ONE TRAP, MANY TROUBLES

One Trap, Many Troubles is a powerful and humorous farmyard fable that teaches children an important life lesson: when we ignore the struggles of others, those problems can come knocking at our door. When Pip the Mouse discovers a dangerous mousetrap in the house, he tries to warn the other animals—but they all believe it’s “not their problem.” What unfolds is a chain of unexpected consequences that show just how connected we all truly are. This play is perfect for classroom performances and discussions about empathy, community, and personal responsibility.

CHARACTERS:

NARRATOR

PIP (MOUSE)

BARNABY (CHICKEN)

WOOLLY (LAMB)

DAISY (COW)

MARTHA (WOMAN)

GEORGE (MAN)

DR. FEATHERBOTTOM

SLITHER (SNAKE – Voice only, or a prop)

PROPS:

A small, ominous box labeled “Fragile” or “Handle with Care” (concealing a snap trap).

A soup pot and ladle.

One large, comically long thermometer.

General farm ambiance sounds (optional: chirping, mooing, baaing).

SCRIPT:

(A cozy farmyard scene. The Narrator stands to one side, holding a storybook.)

NARRATOR: Welcome, friends, to a tale as old as time itself, whispered amongst the rustling leaves and across the farm fields. It’s a story about consequences, about empathy, and about how a small problem for one can quickly become a giant headache for all. Our story begins with a curious little creature named Pip.

(Sound of gentle scurrying. Pip the Mouse peeks out from behind a painted wall or flat, eyes wide with curiosity. He gestures towards an unseen window.)

PIP: (Whispering conspiratorially to the audience) Psst! Look! Over in the big human house! I’ve been watching them all day. They’re opening something… something new! Oh, my whiskers tingle with anticipation! What glorious treat could be inside? Cheese? Crumbs? A whole loaf of unattended bread?!

(The Narrator gestures, and the Man and Woman mime opening a package with hushed excitement. They reveal a simple, spring-loaded mousetrap. Pip recoils dramatically.)

PIP: (Gasping, clutching his chest) Great Gouda of the North! My fur stands on end! It’s not a delicacy; it’s a death trap! A contraption of doom! Oh, the horror! The injustice! I must warn the others!

(Pip scurries frantically out from behind the wall, eyes darting.)

NARRATOR: And so, our brave, albeit terrified, Pip, scampered with a desperate plea in his tiny heart. He raced through the farmyard, his message urgent, his voice squeaky with fear.

(Pip spots Barnaby the Chicken, busily pecking at the ground.)

PIP: Barnaby! Barnaby, my fine-feathered friend, listen to me! There’s a mousetrap in the house! A genuine, spring-loaded, tail-snapping mousetrap! We’re all in danger!

BARNABY: (Stops pecking, squints at Pip, then resumes with a dismissive cluck) A mousetrap, you say? (Pecks) Oh, Pip, my dear boy, I appreciate your… enthusiasm. But frankly, that sounds like your problem. I’m a chicken. I scratch, I cluck, I lay eggs. I don’t get involved in interspecies rodent issues. Now, if you’ll excuse me, these worms won’t find themselves! (Muttering) Honestly, some mice are such drama queens.

(Barnaby clucks off, shaking his head. PIP looks deflated.)

NARRATOR: Disheartened but not defeated, Pip continued his urgent rounds. Next, he found Woolly, the Lamb, peacefully munching on clover, looking utterly serene.

(Pip approaches Woolly, who is dreamily chewing.)

PIP: Mr. Woolly, sir! Sir! There’s a mousetrap! In the house! It’s a menace!

WOOLLY: (Slowly lifts his head, blinks serenely, then chews thoughtfully) A mousetrap, you say? (Chews) Mmm, well, I believe that is simply not my karma, dear Pip. My path is one of peace and quiet contemplation. I shall keep you in my prayers, of course. Stay calm, little one; the universe provides. (Resumes chewing) Baa-men.

(Woolly returns to his clover, oblivious. Pip sighs, then spots Daisy the Cow, majestically chewing her cud.)

NARRATOR: With a growing sense of despair, Pip approached the grandest of them all, Daisy the Cow. Surely, she, with her wisdom and stature, would understand!

PIP: Mrs. Daisy! Mrs. Daisy, please! There’s a mousetrap in the house! It’s a threat to us all!

DAISY: (Chews, pauses, stares blankly at Pip) A mousetrap? (Chews) Moo. That sounds rather… small. Does it involve grass? Or perhaps a nice patch of daisies? No? Then I fail to see how it concerns me. Am I in danger, you ask? (Snorts) Please. I am a cow. I graze. I give milk. I am impervious to such trivialities. Now, if you’ll excuse me, this cud isn’t going to chew itself. (Resumes chewing, looking bored.)

(Pip hangs his head, utterly dejected.)

NARRATOR: And so, Pip, our little prophet of doom, slunk back to his hole, his heart heavy with the weight of unheeded warnings. The farmyard fell silent, lulled into a false sense of security by the setting sun. But as the moon rose, casting long shadows, a sharp, metallic SNAP echoed through the quiet night.

(Sound of a loud, distinct “SNAP!” – perhaps amplified for effect.)

NARRATOR: The woman, Martha, startled awake, hurried to investigate the alarming sound. It was pitch black. In her haste, she didn’t see what the trap had caught. It wasn’t a mouse.

(Martha screams offstage.)

MARTHA: (Offstage, in a sharp cry of pain) AIEEEE! I’ve been bitten! By something! Oh, the pain!

(Sound of a low, menacing hiss – Slither the snake’s voice.)

SLITHER: (Voice over, cold and sibilant) Sssssilly woman… Should have left me to my sssslumber…

NARRATOR: Martha, reeling from the venomous bite, collapsed. Her husband, George, rushed to her side, his face etched with panic.

(George enters, frantic, helping Martha, who is moaning.)

GEORGE: Martha! My darling! Oh, what is it? A snake! Call the doctor! Someone! Anyone!

(Sound of a frantic phone ringing, then a quick pickup. DR. Featherbottom enters, looking stern, carrying a comically large thermometer.)

DR. FEATHERBOTTOM: Alright, alright, what’s all this hullabaloo? (He shoves the thermometer under Martha’s armpit, then pulls it out, looking concerned) Hmm, quite the fever! A nasty business, this. There’s only one cure for such a powerful fever… classic chicken soup! Nothing soothes the body and soul like a good, hearty chicken soup!

GEORGE: Chicken soup! Of course! (He turns to exit, then stops) But… where will I get a chicken?

(George’s eyes land on the chickens offstage. Sound of frantic clucking.)

NARRATOR: And just like that, the solution became clear to George. He needed a chicken. And who better than a plump, unsuspecting one from his very own farm?

(George exits quickly. Sound of frantic running and squawking. Barnaby rushes across the stage, looking terrified.)

BARNABY: (Panicked) Oh, dear! Oh, dear, oh dear, oh dear! He’s after me! He’s going to make ME into SOUP! My clucking career is over! Run, chickens, run!

(Barnaby exits in a blur. George re-enters, looking exhausted but victorious, carrying a steaming soup pot.)

GEORGE: (Panting) Phew! That was quite a chase! But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do for his sick wife. Here we are, Martha! Freshly made!

(He mimes feeding Martha. Martha sips, then visibly brightens a little.)

NARRATOR: The chicken soup worked wonders! Martha’s fever began to break. But as word spread of her illness, friends and neighbors flocked to the farmhouse to offer their support. And a good host, even in distress, must feed his guests.

(Sound of murmuring and footsteps, as if many people are arriving. George looks around at the imaginary crowd.)

GEORGE: So many hungry mouths! What to do, what to do? Ah! A hearty lamb stew! That’ll warm their spirits!

(George exits swiftly. Sound of a panicked bleating. Woolly rushes across the stage, looking less serene and more terrified.)

WOOLLY: (Panicked) Oh, the humanity! My prayers did not cover this! He’s coming for me! My destiny is not stew! It’s… it’s… (He trips, then scrambles up) Run, my woolly brethren! RUN!

(Woolly exits. George re-enters, looking even more tired, carrying a platter of imaginary stew.)

GEORGE: (Wipes his brow) Another culinary triumph! This should feed everyone!

NARRATOR: Martha slowly recovered, her strength returning. To celebrate her full recovery, George decided to throw a grand party. And for a truly grand party, you need a grand feast.

(Martha enters, looking much healthier, smiling. George beams.)

GEORGE: My darling, you’re well! A celebration is in order! A feast! A veritable banquet! And what better centerpiece than a magnificent… roast beef!

(George’s eyes gleam as he looks towards where Daisy might be. Sound of a startled “MOOOOO!”)

DAISY: (Offstage, voice full of indignant surprise) Who, me?! A party? I wasn’t even invited! I specifically recall NOT receiving an invitation!

GEORGE: (Grinning, exits quickly) Oh, but you are the guest of honor, Mrs. Cow! The main course!

(Sound of frantic galloping and loud mooing. Daisy’s indignant “MOO!”). George re-enters, looking absolutely spent, but with a satisfied smile.)

GEORGE: (Panting, collapses onto an imaginary chair) Phew! Well worth the effort!

(Pip the Mouse, who has been watching the entire spectacle from his hiding spot, slowly emerges, looking wiser, perhaps a little sad, but resolute.)

NARRATOR: And as the joyous sounds of the party filled the air, a tiny, thoughtful voice finally emerged from the shadows, carrying a powerful truth.

PIP: (Walks to the center of the stage, addresses the audience with newfound gravitas) You see? You see what happens? They laughed. They dismissed me. “Not my problem,” they said. “I’ll pray,” they said. “That won’t hurt me,” they said.

(He gestures to the imaginary empty spaces where the Chicken, Lamb, and Cow once were.)

PIP: But when the mousetrap caught the snake, it wasn’t just my problem anymore. The woman got sick, the chicken became soup, the lamb became stew, and the cow… well, the cow became the main course!

(He looks directly at the audience, his voice clear and firm.)

PIP: Next time, when you hear that someone, no matter how small, is facing a problem, remember this farm. Remember the mousetrap. Because a problem for one, when ignored, can quickly become a problem for everyone. We are all connected, and a little help, a little empathy, can save us all from becoming… soup.

(Pip bows slightly. Lights fade.)

THE END

ADAPTED BY: K I D S I N C O

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External Resources:

• Aesop’s Fables for Children – Storyberries (free online fables)
• What Is a Fable? Definition and Examples – Literary Terms
• What is a Fable – Wikipedia

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