortals envy me- no 

little children love me. I’m, told they play at Peter Pan, and that the strongest 

always chooses to be Peter. They force the baby to be Hook. THE BABY! 

Michael (male):

I won’t go to bed, I won’t, I won’t! Nana, it isn’t six o’clock yet. Two 

minutes more, please, one minute more? Nana, I won’t be bathed, I tell 

you I will not be bathed! I want to play house with Wendy and John. See, they’re pretending to be like mother and father. They need someone to 

play the child. Now John, have me. If you are not going to have me, then 

am I not to born at all? Please John, nobody wants me! 

John (male): 

Peter, you can really fly? Could you teach us to fly? Could you teach us 

to jump on the wind's back and away we’ll go!?! Instead of sleeping in 

our silly beds we might be flying about saying funny things to the stars! 

How do we do it? Think lovely thoughts? Think lovely thoughts! 

Fishing… picnics… sailing… PRESENTS!!! And away we 

goooooooooo!!!!!!!!! 

Lost Boy (male/female):

I saw Pirates! I saw Indians! Not only did I see Pirates, and Indians, but I 

saw a wonderfuller thing. High over the lagoon I saw the loveliest, great, 

white bird. It is flying this way. It looks weary and as it flies it moans, 

“Poor Wendy”. I think there are birds called Wendies. See, here it 

comes! Look how white it is. Hey, there’s Tinkerbell. Tink is trying to 

hurt the Wendy. She says Peter wants us to shoot the Wendy. Let us do 

what Peter wishes. Out of my way, Tink. I’ll shoot it. I’ve shot the 

Wendy! Peter will be so pleased! 

Freedom Writers (3)

Erin Gruwell: Does anyone know Homer's the Odyssey?

Andre: I know Homer the Simpson.

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Erin Gruwell: Maybe we should talk about art. Tito's got real talent, don't you think? You know something? I saw a picture just like this once, in a museum. Only it wasn't a black man, it was a jewish man. And instead of the big lips he had a really big nose, like a rat's nose. But he wasn't just one particular jewish man. This was a drawing of all jews. And these drawings were put in the newspapers by the most famous gang in history. You think you know all about gangs? You're amateurs. This gang will put you all to shame. And they started out poor and angry and everybody looked down on them. Until one man decided to give them some pride, an identity... and somebody to blame. You take over neighborhoods? That's nothing compared to them. They took over countries. You want to know how? They just wiped out everybody else. Yeah, they wiped out everybody they didn't like and everybody they blamed for their life being hard. And one of the ways they did it was by doing this: see, they print pictures like this in the newspapers, jewish people with big, long noses... blacks with big, fat lips. They'd also published scientific evidence that proved that jews and blacks were the lowest form of human species. Jews and blacks were more like animals. And because they were just like animals it didn't matter if they lived or died. In fact, life would be a whole lot better if they were all dead. That's how a holocaust happens. And that's what you all think of each other

[following Erin's impassioned speech about the Nazi Holocaust]

Tito: [raises hand] What's a holocaust?

Erin Gruwell: Who here knows what the Holocaust is?

[all keep their hands down except Ben, the only white kid, who sheepishly raises his]

Erin Gruwell: Who here has ever been shot at?

[all raise their hands except Ben, who lowers his]

Freedom Writers (pt.2)

Erin Gruwell: The evaluation assignment was to grade yourself on the work you're doing. You gave yourself an F. What's that about?

Andre: It's what I feel I deserve, that's all.

Erin Gruwell: Oh really?

[pause]

Erin Gruwell: You know what this is? This is a Fuck You to me and everyone in this class. I don't want excuses. I know what you're up against. We're all of us up against something. So you better make up your mind, because until you have the balls to look me straight in the eye and tell me this is all you deserve, I am not letting you fail. Even if that means coming to your house every night until you finish the work. I see who you are. Do you understand me? I can see you. And you are not failing.

Freedom Writers(pt. 1)

Eva: White people wanting respect like they deserve it for free.

Erin Gruwell: I'm a teacher, it doesn't matter what color I am.

Eva: It's all about color, it's about people deciding what you deserve, about people wanting what they don't deserve. About whites thinking they own this world no matter what, you see, I hate white people.

Erin Gruwell: You hate me? You don't even know me.

Eva: I know what you can do. I saw white cops shoot my friend in the back for reaching into his pocket, his pocket! I saw white cops come into my house and take my father away for no REASON except they feel like it! Except because they can! And they can, because they're white. So I HATE white people on sight!

End The Hurting

END THE HURTING

30 Second Monologue. A face appears in the darkness.  The face is sad and looks in pain.

ME

When you're hurting you look for weakness. 
You take that hurt and pass it on to me.  You're hurting... so you hurt
.  You're damaged... so you damage
.  You're feeling pain so you cause pain... in me
.

The light becomes brighter and the face transforms looking stronger and determined.

ME (CONT.)

It has to stop
.  I will protect myself from the pain
. I know the damage must be undone
.  I will end the hurting so I never hurt.  
And I must do it... for me.

Vicky

College-bound Vicky is an assistant-manager of a movie theater. Every geeky, dorky employee is attracted to her. Although she is amused by their attraction, she has yet to fall in love.

VICKY:
I’m the kind of girl who takes pity on poor pathetic geeks who have never kissed a girl. Let’s just say that I like someone who is easily trainable – someone who will truly appreciate me. It’s sad, I know. But hey, I’ll take an ego boost wherever I can get it. Unfortunately, these adorably nerdy boyfriends get boring after a while. I mean, I can only listen to their computer games and mathematic equations for so long. Of course, Stuart’s different in a lot ways. He’s terrible at math, for one. And he’s pretty clueless about technology. But he’s a comic book sort of geek. And a hopeless romantic. He’s pre-occupied with holding my hand. Everywhere we go, he wants to hold hands. Even when we’re driving. And he’s got this new pastime. He keeps saying “I love you.” It was so sweet and wonderful the first time he said it. I almost cried, and I’m not the kind of girl who cries easily. But by the end of the week, he must have said “I love you” about five hundred times. And then he starts adding pet names. “I love you, honey bunch.” “I love you sweet-heart.” “I love you my little smoochy-woochy-coochi-koo.” I don’t even know what that last one means. It’s like he’s speaking in some brand-new, love-infected language. Who would have thought romance could be so boring?

Beatrix

BEATRIX:

Hold it right there, Dante! I’ve watched you do this all your life, from kindergarten to the twelth grade. But it’s not going to happen tonight. Don’t look at me like that, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Remember first grade? The lunchroom. You’re walking around begging for a chocolate chip cookie. “Oh, I’m little Dante and I’m so sad. My mommy packed nothing but veggies. Oh I wish I had a cookie. Oh if only!” Here, Dante, I said kindly, here’s a chocolate chip cookie, and what did you say? "I’m not hungry." Flash forward. Third grade, playground. It’s the game of tag. You’re it. A hundred kids are running around and you can’t catch a single one. You’re desperate, you’re panting, you’re crying for someone to slow down so that you don’t have to be it anymore. So, feeling sorry for you, because I’m an idiot, I walk right up and say, “Here Dante, I’ll be it. You can tag me.” And you say? "I don’t want to tag you. That’s too easy." Whatever you can’t have, that’s what you want. That’s why you’ve said you were in love with Kay all these years. You knew, deep down that she would never return your affection. And that made things easy and safe. Every time she ignored you, that meant that you’d never have to feel anything real. You’d never have to know what it’s like to have someone who wants to be with you, which meant that you could always be alone. But is that what you want, Dante? Look at her. You’ve been chasing Kay like she was some sort of dream. Well… don’t you want it to come true? Wait, why are you looking at me like that?