WeAreSuperhero
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Right! Hi! Since its the summer holidays I've decided to get back into script writing. I thought I'd post up the stuff I've done so far and as I write more I can add it on. Any criticism, constructive or otherwise, is much appreciated, as is blind praise, adulation, and panties through the mail. Enough of this riff-raff, lets get down to the copy/ pasting!
This first script was written and performed for a talent show - hence the short length and undeveloped characters. However, considering the restraints, it turned out bloody well in my opinion. Its just such a shame I messed up the direction and acting for the bloody thing...
More to come soon!
This first script was written and performed for a talent show - hence the short length and undeveloped characters. However, considering the restraints, it turned out bloody well in my opinion. Its just such a shame I messed up the direction and acting for the bloody thing...
The scene opens with Henry and Jack standing over the body of the late Mrs Miggins. There is a knife sticking out of her chest and blood covers the floor. Chairs are arranged to the left hand side of the stage.
Henry: Well, Jack, whaddya think?
Jack: This looks like murder to me.
Henry: Murder, you say? You don’t think she could have, possibly, slipped, and dropped the knife?
Jack: Right into her chest?
Henry: Why not?
Jack: Alright, leaving that, how did she slip?
Henry: Well, there’s blood all over the floor!
Jack: But that’s because it… it came out of her!
Henry: Hmph. A likely story. I think we have this case solved! Come, Jack!
Jack: Henry, come back here. We need to investigate this properly. What evidence do you have to support your claim?
Henry: I’m missing The Simpsons.
Jack: C’mon, we need to get the suspects in.
Henry: Damn!
One by one the suspect’s troop in as Jack describes them.
Jack: First of all, we have the chef – Vielleneuve! He is a French stereotype, and the classic ‘angry’ character in these sorts of things. However, he doesn’t like this stereotype and goes to great lengths to avoid it.
Vielleneuve: I just want you to know, I love crumpets.
The Baron walks in carrying a bag full of kippers, wearing a tie.
Jack: Next, we have Baron Ivana Bevil. He is the owner of the house. However, we have all but discontinued him from suspicion because he is so over the top. He is clearly a clever ruse planted by the writer to make the audience think he is the villain.
Henry: But what if the writer thought of this in advance and planted him as the actual villain, but making sure nobody thought he was because of how over the top he was?
Jack: That’s just too complicated; nobody would have the audacity to pull off something like that.
Henry: Nobody except Alex Isaacs, the brilliant playwright, billionaire and sex symbol.
Jack: Oh! Of course, I had forgotten! But you must realise that this much worse written than his stuff.
Henry: I suppose.
The Baron: I have a monocle, don’t you know.
Henry: Where?
The Baron: It’s called acting, pretend! Why do you think I’ve got this horrendous squint?
Jack: Anyway. Next we have Lady Bevil. She is the wife of the Baron, and is unfortunately a haemophiliac.
Henry: Just for the benefit of the audience, because obviously I know what a haemowhassit is, erm, what is it?
Jack: It means her blood cannot clot. If she got, for instance, a paper cut, she would die eventually as she would simply continue to bleed unless she was administered a plaster.
Henry: Ah.
Jack: She also detests doing work. If it weren’t for the dire state of their finances she would quite happily have someone carry her into the room.
The Lady: I take offence to that!
Maggie: True though it is.
Jack: Maggie Bevil. Like Paris Hilton but poorer. She spends most of her time at parties. She phoned the police upon discovering the body.
Maggie: Damn right I did. I have to do anything I can to help put a stop to my parent’s evil ways!
Henry: Shut up, you silly girl, no-one believes that pretentious stuff.
Maggie: Fine, I just want that damned corpse out of my living room – it’s starting to stink up the place.
Jack: There’s still another suspect. The dust bin man. I’m not sure why he’s here. I mean, he’s a dust bin man. He’s probably really stupid. I don’t think he could pull off a murder.
Archibald: Hey, wait a minute, I could do a murder if I wanted!
Jack: Yeah, whatever man. Anyway, down to business.
Henry [To Jack]: We can both agree that the Baron is far too likely to be considered a villain, yes?
Jack: Of course.
Henry: Well in that case I suggest we should hammer down on Vielleneuve.
Jack: Why?
Henry: He’s French. He smells! He looks… murderous! Why else?
Jack: There’s no evidence!
Henry: Listen – I’ve been in this business twenty years, and I think I know a murderer when I see one. [To Vielleneuve] Where were you last night?
Vielleneuve: I’m not the murderer, I tell you!
Henry: What evidence do you have of THAT?
Vielleneuve: Well, for one thing, I have the script!
He pulls it out, skips a couple of pages
Vielleneuve: My god! The murderer is… the murderer is…!
The lights go out and there is a strangled muffled scream. When they come up again the Barons bag of kippers is empty and the chef has a kipper in his mouth. He is dead
Henry: Dear lord, this man is dead! I think we can all safely assume however, that he committed suicide.
Archibald: Baron, where has your bag of kippers gone?
The Baron: I ate them.
Archibald: When the lights were out?
The Baron: When else?
Jack has picked up the script. Henry and the Baron both see this and they both jump at it. The Baron grabs the last few pages and eats it, but Henry has the rest.
Jack: Do you know what we’re going to say?
Henry: Of course
Jack: What am I about to say then?
Henry: That’s amazing.
Jack: That’s amazing!
Maggie + Henry: I don’t believe in that. I believe we all have free will, to do whatever we want. I think I don’t have to follow your stupid script! I can do whatever I will!
The Baron: Maggie, make yourself useful and take this gasoline to the furnace – you must make sure to burn it so nobody can get hurt by it.
Maggie takes it. There is an explosion offstage
The Baron: Dear lord! What happened there?
Jack: You told her to put the gasoline in the furnace!
The Baron: Did I? Gosh. I did mean to say freezer!
Archibald: Oh, for the love of god! This is all so simple! I can believe that you ‘detectives’ cannot work out this simple murder plot! It’s quite obvious the murderer is-
The lights go out again. When they come on again Archibald is dead, clearly strangled by the Barons tie. The Baron is on the other side of the room, twiddling his thumbs. He ‘notices’ the murder and goes across to retrieve his tie.
The Baron: Whoops! How did my tie get there?
The wife, meanwhile, has picked up the script. She reads ahead, and is shocked, before dropping the paper, which gives her a paper cut.
The Lady: Argh! Blood! I can’t stand the sight of it! I need a plaster, quick! But where are they? That blasted maid always got them for me! Damn you, you stupid tart, always flirting with my husband! I’m glad he killed you!
She falls over, deceased
The Baron: Damn! You may know my real identity – the identikit killer – but you’ll never take me alive!
Jack: Do we?
Henry: Hush, we might be able to take credit for it.
The lights go off again. When they come back on, the baron appears to be trying to eat his own leg.
Henry: My god, he’s dead!
Jack: What? No, he can’t be, he’s just eating his own leg.
Henry: It appears he’s drowned… in his own leg.
Jack: What? No, he couldn’t have – that’s stupid!
Henry: Well, there clearly is only one course of action we can now take.
He grabs Miggins’ knife and goes to stab himself.
Jack: Dear god, what are you doing?
Henry: All the cool kids are doing it, Jack, c’mon!
Jack: What?!
Henry: I don’t want to be the loner on the playground! I’m going to play football with the other boys! You play with your yoyo alone!
And he stabs himself. As he falls he says
Henry: All the chicks’ll dig me now!
Jack is looking distraught when Mrs Miggins gets up and brushes herself off.
Miggins: Crikey blimey, apples and pears, what a mess!
Jack: What? No, you’re dead!
Miggins: No, dearie, just sleeping.
Jack: Why were you on the floor there?
Miggins: I was sleepy!
Jack: Why not kip in bed? Why there?
Miggins: I slipped!
Jack: On what?
Miggins: The blood!
Jack: And what about the gaping wound in your chest?
Miggins: It’s just a flesh wound!
Jack: Think of an original excuse next time, you irritating cockney washerwoman!
Miggins: Listen, I’m alive, allright?
Jack: Then why was the Baron trying to cover up killing you by killing lots of other people?
Miggins: Erm…
Jack: Think about it! Your entire current existence is a paradox! You’re impossible, like a decent Disney channel film, or the new Guns and Roses album ever coming out! You’re like a black hole, an enigma!
Miggins: I’m just a washerwoman!
Jack: You’re dead! Lie down and do it properly you stupid old bat!
Miggins: Well, since you put it that way…
Miggins dies
Jack: Hm. I’m alone, surrounded by dead people. Normally I would assume that I am the only survivor of a grisly murder. But that’s not how a policing mind works! I have to consider every possibility! I could, for instance, be a serial killer… but with amnesia… my god, that fits!
He goes over to the knife, picks it up, fondles it.
Jack: My god, my prints are all over this thing! I’m a murderer! There’s only one thing for it!
He shivs himself
The Baron: [getting up] Thank god, he finally sorted it out and killed himself. I thought he would never get around to it! Honestly, and to think he believed me. Drowning in your own leg. That’s stupid!
He walks off, laughing.
Henry: Well, Jack, whaddya think?
Jack: This looks like murder to me.
Henry: Murder, you say? You don’t think she could have, possibly, slipped, and dropped the knife?
Jack: Right into her chest?
Henry: Why not?
Jack: Alright, leaving that, how did she slip?
Henry: Well, there’s blood all over the floor!
Jack: But that’s because it… it came out of her!
Henry: Hmph. A likely story. I think we have this case solved! Come, Jack!
Jack: Henry, come back here. We need to investigate this properly. What evidence do you have to support your claim?
Henry: I’m missing The Simpsons.
Jack: C’mon, we need to get the suspects in.
Henry: Damn!
One by one the suspect’s troop in as Jack describes them.
Jack: First of all, we have the chef – Vielleneuve! He is a French stereotype, and the classic ‘angry’ character in these sorts of things. However, he doesn’t like this stereotype and goes to great lengths to avoid it.
Vielleneuve: I just want you to know, I love crumpets.
The Baron walks in carrying a bag full of kippers, wearing a tie.
Jack: Next, we have Baron Ivana Bevil. He is the owner of the house. However, we have all but discontinued him from suspicion because he is so over the top. He is clearly a clever ruse planted by the writer to make the audience think he is the villain.
Henry: But what if the writer thought of this in advance and planted him as the actual villain, but making sure nobody thought he was because of how over the top he was?
Jack: That’s just too complicated; nobody would have the audacity to pull off something like that.
Henry: Nobody except Alex Isaacs, the brilliant playwright, billionaire and sex symbol.
Jack: Oh! Of course, I had forgotten! But you must realise that this much worse written than his stuff.
Henry: I suppose.
The Baron: I have a monocle, don’t you know.
Henry: Where?
The Baron: It’s called acting, pretend! Why do you think I’ve got this horrendous squint?
Jack: Anyway. Next we have Lady Bevil. She is the wife of the Baron, and is unfortunately a haemophiliac.
Henry: Just for the benefit of the audience, because obviously I know what a haemowhassit is, erm, what is it?
Jack: It means her blood cannot clot. If she got, for instance, a paper cut, she would die eventually as she would simply continue to bleed unless she was administered a plaster.
Henry: Ah.
Jack: She also detests doing work. If it weren’t for the dire state of their finances she would quite happily have someone carry her into the room.
The Lady: I take offence to that!
Maggie: True though it is.
Jack: Maggie Bevil. Like Paris Hilton but poorer. She spends most of her time at parties. She phoned the police upon discovering the body.
Maggie: Damn right I did. I have to do anything I can to help put a stop to my parent’s evil ways!
Henry: Shut up, you silly girl, no-one believes that pretentious stuff.
Maggie: Fine, I just want that damned corpse out of my living room – it’s starting to stink up the place.
Jack: There’s still another suspect. The dust bin man. I’m not sure why he’s here. I mean, he’s a dust bin man. He’s probably really stupid. I don’t think he could pull off a murder.
Archibald: Hey, wait a minute, I could do a murder if I wanted!
Jack: Yeah, whatever man. Anyway, down to business.
Henry [To Jack]: We can both agree that the Baron is far too likely to be considered a villain, yes?
Jack: Of course.
Henry: Well in that case I suggest we should hammer down on Vielleneuve.
Jack: Why?
Henry: He’s French. He smells! He looks… murderous! Why else?
Jack: There’s no evidence!
Henry: Listen – I’ve been in this business twenty years, and I think I know a murderer when I see one. [To Vielleneuve] Where were you last night?
Vielleneuve: I’m not the murderer, I tell you!
Henry: What evidence do you have of THAT?
Vielleneuve: Well, for one thing, I have the script!
He pulls it out, skips a couple of pages
Vielleneuve: My god! The murderer is… the murderer is…!
The lights go out and there is a strangled muffled scream. When they come up again the Barons bag of kippers is empty and the chef has a kipper in his mouth. He is dead
Henry: Dear lord, this man is dead! I think we can all safely assume however, that he committed suicide.
Archibald: Baron, where has your bag of kippers gone?
The Baron: I ate them.
Archibald: When the lights were out?
The Baron: When else?
Jack has picked up the script. Henry and the Baron both see this and they both jump at it. The Baron grabs the last few pages and eats it, but Henry has the rest.
Jack: Do you know what we’re going to say?
Henry: Of course
Jack: What am I about to say then?
Henry: That’s amazing.
Jack: That’s amazing!
Maggie + Henry: I don’t believe in that. I believe we all have free will, to do whatever we want. I think I don’t have to follow your stupid script! I can do whatever I will!
The Baron: Maggie, make yourself useful and take this gasoline to the furnace – you must make sure to burn it so nobody can get hurt by it.
Maggie takes it. There is an explosion offstage
The Baron: Dear lord! What happened there?
Jack: You told her to put the gasoline in the furnace!
The Baron: Did I? Gosh. I did mean to say freezer!
Archibald: Oh, for the love of god! This is all so simple! I can believe that you ‘detectives’ cannot work out this simple murder plot! It’s quite obvious the murderer is-
The lights go out again. When they come on again Archibald is dead, clearly strangled by the Barons tie. The Baron is on the other side of the room, twiddling his thumbs. He ‘notices’ the murder and goes across to retrieve his tie.
The Baron: Whoops! How did my tie get there?
The wife, meanwhile, has picked up the script. She reads ahead, and is shocked, before dropping the paper, which gives her a paper cut.
The Lady: Argh! Blood! I can’t stand the sight of it! I need a plaster, quick! But where are they? That blasted maid always got them for me! Damn you, you stupid tart, always flirting with my husband! I’m glad he killed you!
She falls over, deceased
The Baron: Damn! You may know my real identity – the identikit killer – but you’ll never take me alive!
Jack: Do we?
Henry: Hush, we might be able to take credit for it.
The lights go off again. When they come back on, the baron appears to be trying to eat his own leg.
Henry: My god, he’s dead!
Jack: What? No, he can’t be, he’s just eating his own leg.
Henry: It appears he’s drowned… in his own leg.
Jack: What? No, he couldn’t have – that’s stupid!
Henry: Well, there clearly is only one course of action we can now take.
He grabs Miggins’ knife and goes to stab himself.
Jack: Dear god, what are you doing?
Henry: All the cool kids are doing it, Jack, c’mon!
Jack: What?!
Henry: I don’t want to be the loner on the playground! I’m going to play football with the other boys! You play with your yoyo alone!
And he stabs himself. As he falls he says
Henry: All the chicks’ll dig me now!
Jack is looking distraught when Mrs Miggins gets up and brushes herself off.
Miggins: Crikey blimey, apples and pears, what a mess!
Jack: What? No, you’re dead!
Miggins: No, dearie, just sleeping.
Jack: Why were you on the floor there?
Miggins: I was sleepy!
Jack: Why not kip in bed? Why there?
Miggins: I slipped!
Jack: On what?
Miggins: The blood!
Jack: And what about the gaping wound in your chest?
Miggins: It’s just a flesh wound!
Jack: Think of an original excuse next time, you irritating cockney washerwoman!
Miggins: Listen, I’m alive, allright?
Jack: Then why was the Baron trying to cover up killing you by killing lots of other people?
Miggins: Erm…
Jack: Think about it! Your entire current existence is a paradox! You’re impossible, like a decent Disney channel film, or the new Guns and Roses album ever coming out! You’re like a black hole, an enigma!
Miggins: I’m just a washerwoman!
Jack: You’re dead! Lie down and do it properly you stupid old bat!
Miggins: Well, since you put it that way…
Miggins dies
Jack: Hm. I’m alone, surrounded by dead people. Normally I would assume that I am the only survivor of a grisly murder. But that’s not how a policing mind works! I have to consider every possibility! I could, for instance, be a serial killer… but with amnesia… my god, that fits!
He goes over to the knife, picks it up, fondles it.
Jack: My god, my prints are all over this thing! I’m a murderer! There’s only one thing for it!
He shivs himself
The Baron: [getting up] Thank god, he finally sorted it out and killed himself. I thought he would never get around to it! Honestly, and to think he believed me. Drowning in your own leg. That’s stupid!
He walks off, laughing.
More to come soon!
