Sassasas
Member
hey im doing performance for my ip.. ive got a piece about... um... how bout i just post it eh?
Anyway.. im looking for another bit i can adapt to put at the beginning, im thinking something on the lines of a mental institution, any ideas? email me
stufforsassy@hotmail.com
Any opinions, pointers, critcism welcome. Id be willing to do the same for anyone else.
Thanx
[Bob and Daphne are in the nursery area of a city hospital. The audience is where the babies would be; the actors are on the other side of the 'glass'. Bob tells Daphne that his father had just shot himself and that Bob was the one who found him and brought him to the hospital. After Daphne has expressed her sympathies and is about to leave, Bob reveals that he was only joking. This is the 'last straw' in a conversation that has been, to say the least, disconcerting for Daphne]
[BOB: [Still laughing.] Look, I'm sorry. [She turns away] I'm sorry! I couldn't resist. It was a joke.]
DAPHNE: How could you say something like that? About your father?
[BOB: It was a joke! What? What's the big deal? You never told a joke about you father? Come on.]
[She turns to face him]
DAPHNE: You want to hear a joke about my father? One night, when I was twelve years old, my father decided to decorate the house for Christmas. He'd never done it before, but this year he had just gotten a raise at work, and I guess he wanted to show off to the rest of the neighbourhood. So about a week before Christmas, dad went out and bought up all of the lights and decorations he could find. It had all been pretty much picked over by then, there wasn't much left, but he still got a lot. One store owner was so glad to get rid of everything so close to Christmas, that he threw in an old mannequin and Santa costume that had been cluttering up his store room. Dad brought it home and built his whole display around it. [Pause--smiles at the memory of it.]
We didn't have a big brick chimney like you see in books and movies, so instead of that, he put Santa on the roof of the porch, peering into the window of my parents' bedroom. Around all of the windows, he put red lights. Green lights around the edge of the roof. And combinations of the two all criss-crossed up and down and in all of the bushes and trees...It was beautiful.
I remember it was really cold that year, so he did all this with these great big boots and gloves...a huge coat that he had just bought with the money from his raise, and I couldn't imagine how, with all those heavy clothes on, he could climb up that ladder and hang all those lights, but he did. He hung all of them, and in between each string of lights, he would come down the ladder, pick me up off the ground, spin me around, and sit me up on his shoulders to get a better look.
It took almost a week to finish it, to get it just the way he wanted it, but when he finally lit it all up, the whole town came out to see it. Everyone! Cars driving around the block over and over again just to look at our house. I was so happy. I was sure that this was going to be the best Christmas in the history of Christmases; living in this...cocoon of colour and light, with the rest of the world lining up outside to admire it.
On Christmas Eve, dad went downtown to this bar that he used to hang out in. He liked to spend Christmas Eve with his buddies, because, on Christmas, all the aunts and uncles would be over, and I guess being hung-over gave him an excuse not to be a good host.
[Small pause.] So, anyway, by the time he got home, it was way past midnight, mom and I were in bed, and mom had turned out all the Christmas lights for the night--she couldn't sleep when they were on, because they would shine in through her window--so the only light was from the street light at the end of the block, and, I guess, in the darkness, after drinking all night, dad forgot about the Santa mannequin...mistook it for a burglar or something because I woke up to hear shouting out on the lawn...gunshots...breaking glass.
I ran into Mom and Dad's room, because I didn't know what was happening, but mom and dad weren't in bed. And it was cold, like someone had left the window open, so I looked...and there was my mother, just lying there on the floor, in the middle of all this shattered glass and blood. She must have been standing at the window when...
[Pause--Bob is frozen. Daphne stands staring into space--reliving the story as she tells it]
...and I just stood there....I couldn't move. I couldn't say anything. I was still half asleep. It was like a dream. But then I heard the front door open, and footsteps running up the stairs. I was terrified. I thought that whoever had been shouting out on the lawn must be coming to get me now, and I couldn't hide. There was no place to hide. And the only thing I could think of to do was lay down beside my mother and play dead. I thought whoever it was wouldn't hurt me if they thought I was already dead. So, when dad got to the door of the bedroom, he saw me and my mother and all that blood, and...he said...something...it didn't register at first, I was so scared, and concentrating so hard on not moving...and then he stumbled backwards out of the room, and I heard him crying and saying, "no, no, no,"...over and over again..."no, no..."
[Pause.] And I recognized his voice. I realized it was dad. But before I could say anything there was another gunshot.
[Pause.] And then he wasn't crying anymore.
[Pause.]
[BOB: God...]
[Pause] I guess he didnt have time to leave a funny note like your dad.
Anyway.. im looking for another bit i can adapt to put at the beginning, im thinking something on the lines of a mental institution, any ideas? email me
stufforsassy@hotmail.com
Any opinions, pointers, critcism welcome. Id be willing to do the same for anyone else.
Thanx
[Bob and Daphne are in the nursery area of a city hospital. The audience is where the babies would be; the actors are on the other side of the 'glass'. Bob tells Daphne that his father had just shot himself and that Bob was the one who found him and brought him to the hospital. After Daphne has expressed her sympathies and is about to leave, Bob reveals that he was only joking. This is the 'last straw' in a conversation that has been, to say the least, disconcerting for Daphne]
[BOB: [Still laughing.] Look, I'm sorry. [She turns away] I'm sorry! I couldn't resist. It was a joke.]
DAPHNE: How could you say something like that? About your father?
[BOB: It was a joke! What? What's the big deal? You never told a joke about you father? Come on.]
[She turns to face him]
DAPHNE: You want to hear a joke about my father? One night, when I was twelve years old, my father decided to decorate the house for Christmas. He'd never done it before, but this year he had just gotten a raise at work, and I guess he wanted to show off to the rest of the neighbourhood. So about a week before Christmas, dad went out and bought up all of the lights and decorations he could find. It had all been pretty much picked over by then, there wasn't much left, but he still got a lot. One store owner was so glad to get rid of everything so close to Christmas, that he threw in an old mannequin and Santa costume that had been cluttering up his store room. Dad brought it home and built his whole display around it. [Pause--smiles at the memory of it.]
We didn't have a big brick chimney like you see in books and movies, so instead of that, he put Santa on the roof of the porch, peering into the window of my parents' bedroom. Around all of the windows, he put red lights. Green lights around the edge of the roof. And combinations of the two all criss-crossed up and down and in all of the bushes and trees...It was beautiful.
I remember it was really cold that year, so he did all this with these great big boots and gloves...a huge coat that he had just bought with the money from his raise, and I couldn't imagine how, with all those heavy clothes on, he could climb up that ladder and hang all those lights, but he did. He hung all of them, and in between each string of lights, he would come down the ladder, pick me up off the ground, spin me around, and sit me up on his shoulders to get a better look.
It took almost a week to finish it, to get it just the way he wanted it, but when he finally lit it all up, the whole town came out to see it. Everyone! Cars driving around the block over and over again just to look at our house. I was so happy. I was sure that this was going to be the best Christmas in the history of Christmases; living in this...cocoon of colour and light, with the rest of the world lining up outside to admire it.
On Christmas Eve, dad went downtown to this bar that he used to hang out in. He liked to spend Christmas Eve with his buddies, because, on Christmas, all the aunts and uncles would be over, and I guess being hung-over gave him an excuse not to be a good host.
[Small pause.] So, anyway, by the time he got home, it was way past midnight, mom and I were in bed, and mom had turned out all the Christmas lights for the night--she couldn't sleep when they were on, because they would shine in through her window--so the only light was from the street light at the end of the block, and, I guess, in the darkness, after drinking all night, dad forgot about the Santa mannequin...mistook it for a burglar or something because I woke up to hear shouting out on the lawn...gunshots...breaking glass.
I ran into Mom and Dad's room, because I didn't know what was happening, but mom and dad weren't in bed. And it was cold, like someone had left the window open, so I looked...and there was my mother, just lying there on the floor, in the middle of all this shattered glass and blood. She must have been standing at the window when...
[Pause--Bob is frozen. Daphne stands staring into space--reliving the story as she tells it]
...and I just stood there....I couldn't move. I couldn't say anything. I was still half asleep. It was like a dream. But then I heard the front door open, and footsteps running up the stairs. I was terrified. I thought that whoever had been shouting out on the lawn must be coming to get me now, and I couldn't hide. There was no place to hide. And the only thing I could think of to do was lay down beside my mother and play dead. I thought whoever it was wouldn't hurt me if they thought I was already dead. So, when dad got to the door of the bedroom, he saw me and my mother and all that blood, and...he said...something...it didn't register at first, I was so scared, and concentrating so hard on not moving...and then he stumbled backwards out of the room, and I heard him crying and saying, "no, no, no,"...over and over again..."no, no..."
[Pause.] And I recognized his voice. I realized it was dad. But before I could say anything there was another gunshot.
[Pause.] And then he wasn't crying anymore.
[Pause.]
[BOB: God...]
[Pause] I guess he didnt have time to leave a funny note like your dad.
