Tag Archives: Dialogue

Fred, the dead Red Squirrel, sighed

Fred, the dead Red Squirrel, sighed,

‘The last time I died …’ he said,

I was wearing red.

‘And, this time, too …

perhaps, next time, I should

be wearing blue.

In the Yurt 2525

Ziggy Zager and Evie Evans we’re doing some serious glamping in Far East Cornwall for a week towards the back end of the season, when the weather changed for the worse.

“Hey, Zigs!” expressed Evie, “The weather’s changed for the worse!”

Zigs looked out of an alternative window to the one Evie was peering through and observed that it was indeed so.

“It might be a duvet day, Evs! Certainly not a day for exploring the locale.”

Luckily, the yurt they were in had a decent log burner and a plentiful supply of fuel. Building up the heating so it could be self-sufficient for a fair old time, Ziggy and Evie headed back to the safety of the bed.

All around the glamping site many others were similarly bunkering down for the foreseeable.

‘Stoked, he was!’

“Stoked, he was – absolutely stoked!”

“And what does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I just heard the word ‘stoked’, and I wanted to use it in a conversation.

“Oh! Was he Carlisled as well?”

“Oh, very probably.”

PC Winters Enters – #DialogueForAPlay

NB PC Winsome Winters always refers to his notebook for detail, and is constantly updating it.

SD PC Winters Enters

PC Winters: I have arrived hot foot from the station, Sarge!

WPS Wispy: Foot? Not ‘feet’, Constable?

PC Winters: Oh, yes, ‘feet’ it is, Sarge. Let me just write that down. (there is a slight pause) ‘Feet’.

WPS Wispy: Marvellous. And your reason for running all the way here, Constable?

PC Winters: Ah, let me just consult… my notebook. (there is a slight pause) Feet! No. (Another pause) Ah, yes, here it is. ‘Tell WPS Wispy that Romeo and Juliet are doing the Foxtrot Tango.

WPS Wispy: I see. That’s good. Can you let DC Acey know that Papa’s got a brand new bag.

PC Winters: (writing) Tell DC Acey, ‘Papa’s got a brand new bag.’ Right-o.

SD PC Winters leaves.

WPS Wispy: The boy is a fool, a good-natured fool, but a fool nevertheless.

Beehive Behaviour

“Children, children, children, children,

children, children, chil—‘ said the Queen bee.

‘What on earth is going on this morning?

I made up your sandwiches, filled you all a flask, and all I ask is a little peace and quiet – and it’s just chaos!

“It’s bedlam!” cried the Queen bee/

“Well, ma’am…” said one particularly brave worker bee, “it’s our beehive, you see.”

“And what is wrong with the beehive?”

“Well… it seems to be perched upon the top of somebody’s head!”

Rose-Tinted

“Rose has just tinted me.”

“Texted you!”

“No, definitely ‘tinted’. Look!”

“Oh, yes, that’s a look that many would be proud of—“

“Yes…?”

“— for their grandmothers.”

Stolen, Sunk, or just Floated Away.

Where is the island?

Over there!

Where?

There! Behind the mist!

I can’t see it. Are you sure it’s there?

It was there last time I saw it!

But, what’s to say that it’s still there now?

It just is, alright?

It might have been stolen, sunk, or just floated away.

Really?

Might have.

Yes, there is a possibility, though not a probability.

I reckon it sank, without Tracey.

Sorry?

I meant, ‘without a trace’.

Yes. I can see that now.

Where?

Oh, good grief!

Mr Windlesham, I Presume?

There is one man in the waiting room, waiting.

Another man enters from the direction of the consulting rooms.

Mr Windlesham?

Yes.

and… (looks around) Mr. Pettigrew?

Yes.

Which?

Are you calling me a witch? In which case… yes.

No. I was asking— are you Mr. Whindlesham—

Yes.

—or Mr. Pettigrew?

Also, yes.

Which?

No. I’m not a witch, but you could call me Mr. Witch. If you wanted to. I won’t mind.

What was the name under ‘which’ you booked your appointment?

Yes. Charles Alexander Watt. Bachelor of this parish.

Are you being serious?

Serious is my middle name. ‘Being’ being my first.

And what, pray tell, is your surname?

Yes.

Sorry?

Being Serious Watt-Pray-Tell, at your service.

Heavens!

Yes?

Room 5

“Here you are, Mr. Binary, your room, Room 5.”

Mr. B: Oh, no! I distinctly asked not to be allocated this room number, it’s even unluckier than room one-one-o-one!

“Our room numbers don’t go up that far, Mr. Binary. We only have 20 rooms.

SD Mr. B considers this.

Mr. B: And, are you sure that nineteen pounds eighty four is the correct amount per night? Have I got that right?

“Are you related?”

“Are you related?”

“Yes, I’m very happy indeed!”