Flash Club June Flash Club Contest

[Emily]

Happy June!

For this month I thought we'd something different... The challenge for June is to write a short script/screenplay/dialogue piece of 100 lines or less to the theme of Jubilee.

As always, a like equals a vote, a love equals 2 votes.

The main rules are:
SUBMIT ANONYMOUSLY
and
NO CRITIQUING other people's work

Good luck!!

 

[Anonymous]

Glass near empty....

 

[Anonymous]

Constituent Parts

 

[Anonymous]

An alternate reality. INT. The palace. Armoury. Morning. The prince (no, not Prince, the singer) and his personal dresser henceforth known as PD (I can't be arsed to type) enter to the sound of fanfares.

Prince: Bloody hell. Why couldn't the silly bat abdicate 20 years ago. I'm not getting any younger. But no. She wanted to do 70 years of service. Fit chick she is. A doddery yet tough old bird. She wanted a Jubilee party.
PD: Sire, you shouldn't talk about The Queen like that.
Prince: Yeah, you're right. She's my mother after all.
PD: So, Sire, do you want the medieval ceremonial sword, or would you prefer a Guillotine?
Prince: I don't care. In ten minutes, I'll be King.

 

[Anonymous]

A MIDSUMMER BOOTIE​

​

CAST​

DENIER SHANK (Playwright of renown. Mid 50s)
DAVE K’SHOUSH, ROB DOWNER, JAYNE WHELK and HARRIET HEDGE (Actors in their 30’s)
CARLA FERRET (Young student)

SETTING​

The green room of a typical small theatre in a large city. Shabby and cluttered, with a table, chairs and boxes of props. The play opens with all the cast (except for CARLA FERRET) sitting around the table.


DENIER SHANK: (Clears throat)
I expect you’re all wond’ring why I’ve called you in, today?
Well, Queen Emily has commissioned a play,
For her Jubilee.
She’s requested me.

JAYNE:
That’s quite an honour.

DAVE K’SHOUSH:
Why you, chief? Your career’s in the doldrums.

DENIER SHANK: (Miserably)
Doldrums, indeed.
This whole industry’s gone to the wall.
The Lockdown has ruined us all.
But the Queen loves my style, apparently,
Our play will feature on the BBC.

HARRIET: (Sarcastically)
No pressure, then?

ROB:
How the hell do we get bums on seats, nowadays? Everything’s been done. All-black Shakespeare - Done. All-female Dracula – done. Wanking on stage – done. Baby-stoning – done.

DAVE K’SHOUSH: (Paces the room, animated)
We could kill someone - live. Picture it! The lights go down. We bow and exit stage. But the guy who died in the last-but-one act is still slumped there. The audience file out, confused. Is the actor literally dead? Nobody will ever know, because straight afterwards… He disappears. Duh-duh-duh!

DENIER SHANK:
You always strive to polish a turd, and
I think that’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.

ROB: to HARRIET and JAYNE (Whispers)
WE could kill Dave? He’s a massive nobhead.

Enter CARLA FERRET – gushing with apology for being late.

DENIER SHANK:
My brief is clear,
The Queen wants only good Jubilee cheer.
To celebrate the richness and diversity of this resilient nation.
So… No shocks, sex, killings, or masturbation.

CARLA FERRET:
Can I suggest summat?

DAVE K’SHOUSH:
And you are?

CARLA FERRET:
On work experience.

DAVE K’SHOUSH:
Ah. You know where the kettle is, love.

ROB: (Bitterly)
I’ll make his coffee… And spit in it.

CARLA FERRET:
Why not write a play about normal people, doing everyday things?

HARRIET:
I like it. A small Northern town. Sunday morning. A rugby ground…

JAYNE:
With a car boot sale on!

ROB: (Excited)
It’s a big bootie – half the town’s turned out.

CARLA FERRET:
How would we do that on stage? We’d need loads of extras.

DENIER SHANK:
SFX, dear. Video projections,
Or crowd sounds coming from all directions.
We’d only need two actual stalls.
The Royal Variety Performance calls.

JAYNE: (Grabs notebook)
So, chief, what’s our plot?

DENIER SHANK: (Stands. Thumps his chest.)
Our hero is a common man,
Working on his dad’s chip van.
Pining for his unrequited love,
A sad girl, (with a name like Rose, or Dove.)
A Ukrainian refugee - fleeing war,
And lodging at the house next door.

HARRIET:
Can I play a tough, sharp-talking woman on the stall opposite the chip van? She’s selling homegrown tomatoes, to raise funds for Guide Dogs.

DAVE K’SHOUSH:
I’ll play the hero. Provided he’s not Geordie, that is. Or Scottish.

ROB:
Can we have him foil a terrorist attack? At the bootie?

DENIER SHANK:
All good ideas, so keep them coming.
We speak for the people of our times.
Bear in mind, that Queen Emily has,
Imposed a limit of a hundred lines.
I think we’ve reached…

 

[Mel L]

Happy June!

For this month I thought we'd something different... The challenge for June is to write a short script/screenplay/dialogue piece of 100 lines or less to the theme of Jubilee.

As always, a like equals a vote, a love equals 2 votes.

The main rules are:
SUBMIT ANONYMOUSLY
and
NO CRITIQUING other people's work

Good luck!!

100 lines or 100 words...?

 

[Emily]

100 lines or 100 words...?

100 lines, please

 

[Pamela Jo]

Specifically the Queen's jubilee? Or any interpretation of Jubilee? It means something else in the US. Juneteenth - Wikipedia

 

[Emily]

Oh, any Jubilee

 

[Anonymous]

THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTION​

EXT — ON TOP OF A STEEP CLIFF ABOVE THE OCEAN — NIGHT

SOUND of roaring waves far below.

A CAR rolls in and stops 20 meters from the edge of the cliff. The engine and headlights are switched off.

Two doors swing open. FALL (male, 45) exits from the front. Black leather jacket and jeans. ROBERT (male, 27) exits from the back. Sweatshirt and blue jeans.

FALL
Is this where it happened?

Robert nods.

FALL
(to someone in the car)
Are you coming?

WINTHER(female, 35) exits from the front. Pinstripe jacket and tight leather skirt. Robert stares as she exits the car. Winther places a BOOTLE of champagne and two FLUTES on the hood.

FALL
What's that for?

WINTHER
Later.

Winther catches up and they head for the cliff edge.

WINTHER
(To Robert)
What brought you out here?

ROBERT
I just wanted to be alone. And think.

WINTHER
Girl trouble?

FALL
(to Winther)
He was here, alright?
(to Robert)
Where did they land?

ROBERT
There.

FALL
Not much to see.

ROBERT
I already told that to the other guys. I don't really see why I had to take you out here and show you there's nothing to see.
(a tiny bit of suspicion)
I thought you'd bring instruments and stuff.

Winther takes Robert by the arm and gently guides him away from Fall and closer to the edge.

WINTHER
Look at me, Robert.

Robert looks at her. Fall walks up behind Robert and takes out a PISTOL and screws on a SILENCER. Robert, lost in Winther's eyes does not notice.

WINTHER
Listen carefully, Robert. Are you absolutely sure—

ROBERT

I already told—

Fall raises the gun and holds it an inch behind Robert's head.

WINTHER
Wait, wait, wait. Let me finish. Are you absolutely sure that the spaceship landed here and took you on board? Think very carefully, Robert. This is the most important question you've ever been asked. Is there any chance, no matter how small, that you could have been hallucinating?

ROBERT
No way.

Winther quickly steps to the side. A WHUMP sounds from the pistol. Robert crumbles and Fall helps him out over the edge.

BY THE CAR —

FALL
So what's with the champagne?

WINTHER
This was number ten.

FALL
I figured that. I used to do silly things like that too. Marking jubilees and such. Only too late did I realize, that that's what made me lose my soul. Not the killings, the celebrations. Don't start down that road. Please.

Winther hesitates. Then she goes into the car and Fall follows.

The car drivers away. As it turns, the bottle and glasses slide off the hood and crash on the ground.

The SOUND of the car recedes, leaving the SOUND of roaring waves.

 

[Anonymous]

CHARACTERS:
Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth
An Australian—aka ‘You Stupid Mehn’

SCENE ONE. QUEENIE GOES NORTH

EXT: A private corner of the Royal Orchard. Pigeons coo in the background.
QUEENIE (Q): Imperiously. In the year of our Platinum Jubilee, we have decided to restore glory to our fabulous empire.
AUSTRALIAN (A): Sounds like a bonza plan, ma’am.
Q: For too long, we have been a laughing stock. The dreadful Rupert and his tabloids have destroyed our credibility.
A: Rupert. But isn’t he just a bear, ma’am?
Q: Ignores A. In any case, we have decided to expand our territories. So, I command you, my antipodean explorer, to go forth and make it thus.
A. Well, where would you like me to start, ma’am?
Q: I think we would like to own both ends of the channel tunnel.
A: Are you suggesting I conquer the French, ma’am?
Q: That would be a splendid beginning of (pumps the air with her gloved fists) ‘Operation RECLAIM THE REALM’.
A: This is a bit of a surprise, ma’am. I haven’t seen anything about this on the telly. Will the Prime Minister have some troops to help me, then?
Q: OH, we won’t bother the Prime Minister with this. He and the House are in… erm…
A: Erm?
Q: In recess. They are in recess. Stop asking questions, you stupid mehn!
A: In recess until when, Your Majesty?
Q: Until I unlock the doors to the Houses of Parliament.
A: Well, I’m going to need some sort of weapon, ma’am.
Q: Would the corgis suffice?
A: Have they had their rabies shots?
Q: Oh, I don’t know, I would ask Charles, but he is in recess, too.
A: Perhaps we can leave the French until I find a suitable weapon, ma’am?
Q: I suppose so. Did you have anything in mind?
A: Well, they left something in Mururoa Atoll, and I’d love to give it back to them.
Q: Alright, the French need not be our first conquest. You will go to North America.
A: North America is very populated, ma’am, and they own rather a lot of guns.
Q: Grimacing. Oh, don’t remind us! Well, how about North Africa?
A: Mountains of sand, ma’am, and very hot.
Q: For goodness sake, settle on something. We are running out of ‘Norths’.
A: Perhaps North Korea?
Q: Turns to camera with a disturbed expression.
A: But maybe not a good idea if you want me to bring ALL the corgis back, ma’am. Is there anywhere closer to home that we could practice on for starters?
Q: I would consult the War Office, but they are all in… erm…
A: I understand, ma’am. Maybe somewhere I could get to in a couple of hours, Out and back in a jiffy. Somewhere they have cold beer and decent tucker.
Q: Aright. Alright. I know just the place. We shall send you to Northern Ireland.
A: Um. Are you sure that’s a good idea, ma’am? I mean didn’t they… I seem to remember…
Q: Commandingly. NooOE! Our mind is made up! We must have that lovely green patch of land, and you are just the man to get it for us! Go forth! Go North and conquer!
A: As you wish, ma’am.

SCENE TWO: THE LONGEST DAY

EXT: The front lawn of Westminster Abbey. Large black birds are squawking in the trees.
QUEENIE: My good mehn, you have returned. How fares our Royal Campaign?
AUSTRALIAN: I struck some unexpected obstacles.
Q: What sort of ‘obstacles’?
A: The Irish.
Q: Oh dear, those bothersome Irish. A raucous noise erupts overhead.
A: There seem to be a lot of birds here today.
Q: Oh don’t be afraid of a few pigeons. Are you equipped yet to march against the French?
A: Not quite yet, ma’am. I was thinking… perhaps Greece?
Q: But is there anything left? Smirks. Would it not be easier for us to visit the British Museum?
A: Nervous. Those birds are getting louder, ma’am, and they don’t sound like pigeons.
Q: Time is getting away, and I can’t keep parliament in recess forever. Gestures imperiously. You shall go to the Alps. Pillage, plunder, and return with booty befitting this glorious monarchy.
A: Ma’am, I wish you would stop waving your arms about. The birds…
Q: Animated. You must seize the treasure from the Huns, crush them completely, and bring it back here. All of it, I want all of it! Do you hear me, good mehn?!
A: Ma’am, all this waving. You’re upsetting them.
Q: Them? Whatever do you mean?
A: The birds. The big, black birds. There’s a whole flock of them and they are about to attack!
Q: Go AWAY! Swats at descending shadows. Shoo, foul creatures! Loud flatulent noise.
A: Oh dear, ma’am, all over your jubilee robe.
Q: Disgusted expression. Eew!

SCENE THREE. THE 10 O’CLOCK NEWS

INT: The BBC Newsroom, Millbank.
Q: Closer. Are you paying attention, mehn?
A: Extreme close-up. Peering into the camera. Sorry, Ma’am. I’m not familiar with this equipment. Fiddles with lens. Is this thing working, do you think?
Q: NooOE! We want the cameras on us!
A: Aside to audience. It’s hardly my fault she’s put all the crew into bloody ‘recess’.
Q: What are you saying? We didn’t hear you.
A: Nothing Ma’am. I was just saying that we want to see you at your best.
Q: Smiles sweetly and directly to camera. There we are! Now, where is our script?
A: Here, Ma’am.
Q: Reads from script. Dear Minions—
A: Your majesty. Can I suggest you try something less… less… pompous?
Q: Where are the chimes? You are supposed to be making chimes to herald our speech.
A: Here you are. Canned laughter. Oh, wrong button. Let me try again. Big Ben chimes.
Q: Dear Minions. We are pleased to share some momentous news. Our Royal campaign has been progressing splendidly, with glorious victory on all fronts— Loud knocking on door. GO AWAY!
A: There’s a person outside Ma’am. She wants to know what we are doing here.
Q: Tell her it is none of her business.
A: She’s the Director General of the BBC, and she wants to know what you’ve done to her staff.
Q: Be gone, dreadful woman! Receding footsteps.
A: She’s gone now, Ma’am, but she said something about fetching the Commissioner.
Q: Quickly, then. Let us complete our broadcast before we are interrupted again. Dear Minions— Siren sounds outside. Q’s voice accelerates. We are very happy to announce Stage 2 of our Royal Campaign. ‘SEIZE THE SOUTH!’ Sound of door splintering.
Q: I think we are done. Until our next broadcast. Grandiose waving. RECLAIM THE REALM!

 

[Emily]

Queen Emily (must get @AgentPete to change my handle to reflect my true royal status) is delighted to announce to winner of June's Flash Fiction contest... it may come as no surprise that @RG Worsey is, *once again*!!!!! our very worthy winner for her entry HERE. WELL DONE and well deserved

I shall defer all bowing and scrapping for today to our June winner, and normal servitude can resume tomorrow