In The Closet
Intro.: annoying jingle, graphics of a sunrise...
An Indian guy of indeterminate years and inoffensive visage sits, in a studio so narrow he's forced to squeeze his shoulders inwards and hold his hands a la Mr. Burns, behind a desk.
Crispian:
Mooornin' Chiiildren! It's 10:30am! It's meee!
His name appears bottom left of screen, Crispian Shingles, and he surveys it smugly 'til it fades.
Crispian:
And once again we're... In The Closet! With me...
His name briefly reappears, which he regards smugly while nodding.
Crispian:
So, welcome to The Closet!
Crispin gestures the cramped studio, which forces him to stretch his arms directly over his head. His hands point, with small gestures, to the many tiers of over-stuffed shelves above his head. He drags his arms back down.
Crispin:
It's a lovely mornin', en it, kiddies? But, Kiddies: it's 10:30! You know what that means! I know what that means! Social Services knows what that means: You should be at school! Right now! Which does, yes, call into question why these shows for Kiddies are put on durin' school hours... Oh! You are at school? Silly me! ... Then why- ah! Teacher got a hangover? Forgot to plan the lesson? Leaving in two weeks to be a lion tamer?
Well. Any old aitch, let's get the aitch on with this: Let's... do the Post Slot!
Crispin reaches up arms again, awkwardly, and feels on one of the shelves for the post...
Crispin:
...Not in that way, Kidlets.
... His hands have still not found what they are feeling for. He stares in to cam while searching...
...Still not found it... Crispin is now facially irate, and his hands slap petulantly at random shelves, dislodging their contents, which rain down on him. He sifts through what has fallen onto his desk.
Crispin:
(Sifting) Post...Post...give-up the ghost... Ah! Here they are! I'll just pop this under the camera so's thou canst see it betterly, Kiddie-babs... And, this one's for Happy Birthday, Eleven, London...
Slammed under a close-up of a dreadfully drawn card depicting ...colourful, humanoid blobs.
Crispin:
Hmmm... Not sure what that is... Please see your teacher! Haha! Well, unless they're not too busy of course. But if they are, they'll probably just pop you down in front of this show, so... I'm basically your teacher! Without being... of course... underpaid.
Well, I'm sure that whatever was depicted in this daubing will very soon be coming up later. Just like breakfast. On a catwalk.
Crispin roughly sweeps away the card and slams another under cam. It depicts a puppets show.
Crispian:
This one's for Happy Bithday Susanna, Twelve years old today! And on her card, can you see, is Cora and all of her friends! Yes, this is more like it, at least there's hope for you, Suzie, what with your artistic parents. And already Twelve, Sooz! Well done! That's quite an age! And, Sue, I promise you that from this point onwards: Life's all roses!
Crispin sweeps away card and replaces with another. It depicts Spot The Dog.
Crispin:
Spot The Dog. Spot the Dog...
Crispin lifts up flap on card to reveal a photograph of a sweet little baby.
Crispin:
Ah! There she is.
Crispin tears card and flings it airwards.
Crispin:
Now! As to our first show: I'd Rather You Than Me.
have written an ep. of a Math's Is Fun show and an ep.of a puppet show, too, which'll follow on from this intro.
does allbody understand the stage directions? is there anything that should be removed? not many good lines in it, so are there any you can think of to include?