This is the opening scene of something I started to write about a year and a half ago when I first got this laptop. Like everything else I gave up pretty quickly, but I'd be interested to see what people think. I think the characters are far too much like The Mighty Boosh, if I remember correctly I did start to write this after a Boosh marathon which probably had a bit of an influence, but anyway.
This was basically going to be about two guys in their mid 20s who are living together (groundbreaking stuff, I know). I may try and finish it just to put off revising even more.
SCENE ONE. ZAK’S AND PATRICK’S LIVING ROOM.
PATRICK IS SITTING DOWN ON THE SOFA WATCHING TV. A PLASTIC LIGHTSABRE SUDDENLY APPEARS IN FRONT OF HIS FACE
ZAK: It’s shit-your-pants time, Jedi scum!
PATRICK (pushing lightsabre away): Zak! … I’m watching Deal Or No Deal.
ZAK: You just touched the light sabre. Never touch a lightsabre! This thing can slice through metal…
ZAK MIMES A SLICING ACTION THROUGH THE AIR WITH THE LIGHTSABRE
ZAK: … like it was a cheesecake.
PATRICK: It’s not a real light sabre, it’s a toy. At the very most all it can do is cause superficial damaging to furniture and fittings.
ZAK: Yeah but I bet it would bruise you if I hit you round the face with it.
PATRICK: Try it, and I’ll shove it up your arse.
ZAK: (smiles) Alright, kinky.
ZAK SITS NEXT TO PATRICK ON THE SOFA. PATRICK IS VISIBLY IRRITATED.
ZAK: (referring to TV) How’s she doing?
PATRICK: The last two boxes left are the £20,000 box and the 1p. The banker’s offered her £6,000. It’s a tense moment for everyone involved.
CAMERA SHOT IN FRONT OF ZAK AND PATRICK, BUT LOOKING TOWARDS THE TV. OUT OF THE CORNER OF THE PICTURE, THE LIGHTSABRE APPEARS, AND FLICKS OVER THE CHANNEL.
PATRICK: (angry) What are you doing?!
ZAK: (laughing) Oh come on Patrick, that was comedy.
PATRICK: That was not comedy. The Two Ronnies are comedy. Harry Enfield is comedy. Even Russell Brand, by some stretch of the imagination, is comedy. That was just incredibly irritating.
...What are you doing in anyway? Shouldn’t you be out bothering the people of Camden with your scrotum-squashing jeans and that ridiculous haircut?
ZAK: You’re just jealous ‘cause you can't fit into jeans like these. And know you've tried!
PATRICK: Yeah... well... I've just got bigger bones than you that's all.
ZAK: And when you try to grow your hair it turns into a big curly afro-perm.
PATRICK: Look, I am not jealous of *you*. Besides, those hairstyles were all the rage in the seventies.
ZAK: Exactly! This is the noughties now. You need to adapt, move with the times. Keep up with the fashion. Unless you’re me, in which case, you’re two steps ahead of the game.
PATRICK: So witch-hair and spindly legs is in fashion at the moment is it?
ZAK: It will be in 6 months time. By then I’ll be onto Wizard’s cloak and clogs. (smiles) It’s gonna be mad.
PATRICK: You’re mad.
ZAK: Your face is mad.
PATRICK: Are we just going to sit here all day and insult each other? It’s a nice day out, why don’t we go into town and buy some lunch or something?
ZAK: Your mum’s mad.
PATRICK: (losing patience) Zak…
ZAK: Alright, fine. Can we stop in the corner shop on the way though? I need to buy some things.
PATRICK: What things?
ZAK: Magic beans.
PATRICK: They do not sell magic beans in the corner shop at the bottom of our road.
ZAK: Have you ever asked them for magic beans?
PATRICK: No.
ZAK: Exactly.
CUT TO: ETX. ON STREET, OUTSIDE CORNER SHOP.
PATRICK IS STANDING OUTSIDE THE SHOP WAITING PATIENTLY FOR ZAK. ZAK EMERGES FROM THE SHOP.
PATRICK: So then, any luck with the magic beans?
ZAK: Nah, but they did have fruit pastilles.
PATRICK: Why would you want fruit pastilles?
ZAK: They’re chewy and delicious. Plus they give me one of my 5-a-day.
PATRICK: They’re not made of real fruit you know.
ZAK: ‘Course they are. If they weren’t made of real fruit they’d be called fruit-based pastilles.
PATRICK: They’re just sweets.
ZAK: They’ve got different colours for the different flavours and everything.
PATRICK: They’re all artificially coloured. Nothing’s real anymore, everything’s artificial. Sheep were originally green until farmers complained that they were too well camouflaged.
ZAK: How did they turn them white then?
PATRICK: Bleach.
ZAK: (smiles) Mental.
PATRICK: Look, why don’t we go to an art gallery?
ZAK: Art gallery? Why would we want to do that?
PATRICK: You know… take in a bit of culture.
ZAK: Culture? In an art gallery? There’s more culture in my underpants.
PATRICK: There’ll be lots of women there. They love guys who are into a bit of art, a bit of reading, pondering over a coffee in a fancy café with a Guardian tucked under your arm.
ZAK: Why do you talk about women all the time? We don’t need women. We’re just two young guys, living together, having fun.
PATRICK AND ZAK BOTH LOOK DOWN AT THE FLOOR, LIKE THEY'VE JUST REALISED SOMETHING IS SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH THEIR LIVES.
ZAK: Which way’s the art gallery?
PATRICK AND ZAK WALK OFF DOWN THE ROAD.
