BEWARE OF LONG TONGUES!
A wicked, suddenly-chilling, and finally-ticklish theatrical tale in three scenes for brave kids
BEWARE OF LONG TONGUES! A theatrical tale. © 2026 by BENJAMIN GAVARRE is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
author: Benjamin Gavarre
bengavarre@gmail.com
CHARACTERS
- BELA: A clever, brave ten-year-old red-haired girl with pigtails. Wears a navy blue cape adorned with moons and stars, brand-new shiny shoes, and carries a basket with a giant jar of golden honey.
- TOM: Bela's best friend. Big-hearted but hilariously absent-minded: wears a pasta colander on his head as a knight's helmet, holds his pet turtle Puchis upside down, and mistakes wolves for living-room armchairs.
- QUEEN TACKY (La Reina Furris): A wicked, vain, and loud queen. Wears a crooked tin crown and carries a hand mirror she forces to flatter her under threat of smashing it.
- WITCH WARTY (La Bruja Verruga): A hunched-over witch with a hooked nose and a screeching skillet laugh ("Hee-hee-splat!"). Wears a giant wooden ladle at her belt, rides a battered broom, and hoards rotten socks for her soups.
- THE SPICY WOLF (El Lobo Enchilado): A shaggy, greedy wolf obsessed with fiery food. Wears a bib showing a piglet soaked in red-hot Mexican Valentina salsa. Whenever he tastes or even imagines spicy peppers, he gets an uncontrollable case of the hiccups.
- LITTLE CALF (Becerrito) & MISS TICKLES (Miss Cosquillas): Farm animals (actors in costume or full-body puppets). Little Calf has an extraordinarily long, rough pink tongue; Miss Tickles is a sheep with a woolly beard that triggers unstoppable fits of giggles.
SCENE ONE: THE VILLAINS' CLUB AND THE UPSIDE-DOWN MAP
(A clearing in the Woods of Sudden Shivers. Stage right: a hollow tree with a wooden arrow pointing "WAY TO THE WINDMILL". Center stage: a wide, low, dried-up Stone Well with a sign: "DRY WELL. FALLING INSIDE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN". A cartoonish clap of thunder rumbles. Queen Tacky, Witch Warty, and The Spicy Wolf tip-toe in, bump backs in the middle, and jump into the air with a start).
QUEEN TACKY: (Dusting off her cape in disgust). Get out of my royal way, you flea-bitten furball! And you, warty old crone, stop pointing that crooked beak at me—you'll ruin my royal coiffure!
WITCH WARTY: (Laughing like a rusty frying pan). Show some respect, you stuck-up tin-can queen! If it weren't for my toad-slime curses, this forest would be a disgusting paradise full of singing children and yellow butterflies! Ugh, happy children make me sick to my stomach!
THE SPICY WOLF: (Rubbing his belly and smacking his chops). Happy children don't make me sick; they make me hungry! Especially around lunchtime! Today I'm craving a tender, oven-baked little girl... with a side of drooling schoolboy!
QUEEN TACKY: (Gazing into her hand mirror). Mirror, mirror, tell me quick before I hurl you into the well: who is the wickedest, gorgeous-est, most terrifying ruler in this forest? (Faking a squeaky voice for the mirror): "You are, my Queen... but skipped down the trail comes little Bela, who has a smile brighter than your crown and a pair of shiny new shoes." (Furious, in her normal voice): What do you mean, shiny new shoes?! Mine are fifteen years old and completely out of fashion! We must capture this Bela girl today! I shall steal the secret of her charm and lock her giggles in a jar! Bwahaha!
WITCH WARTY: Oh, yes! And I'm taking her new shoes! And then I'll make her sweep my chimney dressed as a featherless chicken! Hee-hee-splat!
THE SPICY WOLF: And I'm wrapping her in warm tacos with diced onions, smoked morita peppers, fiery chile de árbol, red habaneros, and a volcano blast of extra-hot Valentina salsa! (Gasping with wide, watering eyes). Oh, mama mia... I'm getting hiccups just dreaming about that tongue-scorching, roof-melting spiciness! (Growls fiercely). Grrr, I'll gulp her down with triple habanero and…! (A violent, squeaky hiccup cuts him off): Hic! Owooo-hic! Blasted peppers, I got spicy hiccups just from thinking about it! Hic! Water, get me water!
WITCH WARTY: Quiet, you beasts, I hear footsteps! Quick, behind the hollow tree! Let's set up the prank signpost!
(Witch Warty flips the signpost arrow so it points in a circle back to the same glade. The three villains crouch behind the tree, their pointy hat, wolf ears, and crown poking out. Bela enters carrying her honey basket, followed by Tom, who wears his colander helmet, walks backwards holding his turtle Puchis upside down, and studies an enormous map held completely upside down. Little Calf and Miss Tickles peek in behind them).
BELA: Tom, are you absolutely sure this path leads to Grandma's windmill? (Hugs herself and shivers). Brrr! I just felt a sudden shiver… The woods are getting gloomy, and the trees look like they woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
TOM: (Bumping backwards into the well and bowing to it). My apologies, Madam Boulder! Don't fret, Bela! According to this professional map I drafted yesterday with my number-one ultra-soft pencil, the sky is at the bottom, the tree roots are in the clouds, and we are marching perfectly... in reverse! Whoops, looks like we entered the Woods of Sudden Shivers! (Tom trembles from head to toe, twitching like a scared guinea pig).
BELA: (Flipping Tom's map right-side up). Your number-one pencil was so soft the whole map smudged away, Tom! Besides, you were holding it upside down, just like poor Puchis! And look—you untied Little Calf and Miss Tickles! Why did you let them loose?
TOM: Because Miss Tickles gave me the side-eye! She told me with her sheep eyes that she and Little Calf are grown-up, independent barn animals, and keeping them on leashes is completely undignified. She had a point, didn't she? Plus, Little Calf swore he'd ring his cowbell if he spotted a wolf, but I think he swallowed it by mistake because his tummy goes clink-clank when he trots.
(Little Calf and Miss Tickles spot a yellow butterfly and dash offstage after it with clink-clank noises, joyful moos, and cheerful bleats).
BELA: Little Calf! Miss Tickles, come back here! Oh, Tom, they vanished into the brambles! And we have to protect this giant jar of wild honey for Grandma; it's the stickiest, sweetest honey in the entire county. (Shivers suddenly). Yikes! Another sudden shiver!
TOM: Have no fear, Bela! If any forest ruffian shows up, my steel helmet, Puchis, and I will defend you—we're black-belt karate masters! (Raises Puchis into an absurd karate stance). Attack, Puchis, chop the baddies! Uh… wait a minute, Puchis, where did your head go?!
BELA: (Sighing tenderly). Oh, Tom, poor Puchis. If you didn't always carry her upside down, maybe she could actually help us fight villains. Right, Puchis?
TOM: Bela, don't you realize you're talking to her tail? (Flips the turtle around right in front of Bela's nose). There! Now, Puchis, tell Bela we shall conquer every monster in these woods!
BELA: It's getting dark, Tom. We have to find Little Calf and Miss Tickles… (Shivers). Whoa, another sudden shiver!
TOM: (Shivering alongside his turtle). Yikes, we caught one too! Right, Puchis? Yes, she says her shell got goosebumps! Onward, let's follow the arrow!
SCENE TWO: THE TRAP INN AND THE HEROIC COLANDER
(The same glade, five minutes later. The villains hang a painted sign: "THE SWEET GRANDMAS' INN. REST YOUR WEARY BONES". Queen Tacky wraps a shawl over her head but forgets to remove her tin crown. Witch Warty hides a giant butterfly net. The Spicy Wolf sits on all fours under a blanket painted with red and green chili peppers, pretending to be an armchair).
QUEEN TACKY: (Whispering sharply). Freeze, you dunces! As soon as the brat sits on the Wolf-Chair, toss the net over her and I'll snatch the honey basket. Quiet, here they come!
BELA: Little Calf! Miss Tickles! Nowhere in sight... and it feels like we've been walking in circles. Wait, look, Tom! An inn right in the middle of the woods? And a little old granny with… a tin crown?
QUEEN TACKY: (Hides the crown behind her back, squeaking like a rusty hinge). Step right inside, delicious children... er, precious children! You look positively exhausted. Have a seat, sweet little Bela, right on this genuine luxury fur armchair. It hardly ever bites!
BELA: (Eyeballing the hairy ears and twitching tail sticking out from under the blanket). Thank you kindly, ma'am, but... why does your armchair have a bib with a hot-sauce piglet tied around its collar? And why are its springs growling like a severe case of heartburn?!
TOM: (Stepping in like a seasoned mechanic). I know that sound, Bela! We had an armchair just like this back home—squeaked like mad because the coil springs were loose. It's a quick fix: you just whack it into shape with a heavy iron tool! See? My knight's colander helmet will do the trick!
(Tom whips the colander off his head and begins hammering the Wolf's back with mighty metal clangs).
TOM: Settle down, crooked leg! (CLANG!). Stop rumbling, rusty spring! (CLANG!). Look how flat and cozy this furniture is getting, Bela! (CLANG!).
THE SPICY WOLF: (Leaping into the air, clutching his bruised rear). YEE-OWWW! My spicy tail! Hic! I'm not a piece of furniture, you little knucklehead, I'm the Spicy Wolf! Hic! And I am utterly ferocious!
WITCH WARTY: (Tearing at her hair). There go your hiccups again, you muttonhead! You ruined the surprise! Get them!
(Witch Warty flings the giant net over Bela, pinning her arms. Queen Tacky pulls off her shawl, straightens her crown, and cackles triumphantly).
QUEEN TACKY: Bwahaha! Hook, line, and sinker! Quick, Witch Warty, tie her up with the bramble rope while I confiscate this prize basket!
BELA: Let me go, you cheaters! Three against one isn't fair play—it's totally unethical! Tom, run for help!
TOM: (Pulling his pasta colander down over his eyes, blinding himself completely, and setting Puchis gently on the ground). Never! A true knight never abandons his best friend! With my mighty helmet, I am invincible! Prepare to face the wrath of Tom the Unstoppable!
(Tom charges blindly forward and locks his arms around the hollow tree trunk, hugging it with all his might).
TOM: Gotcha, Witch Warty! Boy, you are stiff as an old telephone pole! Surrender right now or I'll slap you with my patented Flying Monkey Wrestling Lock!
WITCH WARTY: (Giving Tom a shove with her broomstick that sends him falling rear-first into an empty wooden barrel). Stay parked in there, kitchen knight! Hee-hee-splat! Now, my wicked conspirators, let us decide the fate of little Bela!
SCENE THREE: THE HOAX OF THE TREASURE AND THE TICKLE TORTURE
(Bela is tied to the dry stone well. From inside the barrel, Tom peeks out, retrieves Puchis, and signals to Bela. The three villains dance around Bela in a gloating victory circle).
THE THREE VILLAINS:
We are wicked, mean and foul,
Scaring kiddies on the prowl!
Catch them, cook them, plate them neat,
Peppers, salt, and extra heat!
We are nasty through and through,
Pulled or roasted in a stew,
Eating children all year through!
THE SPICY WOLF: (Sharpening an oversized wooden fork and knife). Enough singing, my appetite is getting cold! Hic! I'm devouring her smothered in spicy green sauce in one single gulp!
QUEEN TACKY: Over my dead body, fur-face! I never touch spicy food—it completely ruins my royal complexion. Besides, first this little brat must spill her secret: how does she get every peasant in the realm to adore her, while they pelt me with rotten tomatoes from the balconies?!
WITCH WARTY: And she has to hand over those brand-new shoes! I need to look dashing for the Elite Witches' Gala this October. They told me my routine last Halloween was remarkably "interesting"!
QUEEN TACKY: Darling, they said "interesting" because you tripped on your hem three times and fell nose-first into the punch bowl. If it had been good, they'd have said magnificent, sinister, ghastly... but "interesting"? Please.
BELA: (Interrupts with theatrical sobbing, glancing sideways down into the dry well). Oh, cruel fate! What an utter catastrophe! Now that I am captured, nobody will ever unearth the Supreme Grand Treasure of Ultimate Villainy that slipped from my hands and tumbled straight into the bottom of this dry well...
QUEEN TACKY: What did you blabber, you twerp? What fell into the well? A treasure?
WITCH WARTY: I heard it crystal clear—she said treasure!
THE SPICY WOLF: A treasure down the well?! Hic! Spill the beans, kid, spill!
BELA: (Feigning coy indifference). Nothing, nothing... Forget I said anything. It was just another sudden shiver talking. Besides, it's trivial junk... Mere trifles! Just a Black Diamond Crown that makes the wearer impossibly glamorous without needing any mirrors; a pair of Haunted Golden Slippers that dance on their own without ever stumbling... and a five-meter-long Imperial Habanero Pepper that regenerates every time you take a bite.
THE SPICY WOLF: (Drooling down to the grass). An infinite habanero pepper?! Hic! Out of my way, it's mine!
WITCH WARTY: The golden dancing slippers are mine! Back off, peasants!
QUEEN TACKY: Step aside, commoners! The black diamond crown belongs to me by divine royal right!
BELA: Wait! You must all lean deep, deep over the rim at the exact same instant—it's enchanted, and it only glimmers when shaded by three villainous noggins side by side! (Whispering quickly to the barrel): Now, Tom! Jump out and grab the honey jar!
(The villains elbow each other, leaning their torsos deep into the well with their rears stuck high in the air. Tom pops out, unties Bela, and together they hoist the giant honey jar, with Puchis nestled safely in Tom's coat pocket).
QUEEN TACKY: I can't see a single sparkle! Shove over, Witch, your giant wart is blocking all the sunlight!
WITCH WARTY: Lean lower! Down at the bottom, something is glittering golden!
THE SPICY WOLF: Yes, I see it! It's the glorious habanero! And it's a green one—the extra-scorching kind! Hic!
BELA: On your mark...! Get set...! And GO! Bottoms up with extra honey!
(Bela and Tom dump the entire vat of thick golden honey over the villains and shove their backsides in unison. With a chorus of comedic yelps —"AAAAAH-SPLAT!"— all three tumble headfirst into the shallow well. Instantly, six bare feet shoot up into the air, kicking wildly, their shoes knocked clean off, the soles smeared with sticky golden honey. In between their kicking feet, their honey-glued heads pop up over the stone rim).
QUEEN TACKY: Help! We're stuck! This honey is so gooey we're plastered to the stone floor like flies on sticky tape!
WITCH WARTY: My feet! My witch boots popped right off and my toes are coated in sweet goo! Yuck! I despise sweet things!
THE SPICY WOLF: Pull us out, kind children! I swear I'll go vegan and eat unseasoned oatmeal forever! Hic! Hic! Does anyone have Pepto-Bismol?!
TOM: (Peering down with deadpan seriousness). We are dreadfully sorry, esteemed evildoers, but the warning sign clearly stated: "Falling Inside Strictly Forbidden". Although, darn it, Bela... we used up all of your grandmother's honey. How are we ever going to clean their sticky soles?
BELA: (Grinning mischievously toward the foliage). Grandma will be thrilled to hear our story, Tom. And as for cleaning duties, two sweet-toothed specialists just arrived right on cue... (Blows a loud whistle). Come on out, Little Calf! Step right up, Miss Tickles! There's a giant honey lollipop waiting for you in the well!
(Fast, cheery circus music kicks in. Little Calf trots in with his foot-long pink tongue flapping, and Miss Tickles bounces in wagging her bushy wool beard. They dive straight onto the six sticky bare feet, licking and nuzzling with relentless comic enthusiasm).
WITCH WARTY: (Shrieking with hysterical giggles). HA, HA, HA, HA! MERCY! NOT ON MY SOLES—I'VE BEEN TICKLISH SINCE BIRTH! GET THIS CALF OFF ME, HIS TONGUE FEELS LIKE A CHEESE GRATER! HA, HA, HA!
QUEEN TACKY: (Kicking and weeping with laughter). HA, HA, HA! NOW I GET WHY SHE'S CALLED MISS TICKLES! I'M DYING OF LAUGHTER! NO, NOT BETWEEN MY ROYAL TOES WITH THAT WOOL BEARD! NOOO! I BEG FOR CLEMENCY! TAKE MY CROWN AND MIRROR, JUST CALL OFF THIS TICKLE-SHEEP! HA, HA, HA!
THE SPICY WOLF: (Howling with laughter and hiccups). OWOOO-HA-HA-HA-HIC! DON'T LICK MY HEEL, CALF, I'M GOING TO WET MY FUR WITH LAUGHTER! I PROMISE NEVER TO EAT ANOTHER HABANERO! I'LL EAT LETTUCE, WHOLE MILK, AND GREEK YOGURT! I'LL BE YOUR LOYAL FARM WATCHDOG! JUST STOP THE TICKLING! HIC!
TOM: (Petting Puchis right-side up). Boy, Bela, talk about sweet justice! (Twitches suddenly). Yikes! Another sudden shiver hit me… Did you feel it too, Puchis?
BELA: (Twitching). Brrr! Me too! How strange... The danger is over. Why do we keep getting sudden shivers, Tom?
TOM: Hey, Bela… Could it be guilt shivers for leaving the villains to suffer endless tickling? (Shivers). Yikes! Are you completely sure we're the good guys?
BELA: Of course we're the good guys! But you're right: true heroes don't leave anyone stranded in eternal tickle torture. (Whistles). Little Calf, Miss Tickles, wonderful job! You've licked every drop clean! Off to Grandma's windmill we go!
(The animals deliver one final hearty lick with a proud "Mooo!" and "Baaah!", then trot merrily behind Bela and Tom. The children scoop up the queen's crown and mirror, wave goodbye to the audience, and exit with springy steps, completely cured of shivers).
QUEEN TACKY: (Gasping with sweet relief). Whew! They're finally gone! Just as I suspected: those brats weren't nasty enough to match us…
WITCH WARTY: Yes, what a relief... Say, who's going to un-stick us from the bottom of this well?
THE SPICY WOLF: (Shivering violently). Brrr! Holy jalapeño, I just felt a sudden shiver! Hic!
WITCH WARTY: (Shivering). Yikes, me too!
QUEEN TACKY: (Shivering). And me! Oh, this is so unfair! Why do the villains always get the raw end of the fairy tale?! Somebody get us out of here!
(Triumphant brass fanfare. The six bare feet give one last synchronized kick in the air, and the curtain falls amidst audience laughter).
CURTAIN
