Skit Comp 9 - 16.9.12

Easy shanking so congratulations to GAPPY and OVERLAY for winning. Get ludicrously yet legitimately poo-faced and PM me one apiss for next week's topic please.
Hence:

Votes - Points - Name
3 - 10 - Overlay, Gappy
2 - 5 - Lazzard, Shandonbelle, Tuumble
Special mention: Tursiops, Judgement Dave

Your new subject: CLASS (chosen by Tursiops)

Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sexual preferences or inside leg measurement, except the kid at school who masturbated all over my rugby kit, I know who you are.
Can be a sketch, joke, lyric or anything else as long as it's original and vaguely linked to the topic. Please try and only post your entry/vote and no other posts.
You can edit your entry as much as you want, up until the closing time.

Competition Closes: 16.9.12

Overall Leader Board is now:

Points - Position - Name

20 - 1 - Lazzard
16 - 2 - Gappy
11 - 3 - Ishy
10 - 4 - Overlay, Tursiops
5 - 5 - Shandonbelle, Tuumble, Sootyj
1 - 6 - Steve Sunshine

WHO'S A CLEVER BOY?

SCENE. INT. LOCATION CLASSROOM

TEACHER IS AT FRONT OF CLASS OF 12/13 YEAR OLDS.

TEACHER:
Right, now class we're going to have a quick general knowledge. Okay, who can tell me the capital city of Australia?

A LARGE NUMBER OF HANDS SHOOT UP KNOWINGLY WITH A SPATTERING OF ENTHUSIASTIC 'ME' 'ME' CALLS TO ATTRACT ATTENTION.

TEACHER: (POINTING TO BOY)
Andrew Green

AG:
Canberra

TEACHER:
Excellent. Who can tell me the world's longest river?

A SMALLER SHOW OF HANDS AND A FEW HESITANT 'ME' CALLS.

TEACHER: (POINTING TO BOY)
Andrew Green.

AG:
The Nile.

TEACHER:
That's correct, very well done. Now, who can tell me the world's highest mountain?

ONLY A COUPLE OF ARMS ARE EXTENDED AND NO NOISES

TEACHER: (POINTING TO BOY)
Andrew Green

AG:
That's Mount Everest.

TEACHER:
I'm really impressed Andrew. Okay class, who can tell me the deepest place in all the oceans?

ONE HAND ONLY IS PUT UP WHILST THE REST OF THE CLASS SHOWS A RESIGNED LACK OF INTEREST.

TEACHER: (POINTING TO BOY)
Andrew Green

AG:
It's Challenger Deep at 35,838 feet.

TEACHER:
Well that's absolutely correct. I must say Andrew you really are so incredibly intelligent. Class, I think we should all give Andrew a tremendous round of applause.

TEACHER BEGINS CLAPPING AND URGES CLASS TO DO SAME.

TEACHER: (GESTICULATING UPWARDS)
And standing!

CLASS ALL GRUDGINGLY STAND WHILST CLAPPING

TEACHER: (BECKONS CLASS TO STOP AND SIT DOWN)
Okay. Andrew, please stand (He does). You have shown the rest of the class how wonderfully talented you are and I'm sure they appreciate having you as someone they can look up to and aspire to.

AG:
Thanks mum.

END

[Door FX]

TEACHER: Ah, yes, come in. I wish to talk to you - sit up straight, boy - I wish to talk to you about your recent efforts: how are you finding the class?

PUPIL: I enjoy it, Sir.

TEACHER: I see. And yet your work so far this year has been, not so much sloppy or lackadaisical, as is so often the case, but...well, you turn in all your assignments on time, and they're always scrupulously neat and yet...

PUPIL: Yes, Sir?

TEACHER: Magritte, I don't understand them. Art History is a subject in which there is no right and wrong, per se, and yet, in your case...there is. Take last week's test. Now, I asked you all to write a short description of 10 paintings, and have a guess at who the artist was. It was just a bit of fun, to instigate a discussion, but, look, underneath this wonderful El Greco you've written, "This is not a pipe".

PUPIL: Yes, Sir.

TEACHER: Why, Magritte?

PUPIL: Because it isn't, Sir.

TEACHER: But it's not the answer to the question.

PUPIL: But it is a fair description, Sir.

TEACHER: Yes, but....yes, I know it's not a pipe, it's an El Greco, but why do you mention it? Why do you mention it in all ten answers?

PUPIL: I didn't, Sir!

TEACHER: No. No, we have six "This is not a pipes"s, a couple of "Don't reckon this is a pipe"s, a lone "Pipe status: negative", and, right at the end the frankly baffling, "I can well believe it's not butter. Or a pipe".

PUPIL: I stand by that, Sir.

TEACHER: Do you? And do you stand by last week's essay? I set the question, "Discuss Constable's liberal use of white paint to delineate his forms in relation to the birth of Impressionism?", and you wrote "He never". Then you drew some pipes. And then you denied it; look, here in black and white.

PUPIL: They're not pipes, Sir.

TEACHER: Magritte! Are you an imbecile? Hmm, boy? No, I don't think you are. I think you're an intelligent child, so I can only assume you take this antagonistic stance to undermine my authority and impress your classmates. I warn you, if this cavalier attitude continues you'll be for the high jump, boy, as sure as eggs is eggs.

PUPIL: They're not eggs.

TEACHER: Right! Detentions every day next week! What do you make of that?

PUPIL: A non-pipular polygon of some nature?

TEACHER: Get out! I shall talk very seriously with the Headmaster about your behaviour tomorrow morning, and your future at this school. Until then you can think on what you've done; now, get out and show the next boy in as you go.

[Door opens and closed. Beat. Opens and closed again]

TEACHER: Come in, Warhol, you're in serious trouble. It's come to my attention that you've been copying...

FADE IN

TWO MEN AND A WOMAN STAND FACING THE CAMERA, ARRANGED IN ORDER OF HEIGHT, THE TALLEST TO SCREEN LEFT.

OBAMA: I look down on him (looks down to his left), because I am immensely powerful.. and he is beneath me. I am the President of the United States.

CAMERON: I look up to him (looks up to his right), because he is the President of the United States.. but I look down on her (looks down to his left), because she is beneath me. I am the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

ANGELA MERKEL: You two can both f**k off!

FADE OUT

MARRIAGE OAFS

A CLASSY RESTAURANT with posher ARABELLA and poshest SEBASTIAN.

ARABELLA Gosh Sebastian, such a divine dining space...

SEBASTIAN (nervous) Yes Arabella, there's something I want to ask you. Lord I'm nervous, never done such a thing before, but... We've been going out for eight years and I love you and you love me so... Arabella, will you - will you...?

ARABELLA Yerse Sebastian?

SEBASTIAN Will you f**k me?

ARABELLA (gasps) But it's all so sudden...

SEBASTIAN Sudden? It's been eight f**king years you bint, I've taken you to Stringfellow's, we've travelled the world, I've even met your f**king family, not so much as a fiddle. Oh and wanking me off over Kate Middleton doesn't count. I know blokes love a tight pussy, yours must be sewn up.

ARABELLA But what would Mama say?

SEBASTIAN She won't know, the silly tart's practically senile already, what you gonna film it and put on YouTube and see how many 'likes' you get?

ARABELLA But what about the house?

SEBASTIAN We can do it in the back alley.

ARABELLA And children?

SEBASTIAN I'll wear a johhny.

ARABELLA Who?

SEBASTIAN A prophylactic... Please Arabella, just one lickle f**kie-wuckie for your sweet lickle Sebastiwasti... Oh for f**k's sake, do I have to get on my knees?

ARABELLA Oh do, Sebastian.

SEBASTIAN (gets down on his knees) Please will you roger me?

ARABELLA So romantic... Of course I shall.

SEBASTIAN The things you do for a shag these days.

INT. CLASSROOM.

AN OLD JIHADI TEACHER IS STANDING AT THE FRONT OF CLASS. THE PUPILS ARE YOUNG JIHADIS.

TEACHER:
Ok gentlemen. Today we are going to analyse one of the most successful jihadi operations, namely....(HE TURNS AROUND TO WRITE ON BLACKBOARD)... 9/11.

FX GIGGLES AS A PAPER PLANE IS THROWN FROM A STUDENT AND HITS THE TEACHER.

TEACHER:
Who's the smarty pants?

MOTHER
It so difficult to find a school where my little Peregrine will fit in.

HEADTEACHER
I can understand that you would not want him mixing with the wrong sort.

MOTHER
It's just that I want him to brought up amongst his own kind, and in a neighbourhood like this it is so hard to find a school where most of the children aren't, well...

HEADTEACHER
Tories?

MOTHER
Quite. Do I sound frightfully prejudiced?

HEADTEACHER
Not at all. And you have no need to worry, all the children here come from the right sort of families.

MOTHER
Honest, working types?

HEADTEACHER
Absolutely. Jocasta here's mother was in the last Labour Cabinet, Tarquin's father is an alternative comedian and little Tamara's writes gritty kitchen sink dramas angrily excoriating the privileges of class.

MOTHER
Do you have a problem with the number of children from ethnic origins?

HEADTEACHER
Not at all, there's enough to ensure that all the pupils to have a black friend.

MOTHER
Just the one though?

HEADTEACHER
Obviously. Little Iwelmo's mother is a columnist for the Guardian. You've read her? She is ever so eloquent about the prejudice she experienced during her upbringing.

MOTHER
It can't have been easy being the only pupil at Roedean with dreadlocks.

HEADTEACHER
I do think it is so important that opinion formers support state education.

MOTHER
Yes, particularly when school fees are so high. If we had had to send Peregrine private I should have had to let go the cleaner. Or at least cut her wages. You don't seem to have any children from more disadvantaged backgrounds?

HEADTEACHER
I am afraid that is down to rising property prices...

MOTHER
Tell me about it, we paid a packet. It's worth it though.

HEADTEACHER
It does mean poorer families have been priced out of the catchment area.

MOTHER
Yes, so my Peregrine won't be dragged down by any ghastly chavs.

HEADTEACHER
And we can keep up our place in the league tables. Will Peregrine be staying for school meals? On the menu today we have a rustic duck cassoulet...

END

Author's note: this rip off of the frost report is totally unrelated to ting ting's rip off of the the frost report

INT: A Room
Three men of equal height stand facing the camera

LEFTIE: I'm middle class. I look down on him but up..

MIDDLE-IE: No, no, sorry. I'm middle class. You're upper class.

LEFTIE: I am not. I'm middleclass.

RIGHTIE: and me!

MIDDLE-IE: (To LEFTIE) You are not! You live in South Ken, you've a country pile out in Sussex somewhere, you play polo for f**k's sake!

LEFTIE: Ah! But I watch X-Factor....and the footie. Chelsea! Chelsea! Chelsea! Anton Ferdinand, I ask you.

MIDDLE-IE: What the f**k are you on about? And you! (Turning to RIGHTIE) You were on Jeremy Kyle, you're on jobseekers, the CSA are after you for payments

RIGHTIE: Yeah but I've got a conservatory, a cardigan and I love those little triangular sandwiches, innit?

MIDDLE-IE: I...What?! What's that got to do with anything?! I can't work like this!

(MIDDLE-IE storms off)

RIGHTIE: Fancy a pint geez?

LEFTIE: Spiffing

INT. CLASSROOM DAY

MISS WILKINSON: So beavers live in a lodge, badgers in a set and bees in an apiary.

DANNY gets up and starts acting like a monkey.

DANNY: Like this miss?

MISS WILKINSON: Stop that, Danny.

DANNY: (mimicking a chimp) Ooh ooh ooh.

MISS WILKINSON: Right, that's enough, Danny Jones. You think you're the class clown don't you?

DANNY: No Miss. I don't. (Pointing across the classroom) I think that's Billy Moore.

The boy DANNY is pointing to, BILLY, is seen. He's in full clown costume, squirting his lapel flower at another student.

MISS WILKINSON: Right I've had enough of this lip - you're going to see the headmaster.

CUT TO INT. HEADMASTER's OFFICE

We see DANNY stood in the headmaster's office.

HEADMASTER: (Offscreen) Danny, Danny - what are we going to do with you? This is the third time this week that Miss Wilkinson has had to send you to me.

DANNY: I'm sorry, Sir - it's not my fault.

HEADMASTER: It never is, is it Danny?

DANNY: But it isn't. Miss Wilkinson always let's Billy get away with clowning about but she picks on me for the same things.

HEADMASTER: I can't believe that Danny - and saying that is only going to make your punishment worse.

DANNY: But it's true, Billy's always getting away with stuff.

HEADMASTER: Stop your excuses. I've decided what will be an appropriate punishment to teach you a lesson. Now stand still and this won't hurt.

DANNY: Everyone's biased just because you're Billy's Dad-

DANNY is cut short as a custard pie is planted firmly in his face. We finally see the HEADMASTER, dressed in full clown costume much like Billy's. A name plate on the desk says "Mr Moore".

HEADMASTER: That's got nothing to do with it. Now go home and count yourself lucky you've not had the bucket of glitter over you as well.

HEADMASTER honks his old-fashioned squeezy car-horn and DANNY leaves.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Well I'm hoping there's something here, but think it may rely on how well the visuals were done...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
EDIT: So I posted this then read the other entries and see that GaryD has a family relation in the school/classroom - hopefully it's different enough...

Maybe I should have gone with my first idea that involved a low class copper stopping a higher class driver (in a car voted best in class) who was on his way to apiary class, and finding what he thinks may be class A drugs in the glove compartment (they're not class A, they're just Class Bee drugs)... But I never got around to fleshing that out.

A YOUNG LADY (BETH) WALKS INTO A CLASSROOM. THERE IS AN OLDER MAN (BERNARD) BEHIND A DESK SURROUNDED BY BOOKS.

Bernard:
Come in, come in, I'm Bernard Eimer but of course you already knew that.

Beth:
Well I didn't actually but hello Mr Eimer was just trying to get some information about-

Bernard:
Writers Class!

Beth:
Yes that's the one.

Bernard:
And you wanted to know what qualifications I have to run a writing course.

Beth:
Not really, I was only-

Bernard:
Well if you'll let me finish then I'll tell you. I've been writing for over 20 years now. Am I any good? It doesn't matter whether I'm any good or not. I am good by the way but that doesn't matter.

Beth:
I'm sure you are, but all I wanted was-

Bernard:
You're probably wondering whether I've ever been published.

Beth:
Not especially, as I was saying I just-

Bernard:
Well if you'll just stop badgering me then I'll tell you.
I have had over 5 short stories published but who's counting? It was 6 if you must know, big deal, It really doesn't matter.

Beth:
No of course not as long as you-

Bernard:
I don't really write to be published anyway, I only write for myself, and if other people like what I create, then all well & good.

Beth:
Yes I agree, you need to write for yourself and then..

Bernard:
I mean If I had written with the sole aim of being published I could have had 7 or 8 stories published by now but who's counting? Not me that's for sure.

Beth:
I understand, all I really needed was-.

Bernard:
When you join writers club you leave your ego at the door. I can't promise to make you as talented as me because this isn't about how very talented I am.

Beth:
Sorry I'm in a bit of a rush. What days-

Bernard:
What days indeed, What crazy days they were back then.
I was like you once, young & inexperienced searching for a genius like I am these days who was willing to impart some of his wisdom on who I was back then just like you are now.

Beth:
Maybe I could just take a leaflet or something?

Bernard:
The world of writing is a fickle mistress, Incredible talent can get you only so far as I've discovered to my cost, but there will always be someone with half the talent and twice the jealousy holding you back.

Beth:
I'm starting to think this is a mistake..

Bernard:
Yes my young protege, you will make many mistakes along the path to becoming a writer almost as successful as me.
I shall teach you how to learn the craft, take the knocks & above all learn from those mistakes.

(looks up to notice that the young lady has left and he is talking to himself)

Bernard (CONT) Well, she won't get very far with that kind of attitude.

END

Judgement Dave, who's to say what's original.
Different enough methinks.
Good luck.

As for your alternative, I imagine if the police had pulled over the higher class driver he would have had a bee in his bonnet!

Gappy for me this week

Tough decision this week. I am certain the theme was supposed to address the class system, but I'l confess I sat in front of a blank screen for 30 minutes desperately trying to think of a class-based sketch, before copping out and bashing out something about school. So, I feel honour bound to give my vote to somebody who actually followed the rubric.

It's down to Michael & Overlay. Michael made me laugh with the situation, but I felt as though it was lacking a punchline, so Overlay it is: intelligent twist on a classic that shows that class is an extremely vague concept in Britain today. In fact, they've made what I felt to be the problem of writing a class-based sketch into the basis of one - clever.

Edit: and, no, it wasn't because they'd just oted for me! I only just spotted that.

Quote: gappy @ September 17 2012, 1:47 PM BST

...I am certain the theme was supposed to address the class system...So, I feel honour bound to give my vote to somebody who actually followed the rubric.

View original

Sorry gappy, where did it say it should have been based on the class system?

If I'd known I wouldn't have entered, being an anarchist.

Anyway, I vote gappy!

Quote: garyd @ September 17 2012, 2:17 PM BST

Sorry gappy, where did it say it should have been based on the class system?

If I'd known I wouldn't have entered, being an anarchist.

Anyway, I vote gappy!

View original

I took it to mean social class rather than school class, but I suppose it could have been meant to be vague enough to encompass both. It certainly gave me a get out when I couldn't come up with anything vaguely amusing!

Anyway, think of it lke this: you have ignored the request to write about class, therefore smashing the class system (a weeny bit).