Everybody Loves Opal, by John Patrick

Opal Kronkie, a middle-aged recluse, lives in a tumbledown mansion at the edge of the municipal dump. The general disarray of her establishment is aggravated by the fact that Opal collects things—anything that can be toted home in her little red wagon. Opal is also an optimist, for no matter how mean her lot—or her "friends" —Opal responds with unfailing kindness and an abiding faith in the goodness of human nature. Into her rather strange world comes Gloria, Bradford and Solomon, three purveyors of bogus perfume on the lam from the authorities. Opal's menage is the perfect hideout—and Opal, herself, might be the remedy for their shattered finances. They decide that what she needs is plenty of insurance, a rapid demise, and three beneficiaries named Gloria, Bradford and Solomon. Attempted murder wouldn't seem to be funny, but in Mr. Patrick's magic hands it is uproarious. The unsavory trio concoct an elaborate scheme to drop the ceiling on Opal's unsuspecting head—but she is in the cellar at the time; they try to drug her and set the house on fire—but Opal's state trooper friend arrives at the wrong (or right) moment; a plan for a "hit and run" accident backfires. Through it all, Opal radiates kindness, affection and, strangely enough, gratitude. But the real clincher comes at the end. It seems that there was plenty of money around all the time; bags, barrels, and mooseheads full of it, in fact, and any friend of Opal's is welcome to as much as he wants. All they had to do was ask.

"Mr. Patrick calls his play "a…prank in three acts," and the critical reception of the Broadway production was a resounding vindication of his efforts. To wit: "…shamelessly entertaining…" —NY Post. "…loads of laughs and a cheerful philosophy." —NY Mirror. "…chockful of nutty laughs." —Women's Wear Daily. "…goofy, extravagant and enjoyable." —NY Daily News.

A Bad Year for Tomatoes, by John Patrick

Fed up with the pressures and demands of her acting career, the famous Myra Marlowe leases a house in the tiny New England hamlet of Beaver Haven and settles down to write her autobiography. She is successful in turning aside the offers pressed on her by her long-time agent, but dealing with her nosy, omnipresent neighbors is a different matter. In an attempt to shoo them away, and gain some privacy, Myra invents a mad, homicidal sister—who is kept locked in an upstairs room, but who occasionally escapes long enough to scare off uninvited visitors. The ruse works well, at first, but complications result when the local handyman develops an affection for “Sister Sadie” (really Myra in a fright wig) and some of the more officious ladies decide it is their Christian duty to save the poor demented Sadie’s soul. In desperation Myra announces that her imaginary sibling has suddenly gone off to Boston—which brings on the sheriff and the suspicion of murder! Needless to say, all is straightened out in the end, but the uproarious doings will keep audiences laughing right up to the final curtain, and then some.