Update on the Fan monologue.

This is just a quick update to show where I am at with the "Talking Heads" inspired monologue. It's still in it's pre-draft stage. I haven't even completed the skeleton, yet alone added the flesh. :)


Fan can be a male or a female, young or old, fat or thin. This choice is up to the director.

FAN

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am a rock and roll fan. Always have been, always will be. Rolling Stones, Kinks, maybe The Beatles. Defiantly The Beatles.

Holds up ticket.

I've got my ticket to see my all time favorite band in two weeks times. The gig's in London. London! The land of hope and dreams. Or is that New York? Or Paris? Never mind.
I'm getting the band shirt. It costs £35, but it will be totally worth it. Darren says I should get the hoodie and buttons as well. Depends on how much it costs.

Smiles

"Please allow me to introduce myself." Funny. Rock and roll is in my blood. My old man was the drummer in a band called Wednesday. Not very big, but the fans were loyal, almost to a point of obsessive.

Glances to the side, where it is presumed there is a photo.

My mum met my dad at a gig. There was love at first sight. She had just kicked some pervert in the balls for grabbing her bum. The funny thing was that the perv was my dads best mate, Trev.

Looks into the camera.

I'm so excited.

So, yeah, as always: if you like it, comment. If you hate it, comment. Thanks.

Caroline

P.S: I'm going to be trying my best to update at least once a week. Can't make any promises, but I'll do my darned best.

Excerpt from a script called "Lord of the Flies"

The layout looks odd. I don't know what's going on with it. :/

JACK                                                             
This is for you, beast. Stay away from us, or we shall      
attack and kill you. Understood? Great.                     
                                                                           
He thrusts the head down onto the stake and blood      
splats onto the boys.                                  
                                                                           
JACK                                                             
Hunters! Back to Castle Rock.                               
                                                                           
They runs, dragging the body along behind them.        
                                                                           
Flies buzz around the head as blood drips from it.     
The sun has set and it is dark. Simon walks up to      
it.                                                    
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
Hello? Is anybody here? Jack? Hello?                        
                                                                           
A spotlight on the head.                               
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
Welcome Simon.                                              
                                                                               

SIMON                                                            
Who was that? Come out. I’m not frighted.                   
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
I am here, Simon. Right in front of you.                    
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
But. But you’re-?                                           
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
What am I?                                                  
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
You’re the lord of the flies. What do you want with me?     
Leave me alone!                                             
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
No. You will never get away from me, Simon. You will be     
here forever.                                               
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
You’re lying!                                               
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
Oh, I’m not. Sorry to disappoint you. I exist within        
all men. All you little boys on the island. You can         
never leave me.                                             
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
I feel sick.                                                
                                                                           
LORD OF THE FLIES                                                
Goodbye, Simon.                                             
                                                                           
SIMON                                                            
I feel...                                                   
                                                                           
He faints. 

Excerpt from a short script called "The Walk Home".

This is a very basic script where the only spoken words are from the narrator. My English teacher told my to write about what I know. Therefore, I wrote about walking home from college. "TWH" is short and sweet. Maybe about 5, 6 minutes long.

People with dogs, people playing, people walking, people on

bikes, people sitting talking, people sunbathing.

NARRATOR

(cont.)

Walking their yappy dogs, chucking

an old red Frisbee around, playing

a game that seems to have no rules

or winners. I wanted to join in, but I had to

get home. My parents would worry if

I wasn’t back soon.

A ball is booted over towards GIRL by a mixed group of

youngish people playing football. One of them jogs over to

GIRL, to get the ball.

NARRATOR

(cont.)

Sometimes, a ball would come

heading my way. I would kick it

back, not looking at the person

running towards me. Maybe to thank

me. To smile at me. To ask me my

name.

GIRL looks away. Not in an unkind way, just the way you

would with anybody.

NARRATOR

(cont.)

I would avoid all eye contact. I

didn’t want to look like a

desperate-freak.

An old couple is sitting on a bench with their legs wrapped

in a blanket and a sandwich each. They are chatting to each

other and smiling.

NARRATOR

(cont.)

Old couples sitting on a bench,

talking to each other. Do they have

children? Grandchildren? A pet?

The layout is (I believe) different from how it usually it, but that's how life is. Leave a comment if you want to read more, etc, etc.
Caroline
x

Excerpt from a short script called "Stories at Midnight".

This is a short screenplay and would be approx 10 minutes long. It is a conversation between a tramp and a drag-queen.

A Tramp sits at the bus shelter. He is dirty and his clothes are

stained with dirt and other such materials. He has two full

black bin bags at his feet and a small duffel-bag on his

lap. He is clutching the duffel-bag to his chest and appears

to be asleep.

TRAMP

(V.O)

My name is Noah L. Osborne. I am

42, even though I appear much

older. I am a tramp. A down and

out. Some would even call me a bum.

A Drag-queen quietly sits down next to the tramp. He sniffs

and pulls a tissue out of his clutch bag. He blows his nose

and drops the tissue onto the floor.

The drag-queen sighs and looks at the Tramp, who is looking

at him.

DRAG-QUEEN

Sorry, hunny. Did I wake you?

TRAMP

No. I was already awake.

DRAG-QUEEN

I’m Sugar-Snatch.

TRAMP

Noah.

They both sit in silence. The Drag-Queen sniffs again.

TRAMP

Do you have a cold?

DRAG-QUEEN

No. Not really.

TRAMP

Then what’s wrong?

DRAG-QUEEN

Nothing. I’m just having a

conversation with a smelly tramp.

TRAMP

Thanks.

DRAG-QUEEN

I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough night.

There is a twist at the end of the story, that I hope nobody would guess. :)

If you want to find out more about this script you can leave a comment and I'll get back to you ASAP.

Caroline x

Excerpt from a short script called "Craving".

This is a short screenplay and would be approx 10 minutes long. It's about a woman called Kelly who gets major chocolate cravings. Here it is.

Kelly walks into the kitchen and goes to a cupboard with a

piece of paper stuck to it. "Chocolate". She open the

cupboard door, but there is no chocolate in the cupboard.

She stands on tiptoe and sees a small bar of chocolate at

the very back. She tries to grab it but can’t quite reach

it.

KELLY

Shit.

She grabs a chair and stands on it. She grabs the chocolate

bar and leaps off the chair.

KELLY

Sweet, sweet chocolate. How I have

missed your soft and luxurious

taste. How I have missed your

beautiful creaminess. How I have

missed your - for Christs sake!

As she was saying those words she opens the chocolate bar,

only to discover it was just a wrapper.

KELLY

Oh, chocolate god! Stop taking the

piss.

She walks out of the kitchen.

If you are interested in the outcome of Kelly's story or if you want to see the rest of the script, you could leave a comment! If you ask nicely I might e-mail the completed version to you.

Caroline x