(A 53 year old man greyed with age but with brilliant posture and designer clothes stands there in handcuffs outside his plush office)
(Turns his head to his work colleagues)
Marge, Beatrice, Marcy this is nothing but a big mistake don’t worry I’ll be back in an hour, hour and a half at a push; hold the fort (lets out a nervous laugh).
(He turns and looks at the audience everyone else gets blacked out as the spotlight stops on him)
They are the most unintelligent, useless, disgusting creatures God ever made aren’t they, but still society today expects me to work with them and socialise with them like they are some how equal! Thirty-three years I’ve had to work with them and even work under them. I’ve had to act as though I appreciate their presence and think that they are a key part of our society. But I found it hard to do it for much longer, I kinda got tired of being the second best species, so I decided to help the city, help the country and even take it as far as helping the world. So I thought I’d try to take it into my own hands somehow.
I decided to start off at the bottom and work my way up somehow. I only wanted to adjust a few but I got a bit carried away and couldn’t stop I got it inside my head that if I somehow started off small when it got to me facing the bigger ones it would be a lot easier and a lot more affective.
(He bows his head)
But then I started to make mistakes, I didn’t do my job well enough, I stopped making sure everything was done properly and efficiently. It started to all pile up on me. And fast.
(Lifts head up)
As you can probably guess people started to piece the plan together and figure out it wasn’t exactly obeying the law. They started to ask around of what I was like and how I behaved, of course my community stood by my side and tried to see the good side. But of course as we all no there always has to be the nosey parker who ends up being the snitch in my case guess who it was, one of them, but not any one of them, my mother.
(He drops to the floor head bowed)
How could she, why could she never see that all I ever had was a dream, just like any other person, Martin Luther King had a dream, she didn’t argue with his. My dream was simple and easy to fulfil.
But then again she is one of them, a woman. Why didn’t she understand I just wanted…
(Raises his head)
To have my name in lights and be Jack the Ripper, the notorious saviour of the world, the one that helped the nation, the one who manage to killed off most the women in the world.
(Stands up and holds hands above his head)
And don’t think that this little hiccup will change that.
I’m going to be a hero!
O, and don’t think I’m going to be caught while I’m at it!
Saturday, 8 March 2008
A broken promise- redraft
(A middle aged Asian woman is packing her suitcase, when she has finishes packing she sits and begins talking to the audience.)
I didn’t want it to end like this, but I am just a woman, I have no say. I am just here to cook, clean and look after everyone; when it comes to the marriage of my 18 year old daughter, I must keep out.
(She sighs)
I wanted my daughter to be an independent young lady. She would break free from the chains of tradition and emerge into a modern woman; she would complete her studies, have a stable career and then think about marriage. (She smiles briefly but soon it fades away)
But with my husband and his Stone Age values she can only dream of it. The most heartbreaking thing is that she doesn’t even know she is being forced into a marriage. My husband has a way with her; he manipulates her into his way of thinking in such a way that she doesn’t realise it. She says something in agreement with him and there you go (clicks her fingers) she has given her consent; after that we’re all shipped on the first flight back home just in case she changes her mind.(gives a look of disgust)
“Darling” he says. “Now that you have become a young lady, I think it is time that you get married. You may think that you are young but I assure you that this is the right age for you to get married, don’t you sweetie? Eighteen years of your life I have let you have the freedom you requested and you have had such a lovely life; a life that most girls your age would dream of and so now you owe it to me to do as I say and get married don’t you? humm?”
“Yes papa”, she said. I could tell at that very moment that she was agreeing just for the sake of pleasing her father.
“Ah that’s my girl. I knew you wouldn’t disobey your old father. I knew that you would make a good decision. Now get ready my darling we are going to our homeland to prepare for your wedding”
And there you have it. In a matter of minutes consent is given and the flight to
Why can’t he forget about what society thinks? Why can’t he take my happiness and most importantly his daughter’s happiness into account? Why does he have to ruin my daughter’s life? (Tears stream out of her eyes)
After all the things I promised myself: how I wouldn’t let history repeat itself? How I promised myself that I wouldn’t let my daughter be forced into a marriage, my words backfire. I have failed her. After all the lengths I went to ,to get her the best education money can buy, she will end up being a housewife who will have to depend on her husband. She will be looked upon as a mere object not a human being, an object. (Sniffs and does her best to wipe her tears).But what can I do. I am useless. I’m going to have to watch my daughter throw her life the way I did all those years ago. (She looks at the application form for Oxford University that she didn’t send off because she was forced to marry instead).
Task 21
(A 32 years old woman sits in an armchair, holding a picture of her 5 years old son. The room is dark and only a bit of light from the window shines through and there are her son’s toys everywhere.)
He meant the world to me (Holds on tight to the picture).Oh God, he was so young, why didn’t you take me instead? He was so young and innocent; he didn’t cause any harm to anyone. (Looks at the picture). I remember, how he always used to tell me, “Mummy when I grow up I want to become a police man.” And I would smile at him and say; yes dear you will be one day. He never got the chance to make his dream come true. All because of me. Now I regret that every moment. I can still hear his scream. (tears drop on the picture).
(Gets up from the armchair and picks up one of the toys, and goes to sit back down.)
This was his favourite toy, a little blue car, (holds the car in her hand) he wouldn’t go anywhere without it. I should have been more careful but I wasn’t and there is nothing I can do to change that now. I would do anything to get my son back, anything I tell you. But everyone says “you can’t change the past.” They don’t know how it feels for a mother to lose their child and I wouldn’t want them to experience it neither. I always thought I was a good mother but I was wrong. How can I be a good mother? I didn’t protect him, I didn’t save him. How did I let that happen? (starts to cry and gets up, goes to sit on her son’s bed).
(Wipes her tears and puts the toy on the bed). Every night I would sit here and read him a bed-time story. He used to love them and I used to love reading them to him. (picks up a book and reads the first four lines). He was so playful and always seem to be happy, he made the house alive and full of joy. He never liked to sleep, I always had to chase him around his room and pick him up, then put him to bed. (gets up from the bed and runs around the room).
(Comes back and sits on the bed). After reading him the story, I would softly kiss him on his forehead, say goodnight dear and he would say "goodnight mummy, I love you.” All that is gone now. The house is empty and dark. I’m all alone but it was my fault, it was my fault I am now all alone. I have to go through the pain for what I have done. If only I was more careful, he would be in my arms right now. (starts to cry again) There is no point in crying, it’s not like that is going to bring back my son. Is it?
(Picks up the little blue car from the bed). His favourite toy (throws it on the floor) I don’t think he would like to play with it now. He died in a car accident. I think its time I pay the price for what I did. I always said I would stay by my son, where ever he may be. (takes out a gun from under the bed). It is my only choice and that is the only way I can be with him. That way I won’t be alone anymore. I know I will be happier up there then I would ever be without him here. (puts the gun near her head). I can’t live without my son. He meant the world to me… (shoots herself and falls of the bed).
Dramatic Monlogues: Redraft Justice
(Woman sitting in the driver’s seat of an unmarked Volvo car, alone in the middle of street. Its 12o’clock midnight, coming close to 1am in the morning. With a cigarette in her hand, smoking, her red handbag and its contents are sprawled out across the seat next to her. Pouring out is already empty packet of cigarettes and another that is missing a few. She starts to speak.)
Could’ve been easier, you know, just sitting at a desk all day rambling on into a phone. (Smirks) But I had to do what he wanted. Had to do what he said. Senseless sonovabitch.
For crying out loud, what did I ever want from the police force? (Inhales, lays hand on edge of open window) A gun, this friggin’ badge, an excuse from a proper education? Like it or not, Tina always said I was crazy. Not crazy in general (Inhales again), just crazy to join the police force. I wasn’t ever sure whether she meant both. Why didn’t I listen to her? Tina died a few months later and he just, lost it. I was 26, dad was nearing 50. She was the closest thing he had to mom. Didn’t seem like it though. She always sad that dad was getting home too late, missing thanksgiving, pondering over his cold dinner all the time. She was right, but it was always the job. Strange, now it’s my turn. (Smirks again) Dad always informed me of the dangers when I was kid, a teenager, an adult. Continuously, but I didn’t listen.
(A police car speeds by somewhere in the distant, its siren wailing. This is followed by the static crackle from the radio, muttering a very faint “Calling Unit 12-V10 to Victoria Street, Fifth Av-.”Before she turns the radio off. )
(Quotes in a mimicked voice) ‘Sweetie, you remind me of your dad you know. You’re strong willed. You’ve got that, sense of justice, the one he always had.’
Three bullets during an armed robbery and he ended up lying in unconsciousness before he knew it. Still so strong willed Velmie?
(She looks at her cigarette burning out and throws it out of the window, then reaches for another one, lights it and inhales.)
Alex wasn’t any help either. Detective Lieutenant Saunder with his cold, blue, distilled eyes. That news went around the force pretty fast, a bit like wildfire. (Sighs) That added to the stress that was already piling up. All of my life leading up to some jerk. But that’s why I did it. That’s why I’ve run away, all that crap.
Could’ve been easier, you know, just sitting at a desk all day rambling on into a phone. (Smirks) But I had to do what he wanted. Had to do what he said. Senseless sonovabitch.
For crying out loud, what did I ever want from the police force? (Inhales, lays hand on edge of open window) A gun, this friggin’ badge, an excuse from a proper education? Like it or not, Tina always said I was crazy. Not crazy in general (Inhales again), just crazy to join the police force. I wasn’t ever sure whether she meant both. Why didn’t I listen to her? Tina died a few months later and he just, lost it. I was 26, dad was nearing 50. She was the closest thing he had to mom. Didn’t seem like it though. She always sad that dad was getting home too late, missing thanksgiving, pondering over his cold dinner all the time. She was right, but it was always the job. Strange, now it’s my turn. (Smirks again) Dad always informed me of the dangers when I was kid, a teenager, an adult. Continuously, but I didn’t listen.
(A police car speeds by somewhere in the distant, its siren wailing. This is followed by the static crackle from the radio, muttering a very faint “Calling Unit 12-V10 to Victoria Street, Fifth Av-.”Before she turns the radio off. )
(Quotes in a mimicked voice) ‘Sweetie, you remind me of your dad you know. You’re strong willed. You’ve got that, sense of justice, the one he always had.’
Three bullets during an armed robbery and he ended up lying in unconsciousness before he knew it. Still so strong willed Velmie?
(She looks at her cigarette burning out and throws it out of the window, then reaches for another one, lights it and inhales.)
Alex wasn’t any help either. Detective Lieutenant Saunder with his cold, blue, distilled eyes. That news went around the force pretty fast, a bit like wildfire. (Sighs) That added to the stress that was already piling up. All of my life leading up to some jerk. But that’s why I did it. That’s why I’ve run away, all that crap.
(Pauses, inhales deeply and coughs for a long time.)
There’s blood on the back seat along with my gun. Murphy was hard to talk to, hard to get loose. I had to know, had to find out why Tina died, to see for myself why she jumped. (She smiles.) Murphy seemed to always know what was going on. That government leak who every cop knew? That’s him, Murphy’s your guy. With all that inside information, funny how he didn’t get that bullet in the head sooner. But he knew dad pretty well, not to mention Tina. Someone would have shut him up one way or another.
Life as a cop was tough, pieces of me fell with every case that closed. (Faint teardrop runs down cheek) I’m tired of it. (Lowers tone) As I think of it, I've got a journey to make. My gun has lost its license and my resignation has gone through. That day at the bridge, Tina didn't jump. That's one thing I'm sure about. (Pauses)
There’s blood on the back seat along with my gun. Murphy was hard to talk to, hard to get loose. I had to know, had to find out why Tina died, to see for myself why she jumped. (She smiles.) Murphy seemed to always know what was going on. That government leak who every cop knew? That’s him, Murphy’s your guy. With all that inside information, funny how he didn’t get that bullet in the head sooner. But he knew dad pretty well, not to mention Tina. Someone would have shut him up one way or another.
Life as a cop was tough, pieces of me fell with every case that closed. (Faint teardrop runs down cheek) I’m tired of it. (Lowers tone) As I think of it, I've got a journey to make. My gun has lost its license and my resignation has gone through. That day at the bridge, Tina didn't jump. That's one thing I'm sure about. (Pauses)
Tina had a secret. And it all concluded at that bridge where she jumped. I'm gonna' find out what happened to her.
But the last thing that Murphy said struck me hard;
'She was being watched'.
(She sticks the keys back into the ignition and starts the car again. She inhales her last breath, and throws the butt out of the window and drives off leaving only the slowly fading light of the cigarette to illuminate that one spot on the street.)
(She sticks the keys back into the ignition and starts the car again. She inhales her last breath, and throws the butt out of the window and drives off leaving only the slowly fading light of the cigarette to illuminate that one spot on the street.)
Friday, 7 March 2008
Hasan-Redraft
(A young man is sitting on the lower bed of his bunk bed in a small dark prison cell leaning against the wall. He’s wearing ripped grey trousers with a navy blue t-shirt that is stained. He starts scratching the stubble on his face and leans under his pillow to pull out a piece of chalk and draws a small line on the wall)
Day 63…only 302 more days left. Not that long left then I suppose. Im still breathing, although the asthma doesn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. But I feel as though im on the edge of it now, you know wa’ I mean. Like you know, this is it, nowhere else to go. And its only been one third of my total time. Wait , yh that’s right, one third. Yh I was always good at maths, always top of the class and knew algebra inside out. I could work out anything me, pity I couldn’t work this one out init.
(He moves on his bed and lays down facing the bunk above him and speaks as if he were speaking to the bed itself)
He was all brains up there. John was his name. He seemed like an average normal guy. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. ‘Never let life bring you down, always make sure your on top of things not the other way round’. That was what he always said and he stuck by his words as well. He never seemed depressed not even when he came home one day and found out his kitchen pipe has burst. ‘These things happen, thank god for yellow pages init’, that’s what he said. Thought of that to be weird to tell you the truth but it wasn’t really my problem. He said he had a son bob who was three. Born on the same day as my lil’ boy would you believe. We had a lot in common. But I guess you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover because not everything is as clear as it seems. John wasn’t. He was someone trapped inside life. Someone who didn’t know how to fight against the biggest enemy anyone can have. Himself. That’s how he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. Us big men can handle pressure.
(Takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He changed from being that polite clever good looking guy to someone who was obnoxious and who’s personality had become as shit as the life he lived. He just changed overnight like this British bloody weather. He started crying and instantly laughing’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. I just had to help him. I had to be there for him. He would’ve done the same. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. He even fucked up Bob. It was then when I was sure that I was doing the right thing. Told him I’d be there in 15 minutes like usual, but that day I got there in 9. Must’ve rushed a little on my way. Maybe I panicked or maybe I was just excited. I still don’t understand how I felt on my way there that day. I was all over the place I guess. He was in the shower when I came. I had to do it. I had to tie the rope around the shower head. He made me. Didn’t force me, but made me. Im glad I did too. He needed help, I helped him therefore I did a good deed. Yh a bloody good deed.
(He gets up and walks towards a pile of clothes and pulls out a picture of his son. Stroking the picture, he returns to his bed and kneels beside it)
Your mother thinks I was wrong son. But I wasn’t. I know I wasn’t .I helped him. Friends do that. She just doesn’t fucking understand. She’s a woman. Always thinking with her brain more then her heart. Silly cow. Don’t worry son Il be out soon. Soon as possible. I didn’t kill him, I helped free him. They all call me heartless, a murderer. The other prisoners say it, even the walls repeat it now. But im not fucking heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too fucking nice. Some say his end came to soon but I say that it came at just the right moment. Im not angry im here, im fucking angry because they don’t understand. They’re the wrong ones. Not me. They just don’t fucking understand. They never will.
Day 63…only 302 more days left. Not that long left then I suppose. Im still breathing, although the asthma doesn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. But I feel as though im on the edge of it now, you know wa’ I mean. Like you know, this is it, nowhere else to go. And its only been one third of my total time. Wait , yh that’s right, one third. Yh I was always good at maths, always top of the class and knew algebra inside out. I could work out anything me, pity I couldn’t work this one out init.
(He moves on his bed and lays down facing the bunk above him and speaks as if he were speaking to the bed itself)
He was all brains up there. John was his name. He seemed like an average normal guy. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. ‘Never let life bring you down, always make sure your on top of things not the other way round’. That was what he always said and he stuck by his words as well. He never seemed depressed not even when he came home one day and found out his kitchen pipe has burst. ‘These things happen, thank god for yellow pages init’, that’s what he said. Thought of that to be weird to tell you the truth but it wasn’t really my problem. He said he had a son bob who was three. Born on the same day as my lil’ boy would you believe. We had a lot in common. But I guess you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover because not everything is as clear as it seems. John wasn’t. He was someone trapped inside life. Someone who didn’t know how to fight against the biggest enemy anyone can have. Himself. That’s how he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. Us big men can handle pressure.
(Takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He changed from being that polite clever good looking guy to someone who was obnoxious and who’s personality had become as shit as the life he lived. He just changed overnight like this British bloody weather. He started crying and instantly laughing’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. I just had to help him. I had to be there for him. He would’ve done the same. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. He even fucked up Bob. It was then when I was sure that I was doing the right thing. Told him I’d be there in 15 minutes like usual, but that day I got there in 9. Must’ve rushed a little on my way. Maybe I panicked or maybe I was just excited. I still don’t understand how I felt on my way there that day. I was all over the place I guess. He was in the shower when I came. I had to do it. I had to tie the rope around the shower head. He made me. Didn’t force me, but made me. Im glad I did too. He needed help, I helped him therefore I did a good deed. Yh a bloody good deed.
(He gets up and walks towards a pile of clothes and pulls out a picture of his son. Stroking the picture, he returns to his bed and kneels beside it)
Your mother thinks I was wrong son. But I wasn’t. I know I wasn’t .I helped him. Friends do that. She just doesn’t fucking understand. She’s a woman. Always thinking with her brain more then her heart. Silly cow. Don’t worry son Il be out soon. Soon as possible. I didn’t kill him, I helped free him. They all call me heartless, a murderer. The other prisoners say it, even the walls repeat it now. But im not fucking heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too fucking nice. Some say his end came to soon but I say that it came at just the right moment. Im not angry im here, im fucking angry because they don’t understand. They’re the wrong ones. Not me. They just don’t fucking understand. They never will.
task 21
(Standing on the roof of a nine storey apartment, Lauren looks down quizzically, then turns to face the audience.)
turns to face the audienceLittle Lilla didn't deserve to go, thinking about it now. At that time, killing her seemed to me to be saving her. I was very confused, as you could probably tell. When Lilla's grandmother suspected a suspicious death, I saw it as an oppertunity to seek revenge on all those smart comments she threw at me. Then Matty and I had a row, obviously there would be tension and I was expecting it, what with the loss of his only daughter and his mother. However, it took a nasty turn when Matty's tone of voice suggested he suspected a bit of foul play with the unfortunate losses. So, whilst his back was turned, I plunged a dirty blunt kitchen knife into it. It provided thorough entertainment as it squidged into him, i can still remember the faint smell of pickle left in the kitchen as i cleaned the bloody floors. And as I did it, I remember thinking "bloody hell Lauren, look what you've done now. Im sure this was on an episode of eastenders once!" Soon after, the old hags in town started talking and that pissed me off too and I couldn't kill them off 'cos there were so many so I was relieved when I had a brainstorm. So my last words to you are Don't kill your kids - it's more trouble than it's worth.
(And with that, she jumps, curtains close.)
turns to face the audienceLittle Lilla didn't deserve to go, thinking about it now. At that time, killing her seemed to me to be saving her. I was very confused, as you could probably tell. When Lilla's grandmother suspected a suspicious death, I saw it as an oppertunity to seek revenge on all those smart comments she threw at me. Then Matty and I had a row, obviously there would be tension and I was expecting it, what with the loss of his only daughter and his mother. However, it took a nasty turn when Matty's tone of voice suggested he suspected a bit of foul play with the unfortunate losses. So, whilst his back was turned, I plunged a dirty blunt kitchen knife into it. It provided thorough entertainment as it squidged into him, i can still remember the faint smell of pickle left in the kitchen as i cleaned the bloody floors. And as I did it, I remember thinking "bloody hell Lauren, look what you've done now. Im sure this was on an episode of eastenders once!" Soon after, the old hags in town started talking and that pissed me off too and I couldn't kill them off 'cos there were so many so I was relieved when I had a brainstorm. So my last words to you are Don't kill your kids - it's more trouble than it's worth.
(And with that, she jumps, curtains close.)
Wednesday, 5 March 2008
task 20
(Susan Gates is a twenty-five year old maid in a stately country home sitting on the steps outside on the porch when police officers are checking her room of evidence against the death of Hamish Jones.)
Well what am I meant to say, really... the idiot should have died anyway thank god, or I would have stuck the bloody knife in him myself if no one else would have done it!
Hamish wasn’t a nice bloke, he thought he ‘coulda’ get the better of women, he thought god created us; just to give him children, but hell no! He weren’t gonna get the better of me! I might be a English maid like the rest but, Hamish, no-no, Hamish was just, different to other men, I don’t really know what singled him out to the rest of the other blokes, but he properly just, I ‘dunno’, took advantage over women than the rest that ‘sorta thing’. He was drunk a lot, so he tried to touch your bottom and that sick ‘sorta’ thing... he didn’t really do it to me as I’m not that pretty, compared to Lucy Grange, with blue eyes and long blond hair, Me, I have big round glasses , lots of huge blotchy freckles, a horrible bobbed hair cut and a fat tummy, and I ‘gotta’ say that the cigarettes and the baileys won’t do much good, but I’m twenty-five and have police in my room searching my draws- For evidence! Ha, probably just ‘wanna’ good look around.
Well for one thing I know, that I had no intentions of killing the gerk than anyone else, and whoever did it I would kiss ‘dem’ a thousand times, but who wants to kiss me apart from a dead man!
(Looks round and snarls at the police sergeants who looked at her out of the window.)
Well what am I meant to say, really... the idiot should have died anyway thank god, or I would have stuck the bloody knife in him myself if no one else would have done it!
Hamish wasn’t a nice bloke, he thought he ‘coulda’ get the better of women, he thought god created us; just to give him children, but hell no! He weren’t gonna get the better of me! I might be a English maid like the rest but, Hamish, no-no, Hamish was just, different to other men, I don’t really know what singled him out to the rest of the other blokes, but he properly just, I ‘dunno’, took advantage over women than the rest that ‘sorta thing’. He was drunk a lot, so he tried to touch your bottom and that sick ‘sorta’ thing... he didn’t really do it to me as I’m not that pretty, compared to Lucy Grange, with blue eyes and long blond hair, Me, I have big round glasses , lots of huge blotchy freckles, a horrible bobbed hair cut and a fat tummy, and I ‘gotta’ say that the cigarettes and the baileys won’t do much good, but I’m twenty-five and have police in my room searching my draws- For evidence! Ha, probably just ‘wanna’ good look around.
Well for one thing I know, that I had no intentions of killing the gerk than anyone else, and whoever did it I would kiss ‘dem’ a thousand times, but who wants to kiss me apart from a dead man!
(Looks round and snarls at the police sergeants who looked at her out of the window.)
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