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This Was Comedy. It Was Drama. It Was Rubbish. May I Present... My Year 9 Eisteddfod Sketch I make no promises to greatness. In fact I make no promises to anythingness |
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Cast of Characters:
THE DIRECTOR ACTOR PLAYING “MOTHER” ACTOR PLAYING “SON” ACTOR PLAYING “DOCTOR” 2 ACTORS PLAYING “THE PARAMEDICS” 2 SINGERS (CAN BE PLAYED BY PARAMEDICS, IF THEY CAN CHANGE QUICK ENOUGH)
SCENE:
DIRECTOR sits on the right of the stage, dressed in very stereotypical directing gear, black beret, glasses, cigarette in one hand a megaphone in the other, clipboard on lap and looking bored witless.
SINGERS are to his left, in the centre of the stage. They are performing a GOD-AWFUL version of “Annie’s Song” by John Denver. There doesn’t need to be any music.
SINGERS You fill up my senses, like a night in the forest. Like a mount-
DIRECTOR Cut! Okay, okay. Thank you. We’ll get back to you on that one.
The singers look a bit disappointed and walk off stage right, past the DIRECTOR who makes a “Thank God that’s over face” behind them.
DIRECTOR Next!
An acting group files onto the stage from the right. “MOTHER” and “SON” move to stage centre, while “DOCTOR” and “THE PARAMEDICS” move way over to stage left and wait in the wings – visible to the audience, yet out of the action for now. “MOTHER” is dressed in housewife gear, apron round her waist and feather duster in hand. “SON” wears a school uniform, “DOCTOR” and “PARAMEDICS” wear their uniforms (PARAMEDICS have a stretcher).
MOTHER We’re doing an original short piece, written by myself.
DIRECTOR Okay, go ahead.
He writes something on his clipboard. “SON” goes over to stage left and then walks up to “MOTHER”, who busies herself dusting the stage. (These lines and actions are delivered quite flatly and hurried, as is the actors are very nervous)
MOTHER Why are you home so early? You’re supposed to be at school, young man.
SON I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel well.
MOTHER I’m sick of you skiving off school! If your father was here, he’d tan your hide.
SON (shouting) Well, he’s not is he? I’m going to have a lie down in my room!
He stomps stage left, and then collapses on the floor. MOTHER rushes to him.
MOTHER Oh my son, my son, my son! Somebody, please call a Doctor!
DOCTOR leaps superhero like onto the stage and adopts the hands on hip stance.
DOCTOR I am here.
MOTHER Oh Doctor, please help my son!
DOCTOR examines the boy, then stands up and takes MOTHERS hands.
DOCTOR I’m afraid your son is dead.
MOTHER NO! NO! I want a second opinion, please! He’s all I have left in the world.
DOCTOR kicks SON, and then gestures to his body.
DOCTOR He’s really dead.
MOTHER sobs.
DOCTOR Paramedics!!
“THE PARAMEDICS” walk onto the stage with their stretcher. They’re very mechanical, almost robotic and do not make a sound. They lift the body onto the stretcher and start to carry it off the stage.
Throughout this, the DIRECTOR has looked bothered.
DIRECTOR Cut! Cut! Okay, that was good. Sorta, but you know, you could do so much more with this piece. Try and do it with a bit more drama. Okay?
They nod. He waves to them to get back in their starting positions, and they move.
DIRECTOR Okay and, action!
MOTHER and SON on the stage. This time the sketch is performed with really over the top bad “Soap Opera” style dramatics.
MOTHER Why are you home so early, sweetheart? You’re supposed to be at school.
SON I’ve got a headache. Do you think maybe, it could be a brain tumour?
MOTHER No, it was your father kidnapped by aliens, not you. Besides, you already had cancer of the spleen when you were five.
SON Well, I’m going to have a lie down in my room.
MOTHER Oh, I think your cousin Tiffany is having a nap in there. Don’t wake her.
SON looks at the audience with a wicked sexy grin and winks at them, grabs his head in really theatrical pain and then collapses on the floor. MOTHER rushes to him, wailing REALLY LOUDLY.
MOTHER Oh my son, my son, my son! Somebody, please call a Doctor!
DOCTOR leaps superhero like onto the stage and adopts the hands on hip stance.
DOCTOR I am here.
MOTHER Oh Doctor, please help my son! He’s my only son apart from his twin who was kidnapped at birth, but I’ve never talked about that since my problems with crack.
DOCTOR examines the boy, then stands up and takes MOTHERS hands.
DOCTOR I’m afraid that your son is dead.
MOTHER NO! NO! I need a second opinion, please! He’s all I have left in the world.
DOCTOR kicks SON, and then gestures to his body.
DOCTOR He’s really dead. But worry not; I’ll help you find his long lost twin. For I am really your brother.
MOTHER sobs. Loud.
DOCTOR Paramedics! Paramedics!
He has to shout twice and loudly over the MOTHERS wailing.
“THE PARAMEDICS” walk onto the stage with their stretcher. They’re exactly the same. They start to put the son on the stretcher.
DIRECTOR has his head in his hands.
DIRECTOR Okay, okay, okay. Cut!
He gets up and walks to them, then says to himself:
DIRECTOR I guess I asked for that.
To the actors (he gestures wildly as he speaks):
DIRECTOR Look, I didn’t mean DO the drama, I meant FEEL the drama. There’s drama here, there’s music in the words, there’s song in the actions. Feel the music. Okay? Let’s try it like that. Yeah? Yeah?
The actors look perplexed, but nod and move back to position.
DIRECTOR And, action!
The actors begin again. This time they sing all their lines in a terrible musical style with no music and no… style.
MOTHER Why are you home so soon? You’re supposed to be at school, it’s just past noon.
SON I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel well. I think I’ll lie down for a spell.
MOTHER Go then wretch of a child, next time I won’t be so mild.
He dance lightly to stage left, and then starts to collapse and grab his head, kinda like a dying swan.
SON Oh Mother it hurts, I don’t know what is worse. Your constant nagging or this pounding curse.
He dies. For a long time.
MOTHER Oh my son, my son! What has been done? What have you got? Call for the Doc!
She screams out the last line. DOCTOR leaps ballet dancer style onto the stage, and spins and high kicks for a bit, dancing with his bag, his white coat billowing like a cloak.
DOCTOR I am here, never fear; let’s see what we can do…
DOCTOR can’t think of a rhyme, so he finishes lamely:
DOCTOR My dear.
MOTHER Oh Doctor-
She draws out the “oh” for a long time (as long as she can manage) and the DIRECTOR looks pained.
DIRECTOR CUT!
The DIRECTOR looks like he might cry. He walks to them slowly like he has a heavy burden.
DIRECTOR Okay, so we went a bit too ambitious. Okay? Right, remember your first try? Yeah? Let’s go back to that. Let’s try to do that again, but spice it up just a teensy bit. You and you. Let’s go for a bit of sexual tension between you two. Just a bit. Yeah? That sound good?
They nod. The DOCTOR and the MOTHER are the sexual tension monkeys.
DIRECTOR And, action.
The actors move to their original positions. This sequence, the SON acts like he did in the first sketch, while the MOTHER speaks with a very breathy, Marilyn voice. The DOCTOR is studly as usual, but magnified.
MOTHER Why are you home so early? You’re supposed to be at school.
SON I’ve got a headache. I don’t feel well.
MOTHER I don’t like you skiving off school, darling.
SON I’m going to have a lie down in my room.
He walks stage left, and then collapses on the floor. MOTHER rushes to him, leaning over purposely so the audience can get a good look at her cleavage.
MOTHER Oh my son, my son, my son! Somebody, please call a Doctor!
DOCTOR leaps superhero like onto the stage and adopts the hands on hip stance.
DOCTOR I am here, baby.
He looks down at the MOTHER and cheesy grins.
DOCTOR How are you, little lady?
MOTHER stands and walks over to the DOCTOR.
MOTHER Oh Doctor!
She grabs his bicep, and coos:
MOTHER Ooh Doctor!
She strokes up and down his arm.
DOCTOR peers down at the boy.
DOCTOR The kids dead, sugar.
MOTHER Whatever. Kiss me, Doctor. Kiss me right here right now.
MOTHER flings off her apron. The DOCTOR bends the MOTHER over and kisses the crap out of her. The PARAMEDICS sombrely arrive on stage and lay the stretcher down next to the SON, but the Doctor manoeuvres the MOTHER onto it, still kissing. The DIRECTOR looks totally pained, and doesn’t really know how to verbalise.
DIRECTOR Cut! For the love of God, CUT!
BEAT
DIRECTOR Okay, so we’ll, uh, we’ll call you.
The actors file off stage right.
DIRECTOR When hell freezes over, maybe.
He walks to stage front.
DIRECTOR Next! And goodnight!
He exits stage left.
END |
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| © Indie | |
