Radio Sitcom, "SAIL AWAY" Episode One.

Slightly revised draft a couple of posts down.

Just bumping this up! Not read it yet!

[Edit: tried to edit out some of the the 'pie-face' exposition as pointed out by BB]

I would like some fixes for this if anyone can be bothered to read it.
I don't think it's good enough but I'm far, far too familiar with it to do the best job, I think. Anyway it's an old, old project I'm not working on at the mo so any criticism gratefully internalised!

Apologies for formatting - copy and paste Word job.

Version 3!

‘SAIL AWAY’

EPISODE ONE: FISH PASTE
Written by
James Williams and Robert Bassett

SCENE 1.

AMBIENCE: SEA.

F/X: TOILET FLUSHING

DOUG:Captain’s log. Twenty-sixth of the eighth two thousand and eight. Twelve hundred hours. No. Only twenty-four hours in a day… Twelve a.m. Or is it p.m.? Noon. We’re somewhere off the coast of The Isle of Wight. Think I left my sea legs at home. First day of our round-the-world adventure and I already feel seasick. But rapidly becoming a tough old sea dog.

F/X: CLICK OF TAPE RECORDER.

Ooh. Just saw a fish.

CASS:Well spotted, Doug!

PETE:Well done? We’re at sea. He’s not quite Big Chief I-Spy, is he? And he’s not a captain, either.

CASS:Grumpy. He’s all right. He can be my number one.

DOUG:That makes you a number two, Pete! Ha ha!

PETEh God.

CASS:I know what will cheer you up Pete. I’ll put my tape back on.

PETE:You really have no idea what would make me happy, do you?

F/X: BUTTON BEING PRESSED. “WE ARE SAILING” BEGINS. IT STOPS.

PETE:I’m not listening to it, Cass.

CASSh. I was just trying to set the mood.

PETE:For what?

CASS:I don’t know. It’s the mood of being at sea.

PETE:We are at sea! Unfortunately.

CASS:This trip is a God-send. You’d both be in trouble, wouldn’t you, if it weren’t for my boat and this expedition. And there’s a good chance we’ll be famous.

F/X: THUNDER

PETE:There’s a good chance we won’t come back alive.

CASS:It’s an adventure! We might get into The Guinness Book Of Records.

PETEon’t get Doug started on that.

DOUG:Remember my ten-inch long toenails?

PETE:Too late.

DOUG:Took me five years to grow those things. Turns out the record was ten metres, held by the one-hundred-and fifteen-year-old Chief of a curious Tibetan tribe that ritually imbibes narcotic growth hormones. Didn’t stand a chance. And I haven’t worn half of those pairs of sandals again....

CASS:I love being in touch with nature. Oh, I’m so happy you decided to be my crew after Michael and Jasper dropped out. You’re life-savers.

DOUG:Thank-you. It’s a real pleasure.

CASS:I was so desperate!

PETE:Ha! Better than being on the dole, anyway.

DOUG:I wasn’t unemployed.

PETE:You can’t lie to me, Doug, we were living together. You’ve been mooning about with nothing to do claiming unemployment benefits for months.

DOUG:Been designing corporate websites, actually.

PETEure. I’ve seen your mail – you’ve been designing a website for the Inland Revenue, have you?

DOUG:Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. And looking at somebody else’s post is a criminal offence.

PETE:It says “Inland Revenue” on the envelope. Why would I want to open your post? I know the sort of mail you get. Big Knockers Magazine and anthrax.

CASS:Ew, you don’t get that, do you Doug?

DOUG:No. Not both.

F/X: THUNDER

CASS:I’m glad the sail’s down; I think there’s a storm brewing.

PETEh, great. A storm, already! I knew this would happen. I suppose I’m going to have to do all the labour. I mean, you’re a girl, and he’s… an idiot.

CASSexist! I have been in a boat before, you know.

DOUG:I’m not an idiot. And I have a certificate to prove it.

PETE:You carry a certificate around with you to prove you’re not an idiot?

DOUG:No. It’s my computer programming NVQ, and it speaks for itself.

PETE:It says you’re too stupid to get a degree.

DOUG:I tried.

PETE:You spent your whole time at uni hatching hair-brained schemes. You even set up your own religion - that was truly bizarre.

DOUG:You and the other unbelievers might have thought it was bizarre, but I had quite a following.

PETE:The police, mostly.

DOUG:Why should I subscribe to other people’s philosophies?

PETE:The only thing you subscribe to arrives fortnightly, in a brown envelope. Doug, your God-

DOUGupreme Being-

PETE:Was a small jar of fish paste. You held church services to it in the window-box, acted out with Action Men. You wrote blasphemous hymns about worshipping fish paste and recited them to passers-by. You were a joke.

DOUG:I was deadly serious. It was a social experiment. And they weren’t hymns, it had more of a Buddhist flavour. Faith is a powerful thing, in whatever shape or form.

PETE:It didn’t help you pass your degree, did it?

CASS:I did hear about that. It’s cool, it’s different. Spiritual.

DOUG:Not the point. Do you know how much money you can make by setting up your own religion?

CASS:I hadn’t really thought of that.

DOUG:Three million pounds. Possibly more.

PETE:How much money have we got left, anyway, after the boat and rations?

CASSh, do we have to talk about money? I thought we’d left all that behind.

PETE:We didn’t have any money to leave behind, Cass.

DOUG:Let me refer to my notebook. Now, we only had one sponsor, but they’ve left us richer to the tune of twenty-five pounds, and one box of lentils.

PETE:Twenty-five quid?

CASSh yeah, from the health food shop. And don’t forget the lentils, they’re special, I had to haggle for those - maybe we can cook something with them.

DOUG:They’re a bit crunchy. Maybe we could re-sell them.

PETE:To who?

DOUG:Think they’re past their best though.

PETEo lentils have a “best”?

DOUG:I’m afraid that is outside my sphere of knowledge; I normally only eat out of tins.

CASS:I did expect a bit more, to be honest. We’ll have to be frugal when we restock the boat.

PETE:What did the shop get in return for this “sponsorship”?

CASS:You know - all the logos, and stuff.

PETE:“All the logos”? What logos?

CASS:Just there, look.

PETE:That? Cass, that’s underwater. Well someone’s certainly getting their thirty quid back in spades. There won’t be a seahorse along this entire stretch of ocean that won’t be rushing to “WJ Hammock’s Organic Health Store” to buy his zinc tablets and Panda liquorice. Why aren’t the logos on the sail?

CASS:I suppose you’re right. I’m not really very corporate-minded.

PETE:What mentally deficient goon would paint advertising on the bottom of the hull?

DOUG:I could only reach up to there. It’s Mr Hammock’s fault, he just left me with the stencils.

PETEo, apart from lentils, what have we got to eat?

CASS:There are the rations. But I also packed some extras so we could eat like real sailors: one bottle of Captain Morgan Rum, and for ship’s biscuits, a mini packet of Hob-Nobs.

DOUG:They’re in this box somewhere. Got a puzzle book too. Well, obviously you can’t eat that. Brought lots of tins with me. And a little surprise.

PETEh no.

CASSo!

F/X: DOUG RUSTLING AROUND

DOUG:This food is the Carol Vorderman of snacks: tasty and practical. You just want to lie in bed, munching them all night long. Mmmm.

PETEoug, give me the biscuits.

CASS:This is exciting.

PETE:It’s not exciting, I want the biscuits.

CASS:Now don’t be mean. It’s not perishable, is it Doug?

DOUGerish the thought, Cass. Hee hee.

CASSoh, I’m excited! Open it up! What’s in there? Come on Doug, open the box!

PETE:Take the money.

F/X: DOUG OPENING THE BOX. MUSICAL STING.

PETEork scratchings?

CASS:You’re not serious, are you Doug? Doug?

DOUG:My favourite confection. The number of nights I’ve stayed up until the early hours on the internet, mouse in one hand, scratchings in the other, posting my views on the superiority of Apple Macs on the PC World forum…

CASS:I think he is serious.

PETE:He is. Sometimes he looks at girls too.

DOUG:No I don’t! Here, try one.

CASSh, put it away! Doug, I can’t eat pork scratchings - I don’t eat meat!

PETE:And I can’t eat pork scratchings, because I’ve still got at least three functioning taste buds. I think I’d rather lick out Cass’s lavatory bowl.

DOUG:I thought you liked scratchings.

PETE:No. I think it's irresponsible to take a packet of pig's toenail clippings and sell it as food.

DOUG:This is very unfortunate. I packed several boxes. In fact, I had to leave most of the rations behind to make room. Ah – here are the biscuits.

PETE:I’ll have those, I think. Chuck ‘em over.

DOUGhould probably pass them to you.

PETE:What’s the point in me getting up? Just throw them over!

DOUG GRUNTS. F/X: SMALL SPLASH.

PETE:How was I supposed to catch that?

DOUG:Knew that would happen.

PETE:Why did you do it then?

DOUG:Never been very good at throwing.

CASS:You must be getting better, Doug, that went really far.

DOUG:Was quite impressive.

CASS:Looks like I’ll have to go and get them. Never send a man to do a woman’s job, boys. I’ll be back in a jiffy.

F/X: SPLASH

PETE:That was graceful. Only a woman would risk her life for biscuits.

DOUG:Yes – think it was going a bit overboard. (CHUCKLES)

PETEon’t tell me any of your jokes, Doug. Tell me jokes when you have a new personality, and maybe a girlfriend to prove it.

DOUG:I’ve got a personality.

PETE:Yes, and you’ve also got a car – a clapped-out Fiesta with rusty panel work and a bumper sticker that says “computer programmers do it bit by bit” - and no bugger will ever want a ride in it. Get it?

DOUG:Not really, no. And I thought that was quite humorous. Ha! Bit by bit. Is Cass alright? Can’t see her.

F/X: THUNDER

PETEhe’s fine. And by the way – you don’t have a chance.

DOUG:What do you mean?

PETE:You’ve been following her round, leaving pools of lustful dribble in your wake, for the last five years. You’ve been more difficult to get rid of than the curry smell in your Fiesta’s ventilation system. True?

DOUG:You’ve been spying on me. Have you been reading my notebook?

PETEoug, your computer screensaver is a picture of Cass that you’ve fiddled with somehow and looped so she blows endless kisses out of the screen - to whoever might be sat there. With their pork scratchings in hand.

DOUGidn’t know you’d seen that. Flash animation.

PETE:Yeah, it was obscene. I’ll give you some advice mate. If you want to pull her, your best bet is to act like someone else. Someone with more brain cells than socks. Someone who isn’t dressed like one of the PG Tips chimps.

DOUG:Are you suggesting that I modify my behaviour in order to be like you?

PETEIMITATING DOUG) ‘Are you suggesting that I modify my behaviour’ – you sound like Robby the Robot. Yes, act like me! If you want to get anywhere with women.

DOUG:I’m not acting like you. You sing too much.

PETE:They think it’s romantic. They’re called the weaker sex for a reason, Doug. Anyway, you don’t have to take my advice.

DOUG:I won’t. I’m not a sad case. Got a load of self-help books off the internet to hone my technique. Look, here they are.

PETEh great, you’ve brought them with you.

DOUGtart off gently. ‘The Art of Attracting Women’. Then, ’A Manoeuvre a Day – 365 Positions to Make Her Moan’. No good on a leap year, is it? This one was a real disappointment, though, ‘How to Hump’. Just a load of random facts.

PETEoug, that’s volume seven of the encyclopaedia. That ridiculous fringe – it’s to hide the lobotomy scars, isn’t it?

DOUG:I’m not taking your advice, Pete. On each of the three occasions I have listened to you, I ended up in hospital with a mild concussion.

PETE:Really.

DOUG:Cast your mind back to the five minutes prior to my first driving test – you stumbled drunkenly out of your room and told me to relax, remember?

PETE:What was I thinking? I bet I wished you luck, too, didn’t I?

DOUG:No, I believe you slipped me a little something to “calm me down”.

PETE:You’re losing me here.

DOUG:Valium, Pete. You gave me Valium!

PETEh, yeah, that’s right! I nicked it off my mate. It was only half a Valium.

DOUG:I put the key in the ignition, performed a flawless nine-point turn, went the wrong way round a roundabout, and fell asleep. I woke up on a park bench.

PETE:You passed though, didn’t you?

DOUG:No, I didn’t pass! I passed out! According to the eyewitnesses, I nearly drove into a bus! What were you thinking?

PETEon’t blame me, Doug, I did tell you what it was.

DOUG:You told me it was marzipan!

PETEiazepam, Doug! You passed eventually.

CASSOFF) Help!

DOUG:Can you hear Cass?

PETE:I’m sure she’s having a whale of a time. She’s probably inside one by now.

DOUG:Can’t see her. I’ll have to turn the boat round.

F/X: CLATTER

Whoops. Tripped over my mop.

PETE:Not that thing.

DOUG:This mop has sentimental value.

PETE:Why do you carry that thing around everywhere?

DOUG:We’re close. It was my dance partner for two years at university, when I joined the ballroom dancing society.

PETE:What?

DOUG:Ballroom dancing. And we dabbled in Latin-American.

PETE:You, dancing? I assume you went in the vain hope you might pull someone.

DOUG:Well, I thought I’d try something a little more romantic than web design. Unfortunately I hadn’t factored the turnout into the equation. In short, the only people who attended were the instructors, my good self, and Angie Sykes.

PETEh yeah, she was alright.

DOUGhe only had one leg.

PETEh, “Hop-Along” Sykes.

DOUGhe kept dancing in circles. I suppose it’s a blessing we never had to do the hokey-cokey.

PETE:And you ended up having to dance with a mop.

DOUG:Yes. Grown quite attached to it. It’s called Meredith.

PETE:Meredith the Mop.

DOUG:Now, don’t say anything to Cass, she might not understand.

PETE:There’s a chance of that, yes. It’s pathetic, it really is. You’ve been obsessed with Cass ever since you took your first covert Polaroid of her at university. And when she gave us this golden opportunity…! You dirty little grease-ball.

DOUG:I might be a bit geeky, and I’ll admit that freely, but at least I have feelings. At least I’m not the type to trade in my soul for a “quickie” and a bottle of Morrinov vodka.

PETE:“Vodka and a quickie”? For your soul you’d get scant change from a fiver.

CASSOFF) Help! Guys! Guys, can you hear me?!

PETEhe thinks you’re a creep, Doug.

DOUG:That’s fine, I’ve got several months now to put my plan into operation. Months in close confinement to make her see how loving, caring, and attentive I can be to her every need.

CASSOFF) Help! Pete! Doug!

DOUG:Where’s that book? Think I might try a Sudoku.

CASSOFF) Help! You’re leaving me behind!

DOUG:Was that Cass? Where is she?

PETE:Who cares? Under this spare lifejacket?

DOUG:There isn’t a spare lifejacket.

PETEh well.

DOUGhe’s probably playing some sort of trick on us.

PETE:Yeah, possibly. The other possibility is, of course, that she’s drowned.

F/X: THUNDER

DOUG:Cass! Cass! I can’t see her. I’m going in after her. I’m going to do it.

PETE:You can’t swim. Oh, put your top back on, please. I don’t want to see that. That fat gut with your bandy legs – you look like an obese sparrow.

DOUG:Hold my glasses. Thank you. Oh - now I can’t see! Perhaps I need to re-evaluate my chances of survival.

F/X: THUNDER

You know I always wanted a burial at sea.

PETEnly because they couldn’t dig a hole big enough. Stop being so melodramatic.

DOUG:I’m going in. Aaaaah!

F/X: LARGE SPLASH.

PETEhame. Lost at sea, what a way to go. Now where’s that bottle of rum…?

FADE.

SCENE 2.

F/X: SEA. RAIN LASHING, THUNDER

DOUGOVER) Captain’s log. Supplemental. Can’t talk. Too cold. Storm’s worse. Think I might die out here. Found Cass. At least, I think it’s Cass. Can’t really see. Don’t think I can hold on much longer. Our only hope is that Pete is mounting a search-and-rescue mission that will take us home.

PETE: (TO LOVE THEME FROM “TITANIC”)
Near, far, wherever you are…
I believe that the heart does go on…
Once more you open the door…
And you're here in my heart…
And my heart will go on and on…

F/X: THUD.

Iceberg!

DOUGw.

F/X: SPLASHING.

PETEoug.

CASSete! You’ve found us!

DOUG:A-a-at last! We’ve been s-swimming for hours!

PETEh, what are you doing here?

CASS:Y-You were l-looking for us, w-weren’t you?

PETE:You found her then. No, not really.

DOUG:The storm! Th-Think I’ve got hypoth-thermia…

PETE:Ah, get a grip, you got back, didn’t you? I thought you’d be dead by now.

CASSo! We-we’re only alive because you’ve gone round in a b-big circle!

DOUG:I thought I did p-pretty well, even if I do say so myself, thank you very much.

CASS:You’re my little S-Superman, aren’t you, Doug?

PETE:Yes, although I don’t think the original Superman was blind, obese and a bit deaf.

CASSete - what are you doing with that mop?

PETE:What am I doing with the mop?

DOUG:Give me my glasses, give me my glasses! I… What are you doing with Meredith?!

PETE:I…

DOUG:You were dancing with her, weren’t you?

CASS:That’s… odd…

DOUG:I don’t believe my eyes. Every date I’ve ever had, every lady I’ve ever wanted to kiss – you’ve been there, like a vulture-

PETEoug, for crying out-!

DOUG:You were serenading her. You’ve turned her head.

PETE:It was loose! Doug, the floor was just a bit mucky, that’s all-

DOUG:You know Meredith is my lucky mop. And you’ve… soiled her.

CASS:Guys, you’ve gone all weird on me.

PETE:I was just dancing round, having some fun. I thought you’d drowned, didn’t I?

CASSoug, there’s nothing to get upset about! I think I’ve got some cocoa somewhere…

PETE:He’s developed some weird, freaky little fixation. He’s been spotted snogging a broom before.

DOUG:Now that’s not fair. You framed me! You told me it was a woman.

PETE:How stupid do you have to be? Have you seen any women recently!? How many had one inch wide bodies and more bristle than David Bellamy? Apart from Cass?

CASS:Tch, that’s rude.

DOUG:I’d had too much to drink. My contact lenses fell out. I’m always the butt of your jokes - I wish you’d never come back for us. And you’ve drunk all the booze!

PETE:What a failure. You can’t even drown your sorrows.

CASS:I’m going in the cabin, I’m freezing – and this storm’s only getting worse.

F/X: DOOR SLAMMING.

DOUG:You were looking for us, weren’t you?

PETEf course I was - it just turns out I’m not very good at steering this damn thing. Don’t tell Cass, I don’t want her to think I’m soft.

DOUG:No. Wouldn’t want that. Come on.

F/X: DOOR SLAMMING. NOISE OF STORM REDUCED. CREAKING NOISES.

CASS:Guys! I’ve only just – there’s no privacy in here, is there?

DOUG:We can watch some television.

PETE:What?

DOUG:The time is ripe. Got my laptop with me.

CASSoug, where are you going to plug it in?

DOUG:Battery’s fully charged – it is all accounted for. I can get at least three hours out of it. When that runs out, I have spares.

CASSo you mean the double As you packed, Doug?

DOUGh, ye of little faith! I am a techno wizard. I can adapt the laptop to take them with some wire. Well, not wire exactly, because we didn’t have any, so I have joined fifty-six paperclips together.

CASS:Can you watch television on a computer?

DOUGh yes. It has a TV card installed. Any second now…

PETEoug, it’s the middle of the Atlantic Ocean! It’s going to be slightly trickier than fiddling with the aerial a bit. This is pitiful. It took me a week to convince him not to bring his in-car Satnav.

DOUGh dear. Just a blur of rubbish on the screen.

PETE:Is that it – we can only pick up channel five? The irony. Can’t be bothered to put a transmitter up in Chiswick, but hey, you never know when you might be lost in the middle of the Atlantic, do you?

DOUGo. Have to resort to Plan B: the movie.

PETEoug, I’m not watching one of your mucky DVDs.

DOUG:What do you mean? I don’t have any DVDs. Of that type.

PETE:Really? “Glad-Eye Gladys and the Spider from Uranus”. Does that stir up any, er, memories?

DOUG:No. I thought it was David Bowie! You have been opening my post!

PETE:Not after seeing that, I haven’t. That front cover haunted my dreams for weeks - proof that for every mad fetish there’s another grubby filmmaker cashing in.

CASS:What was it about?

PETE:Have a guess. You’ll never get it.

DOUG:You could be making it up, anyway. You could just say anything.

PETE:No, I photocopied it, look. I carry it around with me.

CASSh my God.

PETE:Whenever there’s an awkward pause or anything, I just whip this out – it gets people talking every time.

CASS:What is that?

PETE:What it looks like: ten topless lesbians bonking a bowl of pretzels.

DOUG:Actually it’s Twiglets.

PETEoes it really matter?

CASS:A bowl of Twiglets!?

DOUG:Yes, in my humble opinion, that’s why it’s arty.

CASS:What’s erotic about a Twiglet?

DOUG:They’re sort of knobbly, aren’t they? Geometrically pleasing.

CASS:Ew, they look like genital warts. Do you really think Twiglets are sexy?

DOUGepends how you eat them.

PETE:None of them got eaten! Not with what was going on in that video! Although it might have improved the taste, come to think of it. Actually, are you sure it wasn’t a behind the scenes look at how the flavouring is put onto Twiglets?

CASS:No, they use Marmite I think. Oh, that’s disgusting! What did you buy?

DOUG:Nothing. Rented it. Godzilla.

PETE:You rented it?

DOUG:Correct.

PETE:When are you going to return it? We can’t just pop it back, can we?

DOUG:I’ve taken that into consideration. We can post it back to them.

PETE:Yes. I think you’ve forgotten something, Doug.

DOUG:You’re right. Does anyone have a stamp?

PETE:You’re not even a member of a video club. It’s going to cost you a bomb when you get back.

CASS:I thought you couldn’t take anything out unless you were a member.

PETEBEAT) Where’s my video club card, Doug?

DOUG:I don’t know.

F/X: SCUFFLE

PETE:Where is it?

CASStop it.

DOUG:I don’t know!

PETE:This whole trip has been a farce from the start due to you! Now unless you give me my bloody card back, they’ll find me washed up on some distant shore using your large intestine as a skipping rope!

DOUG:It’s here, it’s here!

PETE:You little-

DOUG:I’m sorry! I was just short of a little cash, saw your wallet, and - you know.

PETEo I? ‘Short of a little cash’?! You thieving scrote! How did you find out my club number?

DOUG:It’s printed on the card.

PETE:Brilliant.

DOUG:I know, it is an idiotic procedure. I’d offer to devise a new system for them, but then your card would be useless to me.

PETE:This trip was supposed to save me money!

CASS:It’s a nice laptop, Doug. Oh my God, what is that screensaver?! That’s me!

DOUG:Whoops. There you go. It’s Captain Kirk now.

CASS:I was blowing kisses. What was I doing with my hand?

DOUG:Just give that screen a wipe…

CASS:Why have you got that on your computer, Doug?

DOUG:I just sneezed, honestly.

CASS:The screensaver!

DOUGtorm’s getting worse.

CASS:I’m a bit creeped out by this, Doug!

PETE:God, the storm really is getting worse. We don’t have any hatches to batten down, do we?

CASS:We just have to sit tight! Wow, look at those waves. This is kind of scary. (PAUSE) I’m not that scared Doug, keep your hands to yourself.

DOUG:Thought you might want a hug.

CASS:I can’t see any of the rations in here, guys. Just boxes and boxes of pork scratchings.

DOUG:The rations are outside.

PETE:Are you serious?

F/X: DOOR OPENING. STORM LOUDER.

CASSSHOUTING) They’re gone! They’re all gone! Everything’s been washed away.

DOUG:Good job someone was prepared, then.

F/X: CRUNCHING OF SCRATCHINGS

Mmm.

PETE:I’m going to kill him! Come here.

CASS:Look at these waves! We can’t take much more! I’m going to have to drop the sea anchor!

DOUGh Lord.

THE STORM STOPS ABRUPTLY. A FEW DROPS OF RAIN FALL.

CASSh. Look, it’s stopped. Look at the sky!

DOUG:It’s a miracle.

F/X: CLAXON

CASS:There’s a ship – it’s huge!

PETE:I can hear something.

DOUG:They’re singing.

TO THE TUNE OF GEORGE HARRISON’S “MY SWEET LORD” (THE HARE KRISHNA BIT) WE HEAR THE MURMURINGS OF ‘HARE FISH PASTE’ AND CHEERS FROM A CROWD.

PETE:I don’t believe it.

DOUG:This is a turn-up for the books.

WE HEAR, QUITE CLEARLY NOW, A THRONG SINGING ‘HARE FISH PASTE… HARE FISH PASTE, SALMON FISH PASTE… SALMON FISH PASTE …’

CASS:Wow – look at all those Action Men!

PETE:There’s a bloke with a loud-hailer! Looks like he’s going to say something to us…

DOUG:There’s something very fishy going on here.

FADE.

F/X: CLICK OF TAPE RECORDER

DOUG:Captain’s log, supplemental. I have several questions. What will this strange and secretive sect say to me? I am the Messiah who founded their religion. Will they revere me as a God, or come aboard, hand out a few leaflets and be impossible to get rid of? Why did we end on such an awful joke? It really stank. I hope my next entry will answer all these questions, and more. Signing off.

GRAMS: THEME MUSIC.

CREDITS.

DOUG:I’ll just switch my laptop off. Don’t want the battery to run down. Oh, it already has.

ENDS

Don't think you'll get many critiques, too long mate. good in places, but needs a better finish, Is there any other kind of anchor than a 'sea' one. That's a question not a critique.Other than that, I really liked it.

Haha, no, a sea anchor is a specific type of anchor. I researched it! It is in fact the exact tool for the job.

The response graveyard that is this thread is what made me think you wouldn't get many critiques of your, admittedly far shorter, post.

But! now you're here the replies are bound to skyrocket! Even if it is just people slagging each other off!

Cheers for the feedback Jerf. Any ideas as to how I could end it more capably? What were your favourite bits? What did you perceive to be the dead wood? When you're so familiar with something you tend to go script-blind.

Hi James. I can't understand why you say people won't read a lengthy piece, as writers, surely we're interested.
Anyway, this is my twopenneth. A nit pick first, the dialogue goes a long way before you mention Pete's name so the listener maybe confused as to who he is.
Early on I think there's too much 'pie-face' exposition, when they talk about being on the dole for ages etc. That should come out more subtly, I feel that it's written to explain their situation to the listener but it's too obvious.
so something like....'Missing your regular Giros are you?' not that exactly but that's a more subtle way of telling us he's been on the dole, if you get my drift.
Otherwise it's good, i liked it.

Quote: bushbaby @ January 11, 2008, 12:34 PM

Hi James. I can't understand why you say people won't read a lengthy piece, as writers, surely we're interested.
Anyway, this is my twopenneth. A nit pick first, the dialogue goes a long way before you mention Pete's name so the listener maybe confused as to who he is.
Early on I think there's too much 'pie-face' exposition, when they talk about being on the dole for ages etc. That should come out more subtly, I feel that it's written to explain their situation to the listener but it's too obvious.
so something like....'Missing your regular Giros are you?' not that exactly but that's a more subtle way of telling us he's been on the dole, if you get my drift.
Otherwise it's good, i liked it.

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Cheers for that.
Yeah, I'm glad you pointed that out. I sent it off to the Beeb a few years and even more drafts back and they told me that the characters had no real reason to be on the boat. Now, I thought they had, but it seemed I had to make it more explicit. It's something that's been at the back of my mind for a bit, I think, I seem to remember tinkering with it for a while. I'll try and tone it down a bit. Hmm.... *scratches head*

I've just glanced over and it shouldn't be too difficult to tone it down, should it?! Seems very amaturishly... er... "pie-face", nice term!