The Polymath Players Present...
Aly Cross is making South County theater come to life! Children 3-18 will have the opportunity to learn improv, scene study, character development, musical theater, puppet theater, music, and more.
The Polymath Players has continuous opportunities to perform reviews and full shows.
Please check back regularly for auditions or check or Facebook page.
Please look under classes tab: theater, for full list of current and upcoming theater classes.
Ms Aly is available for Acting and Audition Coaching
Individual tutoring: $35/hr for one tutoring hour, $125/4 tutoring hours, or $290/10 tutoring hours
Small group tutoring (4 or less): $25/hr for one tutoring hour, $85/4 tutoring hours, or $195/10 tutoring hours
To schedule please email
See Our Summer Show
Tickets on Sale now!
Our Summer Show is a fun review of Broadway! From SpongeBob to Sondheim, Frozen to Fosse, Lion King to Lin Manuel Miranda these kids are going to shine under the bright lights!
Performance Saturday July 24th, 7pm
at The Polymath Place
Audition Monologue Samples
The Last M&M Samurai (male or female)
Dan/Danielle talks to a close friend about why he/she never eats the last Peanut M&M in the bag.
Dan/Danielle: You gotta let the last man go. It’s honorable. He’s the last guy to make it out of the bag. The warrior. He’s the last samurai, dude.
You have to give it some thought and wonder, how did this little Peanut M&M do it? How was he skilled enough to be the last one in the bag? All the different colors. All the different sizes. Clearly he was the strongest, the swiftest, the smartest Peanut M&M out of the bunch.
Picture it. All of those other guys, some bigger than you, some faster than you, some smarter than you…all fighting to stay in the back of the bag when some human comes and turns it upside down to eat one of you. This little fella beat the odds. He deserves to be set free, just on moral obligation alone.
Call me crazy, but no matter what you say, I’m always going to let the last samurai go.
A guy who imagines himself being 5’11 when in reality he’s about 5’8. He tries to convince anyone else otherwise.
DEREK: No, I’m a Medium. Why do you keep asking me if I’m a Small? Do I look like a hobbit to you? I have wide shoulders. (standing up) Look. Look at me. See how my shoulders are wide and then as you go down it starts to V, that’s because I have wide shoulders, alright?
I know the last shirt you got me was a Small and still looked big on me. That’s because it was made that way. It’s just how that company makes that style shirt. There are other companies that make things I can get in a large. Oh, like that coat you made fun of me in! Sure, a little baggy, but that was the style…well, actually, yeah, you’re right about the coat. It was too big. Why did I buy a coat so big??
Do I suffer from a slight case of Napoleon disease? Not like a big case but like a small case…you think? Well, I’m 5’11 so I’m no Napoleon. What? I am TOO 5’11!.....Um, I am not 5’9. Listen, when we measured last time it was in an old house with crooked floors, ok? Your mom’s floors are the original ones from, like 1910. They’re all lopsided. Everyone’s height fluctuates in that house depending on where they’re standing.
I’m no smaller than 5’10, that I’m one hundred percent sure about. On my life…. I swear on my life about that, and that’s still a good height for a guy so I’m not complaining. I’ll give you the inch.
Front Row Seats (male or female)
Joe/Joan has a bad reaction to food he/she ate in relation to being lactose intolerant…right before a play is about to begin.
JOE/JOAN: Can’t believe this happens to me, EVERY time! I try so hard to go out and have a good time, but I get stuck suffering when I have dairy and it pisses me off cause I want to enjoy the finer things in life.
I mean, why is it so difficult for me to eat a quesadilla or a slice of pizza without having to climb walls in agony? I need a stomach transplant.
Lucky you can eat whatever your heart desires. And not only that but you eat combinations of food that don’t even make sense. You’ll have a roast beef sandwich with chinese food or a taco with pasta…and you walk around perfectly fine…”Let’s go do fun stuff!”.....if I did that I’d be in the hospital for three days.
I have never seen anyone in all my life put ranch dressing on just about every meal they have and not blink an eye. You walk around as if ranch was a pinch of pepper…I don’t know how you do it. If I even glance at ranch dressing I immediately get cramps and start farting!
It’s so unsettling, this is so unsettling and I am so fed up with this stupid bouncy leg routine that I have to do in order to deal with the discomfort and avoid pooping my---------(Runs off stage)
Dog-Sitter’s Anxiety (male or female)
Zara/Zeke tells her/his friend about the terrible dog she/he’s been dog-sitting.
ZARA/ZEKE: So, she asks me to watch her puppy, Oscar. I say, “Sure!” I mean, how bad could it be to watch an innocent, harmless, cute little Pomeranian for three days? Right?.....Right? WRONG! It was a freakin’ nightmare. Look at me! Do you see the bags under my eyes? This dog has NOT stopped barking his tiny squeaky bark, (imitates dog) “Maar! Maar! Maar Maar Maar Maar Maar!!!!” Didn’t stop barking for the entire night. “Maar Maar Maar Maar!!” I tossed and turned and tossed and turned for hours. I felt like a 1980’s break dancer.
Finally, it was time to go to work. I was actually excited to go to work for once in my life. It was a better option than staying home with “Maar! Maar! Maar Maar Maar Maar Maar!!!!” But guess what?! When I walked into my kitchen, I found myself sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiding alllllllll the waaaaaaaaaaaay ACROSS the room and FLAT DEAD ON MY BACK! In…DOG PEE PEEEEEEE!!!! ……………...Yep. Dead serious.
It’s messed up! The dog is messed up! Cheryl is messed up for suckering me into watching that thing! He tore up my couch when I came home from work. My couch, the one that I just recently purchased from IKEA, great deal by the way, is destroyed!
“And where was Oscar” you ask? Somehow, Oscar the trapeze artist had gotten himself ON TOP of my kitchen counter. Did I mention how small this puppy is? The size of my foot. Don’t know how he got up onto the counter, miracles of God, ANYWAY, he couldn’t get down. The genius was afraid to jump, and rightfully so, I’ll give him that.
Mind you, there was a load of poop and pee pee to go around, spread allllllll over the counter tops.
SO, I’m going to shut up now before I find myself dying in a hospital from dog sitter’s anxiety.
Breaking Out of the Funk (male or female)
KELLY/KEN is absolutely bored to death and has no way of breaking out of the funk she’s in.
Kelly/Ken: I am so bored. Bored to death. (staring out at nothing) There is nothing. Absolutely nothing going on. Not a breeze, not a smile, not a freakin’ thing. Just thoughts. Aimless thoughts amounting to nothing but more aimless thoughts divided and multiplied again by more aimless thoughts. Round thoughts. Square thoughts. Pear shaped thoughts. Thoughts with no meaning. Just babble, babble, babble-dee-doo. All day long. Jumping through hoops and gobble-dee-gook.
Maybe I’m finally going insane. Has it happened? Is today the day when my brain goes ‘Click’? No. I don’t think so. If I were crazy, I wouldn’t be so calm. I don’t think I’m the calm and crazy type. Probably one of those loud and physically active types of crazy.
Maybe this is the first stage. Maybe it’s all just silence, until I slowly begin to fill in all this insane quiet.
What a crap day. Truly. This has to be the most boring, crap day of my life.
(Lets out a long, loud & dramatic *SIGGGGGHHHHHHHH!*)
Wow. Just caught a whiff of my own breath. There’s something. There’s a thing to do. Brush my teeth. I’m gonna go brush my breath. Something to do! WEEEEEE! ……. God.
Crazy Glue (female)
Laurie calls her best friend up for help. She has crazy-glued her hand to her cheek and cannot separate them. She calls her friend, Alison in utter panic and emotional turmoil.
LAURIE: Alison, oh God, it’s me, it’s Laurie. I glued my…...Alison, I glued my hand to my cheek! I’m walking around the house trying every kind of product and I can’t get it off. Nothing will work! I crazy glued myself to myself!
I was fixing the wooden chair that my Aunt Fran sat in and broke with her fat ass on Thanksgiving, remember? So, I decided to try and fix it. Well, the wood glue didn’t seem to be working, so I crazy glued it. Yeah, I was lying underneath the chair, gluing the bottom half of the seat because it had all these small cracks. But, but then the chair came apart and the seat was headed towards my face so I put my hand up to protect myself and my hand got stuck to my cheek…it all happened so fast!
I’m walking around the house like a complete idiot and I’ve tried EVERYTHING!!!! I’ve tried soap, laundry detergent, nail polish remover, windex, Mom’s vodka, toilet bowl cleaner and hand sanitizer! Everytime I try to pull my hand away it’s like my CHEEK is gonna come off!!! Also, my eye is burning and it keeps tearing and I may go blind so I am walking around my house with one eye and one arm!
Alison? Hello? Alison, are you there? ALISON?! (She gasps) You’re laughing? Are you laughing at me? YOU’RE LAUGHING?! My hand is stuck to my cheek and I’m going blind and you’re laughing?!..........(she starts to laugh also) I know, I know it’s kind of funny but I want to laugh later, not now. Right now I need to get my hand off my cheek. Can you come over? PLEASE. I am losing blood circulation in my arm! YEAH? You will??! Oh, thank God. Alison, please hurry, I’m feeling a bit faint.