I've never done stand up in my life, I've never written anything for it either until now, so would appreciate some feed back on if this is how you would go about it, etc. Also this is a "outline" of what would be said, obviously it would be delivered in a more natural way than it is written.
Thanks:
Hi guys. Sorry I'm late. Nearly didn't make it at all to be honest. My Grandfather died the other week, and his funeral was today, so you know.
I seem to be surrounded by death lately. My grandfather's dog died last week and then my Grandfather. The romantic in me likes to think that my Grandfather died of a broken heart, you know after his beloved dog died. However the realist in me knows that it was probably when the dog pulled them both under the bus, but like I say I'm a romantic at heart. I like to think that, as my Grandfather saw the wheels of the bus roll over the dogs head, and he was pulled under, he thought to himself "I couldn't live without that dog anyway", and he sort of welcomed death with open arms. Though witnesses did say that his final words were "you stupid f**king dog". Which kind of taints it for me really.
It's a shame though. He took that dog everywhere. Her name was Gladys, after my late Grandmother. My mother had bought her for him after my Nan died, so he wouldn't get lonely. So he named it after my Nan. My mother thought that was a lovely gesture. She even insisted we call in Nana. Which took a bit of getting used, but once they gave the dog a blue rinse and made it wear horn rimmed glasses it only seemed natural.
It did cause a bit of a stir with the neighbours at first. Especially the ones in number 43. They'd been on holiday when my Grandmother had died. They knew she was ill, but when they got back and heard the Grandkids shouting from the kitchen "Grandad, nana's wee'd on the floor again" and my Grandfather reply "Just rub her nose in it, and throw her in the garden. She has to bloody learn. Also give a whack with the news paper." Social services were around in no time. It worked out ok.
Like I said, my Grandfather became very attached to Gladys the dog. To him it was like my nan was still alive. And to us I suppose. I remember going round one Sunday afternoon for lunch. My Grandfather had come home from the pub drunk and in a foul mood. Nana just give him one of her looks and carried on making the dinner. And they say poodles are supposed to be stupid. Not this one. She could cook a roast like Delia Smith. A bit heavy handed with the salt in my opinion, but top notch besides that. However on this particular day my Grandfather found fault with everything. He stomped around the house shouting things like "Why is this house not as clean as it used to be?" "Why don't darn my socks anymore?" "Why are you more adventurous in bed these days?" Things like that, you know, which used to hurt poor nana's feelings. But they got on with things like everyone does.
They did however have to stop my grandfather from sending nana to pick us up from school. The teachers said it wasn't safe, even if nana was wearing a high vis vest.
