By michaelcahill
| Author Notes |
Cast:
Captain James T. Kirk Science Officer Spock Medical Officer Leonard McCoy Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott Ensign Irene Galloway Laurella, a native of the planet Atlantis I'm attempting to remain somewhat true to the tone and story lines of the original series. |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
By michaelcahill
A spotlight falls upon a speaker standing before a mic stand. The stage is otherwise bare. He speaks:
Speaker
It was warm and strange once. Comfort was the order of the day. Time was a liquid pillow to float upon. The world was muffled and thought eluded me. I had no concerns. War was declared and my eviction was decreed. Where I once was welcome I now was shunned and thought of as repulsive. The enemy eagerly awaited my emergence from safety to have their way with my defenseless figure. Oh, how they scrutinized every cell of my being, pawing and prodding indiscriminately. NO! They did not ask and it was clear I had no rights in this new ... was this my home? I was placed upon a person who seemed weary but pleased with me. A measure of warmth returned. Hope returned to my mindset. And pillows too, ah yes, pillows to float upon. Most welcome were they.
Stage hands bring a flat board and stand it up behind the speaker. The speaker gives no acknowledgement. The speaker continues:
Speaker:
I don't know what it was, but I swear my pants were on fire. And Betty Lou Sue June Loretta Angela ... whoo hooo, I just had to see what she had in them drawers. I didn't rightly know what I was a gonna do with it, I just knew that ... mercy, it had to be the most wonderful, spectacular thing in all of creation. AND a great example of a little boy's natural inclination to take the wonders of creation and just decimate them and cause his own extinction ... metaphorically speaking, of course. But WOWZER, would I ever like to rest my weary head on those soft ....
A team of topless fireman rush on stage with a fire extinguisher, pause for a little dance and proceed to spray the speaker's pants with fire retardant. They follow up by placing a board on either side of the speaker. He is now enclosed on three sides. The speaker continues:
Speaker:
There used to be a thing called the Pony Express. Now those were dangerous times and a man and his horse marveled at the stars and contemplated the invention of the horseless carriage. Well ... walking on the moon gives a man pause and a hankerin' for a brewsky. So, I admit I spent some time a drinkin' and wanderin' the highways and byways' of the old west. Tweren't much of a shot though and computers made me obsolete. So I pushed the button and ate the last of the mutton. That's about the size of it I guess. Pillows tend to lose their shape in the fullness of time. Ain't much use to livin' after that.
A board rises from the stage in front of the microphone and speaker. He's now enclosed on all four sides. Whale song echoes throughout the stage. A film is projected on a screen behind what is now a wooden box on stage. In the film an animated cockroach addresses an audience of cockroaches. It appears to be a church service.
Cockroach addressing congregation:
"And God said, let man go forth and multiply ... "
The audience of cockroaches begin to fall out of the pews in hysterical laughter.
fade to black ....
| Author Notes | Write whatever I feel like? Ha ........ |
By michaelcahill
Wow! What a night. Rosie Perez smiling, naked, glistening, and the scent of hot sex in the air. Wish I could remember ...
Rosie: That was some hot lovin' ... you serious? I'll never leave youz, baby. NEVA!
Me: Uhh ... yeah, me too, darlin'.
Damn! Is this real? I wish I hadn't drank so much and could remember. I don't know what I did to ... OMG! I don't know what I did. How can I do it again?
Rosie: I'm off to work. See ya for the rematch, tonight.
Me: You bet, baby.
Should I get plastered? Of course, it's working ...
By michaelcahill
Previously, we met Pepe King, the Talking Orange Duck. He had wandered off from his home with Billy King and got lost. Billy had set out to look for him. Pepe had come upon a fisherman who decided a duck dinner would be better than fish. He'd drawn his gun and planned to shoot Pepe. Billy heard a shot ring out and ran towards the sound.
Pepe escaped the gunfire of the fisherman and set out down the road where he met Dejour, a turtle, who became his traveling companion. Billy arrived at the school and found a girl named Nancy who had encountered Pepe on the way to school and spoken with him. While the other kids distracted the teacher, Billy and Nancy set out after Pepe.
Billy
Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. Where should we look then, Nancy? You know these parts better than me. I don't know them at all.
Nancy
If I were a duck, especially an orange duck, I'd find my way to the Enchanted Goldarn Forest of the Crazy Actin' Monkey. There's nothing else around here of note.
Billy
The what? That sounds like quite a place. What's a monkey doin' in these parts anyway?
Nancy
No one's ever seen the monkey, but the story goes there was a traveling circus and the monkey escaped with the organ grinders stash of quarters and's been a livin' off 'em for all these years. I don't know why townsfolk wouldn't notice a monkey at the local mercantile buyin' bananas and all, but monkeys are clever according to what teacher told us in science class. She claims Tommy Sputum's uncle is one.
Billy and Nancy continued on, chatting away as fast friends do. Not a great distance ahead Pepe and Dejour come across a monkey doing a dance by a tree. Upon spotting them, the monkey springs up the tree and sits motionless amongst the leaves. At the same time, Dejour retreats into his shell and a sign appears before him reading "Closed due to construction". At his rear and by his left foot is a scaffold with a bucket sitting on it. A voice whispers from within the shell....
Dejour
What the bejeezus is that thing? I've never seen a human with that much hair or one that could climb a tree with such ease.
Pepe
That's no human. That's a King Kong. But Billy said they weren't related.. I saw one on T.V. with Billy I don't know what it's doing here ... Billy says it's from Skull Island. But I thought it was killed. This must be a baby. The one I saw was huge.
The monkey seemed amused by the two strangers and dropped out of the tree and approached them.
Lucy
Hi there, I'm Lucy Sprucey. What's with your buddy here, shy?
Dejour
Can't ya read, lady, no one's home. Constructions underway ... Jeesh.
Lucy
Wow, a haunted ... condoluvium of some sort. How's it going in there ghost of the host? Any idea when the master house dweller will return?
Pepe
His name is Dejour. He's just a bit suspicious and cautious and safety firstish is all. He's a great guy you'll soon find. I'm Pepe. We're trying to find my owner Billy King. Dejour here knows the area. Maybe you know a good place to start looking.
Lucy
You've found it. They call this place The Enchanted Golden Forest of the Crazy Actin' Monkey
Lucy began to dance what could only be described as a crazy actin' dance. Before long, she was in the trees swinging and singing. Pepe was quite taken with it and Dejour poked his head out and appeared moderately amused as well. After a short while, Lucy returned to them.
Pepe
You were certainly actin' crazy, I'll give you that. I might even call your performance enchanting considering your outgoing personality and charming ways. But, I don't see anything golden. Is there gold in the forest? Why is it called golden?
Lucy
If you're here tonight, you'll see why. It isn't golden during the day nor is it enchanted despite your gracious compliments of which I humbly thank you. No, you'll understand this evening if you aren't afraid that is. And you Dejour, are you up for an adventure?
Dejour had closed shop by now, the under-construction sign and scaffolding had all been put away ... somewhere and head and legs were fully extended.
Dejour
Why, of course. What makes you think I wouldn't be up for an adventure. I think I'm plenty colourful enough to fit right in.
The colours on Dejour's shell began to light up in random order and tones accompanied them. He sounded much like a pipe organ though no tune was discernable. It delighted his friends, new and old.
Lucy
Then it's settled. We have a date for an adventure.
The three of them entered the forest heading for Lucy's home therein. They were long out of sight by the time Billy and Nancy came upon the scene.
Nancy
Well, here it is.
Billy
Are ya' kiddin' me? This just looks like any old forest to me. A bunch of trees and some who knows what in the darkness. What's enchanted about this? It sure isn't golden.
Nancy
I've heard enough tales to stay out here if you want to go take a look for yourself. The way I've heard it told, when the clock strikes twelve, it all begins. That's all I know.
Billy
Sounds like a keen adventure to me. Let's find out.
Nancy
I have to add, Billy. They also say that no one who enters is ever heard from again. No, I think I'd just as soon watch from out here.
Billy and Nancy fell into silence as they contemplated all that Nancy had shared. Finally, Billy spoke.
Billy
There's a pretty good chance that this is where Pepe went. I have to find out. I can't just walk away not knowing. What if he's in trouble?
Nancy
I can't let you go in there alone, Billy. But I sure don't want to go in there at all.
They again fell into silence. In the distance, they heard the howl of a monkey. They both looked at each other with wonder on their faces.
To be continued
| Author Notes |
Link to part I click HERE Pepe King, The Talking Orange Duck Part I
Link to part II click HERE Pepe King, The Talking Orange Duck Part II |
By michaelcahill
Previously, we met Pepe King, the Talking Orange Duck. He had wandered off from his home with Billy King and got lost. Billy had set out to look for him. Pepe had come upon a fisherman who decided a duck dinner would be better than fish. He'd drawn his gun and planned to shoot Pepe. Billy heard a shot ring out and ran towards the sound. We continue now as we find out the result of the shot and Pepe's fate...
As Old Man Elder takes a bead on Pepe, Pepe makes a a run for ... nowhere in particular. Pepe, seeing no suitable hiding place, is simply testing the theory that it's harder to hit a moving target. Elder misses badly with his first shot and cocks for another. He's distracted by a quacking cacophony overhead and looks up to see a noisy flock of ducks in formation.
General Boisterousness
Formation troops, stay in formation! Seems we've got a bit of a situation developing. Load up.
Corporal Overdoing
Tighten up now. Ready to drop.
A chorus rings out from the sky
Duck formation
We don't know but we've been told
It hits 'em hot and then turns cold
they can't explain the awful smell
the people run ... no one to tell
we fly as one a squirting fright
but wasn't us who picked a fight
With that they swoop down towards Old Man Elder who looks on in amazement. All he can hear is an incredible racket of quacking. They swoop close overhead and let go an amazing squirt in unison, covering Elder from head to toe. Elder learns then and there, ducks don't poop, they squirt. Pepe runs over the hill laughing as a frantic Billy comes upon the scene.
Billy
Have you seen a cute duck happen to ... goodness, what happened to you?
Old Man Elder
I was ambushed, I tell ya. A whole flock of crazy ducks, quackin' like a bunch of crazy ducks, I tell ya. A cute duck? What the heck ... Ducks look cute on Grammy Elder's Wedgewood dinner plates. Have I seen a ... do I look like I find anything about a duck cute?
Billy
Please, sir, my duck, Pepe, wandered off this morning. I fear he's lost. He's orange and very handsome and he waddles when he walks and he ....
Old Man Elder
Okay! Okay! He'd be in my oven if'n it weren't for those damn ... well, orange ya say? Yeah, the lucky cuss was skiddadlin' up over the hill last I saw him ... lucky cuss. Damn ducks ....
Billy mumbles a thanks as he scrambles up the hill leaving Old Man Elder crusting 'neath the rising sun. Pepe puts a decent amount of distance between himself and the dangerous old fisherman by the time he slows to a waddle. He comes across a turtle with a multi-coloured shell ambling along.
Pepe
Mercy, I've never seen so many colours in one place before. I'm Pepe. I've just escaped certain death. Who are you?
The turtle snaps his head and feet inside his shell and a 'gone fishin' sign pops out the rear. Pepe is startled at first, but then starts to laugh. Slowly, the turtle pokes his head out to investigate.
DeJour
Funny? You find something funny? Let me in on it. I could use a good laugh. I've been on this journey for about a hundred years or so and it doesn't seem all that amusing to me....
Pepe
I thought you're sign was meant to amuse ... I ah ... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger you. Your shell is amazing. I had no idea they came in such dazzling colours ... anyway, I meant no harm.
Dejour
Well, it's a simple diversionary tactic is all. They read the sign and think no one's at home. No harm done, I'm Dejour, my former master's cruel sense of humour as are the colours. He called me Soup Dejour and found it quite hysterical. I've no clue what he meant. These colours make it impossible to be inconspicuous though. I find nothing amusing about that. You find them striking though, huh?
Pepe
Oh, yes, just breathtaking. Why, nothing I've seen compares. Where then are you off to?
Dejour
I awoke in an empty yard long ago, centuries I would say. It seems some calamity had taken my owners away. In any case, I exited my former home and for millennia I have sought a new one. Perhaps you have a suggestion.
Pepe
Oh, but indeed I do. Master Billy King would be delighted to meet you I'm sure. He's just the best. He made me my own pond and feeds me like a ... well, like a duck I suppose. I'm lost though. I'm seeking the school where I hear I might find out how to find the Kings residence.
Dejour
Interesting. I would accompany you then. Perhaps I can be of assistance and maybe this young King may find me dazzling as well.
Pepe and Dejour set out down an overgrown pathway. On a more traveled road, Billy comes upon rundown school house. Children of various ages are outside playing. A teacher strolls up to him dressed mostly in black. She dons a hat adorned with every fruit Billy knows of and a couple he's never seen before. He can't take his eyes off it.
Miss Stern Lecture
Young man, why aren’t you in school? Where are you from. I must notify the authorities. Your parents certainly aren't in approval of this truancy.
Billy continues to stare at her hat.
Miss Stern Lecture
Well?
Billy
Ah ... well, ma'am, you see, my duck wandered off and I'm tryin' to find him before he gets into mischief see? He's not familiar with the ways of the world, being a pet and all. He's pampered and cared for and knows nothing of the wild and survival of the fittest, you see.
Miss Stern Lecture
So, familiar with Darwin then? Evolution and Origin of the Species? I usually save that for the seventh graders and you don't look to be more than fifth grade at best. A clever distraction though. What's your name boy?
Billy
It's Billy, ma'am. Billy King.
Now, Nancy Pants has been eavesdropping along with the other children in the yard and the name King perks her ears. She bustles over to where Miss Lecture and young Billy converse.
Nancy Pants
'Scuse me, Miss Lecture, but are you of the King family that what owns Pepe the Orange Duck by chance?
Billy
Why yes. You've seen him?
Nancy Pants
Yes. I encountered him at the bus stop and offered to bring him here. We's a studyin' on Kings and all. Miss Lecture here can tell ya'. The bus driver's an unfriendly sort and slammed the door on him. Last I saw of him.
Miss Stern Lecture
Ahem! I believe I'm conducting this inquiry, Nancy. I must inquire though how you knew what was on the mind of a duck ... and an ORANGE duck at that?
Nancy Pants
Well, Miss Lecture, I simply went by what Pepe told me. He told me 'bout how he'd wandered off and got hisself lost and how he was of the King family and then I told him how we was a studyin' on kings and how he ought to come here to ask you about where they lived and all .....
Miss Stern Lecture
Ahem, ahem, ahem! Goodness me. Talking orange ducks. Why, I'm a mind to ....
Billy
Please, ma'am. He could be in all sorts of trouble. I have to find him. It's like I told you, he doesn't know the ways of the world. He's a pampered duck, see? I must find him.
Nancy Pants
Let me help him. I know these woods like the back of my toes.
All of the children have gathered to watch the drama unfold and are throwing their two cents in.
Child 1
Let 'em go, Teach. The duck needs 'em.
Child 2
Yeah. What's one day missin' merry old England. They's all dead for a million years anyway.
Quite a racket ensues as the kids admonish their teacher to let them go search for Pepe. As this goes on, both Billy and Nancy Pants slip away unnoticed.
To be continued...
| Author Notes |
Here is a link to part 1 in case you missed it, click HERE Prose potlatch work some more on your fantasy story, or write a 4th of July jury--real fiction~Debbie |
By michaelcahill
Scene I
A small boy bursts through a screen door, down the rickety wooden porch and out to a small pond.
Billy King
Pepe! Where are you? Pepe!
Narrator
Pepe was clearly not in the pond. The pond was small and there were no hiding places. Billy saw familiar footprints in the moist dirt leading to the pathway. Pepe had waddled to the pathway and gone goodness knows where. Billy set off after him.
Scene 2
Pepe waddles up to a little girl sitting on a bench waiting for the school bus.
Pepe
I seem to have lost my way. Could you direct me to the King residence? I'm hungry as a ... well, a duck would be my only reference I suppose. Some brine shrimp would hit the spot right about now.
Nancy Pants
A talkin' duck, and a orange one at that. We's a studyin' kings and all at school. They lives in merry old England from what I gather. I don't know where that is though. I don't reckon' it's nearby. I didn't know ducks talked and I ain't never seen an orange one before.
The school bus pulls up billowing smoke and kicking up dust.
Nancy Pants
Y'all could come to school if you want. Teacher knows everything there is to know about everything. She could tell you how to find the kings I'm thinkin'.
Pepe
Ahhh ... delightful. I guess this contraption is safe or mums wouldn't let their precious young ones' ride in it.
The bus door swooshes open.
Bus driver
Hop in, Nancy. I'm on a schedule. Your orange friend there will have to stay though. No livestock allowed,
Nancy Pants
Please, Mr. Nearsight, he must find the king's residence. He's ever so hungry and lost.
Bus Driver
I see ... and he told you this?
The bus driver eyes Pepe.
Pepe
Indeed, sir, she tells you the truth. Hunger is a factor and by now I'm sure young Billy is beside himself with worry.
The bus driver hears nothing but: "Quack, quack, quack." He laughs and motions Nancy on the bus and the door swooshes shut before Pepe can board.
Pepe
Well! A simple "no" would've been sufficient. Such a nice girl, polite and well-spoken. It never fails, the adults have no sense or manners either. Hmm ... what to do ... what to do.
Pepe waddles in the direction of the bus. He comes across a rabbit peeking out of a hole.
Humper
Humper at your service, kind sir. I could use a break if you've just a few moments to watch my young'uns. Lord knows where they all came from. It seems I wake up and there's another dozen. If I could just get even an hour away from them ...
Pepe
Humper? A rather amusing moniker I must say. An amusing anecdote when I have more time perhaps. I regret that I'm in a quandary at the moment dear girl. I'm lost and quite famished you see. I seek the King residence. I wandered off and lost my bearings it seems. A young girl offered to take me to school, but the operator of the transport system was rude and the opportunity was missed I'm sorry to say. Do you happen to know where school is?
Humper pops out of her hole and shakes the dust off. A whirr of bunny noise can be heard underground. She stares at the hole and shakes her head.
Humper
Actions have consequences I read somewhere. I don't know what it means, but I sure have a lot of kids. Anyway ... school, you say. Yes, that would be the minnow pond just over the hill there. A fine school to my understanding. Many a young man attends there and older men too, brushing up I suppose.
Pepe
Oh, thank you. I shall proceed directly. I'll try and find some time to give you a little rest at some point. You sure seem to have your hands full and ....
Humper wasn't paying any attention. She was batting her eyelids at a large rabbit that happened by and posed for her. She hopped off with him as Pepe was speaking.
Pepe
Or not ... it seems you are able to take a break when the mood strikes you ... well, off to school then.
Pepe waddles towards the hill and what awaits him on the other side. As he begins to descend the small hill he notices an old man fishing on the bank. He calls out to him.
Old Man Elder
What's all that racket, duck? You're scarin' the fishes. Of course, a duck diner sure sounds better than a fryin' pan full of teeny minnow.
Old Man Elder reaches over and picks up his shotgun and slowly cocks it.
Narrator
Pepe will never understand why adults are so rude. They never respond with courtesy and honestly don't seem to understand a word he says. Pepe does know what the sound of a rifle being cocked means though. He sees the rifle being raised and looks frantically around for a hiding place.
A mile or two away, Billie comes upon the bench where Pepe encountered the little girl. He hears a shot ring out in the distance. He runs towards the sound.
To be continued--
| Author Notes |
Topic: One of your characters is missing. I thought we might give something completely new to me a try--fantasy. Some guidelines are: Study classic high fantasy for useful insights. ... 2. Make sure your fictional world offers a strong sense of place. ... Avoid high fantasy clichés. ... 4. Make your characters complex and not stock types. ... Avoid the pitfalls of muddled fantasy book writing and plan ahead. ... Write fitting dialogue. ... Choose names smartly. |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Fade in:
An old studio looking to be from the fifties. There's one camera, a booth with a small crew of three. Two microphones are on a desk littered with papers and empty Chinese food containers. A couple is engaged in hushed conversation. A green light shines from a terminal in the center of the desk.
Characters:
Caitlyn Cathetura: She produces the late-night horror fest, Tales from Beyond the Universe. Her husband is the co-star.
Dimension Man: The co-star of the show. Real name, Heinous Cathetura. He sells medical supplies during the day to make ends meet.
Madame Orbs: The other star and secret girlfriend of Dimension Man.
We zoom in on the two stars unaware that they are on the air:
D-man
I just love the lips. They turned me on, I have to tell you. Wow, I could kiss them right now.
Madame O
I'm glad you enjoyed them. It sure hurt like hell getting waxed. My husband couldn't stop laughing. He said it looked like someone was sticking out their tongue at him. I guess I didn't care though once you gave them a big sloppy kiss ....
D-man
I hate that your husband gets to look at it. Damn. Laughing? What does he know? It's so sexy.
Madame O
Well, whatever you like, honey. It is kinda strange, but whatever mails the package to Tibet I always say.
The scene shifts to the control room. One of the technicians speaks to the producer.
Tech
Shouldn't I go to commercial or tell them they're on the air, Boss?
Caitlyn
Hell, no! Let the son of a bitch talk. He's signing his own death warrant with every word. Lips? That pig hasn't visited downtown in ten years the selfish bastard. Gimme the mic.
Caitlyn taps on the window. Her husband looks up shocked.
Caitlyn
You're on the air, lover boy.
Madame O
Today's film is set in the far distant future. The Earth has been abandoned long, long ago. A rag tag band of human survivors are slowly awakening from stasis as their spacecraft comes upon their destination ... Dimension Man?
D-man
Yes?
Madame O
The movie, we're introducing the movie. We're on the air.
D-man
Movie? Air? Uh ... Oh, the movie. Yes. Today's movie is set ... erm ah, Yes Madame Orbs, their dimension is Earth Junior, a film from 1949. The technology is surprisingly innovative considering the limitations. The story is ... well, interesting I would say considering the state of today's world. Let's enjoy the movie.
D-man observes the red light and leans in to Madame O
D-man
What do you suppose the old bitch overheard? Anything?
Madame O
We'll just tell her we were rehearsing a play.
D-man
Yer ... right.
Cut to the screen and the movie underway
| Author Notes |
Topic: The earth has become a toxic waste dump and is no longer inhabitable. You are one of a few chosen to relocate to a planet in a distant galaxy. Write about what happens when you arrive at the distant galaxy-try to use all 5 senses in describing it. |
By michaelcahill
Unde
FADE IN:
Undesignated time on a virtually deserted, rocky beach. Low hills are seen in the distance. Grey pervades the scene.
We come across an old man, grizzled, but seeming to be spry and with his wits intact. He walks along a shoreline of sorts with an active young child, a little girl. There's no sand or foliage to speak of and the rock-strewn beach is littered with debris and items of interest. The child picks one up and shows it to the old man. She's smiling and his smile belies the sense of melancholy in his eyes.
"What is it Grandpa?"
"Ha ... well, Dickens, that's a little hard to explain. It's kind of a long story. It's scary too. If I remember, there are dragons and evil sorcerers and witches and demons and ... well, not the kind of things a little girl in pigtails would be interested in at ..."
The little girl plops down on some kind of bench though it just serves that purpose. It's more a convenient piece of wood or siding, sitting upon a pile of bricks at a suitable height for her to seat herself upon. The old man remains standing. He begins to pace back and forth as if about to launch into a speech or give a performance. She sits upright as if in anticipation. It is clear this scenario has played out before between the two of them.
"Oh Grandpa, now you tell me the telling. Do the dragons breathe fire?"
"Aye, and ice too ... and carbon monoxide ... heh, heh, heh, but I don't suppose that would be an embellishment that would tickle you."
"Well, carbon minoxly or whatever the magic potion is must be very powerful and SCARY! Now, the telling, Grandpa. Do tell, what is this figure with the crown and what has broken off from her hand? What did she once hold? Was it a sword?"
He pauses for a moment and considers the object. He sighs softly as if it triggers a memory or has a significance to him ... he physically shakes off the mood, as though he realizes it is not the order of the day, and not the story his young charge is wiggling to hear.
"No, Dickens, not a sword at all ... something far more grand and powerful. It held a light that rivaled the sun. It was an all-seeing eye it was. Yes, an eye that shed light through the darkness. She was called The Lady of Liberty. She was the holder of freedom for the world. All who were oppressed could but look for the light shining in the darkness and go to it. Once they could see her standing in the ocean, they knew they were safe."
"Oh, Grandpa, she stood in the ocean? She never moved? She must have been grand and strong."
"Yes, oh yes. No wave or force on Earth could move her from her station. No matter the trouble one found themselves into. They would but find the light and follow it. Once in her view, they were free and NONE would dare challenge her."
"But the dragons, what about the dragons?"
"Ah, yes ... the dragons. She had the might of untold number of dragons to ward off those who would challenge her. They had powers that defy imagination. All who believed in freedom and justice were her friend. All who did not, her foe."
The old man seemed to get a spring in his step.
"The people of her nation lived as no nation had ever lived. They lived without fear, in freedom and with justice at their fingertips."
The old man turned away as though stricken. It was clear he struggled with something that kept him from continuing the story.
"Then what, Grandpa? What happened next? Why do I find this broken doll with the light missing? The telling, Grandpa. You must, now. You must get on with the telling."
He sighed deeply and turned as though age had grabbed him all at once.
"The people of the nation became unhappy. They felt like too many people were being let in. They worried that with so many people they would be forgotten and left out. Then they became suspicious of each other. They noticed that many people resembled people who had oppressed them and from whom they had fled. Many remembered a time when there weren’t so many different kinds of people. A great many people had thought for the longest time that the nation should stop rescuing people. They thought it dangerous. Finally, what they kept hidden inside in the darkest places spilled out of them in hatred. Fear became a disease that gripped the nation. One nation no longer felt like one nation. Certainly, a great many people did not approve of the Lady of Liberty and her ways. They refused to let the people who followed her light enter the nation. They were sent away. Great resentment grew across the world as the feelings of betrayal festered in the hearts of those who sought help only to be spat upon and considered unworthy. Time passed and the nation of light became dark. One day there was no light at all to find. And that is the story, Dickens. The Lady of Liberty one day simply vanished."
"Oh, Grandpa, that is such a sad story. I wish that the Lady of Liberty could've lived forever. How sad this little doll is, broken and abandoned among the debris on the ground."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Dickens. It's just a myth. Now, we best get moving to high ground. The tide will be rising. We wouldn't want to drown."
| Author Notes |
Another great topic, Debbie. Folks are missing the boat. :)) I thought for this week it would be interesting to have a dialogue between a young child and an adult--could be a parent, but doesn't have to be. Possible scenarios: A broken toy Is the moon really made of green cheese why can't I play outside after dark or any others you think of |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Act 1
Characters:
Astor Rot der Daumen: The gardener. Called "Astor" or simply, "gardener".
Mary: It isn't established exactly who she is.
Her son: We only know he is Mary's son.
Neighbors: Revealed as the story unfolds
Fade in
We open with a wide shot of a small cottage which resembles a castle in style. The camera pans over a colourful garden with a mad variety of plant, tree and floral growth. It is Spring and everything is vibrant and in bloom. An older man brushes the sweat off his brow with his sleeve and lays his shovel down. He picks up a hose and adjusts the nozzle to a fine spray. He begins to water the fruits of his labor, a small apricot tree covered in white blossoms. A mother and a little boy, her son, appear a few feet away and watch him.
Astor
I see you like to watch. You're welcome to assist young man, with your mother's permission of course.
Son
Mum, may I? May I help the gardener? He does look weary, Mum.
Mary
I don't know, son. What do you suppose he's planted there? Is that a fruit tree of some kind? I wonder if he's expecting fruit this season. Are you expecting fruit this season, gardener?
Astor
I've fertilized it with a special blend. I expect rapid growth and perhaps some fruit this year, perhaps. It is more likely that my labors will come to fruition next Spring though. The young lad seems anxious to assist. I will teach him with your permission. There's much to be learned by the toil of one's own hand.
Son
May I, Mum?
Mary's son begins to crawl on the ground sniffing like a dog. Mary smiles broadly while Astor looks on with no expression.
Mary
I guess it would do no harm if the gardener finds you to be no trouble.
Astor doesn't respond as Mary's son bolts on all fours towards the newly planted tree. His nose is nearly in the small puddles that have accumulated around it.
Son
Is it a rat? Is it a rat you've used for fertilizer? Or something bigger? A squirrel perhaps or Old Lady Dieter's Collie dog? It's the dog, no? Quite the stench it is. Yes, the dog no doubt. Or ... something bigger than that perhaps.
The son begins to sing and his mother joins in.
"Oh, you've cut off me head
and I am quite dead
but you've planted a tree
and you'll grow it with me
said the fair young maiden"
They both fall to the ground tickled with laughter. Astor ignores them and continues to water his newly planted apricot tree. A group of neighbors comes upon the scene and one of them speaks.
Neighbor man
Apricot then is it, Astor? That would hit the spot this Summer. Plenty of blossoms. Any chance for an apricot pie this year?
Astor
I'm hopeful for an apricot or two. A pie I fear will have to wait until next year.
Astor glances at Mary and her son still doubled up on the ground with laughter. He has no reaction and continues his conversation.
Astor
However, there are several trees that will produce a wonderful bounty this year. There will be pies a plenty I expect.
The neighbors all nod in approval and make small talk amongst themselves. Mary's son crawls among them sniffing and laughing. He addresses Astor.
Mary's son
You could kill every one of these people here and plant a dozen apricot trees. Wouldn't that be nice?
Astor continues to water with a slight furrow to his brow. He eyes each neighbor slowly considering the young man's words. Several bodies in varying states of decay begin to approach from throughout the garden speaking to Astor.
Female Corpse
A nice cherry pie would be delicious. I haven’t eaten a thing since you ... well, since that day. (She smiles a bloody toothless smile) Dontcha love the way the red just oozes out when you cut into it? The red ... the red flowing ... sooooo lovely ...
Astor smiles and speaks to the neighbors.
Astor
Gardening is an art and a love. You must be devoted to your craft and be willing to sacrifice for it like you would to a lover. You nourish the garden and provide it everything it needs to flourish. Yes, just like a lover.
Neighbor Woman
You make it sound so romantic. There's no denying the beauty surrounding us. You're a marvel of dedication, gardener. Yes, an artist indeed. I feel a part of this ... you make me feel a part of it.
Astor
I'm pleased you feel a part of it. I want nothing more than for you to be a part of it, for your admiration and love to help nourish it. How lovely of you.
Astor eyes her with a piercing gaze that causes her to blush. She vows in her mind to find him alone and away from this crowd. She trembles with a bit of fear mixed with an excitement she's never felt before. She looks around at her neighbors blushing and sure that they read her mind. They pay no attention to her. She looks off into the overgrown wisteria vine that acts as a tent covering the copse of apple trees nearby. It is a purple blanket and it is dark beneath it ... dark and just the place to cover a moment's abandon.
Astor
Of course, you are all welcome here anytime. I cherish the moments I can share this garden with you and have you be a part of it. Come back anytime.
Astor is looking only at the woman who contemplates the darkness 'neath the wisteria. She looks up and breathes deeply as their eyes meet. Only Astor hears the screams and moaning emanating from the dark. Only Astor notices the blood stains on his gardening tools or the rich ruby tint to the soil throughout his garden. It is a well fertilized garden indeed. The neighbors nod as they take their leave.
Neighbor Woman
I am Annabelle. I will return soon. Your garden intrigues and pleases me.
Annabelle extends her hand and Astor takes it to his cheek pulling her gently closer. He kisses her hand and then her forearm.
Astor
I work well into the evening. It is never more lovely when basking in moonlight stars peeking through through the wisteria's canopy. Til we meet again.
| Author Notes |
So... Prose Potlatchers... let's make today's topic Gardens in tribute to Debbie on Mother's Day. Not sure this is quite in the spirit of Mother's Day. LOL! |
By michaelcahill
Previously: Michael has passed away unbeknonst to him. He finds himself in an office unaware of how he got there or why he is there. He's shown to a large ampitheatre where he encounters his sixth-grade teacher. He takes a seat and she proceeds to interview him. As time passes, he begins to realize he's arrived at some kind of judgment day. Scenarios unfold before his eyes as the ampitheater transforms and crowds appear then disappear. We continue now has a scenario as just concluded. His teacher congratulates the participants as Michael agonizes over what has just unfolded:
Act IV
Fade in
Michael is slumped in his chair as Janice passes out cigars to the various cast and crew of the last production number.
Janice
Wow. Dora, you were simply regal. You actually appeared to care about the wretched creature approaching you. I don't know how you did it.
Dora
Oh, it was nothing. Hell, he was human too ... well, almost.
Janice and Dora burst into laughter joined by a joyous crew. Michael begins to redden with anger.
Michael
Yeah. Ha, ha, ha. So witty and urbane. Lots of compassion there while I sit here humiliated. I suppose that every moment of my life was just some illusion or delusion on my part. Every time I tried to do good, it was just one big crap pile of sympathy for poor pathetic me....
Janice, Dora and the others pause to listen to Michael. They stare blankly for a moment as if stunned by his response. Michael sits up in his chair a bit, seeming to await a response. The response comes in the form of even more uproarious laughter.
Janice
Yes, the world's been sooooo unkind to you. Poooooor baby.
Dora
How 'bout a dance to lift your spirits?
The laughter continues. Michael would disappear if that were possible. Janice walks towards him, rises to the tips of her toes and then alights in her chair delicately. The stage goes dark and silent.
Janice
The subject feels as though he may not be able to trust his own thoughts and feelings. His world is a topsy-turvy spinning wheel of conundrums and enigmas spinning in concentric circles spiraling out of control. Am I sputz or am I a fluvalhofel. Am I a schtuzal or a weinsterbrauten? These are the questions drinking the finest Tasmanian Devil Ale in his brain. Well?
Michael
Well what? That's supposed to make sense to me? Or should I be amused? You're telling me my perceptions are not to be trusted. My gesture for some chick in grammar school was really her gesture for me. Your saying my memory of being a somewhat cool dude is nonsense and I was really a hideous barely tolerated freak. Is there anything I remember correctly? Are you playing Freud? A big joke?
Janice
Two hungry men dig in the dirt. One pulls out a diamond, one a potato. Who is rich?
Michael
Yes. Okay, I wrote that. What does it have to do ...
Janice
It is you. All of it is you to one degree or another. A bit of truth in it all. Some, a lot of truth. By now you know where you are and what is taking place. What is your assessment?
Michael
My assessment? Of what?
Janice
You know of what?
Michael
Hmm ... okay. I honestly ended up with very little I'd have to say. I had a lot of talent, I guess I developed it to a degree. But no, I didn't pursue it anywhere near like I should. I suppose I could've been a great success. I guess the potential was there. I was a nice guy. But maybe I was afraid to be anything else, I don't know. I didn't have the whole "ambition" thing in me. I lacked drive most would say. I just couldn't see walking all over somebody to get what I wanted. I couldn't see trashing someone else for my own benefit. Well ... those are excuses, I know. For all of the gifts I was given, I ended up without a dime and I doubt anyone will remember me except a few family members and a couple friends. What do you want me to say? Fine, I failed. I took all the tools in the world and I didn't build a damn thing.
Janice
Ahhh, so that's your epitaph then: Failure? You didn't do a damn thing? You didn't grow? You amounted to nothing?
Michael
Hey, you think I like the sound of it?
Janice
Okay then. It doesn't quite match the way we assess things. But, if that's the way you see it, I guess I can't talk you out of it.
Michael
No. Wait. I'm more than willing to be talked out of it. How am I supposed to see it? I'm only human. I was born, I grew, I lived, I died and then you add it all up, right?
Janice
Yes, I suppose that is what humans do. Is that all of it then, born, lived, grew, died? How did you grow?
Michael
I don't know. It seems there's more. Grow? I made mistakes, learned. I passed on what I learned or tried to. I don't feel like a failure. Whatever I should've acquired would still be there, left behind anyway. So, what good would it have been anyway? I always thought I was a good person. I thought of myself as a nice guy, kind. I thought people saw me that way.
Janice
Oh, well, see, now you're looking at things from our point of view. We DO see things a little differently you can imagine. All of this is in your mind, of course. Things you value when human, wealth, fame and the like mean nothing here. We are concerned with the spirit.
Michael
Oh, maybe there's hope for me then.
Janice
You're about to find out, dear Michael. It was a great pleasure to be your teacher and a small part of your life. This was fun as I knew it would be. Walk through the door now. They are all waiting for you.
Michael
They? Who is ...
Janice
Your fellow spirits, Michael. Who else?
Michael stands and walks towards the door. He looks back and sees nothing but a hazy mist. He opens the door. A roaring cheer fills him as he enters. He can't say he hears it, he feels it. He feels spirits familiar and unfamiliar surrounding him. The feeling is love. Love is everywhere, inside and out. One of them greets him. It's like speech, but not audible.
Spirit
Welcome, Michael, welcome. Well done, so very well done!
Fade out
| Author Notes |
Note: The picture of Mary Kay Letourneau is just for fun and for the folks who might recognize her. It has NOTHING to do with the play. Just a bit of twisted humour. :)) Link to part I click HERE Link to part II click HERE Link to part III click HERE Prose Potlatch: Write a piece in any format. The top c, GROWTH, however you wish to interpret it. Anything from a inspirational story to a garden to a script about someone's expanding waistline. Any tips or suggestions on my continuing crash course on script writing would be appreciated. You've all helped a great deal. I'm feeling a little more comfortable, but I still feel like I'm mostly writing a simple story. I need to be more scripty and less short story-y. LOL |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
We see an outside shot of a rundown bar. The neon sign flickers. The bar is called: Bertha's Irish Pub and a Rub. The license for massage fell through, so nothing but drinks can be found inside. The "B" and the "a's" are burned out, so at night the sign flashes: "erth"
We're inside now. It's dingy and not well attended. In the corner a heated discussion bordering on an argument ensues. It seems they are merely drunk and not arguing after all.
Liam
She was gorgeous in her prime though. Built like an evergreen.
Darby
Aye, just like an evergreen, with hair like a treetop reaching for the sun.
O'Shea
Reachin' for the sun and breathin' in the cool air of an Autumn breeze ... and her toes dancin' in the clear water, splashing as if to beguile the forest with her perfection.
O'Shea grabs the pitcher and overfills the mugs on the table. The three of them clank their glasses together.
In unison
To the EPA!
They drink long as though this may be their last. Across the bar an older woman in a tattered red dress sways on a barstool as she whispers hoarsely to the bartender.
Madrenatura
Who are those boys over there, Padre? They seem like a fun lot. They do go on though. What are they getting on about?
Padre
Can't say. Something about the EPA, whatever that is. They patter on about forests and clean air and water. Hasn't been the like of any of it since the dark Obama days. My favorite is blatherin' about traipsin' around without masks on. For God's sake, I'm afraid they'll get snookered up and give it a go. Business is slow enough without three dead Irishman advertising my stoop.
Madrenatura
Where do they get these notions?
Padre
Oh, according to the sage under the table over there, the EPA was once a mighty organization that made businesses keep the water and air clean. Get this, they fined corporations for dumping waste in rivers and even for putting smoke in the air. HA! Yeah, right. I'm sure the rich bastards ponied up every dime of it. The drunken old coot says you could see the mountains from right outside the door. Hell, I can't see the door if I take two steps back.
Madrenatura
Well, Padre, everyone has a once upon a time tale. I guess there's no harm in a few EPA boys tying one on and pretending they once mattered. I'm not one to burst their bubble.
Madrenatura shuffles over to the table where the EPA boys are carrying on and speaks
Madrenatura
Here's to you boys!
She lifts her glass and light shines from it illuminating a window. Outside the window snowcapped mountains can be seen in the distance.
Madrenatura
There was a time when the EPA kept this Earth beautiful and safe for all the people to enjoy. Lift your mugs to the good old days.
O'Shea
Here's to you, Lady. And damn that Donald Trump. He's the one that caused this!
Madrenatura
What? I should have known you were a bunch of Libtard crackpots. Sure, blame the natural cycles of the Earth on Donald Trump. How typical.
The bartender calls for silence as he turns up the T.V. We focus in on the T.V. now as Donald Trump fills the screen.
Donald Trump
I told you I'd come through for you and once again I have. Oil has been discovered right here in the U.S of A. I can stop bombing the Middle East and get to drilling on home soil. All you tree huggers and your crying. We've found the mother of all oil fields right below Yosemite Deadwood Forest. I guess it's about time, PRIME MINSTREL TRUDEAU, TEAR DOWN THAT WALL!. Looks like Canada may want to make friends after all.
| Author Notes |
I went REALLY far off the beaten path with this. SORRY. But I did address the issue of Trump eliminating the EPA. (I think) LOL. I just read that Trump wants to eliminate the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency.) I would really like to know what you think of that-can't wait to read them. I usually keep commentaries around 350 words. That's generally what newspapers will allow--at least in this area~Debbie |
By michaelcahill
Act I
Fade in
It is cold as winter sets in. The cave of the Wolf's Tribe provides some shelter from the elements, but for the clan winter means death and starvation. It is a time before the discovery of fire. Fire is often found and used, but making fire is a skill unknown to man at the time.
A man dressed in clothing unknown and strange to them walks upon the scene. They are struck with fear and awe. He is from the distant future, 2017 to be exact, and carries a small overnight bag. He addresses the clan:
Carl Sanderson
Hey, what's up cave dudes? I'm like here to give you all a little boost in your development. I'm not God or anything, or even one of your Gods. Just a dude with a pocket ... erm, uh ... an overnight bag full of miracles for ya.
Gork
We not mean to displease. I leader. Take me. Clan not responsible. I am at blame.
Carl
Yeah, no worries there, pal. I'm a nice God-like dude. Just bringing some good stuff for ya, that's all.
Carl waves his hand in the air in what he feels might be a peaceful way and giggles a little bit. Gork smiles and nods to the clan.
Gork
He is friend. He smiles on us. He brings gift.
Carl
Yeah, that's the ticket.
Carl reaches into the bag and takes out a Bic lighter and some newspaper. The clan is amazed. He then grabs some sticks and branches. He places the sticks and branches over the paper and lights the paper. A nice campfire is blazing shortly. The clan is astonished. He then proceeds to teach them more practical ways to make fire, and other things to improve their lot. In the morning, he is gone.
Gork
Carl, the Miracle Man, is gone now, but he will always be remembered in every campfire.
Fade out
Act II
Fade in
It's 2017 and we are in a hospital in Tel Aviv, Israel. The Israeli's have been hit hard and the casualties are numerous, more than the available staff can handle. Bombs are continuing to pepper the landscape and they are nearby. A woman walks into the hospital. She appears to be dressed in lights of varying colours. The hospital staff is astonished and fearful. As she places a small box over each patient their screams of pain grow silent. Many of them sit up in their beds looking at limbs that were bleeding, now healed. She goes to the window and points the box outside. The sky fills with light and there is an eerie silence. The sound of bombs is no more. She addresses the people in the hospital:
Martha
I'm from the future, though there is no such thing. But that is how you'll understand it. I am here to assist you in your development.
A young woman in heavy bandages rises.
Woman
Where did she go? I am healed and the fighting has stopped. It's a miracle. I do not understand.
Fade out
| Author Notes |
Prose Potlatch challenge: It's spring, a week after Easter, a time of technological advances coming faster than we can keep up. I thought this would be a good week to write about Miracle. It can be about a miracle, what it takes to be a miracle, a miracle you want to happen in the future, or any other related topic. Write in whatever form you feel meets the needs of what you want to convey. |
By michaelcahill
recap: In acts I and II we discovered that Michael has apparently passed away, unknown to him. He has now moved on and is being questioned by his sixth grade teacher who is there for no reason he can figure out. The questions and answers are producing surprises for Michael. Events in his life may not be exactly as he remembered them or claims them to be. We continue now as Michael finds an apology is in order:
Act III
Fade in
Michael stands intending to address Old Lady Bickersfield. His eyes are watery and his entire demeanor is one of shame and defeat, slumped shoulders, bowed head from which he peers with half-closed eyelids.
Michael
Ms. Bickersfield, all I can do is apologize. I was a stupid kid. I didn't know any better ... I was foolish ... and, well, I guess foolish is something that stayed with me because ... Hey, where is she. She was sitting right there. Where did she go?
Janice
She's not there, Michael. These are memories. This is what you remember but you have never stopped to consider your memory. You don't stop to consider often, no?
Michael
I wouldn't say that, but then, you wouldn't tell me that were it not so. I was a kid you know. One of a class full. I thought she was mean to me. Was there nothing she did wrong? Wasn't there some fault on her part?
Janice
What does that have to do with you?
Michael opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Square dance music fills the room and a scene he recalls from the seventh grade unfolds before him. The teacher is asking for volunteers to couple up and learn square dancing. She is looking over the boys and expecting one or all of them to stand and pick a partner. The boys are reluctant. It's 1964. The Beatles and Stones are cool and so are they. Square dancing wasn't cool and asking girls to dance was quite new and scary activity. Michael stood up, alone, and walked to the front of the seated group. He looked at a plain girl named Dora and asked if she would like to dance. She smiled broadly, greatly surprised, and accepted his chivalrous invitation. At that point the stage went black.
Janice
Quite the dashing young man, and charitable too. Dora wasn't exactly the darling of the seventh-grade class. That had quite an impact on her life. It was a turning point though you weren't and aren't aware of that. She moved soon thereafter with her family to Wisconsin. You haven't thought of her to this day. She thought of you, however, and the thought of you gave her a great deal of confidence. You changed her life. What made you choose her when any one of those gals would've jumped at the opportunity?
Michael
Well, I don't know about that. I thought it would be a nice thing for her. I knew she wasn't one of the in crowd. She was quiet and blended in, kind of a wallflower I suppose. I guess I was part of the hip crowd. Just seemed like a nice thing to do.
Janice
Aww ... well, aren't you a sweetheart, a true knight in shining armour, a saint among men, a prince on a white horse, shall I continue?
Michael
I wouldn't go that far. Just a nice gesture, no big deal.
Janice
Yes, it was and that was part of the reason. I'll give you that. Now, tell me the rest of the reason. Have you even told yourself? Or is knight in shining armour the story you regale yourself with too?
Michael
I already said, I don't take it like that ... just a little thing really, no big deal.
Janice
Wow. The first one up. Weren't you a little scared? What if you got turned down? I know you were sweet on Laura, why didn't you ask her? Cold feet?
A chicken walks by clucking loudly.
Janice
Hey, it's just a chicken, I didn't invite her. You shouldn't take any inference from her at all.
Michael
So, what are you saying? Was I a little nervous going first? Sure, I was. But I wanted to. I wanted to be the one to go first. I DID want to chose Dora. I wasn't worried about Laura turning me down. Well, maybe I was a little, but so what? The main thing was, go first and give Dora a little boost. What in hell could be wrong with that?
Janice
Hell? Hmmm ....
Janice opens a notebook and scribbles furiously while Michael looks on with big eyes.
Janice
Wrong? Well, being honest. Honesty is a good thing, yes? You know we're big on that around here.
Janice jumps up and faces the back of the stage. She has a little hat on and a clipboard in hand.
Janice
Bernie! Run the square dance scenario again. And for GOD'S sake, add some pizzaz. You're putting us to sleep here. Okay ... extras in place. Cue music ... and ... ACTION!
The scene is quite a bit more garish this time. The class is at a huge get together. The smell of BBQ is in the air. Guns are being fired into the air by drunken cowboys and the musicians are wailing on their instruments. The caller is colourful to say the least, "Swing yer partner round and round, throw her in the toilet, flush her down. Grab that lassie spank her butt, if she slaps ya back she ain't no slut."
Michael rises from a small group and strides to the front of the gathering. His hat is on fire and beams of light pierce the sky from his eyes. Several women feint as he walks by.
Michael
Lady Dora, wouldst thou dancist withiest meeth?
Michael spins on his heels and winks at the crowd. He turns back to Dora and extends his hand. Dora rises from the ground as fairies sprinkle her with glittered dust. Her grey ankle length dress transforms into a golden sequined gown flowing as though in a breeze. The crowd is delirous and cheering wildly.
Dora
Why thank you, my Prince. I have been transformed into a new creature. Dora is gone, Dorabelleringadingding is born!
Janice
Cut! That's a wrap folks. Beef jerkey and black coffee, as much as you can drink, no charge at Chuck's wagon. Well, Michael, quite a show. You are something, I'll give you that. But, there's another scenario I'd like you to see. Bernie. Set the stage.
The stage goes black. As the lights come up we find Michael peering out from a cave. He's covered in dirt and drooling. He crawls to a small group of young students listening to square dance music. A kindly looking lady stands before them and speaks: "Who will be first?"
Michael
I will. I will Misseses Barnaclackeses.
He slithers forward from the group who parts the way for him, repelled by the smell and sight of him. The girls recoil and hide behind each other for fear he will chose them. Dora takes pity on him. Her heart knows no limit to kindness. Even a wretch like this deserves his moment in the sun.
Michael
I chose ... Dorrrrrasasas
Dora
Why thank you so much, kind sir. It would be my pleasure.
The crowd whispers amongst itself in awe of her selfless gesture. They feel shame for their selfishness. The glory of her act spreads across the Earth and peace reigns for a thousand years.
Michael
Thanksssssss ... my pleasureses tooooooo.
Janice
Cut.
| Author Notes |
Link to part I, click HERE Link to part II, click HERE The picture has nothing to do with the story for those who happen to recognize who it is. Just for fun. I thought she looked like a typical grammar school teacher. (no, she isn't a typical anything. LOL) Well, I'd say the deep end has been breached and new depths are being sought in earnest. ALL comments and help of any kind are appreciated. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Scene I
Fade in:
In a dark alley two figures encounter one another. It is unclear if they engage in mortal combat or rather in a sensuous dance. Shadows fly about in the night and whispers fill the air. Bursts of light shine for but a moment on faces, some grotesque and twisted in anger, some screwed in abject terror, others whose expression is extreme but difficult to discern. Sounds pierce the night like animals in the deepest jungle, howls of pain, shrieks of attack and ravaging until a cloud drifts slowly by and the light of the moon reveals an empty alley and silence reigns save for the soft dripping of dew condensed on the eaves of old high rise tenements. All are asleep.
Fade out:
Scene II
Fade in:
A crowd fills an alley Officials, detectives, police officers and their superiors conduct an investigation. Behind bright yellow tape glistening in the glaring sun, witnesses, lookers-on and reporters gawk, comment or await their turn to reveal their insights respectively. A clown dressed in black makes unrecognizable balloon animals. Vendors hawk their wares, but only the frozen carrot on a stick concern is making sales. Almost everyone has a frozen carrot on a stick, but no one attempts to consume it.
A spotlight shines on two detectives examining clothing on the pavement.
Detective Joe Leap Year
There are fluids all over these clothes. There are traces of blood dried on the pavement as well as gum of an unknown origin. Be sure and collect a sample, I'm suspecting Big Red ... I don't know, just a hunch. Bodies would help. They were either carried away to some hideous fate or they skipped to m'lou my darlin' ... uh, with all due respect, Detective Ballerina.
Detective Ballerina
That's Bawwwl, Joe, Bawwwlerina. I swear you get that wrong just to tickle me and make me titter. Bawwwwl as in basketball. You give the impression sometimes that I'm on the verge of skipping off with the Lord of the Dance to go antiquing, not that I don't enjoy a nice antique. Anyway, who's to say that these two didn't just knock boots like two rabid tit mice, and get spooked by Officer Flannigan, drunk and on horseback, forgetting he's twenty-years retired, trotting by naked singing selections from Candide. It's a terrible score. I'd run.
Detective Joe Leap Year
Terrible? Who died and made you the judge of musicals. I think it's an underrated score myself. Besides, that's an Old Navy blouse there, twinkle toes. You tryin' to tell me, that someone is so damn out of their tree they leave top of the line Old Navy apparel in a heap on the ground? Officer Flannigan is so drunk he don't see it and scoop it up. He's a veteran cop. Use your head, OLD NAVY, get it? OLD NAVY.
They start dancing around the scene arm in arm singing, "Next question, deep though it be, there's none too deep for me ..." From 'The Best of All Possible Worlds' from Candide.
Cut to:
A young girl with two long braids is licking a huge lollipop and questioning a wide-eyed white skinned older woman.
Detective Audrey Lick
Now, Miss Oldenmayden, you claim you witnessed the whole thing?
Miss Oldenmayden
You can call me Frigeeed, dear. Yes, it was a terrorist, no doubt about it. He was dark and wore one of those towels piled up on his head like an ice cream cone from the Dairy Queen. He kept calling him Fido, like he was a dog. That's what they call all of us, don't ya know, Fido's, dogs that should be killed. It's what their God tells them to do. He's a mean old cuss.
Detective Lick
It was pretty dark, Miss Oldenmay ...
Miss Oldenmayden
Frigeed, dear.
Detective Lick
It was quite dark, Frigeeeeed, how could you see all this so clearly?
Frigeeeeeeed
Well, I could see clear enough and, well, ya know, once you've seen one ... the camel smell, you can't get around that. Who calls another human being "Fido"?
Detective Lick
You heard that, then?
Frigeeeeeeeed
Well, they all say it. We're Fido's and we should be drowned in a gunny sack and all that. Anyway, she fought him with all her might and called out to the true God over and over. I think it helped, because when I came out of hiding they were both gone. I guess God vaporized him and took her straight up to Heaven since there's no bodies.
Detective Lick
Ahhh ... okay then, Frigeeeeeeeeed. I'll let you know if I have any further questions. You've been an astonishing witness.
Cut to:
A talking Emu wearing an Easter bonnet with a cracked egg sitting in the brim. A chicken peers out through a sizable hole in the egg.
Emu
You about to eat cereal, mate? Stick that in your pocket so I can ask you some questions.
Prickford Bucksalot Junior
Very well, but I've got meetings ... deals ... money to be ... hold on ... PBJ, what's the good word? ... Uh huh ... Okay, slit, crush, sell all shares, Call CIRQZZZREDKVVEEE or whatever her name is, the RED dress tonight. Yeah, and no pickles. Okay, ask away.
Emu
You say you got a good look?
PBJ
K-Mart all the way. Welfare, trailer park, fourth grade tops, probably ethnic, criminal record, sketcher tennis shoes, throw away the key, should be the death penalty, never happen to me, hard work, smarts, started with nothing but a small loan from Mumsy. I'm guessing a tall black man, gang member, armed, assault, white women, no business out this late, crack addicted, fourteen kids. Good luck.
Emu
What were you doing here at midnight?
Chicken
(low clucking) buck, buck, buck ... buck, buck, buck ....
Emu
No clue, little fellow. Well? Midnight?
PBJ
Lawyer. Big bucks.
A helicopter swoops in and hovers over them. A ladder drops down and PBJ starts to climb. He reaches out and grabs the chicken. The chicken flips the Emu off and says, "buck, buck, begock!"
Cut to
A detective standing in a light drizzle smokes a cigar. His face is shadowed by his hat and only his lips show. Smoke pours out of his mouth as he speaks. The smoke is in beautiful pastel colours and paints abstract images that float in the air around him. A little girl, four-years-old stands before him looking up and smiling.
Gumshoe Johnny Johnny
Ya got a gander I hear. Them baby blue peepers caught the creepers as it were. The crud danced in the mud like a scud hitting Bagdad on a weekend pass. Spill it Jezebel, I ain't buyin' that innocent kid routine.
Cute little girl
You talk funny.
The little girl giggles and Johnny takes a deep draw on his cigar and blows out a picture of an atomic bomb fizzling out and dropping gum drops over a meadow.
Johnny
What did you see, kid?
Cute little girl
Two people were dancing and then they kissed and walked away. I was in my bedroom and had to pee pee so I heard the music and looked out the winder.
Johnny
Now we're getting' somewhere. Black, white, brown? Gang bangers? Are you sure they were dancin'? Maybe one was tryin' to pound the other, a robbery, a shakedown, a rootin' tootin' shootin' or maybe a booty hootin'. Cough it up kid.
Cute little girl
Your silly. I don't know what your talkin' about. They just danced and went away.
Johnny walks over to the Emu.
Johnny
Sorry to fly you in for this. She don't know what she saw. Another vicious hate crime ... unsolved.
| Author Notes |
I took a "little" liberty. Kind of describing someone or two someones from the perspective of several witnesses. :)) Let's describe a person phsyical and mental and the such for this weeks potlatch prose. It can be someone you know or don't know, but help us to know them. Have fun!~DEbbie |
By michaelcahill
Recap:
Michael passed away and found himself in a receptionist's room waiting for an appointment. He wasn't aware of his demise or why he was there or who the appointment was with. Upon entering what he expected to be an office, he encountered a huge amphitheater. Seated at the corner of the stage was his sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Jacobs. He began to come to the realization that she was God and this was his judgment day.
Fade in
We continue now as Mrs. Jacobs, preferring to be called Janice, is about to question Michael about his life. He assumes it is to determine where he goes next. He's still somewhat in the dark about everything.
Michael
Well, whether I understand or not is still quite a bit up in the air. I've got Darwin playing dice with animals in the reception area, and now I'm sitting in this huge expanse with my sixth-grade teacher who appears to be God and I'm about to face judgment day. I'm assuming I'm dead, though I have no recollection of dying. Maybe I'm dreaming but I've pinched myself and slapped myself too, and I'm still here, sooooo....
Janice
How did the writing thing go?
Michael
Oh, yeah, my poem. Yes, that little encouragement stuck with me. Well, I don’t know. I wrote. I wrote until I apparently died. How did I die; do I get to know that? I'm understandably curious. I'm dead, right?
Janice
That's confidential and it depends on whose definition we go by. You tell me as you lounge in that chair exchanging pleasantries and ideas with your sixth-grade teacher, are you dead? Are dead people involved in such activities you're aware of? When you pass a cemetery do you eaves drop to get the latest dish on the hereafter or ever after as it were? Remember, Michael, within.
Michael
Well, I suppose then I'm asking, am I alive as I've come to know life up to this point? I mean, this isn't a preferable life to the life or what I had come to accept as life was if it is was. Is it was? Is this is? It's clear that I am me. But, of course, this can't be real. There's no place such as this in reality. Billions of people have died ... or gone on as it were to this different existence. There would be some empirical evidence of it I'm guessing. A population greater than that of Earth wouldn't fit on the head of a pin, now would it? Of course, maybe I was in a world that existed on the head of a pin and finally I've landed in the real world, the world that is full size. OR ... this world is sitting on the head of a pin inside of the world that sat on the head of a pin. It's irrelevant, isn't it?
Janice
It seems of concern to you.
Michael
Well, yes, why we are here and I suppose NOW where here is, these are concerns. And you, you are of great interest. If you are who I'm guessing you are, you certainly aren't the same you to Antonio Corleone from the Leaning Tower of Pisa. He'd have a nice Italian lady sitting there, no?
Janice
Go on.
Michael
That means, this is all mine. I'm making this up. It's not real. If that's the case, then what is real. Did I leave real to come here to NOT real? Wait, if I'm real here, which I'm sure I am, AND I'm real there, which I'm sure I was, then I'm real everywhere and you're real as you are the fig tree I've conjured apparently since you are specific to my existence. And that, ladies and weaker homo sapiens is why they call it the blues.
Michael rises and grabs the top hat and cane from the cardboard cutout of Frank Sinatra ...
Michael
Thank you, Old Blue Eyes, you won't be needing these, you're an inanimate object ... THEEEEEEESE little town blues, are melting awaaaaayyyyyaaaaaaa ....
Janice
Very nice, Michael. So, we're done here then? Aren't you curious about them?
Janice gestures out to the seats in the amphitheater. There are several hundred-people seated there. They've risen to their feet and are cheering Michael's performance. Michael is taken aback, but nonetheless bows with top hat in hand in a sweeping gesture. An encore occurs to him, but Janice interrupts.
Janice
Do you have anything to say to these people?
Michael
Thank you! Thanks so much for stopping by. You're too kind, really. I'll be appearing ... well, it's up to the booking agent I suppose.
Janice
Don't you recognize anyone?
Michael studies the crowd who are now seated and stoic. They are mostly unknown to him. However, there are a few familiar faces. They are mostly people he barely knew, acquaintances or old school mates, people from long forgotten jobs ...
Michael
Oh, yes, I do recognize a couple folk here and there. I think that's old lady Bickersfield, my eighth-grade teacher. Ahhh ... Linda something, from the tenth grade, I think she asked me to the backwards dance one year. Hmmm ... Mark Lillybark, umm, in some class in high school--I don't recall which one. Oh, oh, Robert Byrd, Ha, Stinky, everyone called him. Wow, that's third grade. What a memory. The rest, I don’t recall. So, who are they? Why are they here?
Janice
Would you say you were a good person? Kind? Caring?
Michael
Well, yes. I think I went out of my way to be kind and not hurt anyone. Make everyone better for having known me. That was ... erm, is my philosophy. Isn't that the case?
Janice
You hurt every single one of those people out there by your indifference and selfishness. Though they needed a kind word or a small gesture, you walked right by them wrapped up in your own little world, oblivious to anything but your own petty needs. That's a lot of hurt, isn't it? How do you feel about that?
Michael looked out over the crowd and then looked down and held his head in his hands. He looked up ashen faced.
Michael
How can that be? What is it I did? I don't even recall encountering most of these people. The ones I do ... well, what did I do to any of them? Old Lady Bickersfield, she was mean as cactus needles. She should be apologizing to me, no?
Janice
She saw great potential in you. A teacher's great joy is in finding a bright child and teaching them something that will elevate them in life's journey. She desperately wanted that for you. She tried everything. She tried talking to you and befriending you. She tried challenging you. When all else failed, she tried discipline to force you to conform to the rules. But none of it reached you in the slightest way. You were too busy entertaining your friends. You found her to be great sport, didn't you? Look at how you refer to her now even though you are a full-grown adult, Old Lady Bickersfield. Isn't that a lovely moniker for a woman dedicated to educating unappreciative young people, like yourself. How she would have delighted to teach you one little thing. But you wouldn't have it. To this day, it's never occurred to you what a vicious little boy you were to treat her the way you did. Do you not think you owe her an apology at least, Mr. Make Everyone's Life Better for Knowing You?
| Author Notes |
Click HERE To Read Part One. :))
Continuation of a Potlatch challenge: You've passed away and whether you're a believer or not, you've encountered some version of God and you're being judged. Take it anywhere you wish. Well, I'm less sure where this is going not than when I started. LOL Totally open to feedback and suggestions. At least another part and that may finish it ... or maybe not. :)) |
By michaelcahill
The main character has just died and finds himself in a waiting room. He is bewildered as are the other people in the room. The gum chewing secretary is of little help. She gives instructions, but offers no answers to the endless questions being thrown her way. No one knows why they are there or, indeed, how they even got there. He's not aware that he has died.
Fade in:
Scene One
Michael has fallen on to the court at the local gym clutching his heart. 911 has been called and CPR is in progress. Everyone has the impression he is dead, but they feel duty bound to go through the motions involved in such a circumstance.
Jane
Anything? No? Continue compressions.
Gary
One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand ...
Johnny
He's gone. There's not a drop of life there. Wow. I can't believe it. Just like that. He just scored and was dogging me down the court like a kid, dude ... like a damn kid. He had no business out here at that age. But that was him. He'd want to go like this, right? Defying age to the bitter end. Peter Pan if there ever was a Peter Pan.
Mary
Shut up, John. He's not dead yet. The EMTs are here now. There's hope.
EMT number one
You can stop now. We've got this.
EMT number two.
No pulse, no respiration. Okay, bag him. I'll continue compressions. Let's get him on the gurney. Call it in.
Mary
You can bring him back, right?
EMT number one
This isn't television. It's very rare. But we'll do our best, Ma'am.
Fade out
Scene Two
Fade in
Michael
Miss. Damn it. I don't even know how I got here. You've got to tell me something. Who am I seeing. What in hell is this place? It's a dream, right? Yeah, I'm dreaming. Who the hell are these people? This dream sucks. Wake up, wake up, wake up ....
Receptionist
I told you, Michael. Just be patient. Everyone goes in turn. You'll be called in soon enough. Just relax. You have all the time in the world. There's magazines, coffee, make yourself at home.
Michael glances in the corner and a dog, cat and rhesus monkey are playing dice with what appears to be Charles Darwin. The cat is winning and Darwin is squawking like a chicken and saying, "Cats can't read, I'm still right."
Receptionist
Michael? Is there a Michael here? Paging Michael? Breaker, breaker, you got a pair a nickels in the I25, Hot Mama's lookin' for the Mikester, come back. Anybody that wants to be like Mike then?
Michael
I'm right here. Jeesh. I just spoke to you three minutes ago.
Receptionist
I'm jest doin' ma job mister. Taint no cannabinol to a bein on the cluster of it all. Now the add said, buxom blonde and you're clearly as grey as the deep blue sky. Through the door to your left, right there on your right sir. The Glock won't help you, but if it makes you feel secure and gives you some swagger, then I can dig it, baby. Just like in the old days.
The receptionist nodded towards a door Michael was sure wasn't there before. It was covered in graffiti. Call Eve for the best rib in town, Adam's banana stand, Kilroy wasn't the nice guy you all thought he was ... Michael's desire to get through the door surpassed his curiosity to read any further.
Michael walks through the doorway into a room, well a huge amphitheater is a more accurate description. It's incredibly ornate with multiple tiers. It could seat twenty thousand he estimates. It's empty as is the stage. The giant curved screen running the length of the stage is blank. Off to the side sits someone familiar to him, but he can't quite place her. She's knitting something, a sweater he's guessing. She doesn't look up.
Michael
Well? I'm sure you are aware I have no inkling as to why I'm here. You do know I find you familiar, that I'm sure of. Waiting for me to speak first ... that's orchestrated. I'm not sure why, but that is clear. Ahhh, Mrs. Jacobs. Sixth grade, Park School Elementary, my favorite teacher, a secret crush remembered to this very day and this very moment. How is it that you are here in this grand place? Are you knitting me a sweater?
She looks up with a wise buy wry smirk on her face.
Janice
You may call me Janice, Michael. Mrs. Jacobs was protocol for the sixth grade when you were a little boy, a wee little tyke with big ideas. But you're a man now, yes?
Michael
That has been a consistent rumour floated for some time now. Its veracity remains suspect in some circles.
Janice
Clever, just as I suspected and secretly expected. And my advice, do you recall it?
Michael looks off into the distance as if the answer is far, far away. He looks back as though struck by a very kind lightning bolt.
Michael
Everything I need is already inside of me. I just need to find it. It's true you know. You were correct and it's true for everyone. I've told that very thing to many, many people over the years. I'll be ... yes, it was you, you told me that. I remember now. I didn't realize until just this moment where that came from. I can even hear you saying it. Wow. It's the foundation of my life. Thank you.
Janice
No need to thank me. Truth is truth. And when you looked in, what did you find?
Michael
Boy, that's difficult to say. I don't really know. Some talent I suppose, I have musical abilities, I can write and entertain. I'm known as being good to talk to ... helpful, maybe uplifting in a way. I don't exactly have any great success to point to, so perhaps I didn't look hard enough or see what I should've seen. I don't even know if that's a judgment I can make.
Janice
Then, I suppose, making a judgement will be up to me.
Michael
What do you mean, a judgement? I still don't know why I'm here or even where I am. Am I dead or something? Is that what this is? I'm dead and you're God? You're about to judge me?
Janice
You do understand.
| Author Notes |
Sorry, I got a little carried away with this. LOL This is going to take more than one posting. I'm thinking two. This is part one then. I may add to this part though, so, maybe three parts. UNLESS, you think this is toooo nuts and advise against it. :)) Write a short story or play on the following premise or topic: You've passed away. Regardless of what your religious beliefs are or lack of them, if that's the case, as it turns out, THERE IS A GOD. You are about to meet Him/Her/It and answer a few questions. This can be funny, serious, sci fi, or whatever creative avenue occurs to you. No holds barred. Have fun or be as introspective as you wish. :)) Check in here when you are finished. No word limits or restrictions as to form or style. |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
A single microphone stands in front of City Hall. A small crowd, two camera operators, and a small conclave of reporters wait. Florence "Flo" Sutton is about to announce her candidacy for President of the United States.
Flo
I'm running for President. I have no backing; indeed, I seek backing.
I plan to tell you what I think we need to do and if that sounds like a good idea to you, then I'd appreciate your help and support.
I'll be working for you, so what you tell me will have a great influence on me. I have strong beliefs, but if I find during my journey that I stand for something you don't want then I will consider it in all seriousness. I may change my mind, I may not. In either case, I will tell you in plain English what I've decided and why. You will continue to support me or cease supporting me based on the absolute truth. I won't have it any other way and neither should you.
Let me give you some basics. These are simple, but concrete and real. I will seek a flat tax of twenty percent on all income both personal, corporate and non-profit. There will be no exceptions of any kind. There will be one simple deduction available to taxpayers. A personal deduction of ten thousand dollars for an individual tax payer. This would double for a couple, any manner of couple, married, or living together under any circumstance. Corporations would also be able to claim the twenty-thousand-dollar deduction as would non-profits. This, in effect, would exempt an individual making fifty thousand or less, or a couple making one hundred thousand or less, from any tax liability.
Corporations would immediately lose their defacto citizenship under my administration. No, a corporation is not an individual, it is simply a business entity owned by individuals. The owners are responsible for the businesses activities. The implications are as you imagine.
I value education and plan to make it available to all Americans ... period.
I believe that the right to liberty, domestic tranquility and happiness includes shelter, health care and safety. I believe it is the law of the land guaranteed by our Constitution and I aim to enforce it
This may be simplistic, but these rights are guaranteed to all people. I don't qualify "all" and qualifying "all" will not be legal in your White House if you hire me to serve you.
This may sound like so much pie in the sky to you. But consider this: Every word of this can become reality if YOU say it is so. It isn't me and it isn't those who occupy those plush government offices all over the country. Every single one of them are people YOU chose.
I'm asking you to choose something and someone different. I'm reminding you, YOU can absolutely do just that.
I'm Flo. Let me be the one who takes YOUR message to Washington.
So, we begin.
| Author Notes |
Inspired by a contest I saw. I'd rather crawl under a rock than enter. LOL. But, here's my take nonetheless. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of sexual content.
| Author Notes |
To be honest, I don't know exactly what I'm targeting this for. I just know the general concept I have in mind and the direction I want to go. So, a bit by the seat of my pants, but even less knowledge of what's to come than usual. SUGGESTIONS are most welcome. In general, I'm showing the main character interacting with various folk online. I don't have an over all story line however, just individual scenarios. |
By michaelcahill
A haggard man shuffles along a path. He's covered in dust and drying sludge of unknown origin and composition. The path slowly becomes more green as he ambles forward. He soon comes upon an idyllic scene--a waterfall, a variety of plant life and even a smattering of animals. It appears almost as though all await him, and what he must say. He addresses those present:
I am Zachary, though that is of no consequence. I have dreamed in days of yore that I would once spread the good news of love and redemption in a cathedral such as this. In truth, this is beyond what I could dream even though learned and armed with knowledge of places such as this. Indeed, I have been a tireless advocate for preserving and cherishing such places once plentiful and even common to Earth.
I see the water tumble much as faith flows from the heart. There is no need to know the destination, only the belief that the journey is the correct one and the destination is what it should be. There is joy in the reckless abandon of the plunge over the cliff and the roar is of laughter, fearless and thrilled for the sudden rush of the ride. And then the stillness of the lake as all is collected in reflection. Each drop, with its own point of origin and story, now part of a great clarity that reflects all around it. The sun if it is day, the moon if it is night, even the stars though the distance to reach them escapes the abilities of our minds. You bring them to us as if to say, "See, they are close at hand. It is all connected and you are part of it. Nothing is far away. It is all part of you for you are part of it."
These eyes peering out at me. Do you question me? Did we not understand dominion? Was it we who considered slaughter and disdain and disrespect components of our gift? We were not good shepherds. No, not good shepherds by any reckoning. Nor were we good gardeners, having been bestowed a garden like this that covered the Earth. These colours that taxed our brains for the naming. But we chose grey.
Now, in this slice of paradise where I once dreamed of a joyous sermon, I can only offer a pathetic apology. I apologize for what my fellows have done to the Earth. I can pledge, as the last of them, what has been done will be done no more. I can only pray that this one small oasis might remain. I can only beg whatever power might entertain my begging, that this one speck be spared.
I would offer myself as recompense, but our value has been established and etched in the annals of eternity for all to see. A sad tale.
| Author Notes |
Prose Potlatch Challenge--Using Descriptive Language Describe a church or religious place or anyplace that makes you feel spiritual--ie waterfall etc. Try to paint the picture for the reader |
By michaelcahill
| Author Notes |
The topic is "a change". Write about a time when there was a change in your life--how it happened, what you felt etc. Can be a huge change or a minor one- an illness a wedding birth of a child move to a new place new job writing your first story etc, a change however you choose to define it. Have fun! Debbie |
By michaelcahill
Scene I
Fade in
An operating room. Cavemen are dressed in scrubs with appropriate masks. The equipment on the tray looks positively medieval. A little boy is counting backwards as he lays on a bed of nails. He looks angelic.
Doctor
Did you give him enough ether? He's down to sixty-seven.
Anesthesiologist
How would I know? I just keep giving it until he passes out.
Doctor
Ahhh ... he's out now. Let's get those tonsils. Hatchet.
A hairy-armed nurse passes him a rusty hatchet.
CHARACTER:
Old Man
An old man wrinkled and grizzled.
Old Man
Back then medicine was in its infancy. They didn't even have a name for tonsils. They called 'em 'mini-throat punching bags'. The adenoids were called 'those-other-things-we-can't-find-a-use-for-so-we-may-as-well-hack-them-out-too-things'. I remember the doctor taking me into a little room and talking about ice cream. He kept going over all the flavours. Of course, back then there were only three. "Listen kid, this horseless carriage is costing me a fortune. What if I told you I could give you all three flavours as much and as often as you want? You'd let me have my way with you then, wouldn't ya sport?" That's how he put it to me. Needless to say, my response was, "HELL YEAH!"
Fade out
Scene II
fade in
A high school athletic field. Boys are involved in various drills, practicing for an upcoming football game. A discussion among the quarterback and his wide receivers is underway.
Characters
Brad: Quarterback of the team. He has limited skills but unbridled enthusiasm. It is misplaced as this is by far the worst football team perhaps in the nation.
Harlan McFate: Right End. Tall and lanky. Couldn't catch a ball if it was made out of crazy glue. The fact seems to elude him. He considers himself a star.
Our Hero: Well, the subject of all these stories. He's short, about 5' 7" and weighs no more than 135lbs soaking wet. On the other hand, his arms are abnormally long, his hands are huge and he can jump to the moon. He never drops the ball.
Brad
The key is the passing game against Montebello. There's no way our backs are going to run through their line.
Harlan
I'm down. Just throw it to me all day long.
Our Hero
Look, you know I can catch. Throw it to me and I'll catch it. But I'm not letting one of those two hundred pound slabs of meat tackle me. I'm going out of bounds, scoring or curling up on the ground like a little baby. I'm not getting crushed. We're going to lose by a hundred points anyway. No way I'm risking my life.
Brad
Dammit. What kind of attitude is that? Have some balls. This is football not ballet.
Our Hero
Whatever. It isn't suicide either.
Our Hero walks off leaving Brad and Harlan seething. They confer together. Harlan takes off towards Our Hero and Brad throws a pass his way. It's clear Harlan isn't worried about catching it. His object is to tackle Our Hero and Brad isn't far behind to pile on. Our Hero gets up from the pile and shows them a severely broken arm. He makes no sound.
Cut to doctor's office
Doctor
I just need to pull this into place.
The doctor pulls on the badly out of place arm. Our Hero has no reaction as there is no pain until the doctor jerks the arm up and then down. Our Hero's mouth opens, but no sound comes out. His eyes are wide open in obvious pain. Beads of sweat form and pour from his forehead.
Doctor
I almost got it.
Our Hero stares forward blankly.
Old Man
Pain is a relative thing. I'm not a fan of doctors, but sometimes you need one. I suppose I couldn't walk around with my arm out of shape forever. I learned to be a loner after that. I'm not a fan of people.
Fade out
Scene Three
Fade in
A hospital waiting room. Our Hero and his mom are waiting for a doctor to speak. His grandma (and her mother) has been admitted with a heart attack. She's sixty-four years old.
Doctor
She's stable now so you can go ahead and say goodbye. She'll be gone by morning. There's nothing else we can do.
Old Man
Looking back now, I realize how impactful that moment was on me. I used my grandma's health and my moms to gauge my expectations for my own. It threw me off quite a bit. My grandma was sickly by the time she hit her fifties. My mom made it to her sixties before she was sickly. My grandma's condition would be considered mild today. Back then there was no treatment, she was a goner. When I reached my late fifties, it dawned on me that I hadn't aged hardly at all. I had no conditions of any kind. My estimation that I'd slowly fall apart and check out between 65 and 70 looked to be way off. To be honest, the likelihood that I had a good twenty or thirty years to go scared the hell out of me. For God's sake, I'd have to do something. I couldn't just sit there and wait for that much time to pass. I'd have to come up with a plan. That's where I'm at today. The funny thing is, it's a familiar place. I never did come up with one to begin with. Now, I'm in the same boat and I'm kind of old to be there. Sigh.
Fade out
Scene IV
Fade in
Some older folk having a conversation
Characters
Ned: A sixtyish gent with a walker.
Sylvia: 72 and recovering from a stroke.
Janice: Lots of complaints, but no visible reason for them.
Georgia: A lovely outgoing almost 60 gal. Time hasn't seemed to catch up to her yet.
Our Hero; Zipped by 60 without any trouble. He seems to be ailing though.
Ned
I'd just like to have a day where I can walk without pain. That's all.
Janice
Well, if it's not one thing, it's the same thing. And the cost of it ... Jeesh. And the doctors don't care. Well ... I could go on forever.
Our Hero
I hear ya, both. It's few and far between the older you get. But I guess if we hadn't have used it up we'd have little to talk about, yes?
Sylvia
Well said. No sense whining about it. Get up, deal with it and move forward. That's my view.
Georgia pulls Our Hero to the side and out of earshot of the group.
Georgia
I have to laugh when you go along with them like that. I don't get it.
She gives him a tight hug.
Georgia
I'm rivaling Niagara Falls right now thinking about last night. And I can tell I could hang a porch swing off what your poking me with, boy. Why play the decrepit act? I'd be bragging.
Our Hero
Well ... you never know when we're going to join them. It's all blind luck I think. If I was them the last thing I'd want to hear is details of how we spend our evenings. Of course, that doesn't mean you can't remind me, darlin'. I'm getting forgetful in my old age....
Georgia and Our Hero sneak away while the group continues their discussion.
Old Man
I'd like to say I never did grow old. So, I will. I never did grow old. At least that's how it plays out in my mind.
Fade out
| Author Notes |
The topic this week will again be one of a personal nature--health concerns, healthcare you have had. Doesn't have to be a deep topic, something like having your tonsils out is fine. Good luck and have fun. Still with the play thing. I'm experimenting, so whatever input you have is appreciated. I don't really know what I'm doing. I have what it might look like in mind, but then it slips my mind too and I start just writing prose I think sometimes. Sooooo, whatever you point out will help. It's certainly a different way to write. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
The view is of a baby in a mother's arms. The baby's hand stretches out and the focus is sharp on the hand until nothing but the hand is in view. It is small and pink ... perfect.
A voice speaks
The expectations are so unfair. Are fresh fingers, delicate and perfect a true yardstick to pin a family's hopes on? Will it restore your sanity, Mom? Will it make a decent man of you, Dad? Will it give the rest of you tolerance and wisdom? And why am I your savior? I'm just a baby in a crib. Shouldn't my wellbeing be the focus of all? This is how I begin life, as the hopes and dreams for all of you? What if I might have hopes and dreams of my own? What of them?
A New Scene
Fade in
Small hands, those of a child glide across piano keys. Minuet in G sounds through the house. We find adults in conversation at the dining room table.
Piano teacher
His hands are quite large. He'll be able to play Liszt and Rachmaninoff. Few are physically capable to even try. His ear and touch are exceptional. You musn't let this skill go to waste.
Grandmother
Very well then. If you say he has that potential, we can't turn our back on it. We see his future in acting, that's why we came to Los Angeles. But, playing piano can't hurt.
Mother
It can't hurt, no, it can't hurt. He's wonderful, listen to him. He's a star, my son is a star.
The focus becomes tight on the two small hands until that is all that is seen.
A voice speaks
So, my hands are large. Perhaps I have some talent. Is that the great hope for you? Why is it not something for me to enjoy for myself? I do enjoy it you know. I like the sound and the feel of my fingers striking the keys and their response. But that doesn't occur to you. Somehow, I'm more than special. I'm more than a talented little boy to encourage. I'm the hopes and dreams of the entire family. My success is your success. So ... it isn't mine at all, is it?
A New Scene
Fade in
A playground with grade school kids playing at recess. A bully picks on a smallish boy. They are ten or eleven-years-old.
Smallish boy
I don't care what you say. I don't want to fight. I could care less what you or anyone says.
Bully
You're just chicken. Everyone here knows it. They've known it all year. Just take a swing, punk. That's all you've gotta do. Take a swing.
The smallish boy turns and stares at the bully.
Smallish boy
You touch me again ... I'm going to hurt you. I keep telling you to lay off. I've told you. I don't want to fight. I don't care what you think.
The bully laughs and shoves his shoulder. The boy grabs his arm and smashes it down across his knee. He then punches the bully in the nose. It makes a sickening thud and the bully hits the ground hard. The boy just stands there as teachers rush to the scene.
Kid standing by
He grabbed his arm and broke it. I don't believe it. Then he smashed his face in.
Teacher
Who started this?
Another kid
Well, he was teasing him. But he just kind of pushed him on the shoulder. Then this guy went nuts, man.
The focus becomes tight on a hand with red knuckles. It isn't injured. The red is blood from the bully's nose.
A voice speaks
I knew how much I hated violence right then and there. As much as that kid deserved it, I got no satisfaction from it. The other kids turning on me was a shock. These were the same kids telling me to not be a wuss. Yeah, I had long arms and huge hands. I hit hard. I didn't like it at all. I got a reputation though. I was grateful for that. A reputation means you don't have to fight. I got lucky with reputation throughout my life. I've always had one and I have no idea why. But I'm grateful for it. I hate fighting. I'm so thrilled people think I'm so dangerous.
A New Scene
Fade in
A young couple, high school age, walks in the park. It's early evening. He's quiet and seems to be ultra-cool. He's really ultra-scared, but he's learned that silence leaves some doubt. He stops and faces the girl he's been walking with. She looks at him intently. She is clearly nervous, but anxious to see what he is going to do. He leans forward. Her eyes close and he notices. He kisses her. The relief and the thrill of it is apparent. He reaches his hand up to her face and touches it gently. His first love. Her first love.
The focus is on a large hand as it gently touches the delicate features of her young face.
A voice speaks
She told me how safe she felt when her hand was in mine. Her hand was small and mine was so large. She also told me how she feared the size of it and my long arms and the strength she felt in me. She wondered how I could possibly be gentle if we shared so much passion between us. It never left my mind how much the need for me to be gentle meant to her. I never tried to find out if that was just her or if that applied to all women. It just became my nature. I like having that nature. Yes, I am the same man that broke an arm and smashed a nose. But I know that all too well. I always have that in mind even years and years and years later. I don't want to be him.
A New Scene
Fade in
The focus is on a pair of older hands. They aren't ancient, but they are old. It isn't clear where they are resting. They are just posed as if at the ready.
A voice speaks
Of course, there are many, many stories. Those are just a few. My hands cared for my dying mother and performed tasks no son should ever have to. My hands have labored at jobs to survive that were an insult to their talents. I seem to attract those who need care. My hands have given a lot of care and I've seemed to need little myself. I've been lucky enough to caress many a fair face in my day, laughingly lucky to be honest. Still, I have more caresses to give. I expect my extended hand will most likely be grabbed by someone who needs help though, that's my lot in life I suppose. But perhaps there is yet one more story of a sweet face that finds these overly large hands somehow intriguing.
The hands begin to move and Minuet in G plays throughout the hall.
| Author Notes |
Thanks so much to Giraffmang for the promotion. Wow. I'm speechless. :)) Prose Potlatch Challenge for 3-12 The topic is ... drum-roll please ... 'my hands' this can be where they have been what they have done where they are going or any related (or not so much) topic~DEbbie |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
Characters:
Joe
Late forties, liberal, writer, drinks like a fish of late. Enjoying his young girlfriend with whom he lives at the moment.
Brenda
Early twenties, uninterested in politics. A genius, lesbian, enjoys Mike for reasons she can't explain. Also, has been drinking a great deal with the only one who doesn't chastise her severely for doing so, Joe.
We see Joe watching television in a disheveled living room. Several empty bottles are on a large coffee table. Brenda is asleep next to Joe wrapped in a blanket. It is 9-11-2001 and a large commercial airliner has just crashed into one of the Twin Towers in New York.
Joe
Bren, wake up. You've gotta see this. Bren.
Brenda
Uh? What is it? I'm not up yet, ya horny old thing. Aren't you supposed to be slowing down. I'm getting the old man handbook out ... what the hell is happening?
Joe
I don't know. It just happened. A plane flew right into the damn building. Maybe on purpose, Hon, I don't know. I'm guessing terrorism. That can't be a mistake, right?
Brenda
Well, no, it can't be. That is on purpose. That's the damndest thing I've ever seen in my life. Wow. Turn it up.
The broadcast continues and the news is frantic and all over the place. The talk is of terrorism. The building is on fire. Reports are that people above the crash are stranded with no way out. As the story unfolds another plane crashes into the other tower.
Joe
Oh, my God! There's no doubt now. It's intentional. It's an attack.
Brenda
But, why? What's the point of it?
Joe
Fear. They want us to know that no one is safe. They want us to know they'll do anything ... they'll die for what they believe in. They're fanatics. Hell, I don't know. I wonder what else is in the works. How big is this? Damn, this isn't good.
Brenda
Don't we have an Air Force? Don't we have radar? How could these giant planes just fly into these buildings unnoticed? What in hell is the government doing? I'm not into this political crap. Don't we have any defense against this? You know more about it than I do.
Joe
Hell, I thought we did. I just want to hang out with you. I gave up participating in this crap a long time ago. I don't know what the hell ... holy shit! Wow! Are you watching this? I can't believe my eyes. The whole building just collapsed. It just collapsed, babe. WOW! like a pancake or something. Damn!
Brenda
Joe! It has to be full of people. How many people are in there. They're evacuated, right? But the ones above the plane ... they're goners. God, Joe, they're all dead ... just like that. What about the other building? That can't happen there, too can it? They've got to get those people out now.
Joe
I don't know. I don't know. I can't believe what I'm looking at. I'm in the dark just like you. I'm just watching same as you. We need a drink, yes? I don't know what else to do.
Brenda
This isn't what I planned to wake up to. What the hell is happening to the world, Joe. Damn, I'm glad you’re here. Yeah, pour me one too.
They sip their drinks and continue to watch. It isn't long before the other tower collapses. They say nothing. They continue to drink and watch. Hours and hours pass by. They will both always remember the day exactly the same way.
Fade out
| Author Notes |
Here's our little Potlatch challenge: Write a non-fiction piece of any kind about the events of 9/11. This can be your own experiences, your opinions or what you feel the significance of the event is globally or specifically to your country or another country. Anyway, lots of leeway. :)) I wrote a short one act play. This is a recollection of the events of that day as I recall them. I think quite a few of us just watched in disbelief unable to truly process what we witnessed. My memory is of me and my girl having very few answers and very few questions either. We just clung together grateful for each other's presence. A rather simple response in retrospect. I have the feeling though that it might not be that unusual. Maybe I'm wrong. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
New Characters
Nathan: Accused of biting the head off a pigeon. Bi-polar. Actually, seems to be much improved using meth amphetamines.
Charlie: Physically imposing black man. Convicted rapist and exhibitionist. A cutter, schizophrenic. Also, charming and intelligent.
Ricky: Convicted of numerous assaults. Has spent most of his life in prison. Has never made it through parole without getting rearrested, schizophrenic.
Darlene: Caregiver. Naïve, but somehow respected by the dangerous new residents as is Donny.
Established Characters:
Mary Queen of Socks: Aka Judy Sutton. Judy is bi-polar, schizophrenic or both, depending upon which shrink you ask. She's approaching three hundred pounds and doesn't care in the least. According to her, she's "happy and content" and reminds all of that fact often.
Mark Henry: Paranoid schizophrenic, all agree. His affection for LSD may have played a small part in his current condition. He is a superior intellect and the one person in the facility who can converse in an intelligent manner with the caretaker. He does, however, think everyone is out to get him.
Billy Boykins: Misdiagnosed with many ailments. Certainly, mentally challenged. Epileptic. His epilepsy causes many of his other conditions in the opinion of his caretaker. The doctors have diagnosed, Parkinson's syndrome and a host of other ailments.
Vernon David McMahon: Everyone calls him Dave or David. He refers to himself by his FULL name especially when declaring his RIGHTS which is often.
Kenny: A short round black man with an insane laugh and crazy eyes. He believes he imparts wisdom, but no one understands what he is talking about. Everyone goes along with him.
Rhonda Crunk: An older woman who never stops talking. She tells endless stories about people no one has ever heard of, especially about her childhood.
Donny: Also known as Dad or Don, never Mr. Larson even to professionals like Doctors or city and county officials who inspect the premises. He's the oldest person in the facility and the caregiver of all. For some reason, he is perceived as young. He is also perceived as extremely intimidating though he is friendly and outgoing and fun.
It's late afternoon and most of the clients are awake and scattered about the house engaged in various activities. Some are asleep. Charlie looks very serious as he approaches Darlene who is trying to get through to Nathan. Nathan can become almost catatonic at times and is currently standing motionless by the entrance to the kitchen. Several clients are playing cards at the kitchen table or watching cards being played.
Darlene
Nathan, why don't you have a seat and join the others? Are you okay? Answer me, I know you can hear me.
Nathan
I'm okay.
Nathan mutters softly without any facial expression or intonation in his voice. His response is more than anyone else ever gets out of him when he's in this state.
Darlene
I Know you're okay, but you don't want to just stand here all day, it worries people. It worries me. I don't want to see you back in the hospital. You know you're better off here with people who care for you. Just try and walk over and take a seat. You don't have to talk or play cards, just sit and watch. No one will bother you, okay?
Nathan doesn't speak, but he slowly walks into the kitchen and stands near the wall. Charlie gets Darlene's attention.
Charlie
I need to go to my P.O.s. I have to check in to the hospital.
Darlene
Why? What's wrong? You look okay.
Charlie
I'm thinking about cutting again. I need to go in before I start hurting myself.
Charlie shows Darlene his arms. They are scarred and there are shallow fresh cuts already on them bleeding lightly.
Darlene
Donny. Charlie needs to go to his P.O.s.
Donny is already heading towards the front door with the keys.
Donny
Okay, Charlie. I'm ready. Do you have everything you need? Got your phone?
Donny taps his front pocket and nods and follows Donny out the front door. Darlene is alone and in charge of the house now. Ricky approaches her.
Ricky
That damn kid. He's about to drive me on one. Can't you tell him to leave me alone. I don't need to go back in. I just want to be left alone, man. He's just pushing it.
Darlene
C'mon now, Ricky. He's just a kid, you know that. His mind is like a ten-year-old's. You can't let that get to you. Be a brother to him. I know you can handle that. He needs you to give him guidance. You're older and have some wisdom, he looks up to you. You understand, right?
Ricky gets a strange look on his face like a light has gone off in his head. His usually stern and tense expression brightens a bit.
Ricky
Billy, come here, boy. Let's talk a while.
Ricky smiles as Billy comes bounding up. Darlene smiles and heads into the kitchen. Nathan is sitting in a chair at the kitchen table watching the card game.
Darlene
Who's winning.
Rhonda
No one knows.
Everyone starts laughing. Nathan smiles slightly. Donny strolls in through the front door.
Donny
He'll be okay. I guess he knows himself. The P.O. called the paramedics and they had him on his way in no time. I've got the number to call to check on him later. His P.O. says this is the first time he ever came in before he hurt himself.
Donny smiles at Darlene. She smiles back and then turns her attention back to the game.
Fade out
By michaelcahill
Fade in
Characters
Mom: Early thirties, housewife.
Step Dad: Electronics engineer. Korea vet, Early thirties.
Grandma: Late fifties in poor health. Widowed young. The matriarch.
Mike: Ten-year-old, only child. The families focus and hope.
It's 1962. The Russians are attempting to install a missile base in Cuba. This threat is unacceptable to the United States. The U.S. has set up a blockade and vowed to stop any Russian ship bringing supplies to the missile base. A Russian convoy is enroute. The nation is watching the events unfold on television.
The front door bursts open and Mike comes bounding in. The household that usually is waiting anxiously for news of his day is instead huddled together in the living room glued to the television set. The only sound is emanating from the set. The tone is somber and takes Mike aback.
Mike
What's going on? We get nuked?
Grandma tries to adopt an upbeat attitude.
Grandma
Well, there's our boy. No, we haven't been nuked. Just some goings on with the Russians, diplomacy and the like. Nothing to worry about. You know how adults get over news sometimes. How was your day?
Mike
Same as the day before and the same as tomorrow I'm guessing ... everyone looks so serious though. Really, what gives, what's going on?
Mike saunters into the living room and dumps his books on the coffee table. No one looks up. There are images of military ships on the T.V. screen and a voice over solemnly speaking about them.
Voice over
Our ships stand in defiance of the approaching Russian convoy. It is reported that our ships will not move aside and have orders to fire upon the Russians if they don't turn back. The Russians show no signs of slowing and continue on a course straight towards the blockade ...
Mike sits down unacknowledged. All eyes are fixed on the screen. Our ships sit in the water waiting. Miles away the Russian convoy steams ahead towards a confrontation. If they don't turn back, war is a certainty.
Mike
This is war. That's what this is.
Mom
I don't know, I just don't know. Kennedy knows what he is doing.
Dad
The Russians will back down. The Russians won't risk it. The stakes are too high. They stand to lose as much as we do ... more. They must know they can't beat us head to head. We're second to none. The world is behind us.
Grandma
Are you hungry, Mike? I could fix you something. You don't need to worry about this. It will pass.
Mike
I'm not a child, Grams, I'm just young. We hear about this in school constantly. I know this is real. You don't have to protect me from it. I need to see this. I need to know ... just like you do.
Voice over
The Russian ships have turned around. They've backed down. Oh, boy, I don't know what happened, but I know those ships are heading home to Russia and all is well. We can breathe again. Amen. We can breathe again.
The sigh of relief is audible in the living room. But no one gets up to resume normal activity. Everyone remains in silence watching the ships sailing back to Russia for as long as the T.V. shows them. Finally, the broadcast ends and local programming resumes. Everyone watches, but the mood remains the same.
Grandma
It's still light out. Dinner's not for a couple hours. You can go out and play if you want.
Mike
Naw. I don't know when I'll want to play again.
Fade out
| Author Notes |
Just a synopsis really. This scene played out all over the country. A lot of kids my age grew up real fast and real early those few days. Let's take a turn at some non-fiction the next couple weeks. I will announce an event from the past for you to write about. I suggest allowing an hour and a half as you may want/need to do a bit of research. It will be past--like not the last election or anything. You can write it as a news article or report or any creative form you can think of. Most of all have fun with the challenge of non-fiction. Topic will be announced at 6:00pm Fanstory EST. Subject 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Take your time if need to research. How you present the info is entirely up to you. It is non-fiction however. Have fun~Debbie |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
Characters:
Olive Oyle: Veteran cartoon actress who's been playing Popeye's girlfriend for decades.
Betty Boop: Iconic cartoon actress forever typecast as the sexy vixen. Classically trained actress never allowed the opportunity to branch out into other roles.
We find the two of them at the 'Acme Soda Bar ... Wink'. The bar is in disrepair and is a hangout for fading stars and canceled shows from the past. Once in a while the more current crowd stops in for a peek, but mostly out of curiosity.
Olive
I don't know what you're complaining about. Any dude would cut off an arm or two to be with you, dolly. It ain't like you need any make-up to get your freak on.
Betty Boop
I can't help the way I'm drawn. It don't mean that's what I am on the inside. Who are you to talk anyway? You've got your fair share of suitors brawlin' over you.
Olive
Are you kidding? They don't call Brutus, Brutus for nothing. He wouldn't even notice I was there if I wasn't the one ordering the pizza. And I have to pay for it! It ain't a good minute either. Two losers ain't no better than one.
Betty Boop
Yeah, but that Popeye is so gallant and such a gentleman. He fights for your honour. I wish a man would fight for my honour. Hell, they're praying I don't have any. Dirty old coots.
Olive
It's either fight off Brutus and have a nice warm bed to sleep in or sleep under a bridge. He's homeless, girlfriend. He's a sailor all right, but he ain't in no Navy. He just hires on as a deck hand once in a blue moon ... gets thrown overboard half the time. He's a bum. What can I say.
Betty Boop
Yeah, maybe so. But he loves ya, don't he? He always comes back to you. That Brutus is a big guy; he can't enjoy fighting him all the time.
Olive
It's part of the contract. They're drinking buddies. Brutus is gay. It's all in the script. Do you think that big gallut is actually hitting that skinny fool? HA! He'd knock the spinach out of him for sure.
Betty Boop
You don't say. I'll be. I thought the spinach made him strong. I do declare I believed every word of it. Mercy. I bet he don't even eat spinach then.
Olive
Oh, he eats spinach alright. AND it's worse than cabbage I'm here to tell you. He farts all night and it makes the dog cry. Farts, snores, and sleeps with a pipe in his mouth. Oh, yeah, romance is his middle name. And he giggles when he snores just like in the movies. I could slit his throat.
Betty Boop
Why don't ya'?
Olive
And be alone? In case you haven't noticed. They don't need to do any make-up on me. I look on the big screen the same way I look off it. No wonder Brutus is gay. If Popeye wasn't such a loser, I wouldn't even have him. I'm surprised he hasn't taken up with Alice the Goon, at least she has breasts.
Betty Boop
She's a he, honey. Didn't you know that?
Olive
Oh? But she's got ...
Betty Boop
Yeah, well, true that, but she's got other appendages that matter more. She plays the Master Cylinder in the Felix cartoons. "She" is a he, honey. I got that straight from Poindexter. He goes both ways and any other ways one might suggest, the little egghead.
Olive
Poindexter? I always thought VaVoom was the dude that had the real game. Wow, Poindexter, I guess with that big brain his imagination runs wild.
Betty Boop
I could tell you stories about VaVoom too, dear, but I want to keep him my own little secret. Well, maybe if you're buying. Hee-hee.
Olive
Why don't we do a show together? We should team up. They'd be hard pressed to replace us. Who the hell would want that mumbling fool Popeye anyway. And with your talent, you should be doing more than just wiggling around and saying Boop, boop-e-doo in movie after movie. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but, jeesh, I know you want more than that.
Betty Boop
Yeah. We could team up. They can't afford to lose both of us. We could talk to Alice, Poindexter and VaVoom and start our own company even. Maybe something for adults. Give us another round dear. Same for you, right? Make 'em doubles. What do we need the grief they put us through for anyway? Dammit we're stars. Olive? Hey, you okay?
Olive
Sure, I'm fine. I'm just a little dizzy. I need to stretch out here and close my eyes. The room is spinning a little. I'm fine. VaVoom, huh? I bet he's got a tongue like a ping pong paddle in there ....
Betty Boop
Olive? Crap, I should've known anyone that skinny couldn't handle that much booze. Oh, well, good to know about Popeye though. Spinach farts ... it's always something.
Fade out
| Author Notes |
A majority of prose, especially scripts rely heavily on dialogue. The challenge this week is to write 100 lines of dialogue with minimal or preferably no use of sentence tags (he said, she said). A small amount of description is acceptable, setting etc' Most so all have fun. Topic will be announced at 6PM Fanstory time~Debbie A disagreement between two cartoon characters. Try for 100 lines--primarily dialogue only Have fun! |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
Characters:
Mary Queen of Socks: Aka Judy Sutton. Judy is bi-polar, schizophrenic or both, depending upon which shrink you ask. She's approaching three hundred pounds and doesn't care in the least. According to her, she's "happy and content" and reminds all of that fact often.
Mark Henry: Paranoid schizophrenic, all agree. His affection for LSD may have played a small part in his current condition. He is a superior intellect and the one person in the facility who can converse in an intelligent manner with the caretaker. He does, however, think everyone is out to get him.
Billy Boykins: Misdiagnosed with many ailments. Certainly, mentally challenged. Epileptic. His epilepsy causes many of his other conditions in the opinion of his caretaker. The doctors have diagnosed, Parkinson's syndrome and a host of other ailments.
Vernon David McMahon: Everyone calls him Dave or David. He refers to himself by his FULL name especially when declaring his RIGHTS which is often.
Kenny: A short round black man with an insane laugh and crazy eyes. He believes he imparts wisdom, but no one understands what he is talking about. Everyone goes along with him.
Rhonda Crunk: An older woman who never stops talking. She tells endless stories about people no one has ever heard of, especially about her childhood.
Donny: Also known as Dad or Don, never Mr. Larson even to professionals like Doctors or city and county officials who inspect the premises. He's the oldest person in the facility and the caregiver of all. For some reason, he is perceived as young. He is also perceived as extremely intimidating though he is friendly and outgoing and fun.
We are in the living room of a two-story house. Judy is peering up through the railings of the stairs.
Judy
"Dad. Daaaaaaad!"
A door at the top of the stairs opens and Donny storms out looking exasperated.
Donny
"What the hell do you want? I'm busy and I know you want nothingness."
Judy
"Two things. Number one, I love you and I'm happy and content."
Donny
"That's already three things".
Judy
"Dad. You're funny. Number two, there's someone at the door".
Donny
"Well, answer the damn door and tell them we don't want any and to go away.
Judy, all three-hundred pounds of her, lumbers to the door and opens it. A pizza delivery man is standing there with large eyes taking in the sight of her. He has a plastic container holding pizzas and a bag in his hand holding soda. An electronic device to record the order sits on top of the pizzas.
Judy
I'm Mary Queen of Spots. Dad said to answer the damn door.
Pizza Man
Your pizza order.
Judy
I didn't order any pizza.
She yells at the top of her lungs without turning her head.
Judy
DAD! The pizza pies are here. You have to come down here. I don't know what to do.
A voice comes from upstairs.
Donny
Tell him to put them on the table. I'm coming down with the money
The pizza man enters the house and heads towards the table.
Judy
Dad says to come in and put the pizzas on the table and he'll bring you the money.
The pizza man places the pizzas and soda on the table.
Judy
The table's in the dining room. Should we start eating now or wait for dad?
David Vernon McMahon walks into the room with a pillow, places it on the ground and then falls lightly upon it faking a gran mal seizure. Everyone ignores him. The pizza man's eyes grow wide as saucers. David gives up on his seizure and speaks.
David
I'm David Vernon McMahon, dammit, and I've got rights. You're lucky I came out of it on my own. If I would've died I could've sued, you for everything you've got. I've got rights, dammit. I'm just as good as anyone else.
Kenny starts laughing louder than one would think a human could laugh. David glares at him, but everyone else joins in except the pizza man who looks horrified.
Billy Boykins enters the dining room with a huge knife and a hunk of wood. He appears to be hacking the wood slowly to bits.
Billy
Are you the pizza man? I'm piddling. I like to piddle on the wood. Dad says I'm a good piddler. Do you know how to piddle?
Billy points the knife at the pizza man who recoils back into the chair. At the same time Donny arrives with cash in hand. He leans in to the pizza man and whispers in his ear.
Donny
Just go along with him and you'll be okay. Whatever he tells you that hunk of wood is, just say it looks exactly like that. I'll get the knife from him.
Donny backs up from the pizza man and addresses Billy.
Donny
You should put your whittling away now, Billy. It's pizza time. That's nice what you're doing there.
Billy ignores him and stays fixated on the pizza man.
Billy
What do you think this is? Do you like elephants? This is an Indian elephant. African elephants are black and don't have any ears. I could turn this into an African elephant by hacking the ears off and painting it black, but I like the ears for the fact of that's how they are able to fly.
Pizza man
Yeah ... umm ... that's a great elephant. You're very talented. I need to go now and deliver some more pizza. Is that okay? I'm sure you're hungry.
Donny backed up to the wall looking terrified. The pizza man scooted the chair back and almost tipped it over. Billy nodded his head, turned and walked back to his room. The pizza man bolted from his chair and rushed towards the door.
Donny
Hey, I need to pay still.
Pizza man
Don't worry about it. It's on me.
Donny laughed as the pizza man jumped in his car and sped off.
Donny
Okay everyone, enjoy the free pizza. I think that guy was a little nuts. He didn't even want to get paid.
Fade out
End of Act One
By michaelcahill
fade in
Characters
a man: early to mid-forties, average build and looks.
a woman: mid to late thirties, average build and looks.
We are in Maguire's Bar and Grill. It's dimly lit and not an upper crust establishment. It isn't a dive though. The clientele isn't especially rowdy. There are several regulars and it wouldn’t be off putting to someone stopping by for a drink after work or a place to get away from the grind for the evening. There's a decent band providing music, a couple pool tables and a small seldom used dance floor. The grill produces burgers and hot dogs with fries. The weekends feature steak sandwiches. The fare is better than what one would expect.
A man sits alone at the end of the bar nursing a Black Russian, his second. He's quiet but politely engages nearby patrons in idle chit chat. A woman enters through the open door and finds a table in the corner. The man, along with all the other men in the bar, take notice. They all attempt to be casual in their interest, some successfully.
The waitress approaches the woman.
Waitress
What can I get you?
Woman
Can I get a vodka tonic, please?
Waitress
Sure, no problem. I'll be right back with it. Anything to eat tonight. We have burgers, dogs, steak sandwiches all served with fries ... pretty good too, I eat here all the time.
The waitress pauses at the table and tilts her head as she lays down a napkin for the upcoming drink.
Woman
Uh ... maybe later. Just the drink for now. Thank you.
The waitress smiles and whisks away returning in short order with her drink. She places it on the napkin without a bill or request for payment.
Waitress
I'm nearby, Hon. The pickens are a bit slim tonight if that's your aim.
Woman
I've had enough pickins to last me a lifetime.
They both laugh.
Woman
I guess that made sense after all. It sounded kind of funny once it left my mouth.
Waitress
It made perfect sense, Hon, perfect sense.
The woman takes a sip and sighs as she looks around the bar. She sees the man at the end of the bar and quickly looks away. The man at the bar is engaged in conversation with an elderly man with a white beard.
Man with white beard
Sugar Ray Robinson was the greatest pound for pound fighter there ever was ... bare none! Plus, bein' a colored boy, he had it tough. These boys today just don't know. Civil rights, shoot, they just don't know.
Man
I'm not saying Sugar Ray wasn't all that. I'll give you the times too. No question there. It wasn't a good time to be black, that's a cold hard fact. But I'm talkin' boxing, that's all. And don't think my boy Ali didn't have his share of tribulations over his skin color AND his beliefs too ... you forget that. He wasn't just a colored boy as you call him, he was a Black Muslim and that scared the white man to death. They didn't even know what that was. But they knew it wasn't good and it was out to get THEM.
They both take long draughts on their drink as they jiggle with laughter.
Man with white beard
Oh, I remember his troubles. Yessir, he had his share. But you take Sugar Ray and match him up pound for pound and inch for inch ... how can you compare them? Ali was the greatest HEAVYWEIGHT, sure, I'll grant you that. No big man ever moved like that, not even Jack Johnson ...
As the man with the white beard talked, the other man kept glancing over at the woman seated by herself. More than one man had approached her and been rebuffed. She was kind about it, shyly shaking her head and smiling sheepishly. No one seemed mad though the disappointment was apparent. He tried to pay attention to the man with the white beard who became more animated with every sip. But his attention became more and more focused on the lady sitting alone at the table.
Man
I'll be right back, sir. You've got me on the run here and I don't like it. Maybe another drink will cloud your mind a bit and give me a better chance.
The man motions to the bartender who brings the man with the beard another drink. As the man rises from his chair the old man with the beard has already turned and engaged the gentleman sitting next to him in the same conversation. The man heads towards the woman sitting alone.
Man
I have the feeling you're here for the same reason I am and meeting someone isn't it, am I right?
The woman smiles and nods her head.
Woman
That's true. Now, is that a line or are we in the same boat?
Man
Honestly, I just came here to get away from myself. I'm finding that a little more difficult than I thought. If you wouldn't mind, perhaps I could sit here with you. That would keep the hounds off you and the old men who want to talk about ... EVERYTHING off me. Deal?
The man extended his hand. After a slight hesitation, she grabbed it and gave it a gentle shake. He sat down with his drink and they sat there in silence. They didn't speak or even make eye contact. What started out so easy going soon became awkward.
The band had played its last set and the jukebox was playing whatever selections folks happened to insert quarters to hear. The Neil Diamond song, Love on the Rocks filled the room.
"Love on the rocks
ain't no surprise
just pour me a drink
and I'll tell you some lies"
The man extended his hand again. It was an invitation to dance. Again, she hesitated. Again, she took his hand. The little space for dancing was close by and they embraced in silence moving to the music. When the song finished, they returned to the table.
A voice calls out; "Last call!"
The man and woman sit at the table fidgeting and their eyes lock.
Man
This probably isn't a very good idea.
Woman
Yeah, I know.
They clasp hands and leave together.
fade out
fade in
We are in a bedroom. A couple is in bed as a small bit of sunshine streams in through a corner of drawn curtains. A man stirs and rises in bed looking at a still sleeping woman. She awakens.
Woman
Oh ... well, I guess I should, ah ...
Man
Ah ... no, I mean, you really don't have to. I don't have any ...
Woman
I would ... it's not really a ... I mean, I'm sure it's not a sensible thing to do at all. It isn't a good idea, is it?
Man
I haven't had much luck with good ideas lately.
He puts his arm around her and she slides towards him. They fall gently back on the pillow, embracing.
fade out
| Author Notes |
At 6:00PM (Fanstory time), a topic will be announced for a one act (or first act of a longer piece)script. I know everyone will be having snacks and a brewsky or two watching the big game, so remember you can report in anytime this week after the indigestion and hangover subside. Hope your team wins or at least comes in second he-he-he. There should be both dialogue and some stage and/or filming directions depending on the type of script you choose to write. Most of all, have fun with it~Debbie TOPIC: Love on the rocks Can be interpreted from a breakup to two lovers talking on a rock beside a creek. Have fun. |
By michaelcahill
Fade in
A couple walks slowly along a pathway in a deserted park at night. One has a cane and their pace is slow, but they don't seem to be laboring and the one with the cane doesn't seem to rely on it. It's cloudy, the moon and stars are obscured and they appear as shadows. There is a feeling of age watching them.
Characters:
Arlene: She's cheerful, overly so and that seems to be an irritant to her partner.
Lydia: She carries a cane though she doesn't need it. She has opinions and they all seem come to by some bitter revelation. She's grumpy and appears all the more so compared to Arlene.
The two of them approach a bench under an unlighted streetlight. They both sit though neither signals the other of their plans.
Lydia leans her cane against the bench which promptly falls to the ground. She waves her hand at it, dismissing it.
Lydia
To hell with it. Piece of crap.
Arlene
You act as though it fell on purpose.
Lydia
It did. Damn disloyal hunk of nothing. I just carry it for the great style and sophistication it gives me. It also gives muggers pause. The thought of a nasty old bag chasing them with a cane is one helluva deterrent, believe me. Hell, I could be a retired secret agent with a dagger in the tip.
Arlene
Could be? I have no doubt you are. That's what I signed on for. Well, and the hot sex too. Can't forget about that. You haven't forgot, have you?
Lydia
Hot sex? Ahhh ... yes, that's when we go overboard with the Ben Gay, emphasis on Gay! Damn, I'm sharp. Well, I'm game. Thank God we're not men, eh? I hear it falls off by the time they're our age. A lot of good the blue pill does that. Why are you so frisky anyway, is your birthday coming up? My watch hasn't beeped.
Arlene
I can't help it if my youth is intimidating. I don't want to pressure you. They say that 80 is the new 70, is that true? I want to prepare myself.
Lydia rises slowly kicking her cane. She walks a few feet away.
Lydia
Eighty sucks, that's what eighty is. It's worse than seventy, bad enough to want to check out before ninety, I can tell you that.
Arlene
Dammit, honey. What's the point in bitching? It doesn't change anything.
Lydia
Yeah ... but it gets the blood flowing. Spread that blanket out. Maybe someone will walk by and get the shock of their lives.
Arlene starts unbuttoning her blouse. She stands and takes a thin blanket out of her large purse and lays it behind the bench.
Arlene
I'm hoping for cops. That's always a hoot.
Lydia walks over and picks up her cane.
Lydia
I'll be ready for 'em.
She stabs at the dark with her cane. Her skirt is already on the ground.
| Author Notes |
Write a one act play or scene from a movie or television show relating to the following theme: An old couple, one cheerful and one grumpy. You may place them anywhere from their front porch to a rocket ship to Mars or anything in between. Add as many characters as you wish or just keep it to the two of them, your choice. Remember, you're writing something that people will WATCH, so set the scene and keep your characters in motion so the viewer can SEE the action unfold. |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Fade in:
A back alley. The glow of Las Vegas lights bathes the faces of the people engaged in animated discussion around a pink 1957 Cadillac. The car has no tires and is decidedly non-functional. In fact, the hood is up and a nice warming fire blazes from where an engine would normally be. Circus Circus and several casinos can be seen in the distance and within walking distance.
Characters:
Tennessee: A self-described "Sporting man", his choice of wardrobe looks like it may have been stylish at some point before absorbing the grit and grime of the alley and who knows where.
Porsche du Pont: An aged prostitute and alcoholic who can always be found by the fire. She talks about her tricks, but it isn't clear when she encounters them as she is always in the alley.
Hal Jordan aka The Green Lantern: The group knows he's the super hero, the Green Lantern, but they keep it a secret. They all call him "Hal", especially if strangers are around.
Bill: He claims to own the Cadillac. Everyone accepts that fact. He's schizophrenic, for purposes of the alley he's known to be nutty as a loon.
Several other people, passersby, regulars who come and go and others who some see and some don't.
Bill is warming his hands over the fire when he turns and stares at the remains of an old Volkswagen. Standing there is Hubert Humphrey in front of a podium speaking into a microphone. Only Bill sees him.
Humbert Humphrey
And those Republicans, THOSE Republicans. They're the ones who brought crime off the streets and INTO THE WHITE HOUSE!
Bill's eyes get wide and then wider still as he glances to the right. Sitting on a rock outcropping is a Scotsman addressing fellow clansmen.
Old Scotsman
William Wallace killed fifty men ... fifty, if it was one.
Bill turns back to the fire and speaks.
Bill
It's time to stop being pussys and take it to these terrorists. Nuke 'em. That's what I say. Nuke 'em. Gimme a snort of that.
He extends his hand and a bottle of vodka is passed to him. The brand is obscured, but the word "VODKA" is clear.
Hal
What about the innocents who would be killed? What about the irreparable damage to the environment? You know, Bill, the fallout would be just as likely to drift right over this alley and turn you into the walking dead. Hell, that may have happened all ready.
Hal reaches over and grabs Bill's wrist as if he's taking his pulse. The whole group has a big laugh. Bill hesitates as if waiting for the results and then joins them.
Bill
True, I get your goody two shoes approach, Hal. But that doesn't do the thousands who die at their hands much good now does it?
Down at the end of the alley a couple argues in front of a Porsche whose hood is up. Steam is coming from the radiator. The couple looks well-to-do and the lady looks hopping mad. They both begin walking down the alley way. Circus Circus is at the far end of the alley.
Stranded Man:
Is it my fault the damn car overheated? Christ, women, the whole world is my fault.
Stranded Women:
You probably didn't check the water. I always tell you, check the water and oil thingies. Did you? I wouldn't tell you to check, but you never do and that's why we end up walking down alleys. Look at those bums. Are you at least going to protect me from them? I swear, all you had to do was check the water, but noooooo, that would be sensible. Why do that? Are you watching these guys? They even look at me you better step up. I've got pepper spray. I have to with you around.
Back at the Cadillac Tennessee is telling a poker story:
Tennessee
Well, Binion OWNED Binion's of course, so not many liked to sit at his table. Rumour was, it was a little too much to his advantage if'n ya catch my drift. But, I knew Binion and I knew he liked a fair fight and fancied himself a shark when it came to draw poker. Well, three aces is and isn't a sure thing. An amateur over bets and people drop like flies. I place a modest bet, furrow my brow when it's raised, hem and haw and finally call. I draw one, see? What's old Tennessee goin' for, two pair to a house, flush, straight, the don't know. I draw two ... they know, see? Hey, look what's walkin' up here. You know about the inner workings of the internal combustion engine, Bill. Maybe you could be of service.
Bill
Maybe. They look a little snooty though. I bet they don't say a hidey-ho.
The couple walk by and as far clear as they can get with their heads down.
Bill
Car troubles, Mister?
Stranded Man
Ah ... yeah, over-heated. I'll call someone ... the hotel, right up there. No problem. Uh ... thanks though.
The couple speed up the pace.
Tennessee
Heeee haawww. Watch out you two. We's a dangerous bunch here. That's Bonnie Parker there. This here is Billy the Kid and I'm The Joker. You ain't seen Batman have ya. He's a mite pissed at me.
Stranded women
There's no need to insult us. We didn't say a fuckin' word to you. Why don't you get jobs and amount to something? We work for a living. Try it sometime, it beats living in a fuckin' alley.
The group bursts out laughing.
Porsche du Pont
I make a handsome living from men married to women just like you, sweetcakes.
Bill
Mercy, Porsche. You'd kill a scrawny little twig like that. He'd run home cryin' to his momma ... unless that's his momma right there.
Stranded Woman
You damn doormat. Stand up for yourself for a change. You're going to let an old whore and a bunch of lousy homeless drunks talk to you that way? Daddy was right about you.
Stranded Man
It's Porsche, you dolts. Not Porsssshhh-uhhhhh. Porsche, one word.
Stranded Woman
Powerful.
The couple keep walking as the group around the car continue to mock them. From behind an old storage shed two men step out. One is holding a knife.
Man with knife
I'll make this simple. The jewelry, the money and the cards. You hold out, you get cut. You hand it over, you keep walking. Don't try and be brave, fancy Dan. I'd like to cut you just for fun.
The couple are both shaking. Neither say a word as they comply with the instructions.
Thug #2
Change of plans, Tony. I'm having me some of this.
He's standing close to the woman and puts his hand on her shoulder near her neck. The women freezes in terror.
Stranded Man
Look, we're giving you all we have. Just let us go, like you said. There's no need to hurt her. There's seven or eight hundred bucks there and way more in jewelry. Just let us go ... please.
While this is taking place, the group around the Cadillac has begun to run towards the scene of the robbery. The two thugs are taken aback as are the stranded couple. There's no hesitation as they knock the thug with the knife to the ground dislodging it from his hand. Porsche has a hold of the second thug's private parts and he screams as Tennessee clocks him in the jaw. It's all the two thugs can do to get away and run down the alley.
The stranded couple and the group formerly gathered around the Cadillac share a moment of awkward silence. Bill looks over by the old storage shed and sees Will Rogers sitting there.
Will
Ya know, I never met a man I didn't like.
| Author Notes |
Topic: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. I'm totally clueless. LOL But, this is how I learned everything else. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Fade in
An old gym. A crowd has gathered near the basketball court. An animated discussion is going on. The floor is worn but maintained. The hoops are regulation height and it's a full court. There's a half-court game in progress at the other end, three on three.
Main Characters:
Larry; Tall, athletic young man, early thirties. He looks ready to play some hoops and like he might be quite adept at it.
Marky: Short, long arms, big hands for his size. About the same age. He doesn't look out of shape or non-athletic, but he doesn't look like any match for Larry by a longshot.
There are various friends present of both potential players, egging them on and supporting their guy.
Marky is dribbling the ball and talking.
Marky
I know you have some pro ball under your belt, so I wouldn't want to embarrass you. Besides, with that knee injury that kept you out of the pros ... well, I'd just be taking advantage.
Larry
Are you shitting me? My knee is fine. I may not be up for the Celtics, but your little ass is a joke. You couldn't score even a point on me in your wildest dreams. I wouldn't even bother.
Larry fan 1
Tell him. You're asking for grief, Marky. My boy was drafted by the Celtics, homes. The only draft you've come in contact with is when you got pantsed in the fourth grade.
The whole group laughs heartily at that, Marky loudest among them.
Marky
Yeah, but you forgot to mention you were starving at the time. They did that to save your life. They knew what your favorite meal was.
Even heartier laughter this time.
Larry
I can see what you all are into. I'm not sure I even want to be on the court with y'all anyway.
The expected laughter came in the form from a few titters from his friends.
Marky
Anyway, I can't be beat. No one has ever beat me. It's just one of those things. Skill isn't even a factor. You might even be a better baller than I am. You'll still lose. I cannot be beat. I don't even know why myself. Ask anyone.
Marky winks at his friend Joe who smiles slightly.
Joe
It's true, bro. I bowl with a 219 average, good enough to hold my own in pro-am tournaments. This fool bowls like a girl. But, put twenty bucks on it ... well, shit, I've never beat him for some damn reason. He all of a sudden goes Dick Weber on me and I ... I just go to hell. Why? Who knows. Pisses me off. But, I can tell you. Don't even try it. He ain't lyin'
Larry
Ha! Bowling? This is basketball, fool. I was a first-round draft pick and he's a ... a midget. Are you serious? You think if I bring my A game this little man can even get a shot off? Gimme some of that good shit you're smokin'.
Marky
Well, hey, let's have a little warm up. Ya know, I'll give you a little taste and then we'll see how you feel.
Marky starts dribbling 'round the court. He starts off playing like he's uncoordinated and the whole group is in stitches. He's bouncing the ball up high over his head and off his foot. Finally, he starts dribbling smoothly and quite skillfully. Larry starts laughing and heads out after him. In seconds, he has the ball. He holds it a moment and then fires it back to Marky. This repeats half a dozen times. The crowd is on the ground laughing. They return to the group.
Larry
Get the picture?
Marky
Yep. I think I set you up for the kill pretty good. I'm thinking a simple half-court game to twenty-one.
Larry
Are you kidding? How about to one. I'll give you twenty. All you've got to do is score one. Are you down for that? How much? Or are you all talk?
Marky
I really don't want to take your money. I thought this was just a friendly game. Didn't you hear my friend? Didn't you get a taste of what I can do? You are going to lose, my friend. You want to pay me to beat you? Makes no sense.
Larry
Shit. I thought so. I ain't breakin' a sweat for free. Here's a c-note. You got ten bucks we'll call it a bet.
Marky shakes his head and then starts chuckling to himself. He walks out to half court.
Marky
Remember, you forced me to do this. This was your idea. I was willing to let you slide. I tried to tell you, I am the GREATEST OF ALL TIMES!
Larry
Your outs. Just play, Fool, I'm gonna love this.
Larry fires the ball to Marky hard. Marky catches it without batting an eye. Larry backs up far and Marky dribbles towards the sidelines. Larry pursues and is all over him. Marky is practically caged in.
Larry
Make a move, sonny boy, anytime. Can't go left, can't go right, can't go straight ... can you fly? That would help.
Marky keeps dribbling. It's clear he can't get around Larry. In the blink of an eye, Marky turns and sprints towards half court. A surprised Larry follows close behind. When he hits half court, Marky unleashes a high arching hook shot in the direction of the basket. All eyes watch the ball in flight except Marky. He's walking to the group waiting by the sidelines. The ball hits nothing but net. Marky never looks up. He takes the hundred-dollar bill from Larry's friend who had been holding the bet and sits on the bench. Larry stands in the middle of the floor staring at the basket. The crowd bursts into hysterical laughter. Marky just sits there with a smirk on his face.
Marky
OF ALL TIMES!
| Author Notes |
This is in honour of Muhammad Ali's birthday. He's always been my idol and I'm not one who has idols. I always found his approach to sports and life to be the greatest fun. I loved how he'd take an ordinary match and make something huge out of it. I've always done that with simple outings like bowling or miniature golf. I'll brag and taunt, all in good fun of course. The funny thing is, it does get inside of people's heads and I've often beat far superior bowlers for instance just by putting it their heads that I'm going to. Thanks for the life tip, Mr. Ali. This is a true story. |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of violence.
Fade in
The end of the Santa Monica pier.
It's 3 AM. All businesses are dark. There isn't a boat on the water. It's cold for California, fifty-two degrees.
Dissolve to two women leaning on the rail looking out over the water. They are talking. One woman barely moves, the other is overly animated, waving her arms, gesturing and moving wildly.
Nikki: A fortyish looking gal who is actually in her fifties, but where in her fifties is known only to her. She is alluring, black hair with shocks of grey, brown eyes-almost black.
Felecia: Late twenties, confirmed. A look of innocence easily discovered to be only a look. Short blue hair, at the moment. Unable to remain still or silent.
Felecia: So, here we are. And why am I wasting my time tonight?
Nikki: Is that what you're doing? What of any consequence would you be otherwise occupied with at three in the morning? I mean, look at the vastness of the ocean, the mystery of the universe laid out before us. You have something more interesting than that to occupy the wee hours of the morning? Watching Frank snore doesn't compare, does it? He does still snore, yes?
Felecia: Yes. He snores ... when I let him sleep.
Nikki puts her hand to her mouth as if to stifle a giggle.
Nikki: I declare, that sounds like an innuendo there, dear. Is that an innuendo? Playing naughty into the wee hours, are we?
Felecia: Still do the splits, Nikki? Frank told me. Very impressive for a woman of such advanced years. I can imagine that came in handy in the bedroom. It gives death raining down from above a whole new meaning. Did you play World War Two with him, sweetheart? Pretend my face is Hiroshima, perhaps? Sounds like such lethal fun.
Nikki: Not my fault he comes crying to me, sugarplum. Why just this past weekend he complained that he tired of playing hide the freight train with you. And your germaphobia is getting out of hand. He tells me he's surprised you haven't shaved your head. I think he stops by just to remind himself of what a woman looks like.
Felecia: I'm sure it's just flashbacks of his days in the Jungles of 'Nam, sloshing through the rice paddies and all. PTSD it's called ... you decide what the P stands for. Besides, I know exactly where he was last weekend. You're just trying to get my goat and rile me up. What would he want with an old crow like you when he can have young beauty half your age-- or younger, I'm guessing.
Nikki: Does this sound familiar: Honey, I'm snowed in here at LaGuardia. I'm going to have to catch a morning flight. I'll let you know my travel plans in the morning. Hugs ... love you. I'm bushed. Gotta get some ... bedtime in now. Yeah, he was bushed all right. Well, you wouldn't know about such things.
Felecia: That bastard! Of all the women on Earth, YOU! He's dead. I'm cutting it off and mailing it to you. Then maybe I'll meet you here again and you can go for a little swim.
Nikki: Oh, my, What a temper. I've taken care of all that sweetness. I have it right here in this little paper bag.
Nikki holds up paper bag in front of Felecia. It appears wet, but in the dark the liquid is a mystery.
Felecia: Wha ... what the hell is that? What have you done?
Nikki: Just what you said. Well, YOU have done it. You poor scorned thing. Strangled him in his sleep, chopped it off and then jumped off the pier and ended your life. You never should've taken my man, bitch. I'm fifty-nine by the way, no one alive but me and you know that fact. It's a big secret.
Nikki spills the contents of the bag onto the pier and pulls a gun from her coat.
Nikki: Frank tells me you can't swim ... pity.
| Author Notes |
I don't think this needs warnings, but in case others do ... there they are. :)) Whew! I'm clueless. I'm sure glad LIJ Red and Gloria took the challenge or I'd really be stuck. LOL Tom has just announced a site contest with a 100-dollar cash prize. So, I thought we might want to focus on that as a good thing to channel our energies. There are many ways to format, but I think the simple format offered in the contest is a good way for us to learn and a way for each other's pieces to have a familiar look to them. You'll notice there isn't much competition in the script rankings here. Let's change that. Scripts are among the most lucrative areas of writing. Today's topic is: WRITE A SCRIPT ON a seemingly friendly discussion between two people, preferably female. Really, they are bitter rivals, but they are pretending to be cordial. It can be any two people if you wish. . Use the example below as a guide. 
You have plenty of time until the contest. You don't have to enter this or any challenge piece in the contest. I'm merely pointing it out since we're focusing on scripts. You MAY, however, use a challenge or practice piece as your contest entry at any time. :)) |
By michaelcahill
Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Scene One: A small high school basketball court. A few kids are playing a pick-up game when another kid comes up on them. The game stops and some of the kids run away.
Characters:
Brick: The school bully. He's large and mean. The other students are afraid of him
and he knows it.
Larry: Brick's favorite target. Larry is small, but he tries to stand up to Brick anyway.
It does him no good.
Ricky: Larry's best friend. He tells Larry to just go along with whatever Brick wants, it's easier that way.
Joe: Sides with Brick out of fear. Brick thinks he's a punk, but lets him tag along.
Various other kids, some with Brick, most just bystanders hoping to be left alone.
Fade in: Brick, Joe and a couple others come upon Larry and his friends playing basketball.
Brick: You punks can take off now. We have a reservation.
Larry: We're almost done. We'll be off in a few minutes.
Half the players on the court are already leaving.
Brick: Looks like your friends get the picture. Maybe you need it clarified.
Ricky: Just let him have the damn court. Everyone's taking off anyway. What the hell does it matter now?
Larry: It matters because it's our court. Like I said, Brick, a few minutes and we'll be done.
Brick walks slowly towards Larry with a clenched fist. Ricky starts to pull Larry away.
Brick: Better pay attention to your friend, punk. He's giving you some good advice. I'd hate to have to bruise my knuckles on your lame face.
Larry: You don't scare me ...
Ricky pushes him towards the exit gate before he can complete his sentence.
Ricky speaks to Larry outside the gate:
Ricky: Dammit, Larry, I get tired of rescuing you. Just let him have the damn court. Is it worth getting your ass kicked to play a crappy game of basketball with a bunch of nimrods? Christ.
Larry: So, I should just bend over every time he speaks. That's fine for you, but I'd rather get beat. You've got to stand up for yourself. That's what my Dad says and that's what my gut tells me.
Scene Two:
Brick and Joe are walking by the local courts at the park on the north end of town with a couple friends. They are confronted by some bigger kids who look like gang members.
Gang member 1: Hey, thanks, Homie, you found our ball.
Brick: This is our ball. You're not getting it, so don't even dream it.
Gang member 2: What? Did you call my homey an asshole? I can't believe you're walking down our street, homes, stealing our ball and then you have the nerve to call my home boy an asshole.
Brick: Screw you. I didn't say shit. This is my ball. I'm going home. I'm not looking for trouble.
Gang member 1: Well, girl, trouble is looking for you. Now, you want to go home to mommy, that's fine. Just drop our ball right there and head on home.
Joe: Drop the ball, fool. Don't be an idiot. These guys aren't playing. Are you blind? There's four of us and who knows how many of them. Leave it.
Brick stands there for a moment. He is visibly shaking. He drops the ball and starts to walk.
Gang member 2: Damn! I don't believe it. What a punk. I should kick your ass just for being a punk. But I'm feeling charitable. So, you pay the toll and you're free to go.
Brick: Toll? What toll?
Gang member 1: The toll, homes. The toll to cross our street.
Brick shakes harder. There is no masking his fear any longer.
Brick: How much is the toll?
Gang member 2: How much you got? And you others too, how much you got.
Brick, Joe and their two friends empty out their pockets. As this takes place a stranger walks up on the scene.
Stranger: What's going on here.
Gang member 1: This ain't your concern, homes. Just move along.
Stranger: I'm making it my concern. It looks to me like your robbing these boys. I don't think I like that.
The stranger walks up close to the two gang members and looks into the eyes of gang member 2.
Stranger: You boys run along now. I'm gonna hang with my new friends here.
Brick and the others stuff their money in their pockets and head for home.
Stranger: Hey, you forgot your ball.
The stranger throws the ball down the street towards Brick.
| Author Notes |
I have no idea how to write a play. Sooooo, be kind, but helpful. LOL Write a short play on the topic of: BULLYING Remember, bullying comes in MANY forms, the typical schoolyard variety, but it also exists in the workplace, relationships, politics and even here in many forms. Don't worry about format. But remember in a play that YOU provide directions and set the scene for the characters. Where are they, what are they doing, who is who, etc. You can't go wrong, so give it your best shot. :)) |
By michaelcahill
The scene opens with a young couple in passionate embrace. The atmosphere is steamy.
She whispers in his ear, "I think you're the best writer in the world, Darling."
"Yeah, but you're in love with me. Of course, you think that. I need objective opinions. How can I improve without input and instruction? I need real critique."
He breaks away and sits in front of his computer terminal. His shoulders are slumped.
His focus shifts to the computer screen, which is flashing in big letters:
| Author Notes |
The first ten seconds would be the embrace, the opening dialogue and the screen flashing FANSTORY.COM!'' I suppose this is a bit more than just "TEXT", but I'm thinking, having skipped many a youtube add, you need to GRAB the listener with something out of the ordinary. Soooo, I added the brief scenario to frame the text. I think you need something with a little more flash than someone sitting at a computer terminal writing. Remember, us listeners already have the cursor above "SKIP" and our finger pointed at "ENTER". That's what you're up against. :)) |
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