There is no god and I am proof.

Sunday, 7 December 2008

It's totally hilarious

A band is on stage. They are about to start playing. The manager is up there and is about to introduce them.

Manager: May I present...the John Wayne Experiment!

Frontman: We're not called that anymore.

Manager: What?

Frontman: We're not called that anymore.

Manger: What are you called, then?

Frontman: We haven't decided yet.

Keyboard player runs up and takes the mike.

Keyboard: I've decided, we're called the Dead President's Society!

Crowd cheers.

Frontman: I've told you we're not called that!

Keyboard: And I've told you, we are!

They scuffle, manager breaks it up.

Manager: Does it really matter what you're called?

Frontman: Actually, yes. Yes it does matter, because we're called Club Armstrong.

Manager: No, you're not.

Frontman: Why not?

Keyboard: Cause we're not poofters that's why not!

Manager: I won't have homophobia in this band!

Keyboard: Oh yeah, and who's going to stop me? Your boyfriend?

Manager: Clarence is a pacifist and you know that!

Keyboard: Sorry. I overstepped the mark.

Manager: Yes. Well.

They look at the floor. Shot of the crowd looking confused.

Manager: Will you accept a hug from an old homosexual?

Frontman: I...I think we'd all like that.

They all hug.

Right, that was a proper script. I've proved to myself that I can still write and that's good. I actually thought that bump on the head had made me not be creative anymore. Or creative in a different way.

I have no fears except of people lurking around my house.

Like, totally a blog post

I have just watched Morris Dance Off. It was great and now a short script by esteemed writer John Evans. He is trying to write without stopping, and I think this will go well for him.

Janice: Hello, Janice.

Janice: Talking to yourself? Again Janice?

Janice: I couldn't help it. It was the only path left.

Enter Tyrone.

Tyrone: But not the only path for me.

They embrace.

Janice: When-

Tyrone: As soon as I heard about-

Janice: No! Don't-

Tyrone: About the email.

Janice: Noooooooo! No one was supposed to know!

Tyrone: Janice, it's out there and it's true.

Janice: How can it be, when I'

Tyrone: I'm sorry.

John has started writing in a perculiar style. I think it's very easy comedy to write for me, this talking without saying anything much style. I've already done a sketch like this, but I think that this one is going to have to be last one. Ideas are probably better than just rambling.

Unless of course BBC comedy likes rambling.

Please buy my script BBC. Please!

Monday, 1 December 2008

A Drama

This is part of the Foot Theatre thing, but if that falls through it's still usable as a script.

Janice: But, RICKY!

Ricky: But nothing, Janice. I'm going.

Janice: RICKY! Don't go. Don't go RICKY!

Ricky: I'm sorry, Janice, I'm sorry. But we all gotta go sometime. My times now.

Janice: You think that Ricky, but I know you feel different. 

Ricky: Janice, I love you.

Janice: Then why don't you stay?

Ricky: another woman...yeah that'll do.

Janice: But...but why?

Ricky: I know it, Janice. I know it.

Steven: Hello chaps!

Ricky: Fuck off, Steven.

Janice: Yeah, Steven.

Exit Steven.

Ricky: What a nob.

Janice: What were you saying?

Ricky: I was saying Janice...that I love you!

Janice: Oh, RICKY!

Foot Theatre

Woooh. Ideas.

Under the Sea. A little bit gay.

Space. Already been done, but it could be good.

In the City. A gangster play. That sounds amazing. I'm going to write that, then. Oh wait, that requires a big cast of people. Not feet.

I shall instead do a parody of Television.