Feel the Fear (and Laugh Anyway): A Comedy of Courage

Susan Jeffers:  

Spotlight on Susan Jeffers, standing at the edge of the stage in a warm, elegant glow.

SUSAN JEFFERS:
Welcome.
You didn’t come here to be perfect.
You came here to live.
And living means fear.

Not just the big, obvious fears like failure or rejection—
but the quieter ones that whisper:
“What if I’m not good enough?”
“What if I try… and still fall short?”

Here’s the truth:
You will never fully eliminate fear from your life.
But you can learn to dance with it.
Or—if you’re like the characters you’re about to meet—
trip over it, roast it onstage, scream down a slide called You’ll Handle It,
and say “YES!” anyway.

So sit back, laugh loud, and watch five wonderfully flawed humans
prove what I’ve known all along:
You don’t need to wait until you feel ready.
You just need to feel the fear—
…and do it anyway.

Let the comedy begin.

(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)

Scene 1: “The Fear Olympics”

Inspired by Susan Jeffers’ Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

Setting: A grand, over-the-top Olympic arena, but instead of athletes, personified Fears and neurotic humans compete in ridiculous “fear events.” The stadium is buzzing with comically anxious energy — twitchy audience members, over-caffeinated coaches, and commentators who over-explain everything.

[Lights up. Arena booming with fanfare. A massive banner unfurls:]
“WELCOME TO THE FIRST ANNUAL FEAR OLYMPICS – WHERE EVERYONE LOSES THEIR NERVES!”

[Cue Olympic-style theme, but off-key and weirdly fast-paced.]

Commentator Booth

ANNOUNCER (TINA FEY):
Hello and welcome to the Fear Olympics! I’m your host, Tina Fey — here to narrate the nervous breakdown of the century. Next to me is my co-host, a man who once cried into a gluten-free pizza because someone texted “k.” Say hi, Steve Carell.

STEVE CARELL (OVEREXCITED):
Hi, Tina! I’m literally shaking! Not because I’m excited, but because I just remembered I forgot to turn off the stove… in 2008. LET’S MEET THE CONTESTANTS!

Parade of Fears

[Marching band of therapists plays offbeat jazz. Fears enter one by one like deranged mascots.]

TINA:
First up, the reigning champion: Fear of Rejection! Wearing last year’s crown of dried text bubbles and unread emails.

STEVE:
Ooooh, he’s looking nervous. Ironically, he’s afraid the crowd won’t like him.

TINA:
Next up: Fear of Public Speaking. This contestant tried to submit their appearance via PowerPoint but accidentally emailed their diary instead.

STEVE:
Here comes the crowd-pleaser: Fear of Success. Yes, she just sabotaged her own parade float. It burst into flames five minutes ago.

TINA:
And finally, the one we all know too well: Fear of Not Being Perfect. She’s been redoing her walk for an hour.

Event 1: The “Worst-Case Scenario Hurdles”

[Contestants line up. The track is littered with exaggerated props: tax bills, mirrors, toddlers with questions.]

TINA:
First challenge: visualize your worst-case scenario while jumping through literal flaming hoops.

STEVE (narrating):
And they’re off! Fear of Rejection just tripped over a hypothetical “What If They Laugh?” and is now curled up mid-lane texting their therapist.

TINA:
Fear of Success is sprinting... backward. She's yelling “I’m not ready!” while tossing opportunities into the crowd.

STEVE:
Fear of Public Speaking is whispering affirmations… into a megaphone… that’s unplugged. Classic.

[Cut to Keanu Reeves in the stands. Calm, serene. Drinking chamomile tea. A single sweat bead rolls down his temple.]

KEANU (muttering):
What if… I’m only pretending to be chill?

Event 2: “Overthink-a-thon”

[A giant spinning wheel labeled “LIFE DECISIONS.” Contestants must choose one at random and then overanalyze it live on stage.]

STEVE:
Up first: Fear of Commitment. She spins the wheel... and lands on: “Should I adopt a dog?”

TINA:
Oh wow. She’s already asking, “But what if it dies someday and I’m left hollow?” Strong start.

[The arena quiets. Fear of Commitment stares at a picture of a dog. Slowly cries. Audience applauds.]

STEVE (wiping a tear):
Powerful. Very emotionally fragile. A true pro.

Mid-Arena Coaching Meltdown

[Ken Jeong rushes in wearing a headset, glittery cape, and fake clipboard. He screams inspirational gibberish while throwing stress balls into the crowd.]

KEN JEONG:
YOU! YES YOU! YOU IN SECTION FEAR B! YOU CAN DO IT! UNLESS YOU CAN’T. BUT THAT’S OKAY TOO. EITHER WAY, WE’RE ALL DYING EVENTUALLY! YEAHHHHH!

TINA:
That was either motivational… or a cry for help disguised as interpretive shouting.

STEVE:
I love him. I feel seen.

Cutaway: Emma Thompson in “Fear-Free Zone”

[We cut to a serene glass box off to the side labeled “Fear-Free Zone.” Emma Thompson sips wine and reads poetry aloud while side-eyeing the chaos.]

EMMA THOMPSON (dry):
Everyone’s running about fearing rejection, but I fear being too magnificent. It’s exhausting.

[She sips. Ponders. Glares at a passing intern.]
Bring me a snack. Or don’t. I’ll emotionally manage either way.

Final Event: The “You Can’t Handle It” Gauntlet

[Contestants must walk through a hallway of projected fears: breakups, job interviews, awkward hugs, voicemail icons.]

TINA:
This is it. The final event. The heart of Jeffers’ book: the belief that “I can’t handle it” is the root of all fear.

STEVE:
Each contestant must face their most ridiculous imagined outcome and realize... they didn’t die. Yet.

[Fear of Rejection walks. A robotic voice whispers, “They’re judging you.” Fear shrugs. Keeps walking. The projection fades.]

TINA:
Oooh! Fear of Not Being Perfect just tripped, apologized, then made a dance out of it. That’s what we call spiritual growth, baby!

STEVE:
And Fear of Success… is... crying into a trophy. Beautiful.

Curtain Close

[Confetti falls. A banner drops: “EVERYONE SURVIVED.”]

TINA (smiling):
Well, folks — turns out fear never left the stadium. But neither did courage. And sometimes, they sit in the same seat.

STEVE (quietly):
And maybe we can handle more than we think.

[Ken Jeong leads the entire cast in a cha-cha line of empowerment. Keanu finally screams from the crowd:]

KEANU:
I FEEL THE FEAR… AND I’M DANCING ANYWAY!

[Blackout. Applause. Cue a cheesy jingle titled “What If You Can?”]

Scene 2: “The ‘Maybe Later’ Support Group”

Setting: A dimly lit church basement. Folding chairs in a circle. Bad coffee in the corner. A wrinkled sign on the wall reads:
“W.E.A.K.: Worriers, Excusers, Avoiders, and Kick-the-Canners — Tuesdays @ 7”

We open with the group mid-meeting. A whiteboard says:
“This Week’s Topic: Doing Literally Anything.”

Characters

• Emma Thompson – group leader, elegant but exasperated, always drinking something herbal.
• Steve Carell – overly eager to improve, but terrified of commitment.
• Tina Fey – sarcastic, self-aware, armed with 14 to-do lists and a fear of starting any of them.
• Ken Jeong – keeps signing up for new hobbies he’ll never begin.
• Keanu Reeves – again the Zen one, here “just observing” but quietly panicking under his breath.

[Lights up. Everyone is seated. A long pause. Nobody speaks. The silence stretches into painful absurdity.]

EMMA (sipping her eucalyptus tea):
Well. That’s thirty-seven minutes of focused stillness. Let’s call that progress.

STEVE:
Wait… that wasn’t the icebreaker?

TINA:
I thought it was a staring contest with our regrets.

KEN (gesturing wildly):
I’ve been ready to go since I walked in here! I almost emailed my cousin about my screenplay idea!

EMMA:
You... almost emailed?

KEN:
Well, I clicked “compose.” Then I googled, “how to write without fear.”
(beat)
Ended up on a BuzzFeed quiz: “What Type of Avoidant Procrastinator Are You?”

KEANU (calmly):
I was “Enigmatic Ice Cube.”

TINA:
I got “Emotionally Constipated Flamingo.”
(sips coffee)
Which is also my aura color.

“Sharing Circle of Stuckness”

EMMA:
Right. Let’s begin with “What You Avoided This Week.” Steve?

STEVE (guiltily):
I was supposed to start a blog called Bold & Brave Me, but instead I made a Pinterest board titled Mild Regrets and Warm Soup.

TINA:
That’s actually very on-brand.

STEVE:
Thank you.

EMMA:
Tina?

TINA (pulling papers):
I rewrote my book title nine times. It’s now called:
Feel the Guilt, Overthink It Anyway, and Maybe Eat a Muffin.

KEN (snapping):
Oh, you’re productive. I made matching Instagram handles for six imaginary businesses.
@KenYouBelieve, @ZenKenDen, @JustKenThings—

KEANU:
@Ken-siderTherapy.

KEN:
That’s… that’s brilliant. I’m not even mad.

EMMA’S ACTIVITY: “The Decision Box”

[Emma pulls out a shoebox labeled: DO NOT OPEN — unless you want clarity.]

EMMA:
Inside are slips of paper with simple, achievable actions. Pick one. Do it. Or stare at it until your bones erode.

[Everyone hesitates like it’s radioactive.]

STEVE (grimacing):
I’m not emotionally equipped for cardboard ultimatums.

TINA (draws a slip):
“Book the dentist appointment.”
(looks horrified)
Oh God. It’s happening.

KEN (draws):
“Pitch your idea to one person.”
(grabs inhaler)
What if they hate it?

EMMA:
What if they don’t?

KEN:
That’s somehow worse.

Group Spiral

[The group spirals into overlapping what-ifs. Lights dim slightly. A slow spotlight on their anxious rants.]

STEVE:
What if I commit, and then I’m stuck?

TINA:
What if I succeed and everyone expects more from me?

KEN:
What if I try and fail, and then I’m haunted by my own effort?

KEANU (serenely):
What if the effort is the freedom?

[They all pause.]

TINA (squinting):
That sounded profound, but I also think it’s from a Peloton ad.

Mini Breakdown / Mini Breakthrough

[Everyone slumps. Silence again. Emma sips. Then finally…]

EMMA:
Here’s the truth: You don’t need to stop being afraid to take the first step.
You just need to accept that fear is the price of admission for the life you want.

[A long silence. Then—]

STEVE (quietly):
So we don’t need to wait until we’re ready?

EMMA:
You’ll never feel ready. That’s the secret.

TINA:
What if I half-arse it?

EMMA:
Then you’ll be halfway to somewhere real.

Group Action Challenge

[Emma pulls out a glittery wheel labeled: “SPIN TO DO.”]

EMMA:
One action. Today. Right after this. No thinking. No marinating in what-ifs. Just go.

[They all stare at it like it’s cursed.]

KEN:
Fine. I’ll call my cousin.

STEVE:
I’ll write the blog post… one sentence.

TINA:
I’ll book the dentist and maybe floss.

KEANU (rises):
I will feel the fear.
(beat)
And do it… medium-well.

[They all rise. Slow dramatic spotlight. They exit like heroes... of the emotionally constipated.]

[TINA turns back.]
Can we rename this group something cooler?

EMMA:
How about: “Courage in Progress.”

[They nod. Lights fade. Curtain closes.]

Scene 3: “The Risk-Free Amusement Park”

Setting: A bizarre amusement park where every attraction is designed to eliminate all possible risk, discomfort, or chance of failure. The park is pristine, overly padded, and absurdly safe — think Disneyland, but built by nervous parents and overthinking CEOs.

A sign at the entrance reads:
“WELCOME TO SAFETYLAND — Sponsored by Your Comfort Zone™”

Characters

• Steve Carell – dressed in full body padding, clutching a map, clearly overstimulated by even the idea of play.
• Tina Fey – wearing a helmet labeled “Emotional Safety First,” complaining loudly about the boredom.
• Ken Jeong – furiously trying to find “something risky” but keeps getting intercepted by park security.
• Emma Thompson – sipping chamomile tea, judging everything like it’s beneath her.
• Keanu Reeves – here under the radar, pretending to enjoy himself while slowly losing his mind from how fake it all feels.

Scene Opens: Entering the Park

[Soundtrack: aggressively cheerful ukulele music. A disembodied voice echoes across the park:]

P.A. ANNOUNCER (overly chipper):
Welcome, brave guests, to Safetyland, where no fear will ever be triggered, no decision will ever be questioned, and absolutely nothing will happen that might cause… growth.

STEVE (giddy but panicked):
You guys! I downloaded the park app, signed the waiver, and laminated the schedule. I am READY to do… almost nothing.

TINA:
Please tell me there’s a ride that simulates taking a risk — but doesn’t actually require me to move.

KEN (reading map):
Okay, we got “The Mildly Suggestive Ferris Wheel,” “The Carousel of Comfort,” and a food court that only serves non-spicy beige things.

EMMA:
Sounds like my second marriage.

KEANU (squinting):
Why is the “Tunnel of Uncertainty” boarded up?

PARK ATTENDANT (chipper):
Oh! That ride made people feel things. So we sealed it and replaced it with… “The Predictable Loop!”

Attraction 1: “The Carousel of Comfort”

[They all get on. Each “horse” is shaped like a therapy couch, a weighted blanket, or a giant cup of tea. The ride moves in slow, soothing circles.]

TINA:
This carousel is basically my life. Endless motion, zero direction, occasional dizziness.

STEVE (relaxing):
I feel... safely numb. Like I’m being gently massaged by denial.

EMMA:
This would be better with gin.

KEN (screaming):
We need to go faster! Let’s push it off its axis!

KEANU (deeply):
What if life is just this… forever?

Attraction 2: “The Ferris Wheel of Familiar Outcomes”

[Everyone boards. A large sign flashes: “THIS RIDE NEVER SURPRISES YOU!”]

STEVE (reading cue card):
Oh look. We get to experience a job we already hate, a relationship we’re scared to leave, and lunch from the same takeout place — forever.

TINA:
Next rotation, can I at least get mild resentment with a side of inertia?

KEN:
Nope. Park policy: All loops must end in nothing changing.

Midway Game: “The Low-Stakes Throw Zone”

[A carnival game with beanbags and huge targets. No matter where you throw, you win a tiny certificate that reads “You Tried.”]

KEN (throws wildly):
YES! I got “Safe Bet Champion”!

STEVE (whispers):
I still felt nervous.

TINA (to attendant):
Is there a prize if I throw the bag at my boss?

ATTENDANT (nervous):
Uh… please don’t disrupt the emotional equilibrium of the park.

Ken Goes Rogue

KEN (suddenly yelling):
I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!
Where’s the real fear? Where’s the “Leap of Faith” rollercoaster? The “Rejection Slide”? The “What If You’re Actually Amazing” haunted house??

EMMA:
They bulldozed all of those for the “Museum of Quiet Panic.”

KEANU:
I’ve been quietly screaming inside since the carousel.

Park Meltdown

[Ken climbs onto a bench and begins yelling. A crowd gathers. Everyone is too scared to stop him.]

KEN:
YOU GUYS! Life is supposed to be unpredictable! Messy! Sweaty! Awkward!

[He pulls out a confetti cannon and sets it off. Glitter everywhere.]

KEN:
Fear means you care. It means you’re alive. This place is just… sedation with better branding!

TINA:
Wow. You’d make a great motivational speaker at a failed clown academy.

EMMA:
I hate that I agree with him.

 Keanu’s Quiet Realization

[Keanu walks slowly to a giant fountain labeled “Wish for a Better Life.”]

KEANU (to himself):
I used to think peace meant comfort. But maybe… it means wholeness. Even with fear. Even with failure.

[He reaches in and pulls out a gold coin that reads: “Feel it. Do it anyway.”]

KEANU (smiling):
Let’s burn this place down.

Scene Closes

[They all walk toward the sealed “Tunnel of Uncertainty.” Emma kicks the door open with surprising power. Steve drops his laminated map. Tina tears off her safety helmet. Ken screams in joy. Keanu… levitates? Maybe.]

P.A. ANNOUNCER (desperate):
Wait! Please! You haven’t visited the “Mild Anxiety Maze!” It has padded walls and complimentary podcasts!

[They enter the dark tunnel anyway. Music swells. Lights dim.]

SIGN OVER THE DOOR:
“YOU CAN HANDLE IT.”

[Blackout.]

Scene 4: “The Inner Critic Roast Battle”

Setting: A comedy club called “The Brain Cellar.” Neon sign flickers:
“TONIGHT: INNER CRITIC ROAST BATTLE — No Self-Esteem Allowed!”

On stage is a brick wall, two mics, and a giant scoreboard that reads:
“YOU VS. YOU.”
Each character’s Inner Critic has taken on a weird, exaggerated form — part therapist, part insult comic, part childhood memory.

Characters

• Steve Carell – his critic appears as his high school gym teacher with a whistle and a megaphone.
• Tina Fey – hers is a snarky, eye-rolling Mean Girl in a pantsuit.
• Ken Jeong – his is an overbearing Korean auntie who appears as a floating disembodied head.
• Emma Thompson – hers is literally a statue of herself, but judgmental.
• Keanu Reeves – his is a calm Buddhist monk who criticizes him in riddles.

[Lights up. Club is packed with other people’s internal voices whispering from the shadows. The audience is literally anxiety personified — twitchy, tense, and judgmental.]

EMCEE (Susan Jeffers Projection on Screen)

SUSAN (voiceover):
Welcome, brave souls, to the Inner Critic Roast Battle, where we face the voice in our head that says, “You can’t.”
Let the heckling begin — and remember: they only win if you believe them.

Round 1: Steve vs. Coach Critic

[Steve walks up. His critic emerges in a track suit and whistle, yelling into a megaphone.]

COACH CRITIC:
Steve! You call that effort?! You couldn't commit to a high five!
Every time you try something new, you flinch like it’s a dodgeball.

STEVE (defensive):
That’s because emotions ARE dodgeballs! Surprise! Shame! Sudden joy! It’s terrifying!

COACH:
You flunked confidence in 1993 and never came back!
You made a vision board and included backup excuses!

STEVE (takes a breath):
Well guess what, Coach? I may flinch, but I still show up.
I may tremble, but I move forward.
You’re just a loud noise in gym shorts. I’ve got adult knees now.

[Crowd gasps. Scoreboard lights up: “Steve: 1, Critic: 0”]

Round 2: Tina vs. The Mean Girl Critic

[Tina approaches. Her critic struts out in heels, sipping from a judgmental latte.]

MEAN GIRL CRITIC:
Oh wow, Tina. Another idea you won’t finish?
Just like your novel, your podcast, and your sourdough starter?

TINA (sighs):
Yes, okay, I’m a starter… not always a finisher.

CRITIC:
You know what's cute? That you still think you're gonna “make a difference.”
You couldn’t even return that sweater from 2017.

TINA (pauses, then smiles):
You know what’s cuter? I’m still here. Still trying.
Still showing up to roast battles with my inner trash talker.
And by the way… I wear that 2017 sweater with rebellious mediocrity!

[Crowd cheers. Scoreboard flashes “Tina: 1, Critic: 0”]

Round 3: Ken vs. Korean Auntie Head

[Ken walks up. A glowing head in a hanbok floats down, arms crossed.]

AUNTIE CRITIC:
What are you doing with your life, Kenneth?
You went to med school for what? To make TikToks and call it “content”?

KEN:
It’s educational chaos! It counts!

AUNTIE:
You bring shame to ancestors! You procrastinate like it's a family business!

KEN (takes a bow):
Thank you, Auntie. For the inspiration.
Because every time you guilt me, I write something weird and brilliant.
I turned your judgment into punchlines —
and your disapproval into creative fuel.

AUNTIE (sputters, floats off):
You better not write this into your next play.
KEN:
Too late.

[Crowd loses it. Scoreboard: “Ken: 1, Critic: 0”]

Round 4: Emma vs. Her Own Statue

[Emma stands before a literal marble bust of herself. It speaks in a British accent so icy it creates a chill.]

STATUE:
You’re not as wise as you think.
You sip tea and drop metaphors, but you’ve been avoiding intimacy since 1988.

EMMA (folds arms):
That’s rich coming from a block of stone.

STATUE:
You hide behind your intelligence.
It’s elegant cowardice.

EMMA (slowly):
Perhaps. But I’d rather be a flawed human in motion
than a perfect sculpture gathering dust.

[The statue crumbles to dust. She steps over it in heels. Scoreboard lights up.]

“Emma: 1, Critic: 0”

Final Round: Keanu vs. The Riddle Monk

[Keanu faces a robed monk who floats above the stage. The monk speaks only in mysterious proverbs.]

MONK CRITIC:
If you leap without fear, are you humble… or just arrogant with better branding?

KEANU:
That’s… fair.

MONK:
If you are always the calm one, are you truly calm — or hiding your storm?

KEANU (quietly):
I am the storm. And the stillness.

[They bow to each other.]

MONK (smiling):
Then… you no longer need me.

[The monk dissolves into gold dust. Crowd is silent — then erupts in cheers. Scoreboard explodes into fireworks.]

Closing Beat: Group Comes Onstage

[All five stand together. Susan Jeffers’ voice returns overhead.]

SUSAN (voiceover):
Your inner critic may speak…
but it doesn’t have the final word.
The mic belongs to you.

[Ken drops the mic — it squeaks instead of thudding. Laughter. Lights fade to soft spotlight. A sign rolls down from above:]

“FEEL THE FEAR — ROAST IT ANYWAY.”

[Blackout.]

Scene 5: “Yes! Fest” — The Grand Finale

Setting

A sprawling outdoor festival at twilight. Strings of rainbow lights zig-zag over food stalls labeled “TRY IT!”, “DO IT!”, and “RISK IT!”. In the distance a giant neon sign flickers:

YES! FEST — 24 HOURS OF COURAGE

The rule is simple: for one full day, every invitation—karaoke, sky-bungee, blind salsa, speed-mentoring—must be met with an enthusiastic “YES!”. Refusal triggers a blast of confetti cannons and a chorus chanting, “FEEL IT… DO IT!”

Steve Carell, Tina Fey, Ken Jeong, Emma Thompson, and Keanu Reeves enter wearing festival wristbands that read “ALL-ACCESS: HEART, MIND, SOUL.”

Opening Chaos

TINA (eyeing the crowd):
Somebody just proposed to a stranger at the espresso booth. She said “yes,” then asked his dog to officiate. This place is a TED Talk gone feral.

STEVE (clutching his laminated schedule):
I’m scheduled for a trust-fall flash-mob at 6 PM, then “Radical Honesty Karaoke” at 6:05. My Apple Watch already called 911.

KEN (vibrating with glee):
I signed up for everything. EVERYTHING. I’m about to speed-date my fear of heights, my fear of failure, and my fear of lactose. LET’S GO!

EMMA (dry):
I said yes to wearing this sequined jumpsuit. It’s riding up my skepticism.

KEANU (soft smile):
Saying “yes” is a form of surrender—like surfing chaos. Or adopting a stray emotion and naming it Frank.

Act 1: The Fear-Food Gauntlet

They arrive at a booth called “MYSTERY TACO TUESDAY (EVERY DAY)”.

ATTENDANT:
One bite, no questions. Say yes?

TINA (gulping):
Sure. How bad could —
(bites) Oh. This is… ambition with a hint of imposter syndrome.

STEVE (nibbles nervously):
Tastes like mild regret and … is that cilantro or childhood trauma?

KEN (scarfs entire taco):
It’s delicious terror sprinkled with potential. Seconds, please!

EMMA (delicately):
I suppose ingesting the unknown is poetic.
(bites)
… And mildly explosive.

KEANU (close-eyed, zen):
Flavor profile: destiny meeting digestive risk. Nice.

They high-five with taco-sauce fingers. Confetti cannons fire—success!

Act 2: Radical Honesty Karaoke

A stage shaped like an open diary. The screen scrolls random, uncomfortable truths instead of song lyrics.

HOST:
Step up, pick a beat, and belt out something you’ve never admitted aloud. Say yes?

STEVE (hops on stage, disco beat starts):
🎵 I GOOGLE MYSELF WHEN I’M LONELY! 🎵

Crowd roars.

TINA (grabs mic, hip-hop track):
🎵 I SAVE EMPTY GIFT BAGS TO FEEL ORGANIZED! 🎵

KEN (salsa rhythm):
🎵 I ONLY PRETEND TO LIKE MINDFULNESS! 🎵
(to Keanu) Sorry, dude.

EMMA (slow jazz):
🎵 I’VE USED WIT AS MY ARMOR AND KEPT LOVE AT BAY! 🎵

The audience “awws” then applauds wildly.

KEANU (spoken-word over trance beat):
“I once feared that calm was cowardice… but tonight I surf the noise.” mic drop

Scoreboard above the stage blinks: “TRUTH TOLD = POWER CLAIMED.”

Act 3: Leap of Possibly Regrettable Faith

Centerpiece of the fest: a 30-foot inflatable slide that launches participants onto a giant air pillow labeled “YOU’LL HANDLE IT.” At the top a sign glows: “JUMP FIRST, THINK LATER.”

STEVE (trembling):
Height plus velocity? My therapist calls this a “growth spurt.”

EMMA (placing a silk scarf over her hair):
I played Cleopatra at the National Theatre. Surely I can fling myself off a children’s bouncy castle.

TINA:
On three: Fear, Schmear, Yeet!

They lock hands and launch. Airborne, they scream … then laugh mid-flight. WHOOMP! They land tangled and hysterical.

KEN (already climbing for round two):
It’s like being reborn—sticky, confused, and oddly hopeful!

KEANU (descends gracefully, almost floating):
Gravity is just the universe hugging you aggressively.

Act 4: The “Yes” Wedding

Festival MC drags them to a pop-up chapel. A volunteer officiant in a glitter tux declares:

OFFICIANT:
You five have been randomly selected for the Group Commitment Ceremony! Vow to honour your next big, scary dream — in public. Say yes?

They exchange glances. Deep breath.

ALL (together):
YES!

OFFICIANT:
State your vows.

• STEVE: “I vow to publish my blog—even if only my mom reads it.”

• TINA: “I vow to finish something, even if it’s messy.”

• KEN: “I vow to pitch that screenplay—and survive the silence.”

• EMMA: “I vow to let someone love me before they earn a bibliography.”

• KEANU: “I vow to embrace impatience as much as meditation.”

Audience cheers. Bubble guns erupt. Their wrists are stamped “COMMITTED.”

Act 5: The Fear-to-Freedom Dance-Off

Night now. A massive dance floor pulses under a banner: “MOVE HOW YOU’RE AFRAID TO MOVE.” DJ spins an upbeat remix of Don’t Stop Believin’. Spotlights chase anyone standing still.

TINA (starts awkward shimmy):
I dance like a malfunctioning Wi-Fi icon—but I’m here!

STEVE (roboting badly):
Confidence at 12%, battery at 2%, still grooving!

KEN (break-dancing with zero training):
If my hip pops, that’s just fear leaving the body!

EMMA (surprisingly fierce tango with a random stranger):
Turns out elegance loves risk.

KEANU (slow-motion martial-arts-meets-moonwalk):
Every step: a yes. Every breath: permission.

The music drops. They form a circle, pull the crowd in, and shout:

ALL: “FEEL THE FEAR… AND DANCE IT ANYWAY!”

Fireworks burst into the words “I’LL HANDLE IT.” The entire festival—thousands strong—echoes the chant.

Lights fade to gold.

Epilogue

A quiet sunrise. The festival grounds are littered with confetti, discarded fears, and half-eaten ambition tacos. Our five friends sit on the air pillow, exhausted and glowing.

STEVE:
I thought courage would feel grand. Turns out it feels like mild nausea and unstoppable laughter.

TINA:
And a killer hangover of possibility.

KEN:
I’m gonna say yes to a nap.

EMMA (soft):
Yes to breakfast with feelings on the side.

KEANU:
Yes… to whatever comes next.

They link pinkies like kids, breathe in the dawn, and—without planning it—whisper together:

“I can handle it.”

Blackout. Curtain.

End of Play.

Final Thoughts by Susan Jeffers

Susan steps back onto the stage as confetti settles. The lights soften. The audience is quiet, thoughtful.

SUSAN JEFFERS:
We laugh because we recognize ourselves.
We saw our fear onstage—loud, ridiculous, dramatic.
And that’s the secret:
When we look fear in the eye with honesty and humor,
its grip loosens.

Yes, we will still doubt.
Yes, our inner critics will still whisper.
But something inside us will be louder now—
the voice that says:
“Even if I’m scared, I’ll show up.”
“Even if I shake, I’ll speak.”
“Even if I fall, I’ll get up dancing.”

Fear doesn’t disappear.
But neither does courage.

Thank you for saying yes to this show—
and maybe, just maybe,
saying yes to something bigger waiting for you offstage.

Goodnight. And remember:
You’ve always been able to handle it.

Short Bios:

Steve Carell
Steve is a lovable overthinker and self-improvement junkie. He desperately wants to “live boldly” but needs permission slips for his permission slips. His superpower? Failing publicly with charm—and trying again anyway.

Tina Fey
Tina is the queen of sarcasm and post-it notes. She's endlessly witty and wildly productive… as long as it's not something that actually matters. She fears success almost as much as she fears karaoke.

Ken Jeong
Ken is a fireball of enthusiasm with a dozen unfinished passion projects and zero chill. Whether pitching a new life plan or jumping off metaphorical cliffs, he says “yes” first and panics later. Repeatedly.

Emma Thompson
Emma hides behind sophistication and scathing one-liners. She claims she's above all this “fear talk,” yet beneath the tea and dry wit is someone secretly terrified of real connection. Also great at roasts—literally and figuratively.

Keanu Reeves
Keanu is the spiritual calm of the group—or so it seems. He speaks in poetic riddles and Zen mantras, all while quietly fighting an existential dread that he masks with sandals and silence. Still waters, deep anxiety.