Showing posts with label theater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theater. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Unfinished Snack, Or Unlimited Shack, Or Alvin Or Bust (National Sketch Writing Month)

[This scene has untold numbers of blanks to fill in. Like a partial Mad Lib... Anyway, it could use a beginning & an end, & possibly some other things. Characters, so far: ALVIN & BUSTAMANTE or BUSTER.]

ALVIN: I will try. I will try! Now get away from me.

BUST: Try, Alvin, try!

A: OK, but say that over there instead.

[B goes over "there," which is not over "here."]

B: OK. Try!

A: No, never say that.

B: Are you sure?

A: No.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

America's Next Tough Dummy (National Sketch Writing Month)

[Mannequin or statue stands on stage. Might be in a store window or other display, though not necessarily. 2 "tough guys," FRED & UNFRED, enter.]

UNFRED: Hey, Fred-- look at that thing. (indicating the dummy to his friend)

FRED (smiles): Oh, yeah-- Heya, dope.

U: Hey, ya dummy.

[Slight pause; both stand there smiling as if they're waiting for dummy's hurt or angry reaction.]

F: Like, 'Oh, No, my feelings don't work!'

U: Hey, Fred-- 'my face doesn't work!'

F: 'Oh, no, my teeth don't work!'

U: My face is all worn out!

F: Yeah! From not saying nothin'!

U: Yeah!

[Both laugh. Then they both look disappointed, crestfallen.]

U: For real, though. What a dummy.

F: Yeah. Won't even talk or nothin.'

U: Yeah, like, what's the point?

F: Yeah, what's the point of anything?

[Pause.]

U: Damn.

[End.]

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Dang All Butterflies (National Sketch Writing Month)

[Some kind of sweet, happy classical instrumental music plays. BUTTERFLIES 1 & 2 (any genders, & their first names can be changed) do a "graceful" synchronized dance routine, 30 seconds or so, long enough to set a mood of niceness (pretty, feminine, genteel). Then BUTTERFLY 1 picks up or "pulls out" a wide piece of ribbon, several feet long, & unfurls it. BUTTERFLY 2 picks up the other end of the ribbon & they continue to dance, each still holding his or her end of the ribbon, this time dancing apart then coming together, hastily & half-heartedly attempting to tie their ends together in a bow, which they fail to do. Then they dance apart again, then come back together, & try again to gracefully tie the bow again. At this point they might get the ribbon tangled, then dance apart again, then come back together, then try again to make the ribbon look nice-- always while trying to dance gracefully & always failing to tie the bow. Music & BUTTERFLIES stop.]

BUTTERFLY 1: What the hell, man?!

BUTTERFLY 2 (folds arms over chest): Screw this.

B1: How can you say that? Tying pretty bows is what animates us butterflies!

B2: Yeah, but... But... [Pause.] There's no princess.

B1 (more quietly, patiently): I know. [Pause.] It's not the same without Kevin. Those flowing golden curls... Tying ribbons on her was the most natural thing in the world. It was like--

B2 (sadly): --magic.

[Pause while they both look sad for a moment, then:]

B1 (suddenly cheerful): But we'll get a new Kevin soon.

B2: I don't want a new Kevin! I'm done with all princesses. I've given up!

B1 (shocked, angry): You--!! Well, FINE! If you wanna know the truth, I've been thinking of breaking up the band for a long time.

B2: Oh, yeah? That's fine with me, too! That's just fine!

B1: Well, fine!

B2: Fine.

[They turn their backs to each other & both fold their arms over their chests & pout. Pause.]

B2 (gently): Brad?

B1 (also softened a little): What is it, Linda?

B2 (not gently): I hate you.


[The End... or is it??]

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Don't Be That Bacon (The Post that Posts Itself) (NaSkeWRiMo)

[These could be 2 co-workers at neighboring desks or cubicles, or customer & worker (like a librarian), or many other things, preferably not food-related. Also, they must be utterly serious & natural the whole time. Think of a parallel universe in which this scene wold be normal.]

A: How're you doing?

B: Oh, bacon.

A: Just bacon, huh?

B: Yeah. Last week I was toast.

A: Regular toast?

B: If you really wanna know, I was super toast.

A: Oh, yeah. I get like that sometimes, too.

[No end. This really should go on & on. Like a show. It must go on. Or maybe I'll think of an ending.]