British Comedy Guide

Failed Sitcom trials entry

Be cruel to be kind.

THREE;

INT. George's LIVING ROOM - AM

Two men, 30s, sit either side of a table, centre stage, pondering over a map, amid unheard muttering. Two glasses of water balance on the table edge.

(GEORGE, dressed in corduroy trousers and chequered shirt, stabs his finger down on the map).

GEORGE
How about the sticks? A nice, rural retreat on the moors.

(CECIL rises from his seat, stretching emphatically. He fiddles with his posh designer suit, overly fussy)

CECIL
Oh, no surprise there then! A rural delight miles from the basic of necessities.

GEORGE
Nowt' wrong with green pastures and open views.

CECIL
Unless you have to stand in the middle of it, knee deep in the excrement of cows and sheep.

GEORGE
Your idea of open space is the large car park outside Waitrose.

(Cecil reclaims his seat, pulling frivolously on his cuffs).

CECIL
At least a car park means you are next to some form of civilisation.

GEORGE
It's a bugger getting the tent pegs in though.

(Cecil reacts alarmingly, his head motioning 'no.')

CECIL
Camping! Oh no! There is no way your getting me in a tent.

GEORGE
You never used to mind! I mean, you didn't object to the camping holidays when we were kids.

CECIL
We went and pitched in the local farmer's field, across the road. Not exactly 'going away' is it. And the only entertainment to be had consisted of cowpat hopscotch and pin-the-tail on a donkey...which was not exactly easy when you have to chase the donkey.

(George lets out a reminiscing sigh).

GEORGE
Oh, those were the days.

(Cecil takes a sip of water, pinky-finger raised).

CECIL
I'm rather more accustomed to the sophisticated lifestyle one can only find in the city. The Feng-shui philosophy, the minimalistic design, the -

GEORGE
Minimalistic design! I just thought you couldn't afford nowt, cos' you paid half a million for a glorified airing cupboard.

CECIL
You have to pay for standards. An upmarket residence, desirable postcode, exquisite dining, private garden. Most alluring.

GEORGE
Is that what their calling your three blades of grass and a dandelion is it? I got more than that in my privy.

CECIL
When you operate within the select, it's quality, not quantity, George.

GEORGE
My weeds are entirely organic, I can assure you.

(The living room door opens, revealing BRAD, 30's, dressed in baggy shorts, holey t-shirt and flip-flops. A towel is draped around his shoulders, under wet floppy hair).

CECIL
Bradley, you surprise me! Surfacing from your pit before lunch.

(Cecil brushes his jacket, repeated flicks of the hand).

BRAD
It's Brad. The name's Brad. I wish you'd stop calling me Bradley. Makes me sound so, like, not hip.

(Cecil whips out a handkerchief, dabs it in the glass of water, and wipes an imaginary mark on his jacket sleeve).

GEORGE
Will you stop faffing with your clothes you prissy.

CECIL
Excusez moi! Designer, Harvey Nicholls, Knightsbridge.

(Brad steps forward, model pose).

BRAD
Cast-offs, Oxfam, High Street.

CECIL
Well you wouldn't want to detract from your hobo image as you've spent so long perfecting it. I'm surprised you even bothered to have a shower.

BRAD
(puzzled)
Shower!

(Cecil ruffles his hair).

CECIL
Your wet hair.

BRAD
Oh, I ain't had a shower. I still got a bit of a hangover from last night. Woke myself up with a dip in the trough out back.

CECIL
You disgusting creature.

BRAD
Why? I waited until the donkey had finished.

GEORGE
That's Dolly, me new ass.

BRAD
(to George)
She's getting overly affectionate. Tried to nibble at me carrot last night!

GEORGE
I told you to fix that window.

CECIL
Oh yes! How is your humble abode? The orange tin on wheels!

BRAD
Technically, it's just an orange tin now, since I sold the wheels.

CECIL
You sold the wheels!

BRAD
I had a bit of a cash-flow problem, so -

CECIL
So you sold an essential component that enables it to actually move. I, I can't fathom your line of thinking. Where is the sense in that?

(A carefree shrug of the shoulders, and Brad rolls the office chair over to the table, saddling the chair backwards).

BRAD
Well, I always fancied a caravan.

(Brad gathers up the map, rotates it left and right, flipping it over, puzzled).

BRAD
So where we going then? You fancy a bit of sun, the open sea, the -

George
The stench of seaweed, the sewage, the seagulls stealing your pasties.

BRAD
But they'll be women in bikinis!

CECIL
Typical Bradley. Follow the signs of flesh.

BRAD
Not all of us have a phobia of the female species.

CECIL
I haven't got a phobia. I just prefer to get to know them first, and at least be able to recall their name, unlike some.

BRAD
I can't help my natural allure.

CECIL
No, you can't help much with anything, can you. Look, what about heading off to the city. Be a change for you. I'll show you fine foods, and we'll see a show, sample some fine wines. There's a lovely French restaurant down the road from my place. Simply exquisite.

GEORGE
I'm not paying fifty pounds for a glass of Chateau Pee or trying to live off a plate of designer cabbage that wouldn't feed a hamster. If I want to eat a cabbage, I'll go out back an' munch on me veggy patch.

CECIL
Well, lets all go for a week in the country then and eat a'la turnip and sample the varied waters from vintage cattle trough.

GEORGE
At least you haven't got to walk around all the time with your nose stuck up like its been taped to your forehead.

CECIL
I don't know why I bother. We do this every year and where's the furthest we've been?

(Cecil grasps the map, screws it up, tossing it overhead).

BRAD
We been to the pub.

CECIL
And what a memorable experience that was! I tried it once and ended up having nightmares for weeks.

GEORGE
You know, Martha still talks about you all the time, asking when your coming back down.

CECIL
Well I hate to disappoint, but that was the first and last time I step over that threshold.

BRAD
That was a good Christmas do, that year.

CECIL
Well you two were not chased around all night by a teletubby waiving mistletoe.
(He shudders.)
I can still feel those bristles against my cheek.
(rubbing cheek)
Gave me a God awful rash.

GEORGE
You got away lightly. Brad, here, got so bladdered couple of months back, he woke up with her in the van. I took him out a morning cuppa and there was Brad, face wedged against the window.

(Brad motions in bereaved agreement).

GEORGE
Then we had a flash of the teletubby without a costume.

(Cecil, clearly dismayed, turns away, head buried in hands).

CECIL
And you wonder why I moved away. At least you can avoid the undesirables in the city.

BRAD
Ditto here.

(Message beep on a mobile phone. Cecil retrieves a mobile, latest design, from inside his suit jacket. He fumbles with the phone. Frozen expression as he stares at the screen).

BRAD
Is that the latest model? Lets have a look.

(Brad extends an arm, ready to grasp the phone. Cecil slaps his hand. Brad withdraws, puppy faced).

CECIL
I'm not letting you put your greasy fingers all over my phone when you spend most of the day sticking them in every available orifice. It was so nice of you to greet me yesterday with one finger glued to your inner ear, and the other...on your -

(Cecil points tentatively at Brads mid-section).

CECIL
Your...bits.

BRAD
(proudly)
If it itches, then I'll scratch it.

(Three message beeps on the mobile, one after the other. Cecil stands. He paces the floor, eagerly).

GEORGE
Suddenly Mr Popular, aren't we!

BRAD
(stifled)
Will wonders never cease.

CECIL
As a matter of fact, it's regarding my imminent promotion. It looks like I will be moving further up in the world.

GEORGE
Promotion, eh!

CECIL
The board are keen to shake things up a bit. Obviously they will be keen to reward an apt professional like myself, one who will add a bit of debonair upstairs.

GEORGE
Hark at you! You ain't half acting like a snob. With and without an 's.'

CECIL
(excited)
Any minute now. A call from Jones, passing on the board's recommendation.

(A pompous tilting of the head as he parades up and down).

CECIL
This will obviously mean a bigger office....a large plaque on the door...and I'll have to see my tailor, naturally.

BRAD
Don't suppose he'll fit you with a burkha by any chance?

(The mobile phone rings. Cecil glances the number and heads for the door).

CECIL
I'll take this outside.
(to himself)
Head of Department, Cecil Dearing

(Cecil exits, closing the door behind).

BRAD
If he gets any more pomp, he'll burst.

(Brad stands up, and proceeds to strut up and down the room, an air of the upper class).

BRAD
(cockily mimicking Cecil)
Head of Department, Cecil Dearing.
(outstretched arm)
How pleased to make you acquaintance? Yes, I am spiffing aren't I.

(George rises, spreading arms out to the side).

GEORGE
(posh, ladylike voice)
Why darling, it's been ages!

BRAD
(posh voice)
Mimee, old dear. Where have you been?

(Brad and George mimick a French greeting, two air kisses).

GEORGE
(posh ladylike voice)
Oh, Paris, darling, then down to the villa in St. Tropez. You really must come visit.

BRAD
(posh voice)
Splendid, splendid.

(Brad takes a bow).

BRAD
(posh voice)
Would you do me the honour of this dance?

(George claps enthusiastically with the grace of a lady, excitedly skipping on the spot. George and Brad embrace, and proceed with a short, somewhat 'camp' dance).

(George slumps back into a chair, amid sniggering. Brad continues to twirl around the room).

GEORGE
Being posh is too much hard work.

BRAD
He must graft, I'll give him that, cos' you peel off the posh wrapper, you'll find he's a cheap filling.

CECIL (OSV)
Noooooooo!

(Brad stops abruptly. Stares direct at the door).

(OS - A loud, girly scream, from Cecil).

INT. GEORGE'S LIVING ROOM - PAY-OFF - AM

Cecil, vacant expression, re-enters the room, shuffling his feet. The front of his suit jacket is smeared with a patch of dirt.

He closes the door, backs up to the wall, mumbling incoherently, then slides to the floor.

GEORGE
Go well, did it?

CECIL
I...I don't believe it!

BRAD
I think we can assume that he'll be moving. Just not upwards.

(George saunters over to Cecil. He offers his hand to help him up. Cecil reluctantly accepts, rising from the floor. George puts a comforting arm around Cecil's shoulder).

GEORGE
So you didn't get the promotion, then. It's not the end of the world, bruv.

CECIL
(shakily)
It's much worse than that. I've been made....redundant...and assaulted by...by a donkey.

BRAD
Dolly been sampling upmarket nibbles, has she.

CECIL
It's not remotely funny. I've just been fired and violated. I feel so naked.

(Cecil regains a seat at the table. Deep sigh, he slumps his head down onto crossed arms. George pulls a chair over next to Cecil, a reassuring pat of the back to his brother).

CECIL
(distraught)
And your pet has also disposed of my mobile phone during said violation.

(Brad stands rigid, deep in thought, a stroke of the chin).

CECIL
This is THE worst day of my life.

BRAD
No matter what happens, there's always a silver lining on the horizon.

CECIL
(weakly)
Really.

GEORGE
You just have to be optimistic, that's all.

CECIL
But working at Hargreaves, Hargreaves, Fickle, Wilbur, Mallet and Sons was everything.

BRAD
Including being a mouthful. I'm gonna leave you two to it. I'm going to my camper. Wait for my new mobile phone to be delivered.

(Brad goes to leave the room).

GEORGE
(surprised)
I didn't think you had any money?

BRAD
It was unexpected, but I'm not going to refuse.

GEORGE
Bit of luck, then. See Cecil, you can get lucky when you least expect it.

BRAD
(pleased with himself)
Yeah. Never look a gift horse in the mouth.

George
Did they give you a time, because home-delivery can be very unreliable.

Brad
I'm guessing it will probably be this afternoon, or tomorrow at the latest. All depends on the course of nature.

GEORGE
Nature!

BRAD
(pointing to Cecil)
These modern phones are quite robust, and I'm guessing Cecil doesn't want his back.
(grinning)
And it's a shame to let it go to waste.

Brad exits, with a whistle.

CECIL
I've died and gone to hell.

(Cecil bangs his head on the table, several times. George offers a comforting pat on the back).

GEORGE
Never mind, Cecil. Leave everything to me. I'll sort us out a nice holiday, away from it all. A lovely week camping on the moors.

THE END

Hello Mook,

I like what you've done and the characters pop off the page and are distinct entities.

The only criticism I have with it was that the humour, characters and situations seemed a bit 'old fashioned'. There's nothing wrong with that as 'Last of the Summer Wine' and 'Vicar of Dibley' seem kind of old fashioned to me.

I thought it was well written by not really my sense of humour, but well done nonetheless.

I really liked the pay-off scene a lot, it made me laugh and I suddenly found that I liked the characters much more than I did originally.
One problem I had was that I kept imagining much older men (last of the summer wine age) because the names don't sound like 30-somethings. Also, I liked the first part better on a second read through, because at first I didn't realise that they were brothers, and couldn't understand why they would be going on holiday together - so maybe throw another 'Bruv' in early on.
Overall though I did like this and thought it was clever and funny and I liked the characters.

Thanks Renegrade, for taking the time to read through the script. I agree that the script is 'old-fashioned' and somewhat 'safe' and, having re-read it several times, admit that it needs improving in all areas. I didn't feel secure in attempting anything 'cutting-edge' being new to comedy writing, and put forward the script for experience.

Thanks Diehard. I must admit that when I re-read it today, there was no reference to them being brothers early on, and this confused the story. As for the choice of names, yes, they are a poor choice, but easily changed - (I'll probably pick some other bad names, as I'm useless at choosing character names and it shows).

I'm glad you liked the pay-off scene. I was very apprehensive over this, and felt that it was perhaps a little jumbled.

Agreed that it started making much more sense once I realised they were brothers. The idea of the citified lad losing his job because of the recession, and having to reluctantly return to his rural roots, certainly has legs as a premise. You have three strongly distinct characters, with a bond, but also sufficient conflict between them to generate plots. (You might consider making George disapproving of Brad's wastrel ways, to make the dynamic more interesting.) The humour is a little gentle, and you do not perhaps make every line tell, but as you become more familiar with your characters it should become sharper and, with the characters you have to work with, coarser. Definite potential.

Thanks for reading Timbo.

I was never sure that the characters had enough merit in their own right, but through the current feedback, I appear to be working along the right lines, but need to sharpen. Yes, the humour is gentle, but I lack the confidence to 'push the boundaries,' so to speak.

Hi Mook,

I'd just echo what everyone said really. This probably wasn't suited to the sitcom trials format as something of a slow burner. When you only have 10 mins you need a laugh out loud moment or two early. The brother thing also needed clarifying earlier, as pointed out. Not at all bad though.

Thanks for reading, Ponderer. A learning experience for myself and I take a lot of confidence from the feedback recieved, by you and everyone else.

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