Hi there. This is my first time so be gentle with me. I have an idea (and some stuff written down that you will get to see) for a sitcom. It revolves aroud Ivor Glasscock and his puppet Little Jimmy Junior. Ivor and Jimmy are a double act. A bit like the Krankies, but less freaky. They are mostly in demand for stag and hen nights and kids parties. However Little Jimmy suffers from tourettes and is prone to misbehaving. Even though Little Jimmy isn't a real boy yet (God willing one day he will be!), Ivor loves him so. To Ivor he's the only family he has.
As for Ivor, his family were circus people. His Mother was the 3rd ranked Bearded Lady in the world, and his Father was the world renowned clown Bobo Glasscock.
The following is an idea for the very first opening scene I had. It starts with a flash back and Ivor talking over the top. I have other first opening scenes, but I like the idea of this one (even though when written down it seems a bit long, but when you read it it doesn't), so any ideas about it good or bad, will be welcome.
Cheers.
INT. TEATIME – INSIDE A BIG TOP
A CLOWN IS STOOD IN THE CENTRE CIRCLE. HE IS TURNING AROUND SLOWLY WITH HIS ARMS IN THE AIR. THE CROWD ARE ALL STOOD UP CHEERING AND THROWING FLOWERS INTO THE CIRCLE. THE CLOWN IS GRINNING. A SMALL CHILD AND A BEARDED WOMAN ARE STOOD WATCHING HIM FROM BEHIND A CURTAIN. THE CHILD IS SMILING AND CLAPPING, WHILE THE WOMAN IS LOOKING ON IN DISGUST.
(VOICE OVER) IVORS VOICE “I’ve always known I was different. Special my Mother told me. But I knew the truth. My family were freaks. Quite literally. My Mother was a bearded lady and my Father was a clown. Bobo his name was. Then again with a name like that there’s not much else you can be in this world is there? Bobo Glasscock. Imagine growing up with that burden. My Nan must have hated him.
My Mother however didn’t name me until I was four years old. She was disappointed you see. Wanted a girl. I was called Angela for the first five months of my life, until it was confirmed I wasn’t a hermaphrodite, and there was no point in my mother wishing otherwise. She had given birth to a boy and that wasn’t going to change.
After hearing that news, my Mother took a somewhat “organic” approach to naming me. Apparently she thought I would just “grow” into a suitable name, and proceeded to call me “it” up until my fourth birthday. When out of the blue she decided I was no longer fit to be called “it”, and called me Ivor instead.
Why Ivor you ask yourself? Why not a cool name like Elvis or Alan? Well I’ll tell you why. By my fourth birthday I was so grossly over weight, (this due mostly to my canon ball training), that every time I entered a room, my belly would always enter exactly 10.6 seconds ahead of me. Therefore my name is Ivor Glasscock! And like ALL men with glass cocks you could always see me coming. (GIGGLES) I love that joke! But seriously.
The real reason she called me Ivor is that she was a spiteful bitch, and didn’t want a son, but a daughter, therefore wanted to make my life a misery! Evil cow! (PAUSE) God I miss her!
Anyway I digress. The start of this story begins after my naming, and before the death of my Father. It begins with my Father stood in the centre circle of the majestic big top. Him receiving his much deserved applause, and me and my Mother stood just outside the spotlight. As always. Even though she was ranked third in the world rankings of “Bearded” women, and I was the youngest human canon ball ever. Did I mention that I was the world’s youngest human canon ball in 1972? No? Well I was. Though the Guinness Book of Records refused point blank to recognise it as a world record. They just called it inhumane and threatened to call the police if we rang again. The unimaginative bastards!
However we still stood in my Fathers shadow. My Mother hated him for it, and I adored him for that very reason. His reputation allowed me a certain kind of “Celebrity” status within the world of “Freaks”. They would point and whisper “there goes little Bobo Junior, he’s just like his father isn’t he at that age”. God I was so proud of him.
BOBO CLUTCHES AT HIS CHEST AND FALLS TO HIS KNEES. HE THEN FALLS SIDE WAYS FACING IVOR AND HIS MOTHER.
(PAUSE)
(SIGHS) As I watched my father collapse to the ground, nobody sure if this was an encore or not, you know one last gag for the road, he reached out his hand towards my Mother. I remember looking up at her, thinking that at any moment now she was going to rush to him and they would take a bow, and exit stage left. (PAUSE) Instead she just turned on her heel and walked away. And for the very first time in my very short life, my Mother had a spring in her step and a smile on her face.
BOBO IS LYING ON HIS SIDE AND REACHES OUT HIS HAND TOWARDS IVOR AND HIS MOTHER. CAMERA PANS TO LOOK AT IVOR AND HIS MOTHER. HIS MOTHER IS SEEN GRINNING, AND THEN SHE TURNS ON HER HEELS AND WALKS AWAY. IVOR WATCHES HIS MOTHER LEAVE, AND THEN CLOSES HIS EYES HOLDS UP HIS HANDS, CROSSES HIS FINGERS FOR LUCK AND TURNS BACK TO BOBO.
As I turned back to my Father, I closed my eyes and prayed that he would be back on his feet and juggling with chain saws, while trying to swallow a flaming sword. Luck however wasn’t with me that day. Instead when I opened my eyes, the first aider was trying to perform life saving CPR on him.
Unfortunately for my Father the only person there that night with any kind of first aid qualification was Dancing Paul.
Now I have nothing against Dancing Paul, but I think that it is highly irresponsible to make a Mime artist the designated first aider. And I don’t care if he used to work for the Saint Johns Ambulance either! He couldn’t find his way out of a non existent box for f**k sake let alone find a pulse! I mean its common sense, don’t you think?
A MIME IS SEEN “MIMING” CPR ON BOBO. HE THEN MIMES STARTING UP A DEFIBRILATOR, RUBS THEM TOGETHER AND PUTS THEM ON BOBO’S CHEST. HE THEN IN TURN GIVES HIMSELF A SHOCK, STANDS UP STAGGERS ABOUT, TURNS IN A CIRCLE AND FALLS OVER BACKWARDS. TWO CLOWNS THEN RACE ON. BOTH INSIDE A SMALL AMBULANCE THAT IS ATTATCHED TO THEM BY STRAPS ALONG THE SHOULDERS. THEY REMOVE THE AMBULANCE, PUT BOBO ONTO A STRETCHER, AND BOTH TRY TO RUN OFF IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. THEY RUN AROUND WITH HIM IN A CIRCLE AND THEN BOTH RUN OUT OF SHOT IN THE SAME DIRECTION.
What happened that night not only took my Father away from me, but very nearly destroyed me. Something inside me broke that night, and when it healed, it healed a little skewed. Not exactly dead centre if you get my drift. Not that I felt it straight away. It was something that became more obvious the older I got. (PAUSE)
(SIGHS) (MORE UP BEAT) However the rest of what happened then is not for telling now. That will come in time I hope. So much has gone on since then, that I haven’t the luxury of dwelling in the past, when the future holds such adventure for us all. There is only one thing left to say now, and that is welcome. Welcome to my world! Have fun, but remember keep you hands in the car, and what ever you do, don’t feed the animals!