I don't know if anyone else has ever done this, but I sat down a few weeks ago with a blank page and without any characters or any idea of a plot, I just starting improvising a sitcom on the spot. Below is what I came up with. I think it's okay in parts. I called it Lite Flyin'.
SCENE 1. INT. MORNING
LITE FYLIN’ TRAVEL AGENCY
JOHN TERRY SITS AT HIS DESK. HE IS DRESSED IN SHIRT AND TIE. FLYERS AND LEAFLETS ARE TIDALLY PLACED BY THE CORNER. A PC SITS ON THE DESK CENTRALLY. JOHN IS ON THE PHONE.
JOHN:
(Into Receiver) Hello. Lite Flyin’ Travel Agency, John Terry speaking. How may I help? Yes, John Terry. No, no not the footballer. Especially not that footballer. How could I possibly be Gazza? I just introduced myself as John Terry. When you said footballer, I thought you meant, hello? Hello?
JOHN HANGS UP.
STEVE (O.O.V):
Idiot caller.
THE PHONE RINGS AGAIN. JOHN ANSWERS.
JOHN:
(Into Receiver) Hello, Lite Flyin’ Travel Agency. John Terry speaking, how may I help? No, no not the footballer. What’s you’re enquiry? (PAUSE) Right I see, and have you tried calling the IT department in your company to fix your computer? Well, why don’t you try that? Instead of ringing any random company to see if they will send an IT technician over, you should probably check with your own IT department first. No, I won’t send over an IT technician. Judging by your American accent, I’d guess that would be a very long way to travel. Okay, bye.
STEVE BANKS SITS AT HIS DESK, WHICH IS ADJACENT TO JOHN’S. STEVE’S DESK IS UNTIDY. THERE IS A PLASTIC COFFEE CUP SAT ON THE PC MONITOR. HIS PHONE IS TWO DIFFERENT TYPES OF PHONE WELDED TOGETHER.
STEVE:
Another idiot caller.
JOHN:
Who calls a random company thousands of miles away for an IT technician?
STEVE:
No, I wasn’t talking about your caller. I was talking about mine. Some idiot phoned in asking for a holiday in Wales. I told him we don’t do that and hung up.
JOHN:
But, we do do holidays to Wales. Why would you say we don’t?
STEVE:
I wasn’t going to say on the phone that Wales is a shithole.
JOHN:
Wales is not a shithole. It’s got lots of beautiful scenery.
STEVE:
What about the war, the shooting and Sadamm Husein?
JOHN:
Are you thinking of Iraq?
STEVE:
Oh yeah, that’s it.
JOHN:
You can’t be turning away possible customers, Steve.
STEVE:
Why? It’s not like we get paid commission. It doesn’t affect my paycheck at the end of the week.
JOHN:
We get paid monthly, but I know what you mean. Still, if Mr Orson came in and saw you turning people away, he wouldn’t be happy.
STEVE:
Yeah, well.
STEVE’S PHONE RINGS. STEVE ANSWERS.
STEVE:
(Into Receiver) Yo. (Pause) No, no, I wouldn’t go to France. It’s awfully rude at this time of year.
STEVE HANGS UP.
STEVE:
I know. I turned away another person. Let’s hear it then.
JOHN:
No, no, the rules don’t apply when it comes to France.
JOHN AND STEVE TOGETHER:
Shithole.
CLAIRE DOWNES ENTERS, TAKES OFF HER COAT AND THROWS IT AT THE COAT HANGER, KNOCKING IT DOWN. SHE THEN SITS AT HER DESK, WHICH RIVALS STEVE FOR UNTIDINESS. HER PHONE IS THE OTHER HALVES OF STEVE’S PHONE WELDED TOGETHER. HER PC ALSO HAS A COFFEE CUP ON THE MONITOR.
CLAIRE:
Morning.
JOHN AND STEVE TOGETHER:
Morning.
JOHN:
You’re late, Claire.
CLAIRE:
Ten past nine. It’s not that bad.
JOHN:
You were supposed to be here at nine.
CLAIRE:
So, I’m ten minutes late.
JOHN:
Nine yesterday. So, you’re actually twenty-four hours and ten minutes late.
CLAIRE:
Yesterday, I was off.
JOHN:
Why were you off?
CLAIRE:
I had the painters in.
JOHN:
(Uneasy) Ooh. Right, I want nothing to do with that. Those problems are nothing to do with me. But, you know the rules. When it’s your time of the month, you’ve got to got to your room and stay there until closing.
CLAIRE:
No, I literally had the painters in. I was decorating my house.
STEVE:
You had the day off to decorate your house?
CLAIRE:
Yeah.
STEVE:
Ace.
JOHN:
(Reading a book) If you were off yesterday, how come it’s not in this?
JOHN HOLDS UP THE BOOK. IT’S ENTITLED “THE WHO’S SUPPOSED TO BE IN AND WHO’S NOT BOOK”.
CLAIRE:
I must have forgot. It’s no big deal. You take things far too seriously, John.
JOHN:
No I don’t. I take them the exact amount of serious legally allowed by law.
STEVE:
You do take things too seriously mate. Remember that time you threw a brick at a child because he couldn’t pronounce words properly? It’s called a lisp, man.
JOHN:
What? I’ve never thrown a brick at a child.
STEVE:
Ah, see. There you go again. You took that seriously, didn’t ya?
JOHN:
You were accusing me of throwing a brick at a child. What was I supposed to do? Nod along and say, “A brick a day, keeps the children at bay”?
CLAIRE:
Just lighten up.
JOHN:
Hang on. Are you two trying to suggest I’m boring or something like that?
CLAIRE:
Well, when was the last time you went out?
JOHN:
Does going to the shops for a pint of milk count?
STEVE:
Yes.
CLAIRE:
No, of course it doesn’t.
JOHN:
So, I haven’t been out much, recently. It doesn’t mean I’m boring. I mean, I bought a Bee Gees album, once.
CLAIRE:
But, you do everything, far too ‘by the book’.
JOHN:
There’s nothing wrong with doing things properly.
CLAIRE:
Yeah, but you take it a bit too far sometimes. Don’t get us wrong. We still like you.
STEVE:
I don’t.
CLAIRE:
You don’t have to worry about what Mr Orson thinks all the time.
STEVE:
Yeah, remove your lips from his ass, man.
JOHN:
I’m not a suck up. Bloody hell, I’m being accused of everything under the sun. I like things to be done correctly. I’m not a yes man.
MR ORSON (.O.O.V):
John, come in here a second. I want to put my feet up. I need you to get on all fours.
JOHN:
Right away, sir.
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I have no plans to take this any further.
