Please Don’t Clap
Every clap means another rabbit. An interactive comedy with three endings.
Your move
What do you do?
One small clap
“Just one little clap,” says Felix.
A man in the front row claps once. A white rabbit hops out of the top hat.
You are helping a magician for the evening. Beside you are three prop baskets and a heap of silk scarves. Before the show, Felix demonstrated his new hat: every clap nearby produces another rabbit. Shouting, laughing and stamping do nothing. The rabbits do not disappear afterwards.
“You see? Entirely under control.”
Felix bows. All eight people in the audience clap.
You catch one rabbit. A second lands on your shoulder. A third begins eating the running order.
“Your control, now,” Felix whispers.
A very successful disaster
You hold out a prop basket. Rabbits hop into it, and Felix deftly covers it with a silk scarf.
The audience claps. The hat produces more rabbits.
You fetch a second basket. It is occupied. Someone got there first and is chewing a fake carrot. Felix left the real one at home.
“We need to do something they won’t applaud,” you say.
“I don’t have anything like that.”
A rabbit pulls the scarf out of the first basket. Felix catches the other end. A second scarf trails from his sleeve, then a third, then a fourth. He tries to stop, but there is far too much sleeve.
Eight people watch a small animal beat a grown man at silk tug-of-war.
More applause.
Felix lets go. The rabbit drags the scarf into a corner with three accomplices.
“I suppose,” Felix says, “I could do the card trick.”
You saw that trick in rehearsal. He did not get the card right once.
Secrets revealed
“It really is a magic hat!” you say. “One clap, one new rabbit. Please don’t clap.”
The room goes quiet. The man in the front row slowly opens his hands as though holding the last egg in the world.
“So there isn’t a trick?” asks a woman.
“What do you mean?” says Felix, offended. “It’s actual magic!”
“I thought you were hiding them. I wanted to know where.”
Felix pulls open his waistcoat. A rabbit that has crawled behind the lining peers out.
“I didn’t hide that one.”
The woman nods, satisfied. She has understood everything except your explanation.
You ask them to shout bravo, laugh, stamp their feet—anything except clap. All eight people try hard. Nothing comes out of the hat.
Felix straightens up.
“Ladies and gentlemen! My assistant will now disappear!”
You stare at him.
“With the rabbits,” he adds, rather more quietly.
Beside you stands the third, still empty basket. It has room for one of your shoes.
Ending: perfect silence
“The seven of spades!” Felix announces.
“No,” says the man.
“Nine?”
“No.”
“Spades?”
“Wrong colour altogether.”
Felix looks at the deck. At the man. Back at the deck.
“Are you quite sure you took a card from here?”
You show him the empty little holder. The deck he is holding is still sealed. The man took a business card from the table.
A long silence. Nothing comes out of the hat.
You slowly pick it up and edge towards the wings. Felix watches you go. Three more steps.
“Your name,” he tells the man, “begins with the letter…”
You shake your head desperately.
“…I have no idea.”
Nobody claps. You carry the hat to the dressing room, well away from the audience, and return with pet carriers. Felix is still trying to guess the letter. Everyone quietly helps collect the rabbits.
After the show, the man approaches Felix.
“My name’s Felix.”
The magician stares at him in genuine horror.
“I didn’t get that one either.”
Ending: an enthusiastic audience
You lift a rabbit with both hands and place it in the front-row man’s lap.
“Would you hold this, please?”
He steadies the animal. You give another rabbit to the woman beside him. A third to her neighbour. Felix understands and starts helping.
A minute later, there are eight spectators and eight very busy pairs of hands. The other rabbits have settled in the baskets and on the silk scarves. The hat is quiet.
Felix bows carefully.
People smile. Nobody claps.
He bows a little deeper.
“Bravo,” says the woman holding the fluffiest rabbit. “But don’t lean over so far. There’s another one falling out of your pocket.”
You catch it and take a bow as well. For the first time tonight, your bow produces nothing.
The audience stands. Slowly, supporting their rabbits. Felix watches his first standing ovation without a single clap and plainly cannot decide whether he likes it.
You take the hat to the dressing room and return with pet carriers. One by one, the audience hands back the rabbits. The man in the front row keeps his until last.
“Lovely act. Could I have an autograph?”
Felix takes out a pen.
“Not yours,” says the man, holding his programme out to the rabbit.
Ending: the new company
“No more tricks,” you announce. “We’re improvising.”
You put the hat on the floor. Felix removes his glittering waistcoat and lays it on a stool. A rabbit immediately occupies it.
You and Felix take two empty chairs at the side. The rabbits, baskets and scarves have the stage to themselves.
One rabbit climbs onto the stool. Another tugs at the dangling waistcoat. The first slides down with it onto a soft heap of scarves, springs up and starts climbing again.
The audience laughs. A few people clap. New performers emerge from the hat.
“The company’s expanding,” Felix observes.
You say nothing. A rabbit pulls a banana out of his hat. Nothing magical about that: Felix put it there before the show in case he missed dinner.
People get their phones out. While they are filming instead of clapping, you pick up the hat and take it to the dressing room, well away from the audience. Then you return to your chair. There will be no more additions to the company. The existing cast is still busy with the scarves.
Another rabbit climbs onto the stool. It sits perfectly still, ears towards the audience.
Felix leans over to you.
“Knows how to hold a pause.”
The rabbit turns its back on him.
“Still,” Felix adds, “needs to learn to work with others.”