Skit Comp 11-18.3.11

Grate stuff so congratulations to KASM for winning, no sweat! Get rat-anussed and PM me for next week's topic please.
Hence:
Votes - Points - Name

10!!!!! - 10 - Kasm
4 - 5 - Shirl the Whirl
2 - 1 - Otterfox
Speckled mention: Timbo

Your new subject: WRITERS AND WRITING
Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sex or inside leg measurement, except the kid who used to beat me up at school.
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: 18.3.11

Overall Leader Board is now:

Points - Name

176! - Mr Sunshine
154 - Otterfox
143 - Cool Mikado
140 - Kasm, Michael Monkhouse
132 - Nigel Kelly
112 - Jebsly
108 - Frankie Rage
104 - Timbo
103 - Charley Rance
98 - Fred Peters
80 - Angiebaby
66 - Jude
65 - Baumski
60 - Gerry McDonnell
56 - Alex Mahon, Scratchyr
53 - Ishy
37 - Afinkawan
34 - Don P. Musey
32 - James, Swerytd, Paul Watson
28 - Leevil
26 - Bushbaby, David Chapman
25 - Craig H
23 - Roscoff
22 - Blobster
21 - Mikey J
20 - James Harris, Kevin Murphy, Dannyjb1, Niteowl, Lazzard
18 - Tom
17 - Ellie
16 - Eggie
15 - Nil Putters, Cinnamon, Dale
14 - Reg N
13 - Badge, Stephen Birch
12 - Geoff Mutton, Will Cam
11 - Steven
10 - Stephen Goodlad, Robo, Nitram Skir, Socrates, Tom Campbell, Tommy Power, Waring
09 - ajp29, ShoePie
08 - Stylo
07 - The Giggle-O, garyd, Winterlight
06 - Little Jersey Devil, Hellboy, Wayne Lewis, John Kelly, Andrew Lynch
05 - Shirl the Whirl, Karlos the Great, Drew, Pedros, Summer G, Mannikin Bird, Tumble, Greggles, Happy Shopper, Timothy Marshal-Nichols, Rob B
04 - Andy W, losaavedra
03 - Shandonbelle
02 - Stu R, Imamazed, Slack Bladder, Paul Nash, Boits, Gavin
01 - veedeeplex, Grem, Macca, Ming The Mirthless, Minty, Shpadoinkle, Shaggy292, amillionpounds, Jake How, David Bussell, Charisma, Skibbington von Skubber, Ginger Jesus, Nick Rivers, Daddy Maz, Martin Bickle, Batman, Ray Dawson, Marion, Tooting Jo

Any ballsups, PM me please.

ACT I

Scene 1

SIMON sits at his computer sifting through script submissions. He is close to suicide. He opens a script entitled 'wheels of fire' and groans. DECLAN enters wearing a spotty dog costume and pushing a wheelchair containing a JeremyClarkson Effigy.

DECLAN

What are you reading now, Simon?

SIMON

The straw that broke the camels back

DECLAN

That's a rather shrewd title

SIMON

Why do we put ourselves through this?

DECLAN

For the money, Simon. The lovely, lovely money. Leave that for a bit and come and watch telly with me and Jezza

SIMON

Jezza?

Declan

Yeah, check this out!

DECLAN presses a button on the front of the Jeremy Clarkson Effigy

JEZZA

Power!

SIMON

Classy. We can't watch telly, remember what happened last time?

DECLAN

You mean when you fell asleep during the welding scene in Flashdance?

SIMON

No when I let you talk me into watching Hudson Hawk on Betamax

DECLAN

Respect the classix, Dawg!

There is a sound of commotion outside

SIMON

What now?

DECLAN

It'll be the underlings, I told you it was a bad idea waiting til 23:59 to send the email.

SIMON

That was payback for having to read 300 odd couple flatshare scripts where the main characters are called Nick and David

DECLAN

Fair one.

Suddenly the door bursts open. A horde of none speaking zombies move slowly enough into the room for our heroes to continue their dialogue

SIMON

You've got to be kidding me

DECLAN

Woof! Woof, woof, woof!

SIMON

What are you doing?

DECLAN

Zombies don't attack dogs. Did you think I was only wearing this costume for a one off sight gag?

SIMON

Can you concentrate on our tediously inevitable doom?

Even more suddenly a Humvee crashes through the scenery running down several none speaking zombies. FUTURE DECLAN emerges from the drivers seat.

FUTURE DECLAN

Come with me if you want to live

SIMON

Oh come on!

DECLAN

Hat trick are going to lay an egg!

The HAT TRICK EXECUTIVE enters furious

HAT TRICK EXECUTIVE

What's going on? I give you an inch and you take a bloody mile!

DECLAN

The script, it's out of control!

FUTURE DECLAN

Come on, we don't have much time

SIMON

Hang on, where am I?

FUTURE DECLAN

You didn't make it, mate

SIMON

I told you! I told you a million times, don't. mention. the. prize. money.

FUTURE DECLAN steps down from the Humvee and grabs DECLAN

DECLAN

We have to...oh poo!

A paradox occurs which involves lots of prohibitively expensive special effects. The stage is flooded with white light and the cast disappears. Only the Jeremy Clarkson Effigy remains.

JEZZA

All we know is, he's called The Stig!

END

Mistermeanour

OFFICE.
Manic, arm-flapping HARGREAVES sits opposite a calm PUBLISHER:

HARGREAVES Mr Publisher Sir you just gotta hear this incredible idea I got. It's massive, it's humungous, it's gigantic, it's ginormous and it's f**king great too.

PUBLISHER I think I get the picture. And what would be the name of this 'ginormous f**ker'?

HARGREAVES The, the, the - MR MEN.

PUBLISHER I can't imagine a juxtaposition of terms less colourful or mutually redundant. And your name?

HARGREAVES Roger Hargreaves.

PUBLISHER Hardly an appropriate banner for a children's book is it. We still haven't got over 'Captain Pugwash', why don't we just splay 'Shaft Hargreaves Up The Jacksie' on the cover and have done with it.

HARGREAVES You don't understand... The characters!

PUBLISHER Yerse, today's market requires profound, three-dimensional characters, a harsh yet endearing combination of the attractive and the repellent, a Ying-and-Yang if you will, such as..

HARGREAVES Mr Greedy.

PUBLISHER I see. And would you summarise this fellow in seven words?

HARGREAVES Greedy. 'Cos he's kinda greedy, you see... All right?

PUBLISHER Fine. Now the plot - a complex, irresistible roller-coaster of events and revelations I aspire, a veritable labyrinth of unpredictable twists and unforeseeable turns, let me be so bold...

HARGREAVES Well he's greedy, then gradually - as the tale unfolds - he gets less and less greedy. Till - and this is the firecracker - he isn't greedy at all, he's just a normal bod!

PUBLISHER Hmm. Any sub-plots?

HARGREAVES You betcha breeches. A few pages in, Mr Greedy's walking along and meets a worm. Worm says, 'Whatcha doing?' He says, 'Nothing... Just walking along.' Worm says 'Oh.' He's a worm of few words... Whimsical humour, like.

PUBLISHER I'm sorry, I'm not fully convinced. Maybe if you have some thrilling artwork...

HARGREAVES Trust me Squire. (pulls out a copy, lays it on the table)

PUBLISHER (peruses it) Yerse - not exactly Michelangelo meets Monet and mingles with Mondrian, is it... I'm sorry Mr Hargreaves, I just feel this project of yours is what we in the publishing trade technically refer to as a pile of steaming horse-shit.

HARGREAVES Sorry.

PUBLISHER Haven't you anything better?

HARGREAVES Let me think... I've got it! YES!

PUBLISHER Mmm?

HARGREAVES The Little Misses!

PUBLISHER F**k right off.

INT. PUB. TWO MEN (JIM AND DAVE) ARE CHATTING.

JIM: How's that book of yours coming along Dave?

DAVE: Just finished writing it Jim.

JIM: Well done man.... I could never write a book.

DAVE: It's fairly straightforward Jim. You do an introduction at the start, write a middle bit then end with the conclusion.

JIM: Wow, you're blinding me with science now mate.

DAVE: Listen Jim, not only that but I used words and sentences... and... and, I even threw in a bit of punctuation on top.

JIM: Good Lord! Is there no end to your creative talents Dave?

DAVE: Nope... I even numbered the pages myself, from one to two hundred... and get this... in numerical order.

JIM: Christ! In numerical bleeding order as well... what's the title of this magnificent tome Dave?

DAVE: It's called 'How to lose six grand'.

JIM: How much does it cost Dave?

DAVE: Six grand... to me that is. There's only one edition of the book. I'm giving away six grand with the book to whoever wants it... here it is.

DAVE PULLS OUT COPY OF 'HOW TO LOSE SIX GRAND' WHICH HAS A WAD OF BANK NOTES SANDWICHED IN THE BOOK.

DAVE: Well Jim, do you want it? It's a limited edition, a real rarity.

JIM: Nah mate, I can't read.

SKIT COMPERS KAROKE NIGHT OUT

IN DA HOUSE WE HAVE

MICHAEL 'Im too Sexy for my Hairshirt' MONKHOUSE
First to the mic with 'Gonna Write a Classic, Gonna Write it in an Attic'

STEPHEN 'I Talk to the Trees' BIRCH sings 'I believe in Miracles, you Sketchy Thing'

THE 'I got the Music in Me' BEATS sings 'You're so vain, I bet you think this Skit Comps about you'

SHIRL THE 'You spin me Round and Round' WHIRL sings 'Ladywriter on the Forum, talking bout the Virgin Miranda'

BUSHBABY 'Babooska,Babooska,Babooska,Aye,Aye' does 'Skit Me Baby One More Time'

TIMBO 'La My Lord, Timbola' sings 'I wrote all night (but still missed the deadline...crap)

DON 'Quixote, what do you say?' P MUSEY (Whatever happened to Nick Kershaw??)
sings 'Could it be made into a Sitcom Magic'

STEPHEN GOOD LADy DE LAY, lay across my big brass bed' does 'Always Look on the Write Side of Life'

High REG N ergy, Your love is Liftin me croons 'More than a Skit Comp, More than a Skit Comp to me'

OTTER 'Fox On the Run' FOX murders 'Seven Drunken Rewrites'

NIGEL R 'I Believe I Can Fly' KELLY does the classic 'You made me write you, I didnt wanna do it'

ALEX 'MA Ma We're All Crazy Now' MAHON sings 'Strangers In Critique, exchanging insults'

JEFF ROBERTWITZ le Coo Park warns 'Write Lines, Dont Do It'

SEAN KNIGHTs In White Satin sings 'Down In the Forum at Midnight'

KASM 'Cos Im the King of Rock n Roll' belters 'Skit me with your Rythm Stick'

STEVE SUNSHINE 'came softly through my window today' shimmies 'These Comps were made for Writing, and that's just what I'll Do'

MC AARON takes to the mic with 'We Do Need Some Education'

The night wore on, there was Red Red Wine and Sherry O Baby aplenty

Nobody Knew where my Johnny had Gone but ANGIEBABY left the same time

Everyone started Kung Foo Fighting and GERRY MCDONNELL Came Tumbling Down

MC ARRON announced this was Off Topic

Meanwhile, in the Ladies, two of the Compers could be heard frantically rehearsing their duet 'Do That To Me One More Time'

MC ARRON announced this was Off Topic

ISHY slurred Theres a Guy Works Down the Chipshop Swears he's Elvis, so we all made our way down to check...the guy looked nothing like Elvis, the dirty liar

But the chips were nice....G'Night ...Hic

LANDLADY -
So that's the room, and you share the bathroom facilities.

NEVILLE -
That's fine, I'll take it.

LANDLADY -
You're getting a bit ahead of yourself there, young man. There's references and whatnot to sort out first.

NEVILLE -
References?

LANDLADY -
Yes. Where do you work for start-offs?

NEVILLE -
Well, nowhere exactly.

LANDLADY -
No DSS. It said that on the card.

NEVILLE -
No, no, I mean I'm self-employed.

LANDLADY -
Oh. What do you do?

NEVILLE -
I'm a writer.

LANDLADY -
Oh. DSS then. Sorry, I can't take you.

NEVILLE -
I'm a freelance writer. I submit articles to newspapers and magazines.

LANDLADY -
Oh. DSS with delusions!

NEVILLE -
Look, I am just starting out, but I'm already picking up commissions.

LANDLADY -
Even so, this is my home. I don't want my tenants hanging round the house all day.

NEVILLE -
I won't be. I get most of my work done at the library.

LANDLADY -
You'll be lucky, it closed down three weeks ago!

NEVILLE -
I'm working on a book as well. If I get famous, you'll be famous by association!

LANDLADY -
Dream on sunshine, I don't want the papa-rappa parked on my doorstep.

NEVILLE -
I'll pay two months in advance.

LANDLADY -
Hmmmm...I dunno...what's the book about?

NEVILLE -
Well, it was going to be about impotence, but I'm still cogitating.

LANDLADY -
Oh you pervert! Not in my house! Clear off!

WRITING FOR NEWSJACK, A DIARY

8:30pm - Send the kids to bed.

10:00pm - Make hints about the wife looking tired. Dismiss talk of joining her for an early night. It's a Newsjack week; it's all about the priorities.

10:05pm - Just watch the end of Frasier before beginning to write. I've only seen this episode thirteen times.

10:25pm - Realise there's another episode of Frasier following up. It's the one with a comical misunderstanding; will have to watch.

10:59pm - Get into Newsjack mode and fetch the laptop. Comedic gems are but moments away.

11:01pm - Just watch the opening segment of Scrubs while the laptop warms up.

11:55pm - Turn the telly off after a disappointing Scrubs double bill. It's time to write.

11:56pm - Quickly browse the BCG forum.

12:00am - Tune in to the Sky News headlines hoping for inspiration.

12:05am - Get sick of all this Tory propaganda; decide not to read any more of Aaron's posts.

12:10am - Spot Ellie's avatar.

12:11am - Load up an adult entertainment website to help facilitate some light exercise.

12:25am - Head back to the forum.

12:28am - Spot Ellie's avatar again.

12:29am - Reload the adult website; enjoy more 'me time'.

12:45am - Head back to the forum.

12:48am - Spot Nat's avatar.

12:49am - Begin writing.

2:35am - Realise that there's nothing that even closely resembles a joke on the page.

2:36am - Remember a good gag from last year about Paul Gascoigne. Write the joke down but replace 'Paul Gascoigne' with 'Charlie Sheen'.

2:40am - Retire for the evening with a fully deserved sense of achievement.

INT: STAGE.

A BANNER ABOVE THE STAGE DISPLAYS 'ALL FEMALE COMEDY NIGHT'.

A WOMAN (AMANDA) TAKES TO THE STAGE AND GRABS THE MICROPHONE.

BRIAN (SINGING OOV): 'Who let the dogs out?'

AMANDA BURSTS INTO TEARS.

THE ALL FEMALE CROWD TURNS TO LOOK AT BRIAN, THEY ARE ANGRY.

BRIAN: Oh Fook, Lesbians!

AMANDA (SHOUTS): Get him girls!

FX: 'YAKKITY SAX' PLAYS.

THE WOMEN TAKE OFF THEIR CLOTHES AND CHASE BRIAN IN A 'BENNY HILL' STYLE.

AMANDA (SHOUTS): No, not like that!

FX: 'YAKKITY SAX' ENDS.

THE WOMEN TURN ON BRIAN AND CORNER HIM.

AMANDA: So you think funny women are ugly do you?

BRIAN: No, some of you could be quite pretty if you lost a couple of stones.

WOMAN 1: Cheeky Bastard. Chop his cock off!

WOMAN 2: I'll do it, I'm pre-menstrual.

BRIAN: It was a joke!

AMANDA: Ladies, please, nobody is cutting anybody's cock off alright? What we need to do is make the punishment fit the crime.

WOMAN 1: Make him do some vacuuming?

WOMAN 2: I could show him my stretch-marks?

WOMAN 1: The hairs on my chin need plucking.

BRIAN: No, please! I'm just a comedy writer trying out new material.

AMANDA: Ah, a fellow comedian? Why didn't you say so?

(SHOUTS) It's ok everybody, he's a comedy writer.

(TO BRIAN) Come, sit down and enjoy the show.

WOMAN 1: I just love funny men.

WOMAN 2: He's so awkward, it's adorable.

WOMAN 1: I know, isn't it funny how we can change our minds just like that?

(SNAPS FINGERS).

THE CROWD MAKE WAY FOR BRIAN AS HE SITS ON A LARGE SOFA. THE WOMEN SURROUND HIM IN AWE.

BRIAN (UNDER BREATH): Please don't wake up.

BRIAN LOOKS TO THE STAGE AS AMANDA RE-APPEARS.

BRIAN (CONTD): Please wake up.

<CUT TO> BRIAN WAKES UP IN BED, HE IS COVERED IN SWEAT.

BRIAN:Better get that down while it's still fresh in my mind.

BRIAN TAKES A NOTEPAD AND PEN AND STARTS TO WRITE, THE TITLE IS 'MY SITCOM'.

"To the tune of The Impossible Dream"

To write the ungettable joke
To Pen the unreadable script
Annoy & dumfound all your readers
A mess that is hard to decrypt

To post the unsellable skit
And then Bump once it falls of the page
Then ignore all the negative feedback
And respond with some insults & rage

This is my sketch
It's six pages long
the dialogue's confusing
The punchlines aren't strong

But what do they know
Those folks in their Clique
My friends down the Pub think I'm great
So I don't need Critique.

And I know they may want me to go
But I've nothing to lose
And If I get banned by the Mods
A new 'sign-in' I'll use

And the world may still give me some grief
But this sketch was for Comic Relief
And I'll strive with my last ounce of courage
To Tell ---- the ungettable Jooooooooooooooke

Where to write?

Don't write in the rain, pal
You'll get water on your head
A chill through your middle
With all that drizzle
A week from now you'll be dead

Don't write in the sun, mate
Beware of the UV rays
Your eyes will be dazzled
Your skin will be frazzled
It'll be the end of your days

Don't write in the wind, friend
There's too much flying around
You might hear God call
As a chimney pot falls
And smashes you into the ground

Don't write in the snow, chum
Only a madman would
You'll slip on the ice
And say this is nice
As your soul leaves the neighbourhood

Don't go out, oh don't go out
Write in bed, be secure
Lie under the blanket
Because to be frank it
Is too dangerous outdoors

Write in bed, oh write in bed
It's the only way to win
It's a truth that I've found
You'll be safe and sound
(Unless the ceiling falls in)

EDITOR JIM: Could do with a nice cliché. Something relevant and emotive would be good.

AUTHOR JACK: The pen is mightier than the sword?

JIM: Bit dated, that one. Been done to death. Needs something modern and something mightier, I'd say.

JACK: What's mightier than the pen, then?

JIM: What about a keyboard?

JACK: The keyboard is mightier than the AK7 - how's that?

JACK: Nah, don't think it's strong enough.

JIM: The keyboard is mightier than the AK7 - you c**t. That do it?

DAY.INT

TWO FRIENDS TALKING AT A DINING TABLE
BRIAN HAS HIS LAPTOP OPEN AND A BLANK
MS WORD DOCUMENT

JIM
To say you are a writer Brian, I never see you doing any writing

BRIAN
I am really suffering from writers block.
I can't think of a single thing.

JIM
I have an idea, you need to get out and about
take a tape recorder with you and record real conversations

BRIAN
That's a brilliant idea, I'll do it today

NEXT DAY: SAME SCENE AT TABLE
TAPE RECORDER ON TABLE

JIM
Can I listen to what you recorded

JIM PRESSES PLAY AND ALL WE HEAR IS A LOW HISS NOISE

JIM (cont)
What's this?

BRIAN
I went to the library, it was packed

JIM
Is the hissing noise just background noise?

BRIAN
Yes - it WAS a library

JIM
Look, try a place where people will talk
somewhere like the toilets in an office or the pub.
I have heard some great snippets while sat on the pot.

NEXT DAY: SAME SCENE AT TABLE
TAPE RECORDER ON TABLE
JIM PRESSES PLAY

WE HEAR LOW HISSING THEN A SHHH SOUND THEN LOW HISSING AGAIN

JIM
Were you in a public toilet?

BRIAN
Yes, nobody came in.

JIM
Was the SHHH sound you having a piss

BRIAN
Yes.

JIM
Right, try going where there definitely will be people
an excursion, a bus trip somewhere where people gather

NEXT DAY: SAME SCENE AT TABLE
TAPE RECORDER ON TABLE
'PLAY' IS PRESSED

JIM
Did you record people this time?

BRIAN
Yes, there were about 12 of us
I went on a balloon ride over the city

WE HEAR A LOW HISSING NOISE THEN A LOUDER SHHHH SOUND

JIM
What's that?

BRIAN
The balloon sprung a leak
Everyone was paralysed with fear.

JIM LOOKS AT THE BLANK DOCUMENT ON BRIANS LAPTOP

JIM
Tell you what, print what you have done so far
and send it to Marcel Marceau's agent.

1. INT A MIDDLE AGED WOMAN IS SAT IN BED READING A BOOK. A MAN ENTERS WITH A BOOK IN HIS HAND. SHE LOOKS UP SHOCKED

VICTORIA:
You haven't have you?

HE SMILES AT HER SHEEPISHLY

CLIVE:
Just now.

VICTORIA:
I never thought I'd see the day.

CLIVE:
Darling, I want you to be the first to read it.

HE NERVOUSLY HANDS HER THE BOOK AND SHE STARTS TO READ

FADE

2. INT KITCHEN IN THE MORNING. THE MAN IS PACING. THE WOMAN COMES DOWN LOOKING GLUM

CLIVE:
You don't like it? Please tell me you like it?

VICTORIA:
Darling it's wonderful. The prose is elegant, the story thrilling, it's just, erm, you know, a little familiar.

CLIVE:
What?

WOMAN:
Sweetheart, your story is about a British secret agent called Jim Bond. He's trying to stop an evil megalomaniac called Silverfinger. Silverfinger has an accomplice called Bob a Job.

THE WOMAN LOOKS GLUM AND PULLS OUT A BOOK FROM A NEARBY BOOKCASE. SHE HANDS IT TO THE MAN WITH REAL SADNESS. HE STARTS TO LOOK THROUGH IT BECOMING MORE AND MORE FRANTIC. AND THEN JUST HOLDS HIS HEAD IN HANDS.

2. INT HOUSE YEARS LATER. VICTORIA IS IN BED AGAIN AND CLIVE RUSHES IN HOLDING A BOOK. SHE SMILES AT HIM

VICTORIA:
Now, you've checked through all our books?

CLIVE:
Of course.

HE HANDS THE BOOK OVER AND SHE OPENS IT

VICTORIA:
And the ones in that case under my dressing table?

CLIVE'S MOUTH FALLS OPEN

SHE PICKS UP THE BOOK AND BEGINS TO READ

VICTORIA:
It was the worse of times, it was the best of times. (beat) Oh darling.

FADE

3. INT HOUSE YEARS LATER. THE COUPLE ARE LOOKING A LOT OLDER. CLIVE IS DOING UP HIS SHIRT AS THEY'RE GETTING READY FOR A WEDDING

VICTORIA:
Come on Clive, we don't want to be late for our only nephews wedding.

CLIVE LOOKS AT HIS WIFE, SMILES AND PUTS HIS ARMS AROUND HER

CLIVE:
I'm sorry I've not been the ideal husband.

VICTORIA:
What do you mean?

CLIVE:
This stupid nonsense about writing. All these fanciful dreams. You've had to put up with so much.

VICTORIA:
Clive. Just because someone got an idea first it doesn't mean you're not a fantastic writer. You've just been unlucky.

CLIVE:
Unlucky? Moby Rick, Grand Expectations, Catch 44, the list goes on. No,darling I'm giving up. I should just be happy with what I've got. Which is a lot.

THEY EMBRACE ONE ANOTHER.

VICTORIA:
Come on. You'll have me crying. You mustn't give up. You just need an original story. Go out, join a club, take up a hobby, you never know what might give you the spark. It's never too late. Now come on, put your tie on or we'll be late.

MAN NODS HIS HEAD AND HIS WIFE LEAVES. HE GOES TO GET SOME CLOTHES OUT OF HIS WARDROBE AND AS HE'S FISHING AROUND HE FALLS INSIDE. SLOWLY WE SEE HIM EMERGE INTO A SNOWY NARNIA.

FADE

4. INT HOUSE AGAIN

WOMAN:
Darling where are you?

THE MAN EMERGES FROM THE WARDROBE HOLDING A BOOK AND LOOKING HAPPIER THAN HE HAS IN YEARS.

MAN:
Victoria. VICTORIA.

HE OPENS THE WARDROBE DOOR AND SHOUTS INSIDE

MAN:
Thank you Aslum, thank you.

1 INT: OFFICE. DAY.
SHAKESPEARE sitting across from EDITOR who looks over a manuscript. EDITOR lowers manuscript and looks at SHAKESPEARE.

SHAKESPEARE
Pray, what thinkest thou?

EDITOR
Well...it was good but...

SHAKESPEARE
But? Speak sir.

EDITOR
Well, what would you think of changing the setting.

SHAKESPEARE looks offended.

EDITOR
I mean, its just, 'The Merchant of Grimsby'? Couldn't we go with somewhere a bit classier.

SHAKESPEARE
But good sir, change thy setting and change thy essence of the tale.

EDITOR
Well, not necessarily. See this guy Tony, the smack dealer, could be Antonio, a Venetian Merchant.

SHAKESPEARE
Well, I suppose you were right about making Hamlet the Prince of Denmark instead of the son of a cigarette company owner. Make the changes.

EDITOR
Good....And another thing, this one 'Romeo & Juliet'.

SHAKESPEARE
Ah, my sorrowful tale of two young lovers torn apart. One from a family who thinks John was the best Beatle, the other from a family that likes Paul. Truly tragic.

EDITOR
Well, aside from the frankly confounding inclusion of a reference to a modern band which makes no sense whatsoever, I just think there should be more at stake than that.

SHAKESPEARE
Ah, a George man?

EDITOR
Well, no.

SHAKESPEARE
Oh, sir do not insult my ears by telling me thy favouritist Beatle is Ringo.

EDITOR
Just leave it to me, I'll fix it.

SHAKESPEARE
Very well.

SHAKESPEARE goes to leave.

EDITOR
Oh hang on.

Editor holds up another manuscript.

SHAKESPEARE
Do not spake displeasure upon that story, tis one of my finest.

EDITOR
You're right, this one is surprisingly good but I was thinking of changing the title to 'Much Ado About Nothing'

SHAKESPEARE
What!? You don't like 'Brew Ha Ha Over F**k All'?

INT. A ROOM IN AN EGYPTIAN PALACE. NIGHT

A FLAMING TORCH ILLUMINATES HIEROGLYPHS ON THE WALLS. A PHARAOH WANDERS ALONG, PERUSING THEM

PHARAOH
Disappointed, Derrick. Disappointed.

DERRICK
Highness?

PHAROAH
Did I not order you to invent something that would allow me to communicate with others? I believe we had settled on the name: writing!

DERRICK SWEEPS HIS HAND EXPANSIVELY TOWARDS THE DAUBED WALLS

DERRICK
Ta-da!

PHARAOH
Call me old fashioned, but don't we normally refer to these type of thing as drawings? I was picturing something a bit more... squiggly, shall we say.

DERRICK
But you just said it yourself, oh magnificent one - you were 'picturing'. And a picture paints a thousand words - although that's just my rough guesstimate of course...

PHARAOH
One picture; one thousand words? Okay, so what thousands words can we glean from this one, pray?

HE POINTS TO AN ARCHETYPAL HIEROGLYPH OF A STANDING BIRD

DERRICK
That one? Well, easy enough - bird, obviously. That's a given. Um... then there's... ooh, let's see now - fly and er, flying.

PHARAOH
But it's standing, Derrick.

DERRICK
Well, there you go - so that's standing; stand - ooh, bird stand, unflappable, erm... no-fly zone...

PHARAOH
You're making it up as you go along. This is bollocks.

DERRICK
No mighty ruler - this is bollocks.

DERRICK POINTS TO A HIEROGLYPH DEPICTING A PAIR OF GONADS

PHARAOH
Bullshit

DERRICK NODS TO ANOTHER PICTURE WHERE A BULL IS DEFECATING WHILE LOOKING OVER ITS SHOULDER COQUETISHLY

DERRICK
That would be over there, celestial one.

PHARAOH (RAISING EYEBROWS AND NODDING SLOWLY)
I'm teetering, Derrick. Teetering.

DERRICK (WARMING TO HIS THEME)
You see, the beauty of this, oh exquisite deity, is that while squiggles could easily be mistaken for other squiggles, and thus create all manner of potential calamities of misunderstanding - this 'writing' system ensures total clarity.

PHARAOH
But there are hundreds - how could I remember them all?

DERRICK
2,000 actually, majesty-mine, but I will instruct you. And look over here, sire - I have formed a sentence about your queen.

THE QUEEN IS PASSING BY THE ENTRANCE OF THE ROOM AND ENTERS, INTRIGUED

QUEEN
Someone mention me?

PHARAOH
Yes, dear. Come and look at what Derrick has been 'writing' about you. (WINKS AT DERRICK WHO SMIRKS BACK AT HIM)

THEY PEER AT A RUN OF THREE PICTURES: THE QUEEN, A HEART AND FINALLY A CURVING SHAFT WITH A BULBOUS HEAD. SUDDENLY THE QUEEN RIPS A DAGGER FROM HER BELT AND PLUNGES IT INTO DERRICK'S CHEST. HE COLLAPSES, SPEWING BLOOD ONTO THE STONE FLOOR

PHARAOH
What on earth?...

QUEEN
I can't believe you would sanction this filth about me?! The Queen - loves - cock??!!!

DERRICK (WITH HIS DYING BREATH)
Asp, your majesty. The queen loves her asp...eugh (DIES)

QUEEN (INCLINES HER HEAD TO ONE SIDE)
Ooooh, yes - I see now. That must be a tongue coming out of the asp's head not some liquid spitting out... Very good, Derrick. You know, I think I like it.

PHARAOH NUDGES DERRICK'S LIFELESS BODY WITH HIS SANDAL

PHARAOH
Great. Terrific. 2,000 of these things - I'd probably be able to guess about ten. What the hell am I supposed to do with them now!?

QUEEN
Sozza. But, they're nice designs anyway. Couldn't we just use them as wall decorations? (HAS A THOUGHT WHILE LOOKING DOWN AT THE DECEASED DERRICK) Maybe in tombs - jolly them up a bit?

PHARAOH
Don't be ridiculous (STOMPS OFF SHAKING HIS HEAD)

ENDS