I'm about 7 skit comps behind. I finally got to finish the sketch on the topic of Spring.
Here is what my entry would have been:
TWO MEN, ALAN AND BARRY ARE IN A ROOM. ALAN IS TAPPING AWAY ON A COMPUTER.
ALAN (TO BARRY):
Do you know if Spring starts at the beginning of February or March? I'm writing a piece for the Pedantic Society so you know...it has to be specific.
BARRY:
You are way off on both counts.
ALAN:
How can I be way off? It's either February or March.
BARRY:
No actually. Officially it's related to the vernal equinox which usually occurs around 21st March.
ALAN:
'Usually'?, 'Around'? ,'The'? That's not good enough for the Pedants. This is the society that once tore up its own manifesto because two of the pages were stuck together.
BARRY:
Oh come on, they can't be that bad.
ALAN:
Can't be that bad!? Last year they were none too pleased when their president suggested a date for their "AGM meeting".
BARRY:
A simple slip of the tongue.
ALAN:
Exactly and they shot him!
BARRY:
What!? You need Gregor Macaw. He's some sort of mystic man who lives a solitary life on Spattle Hill. He is a-tune with the ways of nature. The ebb and flow of the tides, he can sense breezes and hear sunlight. It is believed that he was raised by owls.
ALAN:
I'd give anything a try at this stage. How far is Spattle Hill?
BARRY:
A two day crawl but you can walk it in three hours.
ALAN: (SARCASTICALLY)
I'm not sure if you've heard of the car. They say it's even quicker than walking.
BARRY:
No! You can't, he hates the car. A poison upon everything he holds dear.
EXT. DAY.
ALAN APPEARS OUTSIDE A SMALL SHACK. HE IS SWEATING AND TIRED. HE COMES ACROSS GREGOR SLOWLY HOPPING FROM ONE FOOT TO THE NEXT. GREGOR IS WEARING STRIPY KNEE SOCKS, A BLAZER AND A WEATHER VAIN ATTACHED TO HIS HAT.
ALAN:
Excuse me.....
GREGOR CONTINUES HIS HOPS, IGNORING ALAN.
ALAN:
You're a busy man....
GREGOR: (CONTINUES HOPPING)
And hop....and another....and hop...
ALAN:
Would you be able to tell-
GREGOR INTERUPTS.
GREGOR: (SHARPLY)
Where did you come from?
ALAN:
J-just over there.
GREGOR:
The over there is gone!
ALAN: (DUBIOUS)
Yes...I need to know exactly when spring starts.
GREGOR GOES BACK TO HIS HOPS. ALAN TAKES OUT HIS WALLET.
ALAN:
I can pay you.
GREGOR:
Have you ever lived in a purse?
ALAN:
I-I don't think so, no.
GREGOR:
Do you think the contents of your purse enjoy being trapped in there? Cast it off, scatter your contents to the four winds. Dance with the wind, feel the caress of the sunlight on your skin as I am doing and the clarity of nature and the turn of the seasons will become as clear as that lake over there.
HE POINTS TO AN OLD TYRE.
ALAN:
I have to have the piece written by seven. Can't you just tell me?
GREGOR GOES BACK TO HOPPING.
ALAN EMPTIES HIS WALLET.
GREGOR: (IMPRESSED)
Very well done Alan, very well done indeed. You remind me of a ferret I once knew. Many people would find it difficult to detach from their world of possessions but you Alan, you eventually did it. Let me now find the answer you seek...
GREGOR GOES INTO A TRANCE-LIKE STATE. HE MAKES VARIOUS YELP-LIKE NOISES. HE HOPS AND MOVES HIS ARMS AS THOUGH THEY ARE WINGS.
GREGOR: (STARES INTENTLY)
I'm seeing various colours, blues and red, some yellow, there's that blue again, green and red. Alan something I have your answer....google it!
