Hello,
I'm working on a sitcom set in a library. I'm just trying to get a feel of the characters, so this was a scene I wrote as an exercise. It's incomplete, and nothing much happens, so it doesn't really seem to go anywhere. But I would like some input on the characters and dialogue and...well, the jokes. Am I getting the right mood?
Ellen: Grace I'd like you to meet Rachel, our new starter.
Rachel: Hiiiii.
Grace: What do you want to work here for?
Ellen laughs.
Ellen: Oh, you'll get used to Grace, she's always playing the grumpy boots, but she's delightful really. You'll be in good hands with her.
Grace: You mean I'm getting lumbered with the new girl?
Ellen: Grace, I'd like Rachel to learn about the library from the person who knows most about it.
Grace: Well, I suppose...
Ellen: And you've probably been here since before she was born.
Grace: Alright, no need for that. If you want me to babysit, I'll babysit. Come and sit here Rachel, I'll show you how to keep your eyelids open without resorting to the use of matchsticks.
Ellen: [to Rachel] You see what I mean, you'll get on like a house on fire. Off you go Rachel, she'll look after you, and I'll come back for you later.
Grace: Yeah, when the smouldering has stopped.
Rachel sits, Ellen leaves.
Rachel: [Nodding in the direction of Ellen] She's lovely, isn't she?
Grace glares at Rachel.
Grace: So, what are you doing in this rock-pool of wisdom I like to call 'Aristotle's Lagoon'?
Rachel giggles nervously.
Rachel: I don't know.
Grace: Right. Well, I'm glad to see the selection and interview process is up to its usual standards. Plucking out the intelligentsia and casting them on the compost heap of life in favour of the mundane.
Rachel pretends to understand what she's saying.
Grace: What I mean is; how did you come to work here?
Rachel: Oh, I've got kids...
Grace: Oh good Lord, Darwin would have a fit.
Rachel: ...and it's difficult to get a decent job-share anywhere. The library seems really flexible though.
Grace: Well, we pride ourselves on catering to the lowest common denominator.
Rachel: That's maths, innit? You sound very clever. I was a bit nervous about coming here with all the clever people.
Grace: Well don't worry; I'm the exception not the rule. You'll get along fine...with Ellen.
Rachel: But Ellen seems quite clever too.
Grace: You're joking. Ellen doesn't know Jack Kerouac from Jacques Chirac. I'm not kidding; at her last book group meeting she told everyone that she thought 'On the Road' was an astounding first novel for someone with English as a second language.
Rachel: Would you like to see some pictures of my children?
Grace: No.
Rachel gets some photo's out of her pocket.
Rachel: Look, aren't they sweet?
Grace: Mmmm.
Rachel: I'm still potty training the youngest at the moment.
An old lady walks in.
Grace: Oh good, a customer. How can I help you madam?
The old woman is too out of breath to talk. She leans on the desk dramatically and hyperventilates.
OLD DEAR: All those...stairs...such a long...way...
GRACE: Alright, don't milk it.
RACHEL: Why don't you have a sit down, love?
GRACE: Don't encourage her!
OLD DEAR: Now...why won't my bus pass work?
RACHEL: Bus pass?
GRACE: Yes. Two things worth noting here. Firstly, the council decided that this year the library should issue all pensioners' bus passes in the borough. And secondly, this lady seems to be mistaking me for gypsy Rose Lee. [To the Old Lady] Have you got it with you?
OLD DEAR: Oh, wait a minute.
She empties the contents of her handbag onto the desk.
GRACE: Oh that's it, snot rags all over the desk. Charming. [Pointing at a tissue] Look, that one's got deep vein thrombosis in it. Look at it, I can see it throbbing from here.
OLD DEAR: [Handing her the bus pass] Here it is.
GRACE: Yep, that's what I thought. We went through this last week, Mrs Baker. [Reads from the pass] Expired in 2006. The bus pass, not you...unfortunately. I can do a new one for you, but you need a new photo.
OLD DEAR: A new photo?
GRACE: Yes, dear. A photograph. It's what they use now instead of wood cuttings.
