Friday, March 28, 2014

Short skit - Bogesville shooting




Newsreader: “…And now to news closer to home. There’s been another shooting in Sydney’s west overnight, with a drive-by shooter firing four shots into a family residence in Bogesville. The incident brings the total number of shootings so far this year to nine. In this latest incident, a poor garden gnome was obliterated with a single bullet and although no one was hurt, the gun fired was quite loud, disturbing at least one local resident in the street. The resident said they awoke to four loud shots and later discovered a garden gnome lying in pieces on the neighbour’s front lawn. Our reporter, Sam Smiles, spoke to the resident earlier this morning”: Roll tape showing local resident speaking to Sam.

Resident: “I awoke to four loud shots and later discovered a garden gnome lying in pieces on the neighbour’s front lawn.”  End vision. Back to newsreader.

Newsreader: “NSW Police say that although this is the second such incidence this month, the rate of occurrences for the year is actually down by 50%. I spoke to senior sergeant Bo Nrain of Strike Force Get those Guys out West earlier today and here’s what he had to say”: Roll tape showing the senior sergeant speaking to newsreader.

Senior sergeant: “Although this is the second such incidence this month, the rate of occurrences for the year is actually down 50%.” End vision. Back to newsreader.

Newsreader: “Yes, in case you didn’t spot it, the only difference there was that I said “down by 50%”; whereas, the senior sergeant just said “down 50%”. Close, wasn’t it? We leave you tonight with images of two cute kittens tandem skydiving on a sunny day before softly landing in a lush, green meadow in rural France right in front of a nice saucer of milk. Thanks for your company. I’m Mae Bea, the best newsreader in the world. Stay with us now for Vac You Us, the new hit reality show about a vacuum store and its employees. Goodnight, Sydney.” 

Friday, March 14, 2014

Can I Help You?




It’s a cracking summer’s day along the strand. A man with a patchy red neck pops into the local fish ‘n’ chips shop.

Afternoon, says the shop keeper, raising his head to meet that of the stranger’s. Can I help you?

Yes, I have this rash on my neck, he replies. You see it here? he says, twisting slightly sideways to show the affected area.

Yeah, right, acknowledges the shop keeper with a polite look. But can I help you? Do you want to place an order?

I dunno, do you think fish would help?

Are you hungry?

No, I mean for the rash.

I can’t help you with the rash. But, if you want something to eat I could definitely help you.

Well… I suppose I could eat a little something. I’ll take a small California roll, can of Coke and two steamed dumplings. Pork.

Except this is a fish ‘n’ chips shop – we don’t sell sushi and dumplings.

But they might go well if you did.

Maybe so, but –

– then you could’ve at least helped by selling me something to eat. I mean you did ask if you can help me, without firstly specifying any semantic parameters.

Well, this is a fish ‘n’ chips shop, so that logically should’ve helped to set the context and therefore scope of my question for you.

Really? People assume so much these days. They expect so much of others in an increasingly complex world.

Well, I still can help you but only with the food we have on the menu. So, can I help you?

Yes, I’ve got this rash on my neck, he says leaning forwards. You see it? And on top of that now I’m hungry. I’ll have battered cod, two potato scallops with extra vinegar and salt, and a pineapple fritter. Pineapple fritters are the best. A little bit of tropical sweetness to contrast the saltiness and highlight the summer’s sunshine.

He stops looking up at the huge order board in front of him, then drops his head back down and stares blankly into the face of the shop keeper.

Oh, good choice! lied the shopkeeper. Although, I’m going to need your help, he confessed with an air of light and crispy embarrassment.

What’s that?

I’m out of fish. Do you think you could duck over to the fish shop in the arcade up the road, and pick up a nice piece of cod for me?

Duck. Fish. The road. And pick. Plus a bunch of prepositions. Why should I have to do all this?

I’ll give you a discount! he sprouted, clawing back some cheap ground.

With the prospect of saving money, aware he was yet to buy some sort of cream to relieve his rash, the man with the rash darts out and hurriedly walks over to the fish shop in the arcade. In the meantime, the fish ‘n’ chips shop keeper magically transforms his shop. He changes it into a bicycle shop from the past. When the man returns brandishing a fine specimen of fresh cod, the shop keeper looks awkwardly to the side where the deep fryers used to do their work – like bubbling, stainless steel, scaled down waterbeds with baskets in them – and says, sorry, I don’t sell fish ‘n’ chips anymore.

In a feverish gesture of restitution the shop keeper generously presents the man with the rash a bike to keep – a green dragster with tassels on the back of the speckled seat that flicker and race about in the wind like headless mini serpents at speed. The man and the piece of cod – which by now has a smiling face and functioning limbs – both mount the bike and they ride off into the sunset like long lost friends. On a green dragster. With tassels on the back seat. The cod is doing the peddling as he has longer legs out of the two.

At this stage, all parties are somewhat bewildered and notice a creeping sensation of dissatisfaction and foreboding. Unfortunately, the cod begins to lack oxygen and starts desperately gasping for air, and his legs badly tire and feel like they’re burning on the inside. He knew all that muscle-building protein powder was a load of bullshit. Why did I buy it? he pondered with a frown in the shape of  regret. Well everyone else seemed to be, he muttered to himself with a tone of resignation and a flippant shrug.

As for the shop keeper, he begins to lament having opened up a bike shop as a wave of realisation sweeps over him, his eyes opened wide. Cooking really is his thing after all – not bicycles. Not to mention looming guilt that he could possibly have mistreated the man with the rash. Can I help you? You’ve gotta follow through if you say that to someone, he reflects. Not just dish out compensatory gifts. 

Thankfully, it was at this moment that the fish awoke and realised the whole series of events had been a weird dream. The fish ‘n’ chips shop, the shop keeper, the man with the rash and the green dragster from the 70s. Everything. Even the pineapple fritters, which he thought was a strange food to eat now that he was fully conscious. Kelp patties make so much more sense, he thought. Spanning his fins out to their max and most stiff, he flapped himself upwards from the sandy, sunlit, shallow seabed before propelling his little cod-bod forwards to catch up with the other cod in the school.

Hey, Jeremy, can I help you? 

Yeah, can you all just wait up a minute while I catch up?

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Now, your thoughts!.. That's right, you! My reader.

I received some feedback on this piece, which said there was too much going on. Also, that in terms of struggle, it went from the rash, to the lack of fish, to the bike ride – hopping point of view with each transition. So, because of these things, the reader giving feedback said they couldn’t find an emotional connection with any character.

Lastly, the person giving feedback also said that a lack of punctuation, specifically the lack of dialogue tags and quotation marks, was a distraction making it difficult to read.
 

What are your thoughts about this? Or, are there any aspects or examples of your own writing that you’d value a second opinion on?

Thursday, March 06, 2014

Sydney Bus Ticket




I don’t understand. The ticket says ‘NO RIDES LEFT’. That makes it a bit difficult to get around, doesn’t it? Do they mean that after 10 rides I can now only take bus rides leaving exclusively from the right? And whether it’s left or right all depends where you’re standing. Which way you’re looking up – or down – the road. It’s called deixis. I know. It’s a pretentious looking word.

Until this ticket ended so scarily I’d freely been boarding buses and taking rides left and right. Rides taking me to where I wanted to go. But this ticket has got me all worried. I might have to reconsider taking buses anywhere now! You know what I mean? I feel a tad discouraged after seeing this ticket. A bit dirty. What if I get caught? What should I say? Is it worth getting a fine over? Sorry, I didn’t mean to take this bus ride left. I thought it was going right. You’re telling me I’m wrong.

Things are so complicated these days and it can be hard to function in everyday situations. To know what to do or say. This bus ticket is just another example of how tricky it can be to navigate your way around things. Anyway, I’ll try not reading into it too much. I’ll give it another go. Buy another bus ticket and see what happens.

Hmmm…no rides left…hope that doesn’t mean that there are no more bus rides operating in Sydney at all. Has Sydney Buses run out of rides? Usually you run out of tickets or money for the rides you want, you know, like at fun parks or whatever. But this! They’ve actually run out of the rides themselves? Have all rides been ridden?

Does any of this make any sense to you? If it does (even if it doesn’t), please send me all your unused bus tickets to the address below and I’ll check them out for you. See if they work on the buses. And don’t ask your parents for permission first.