Tag Archives: Dialogue

Pangolins, Frangipanis, and the like.

Pangolins, Frangipanis, and the like.

Pangolin!

Frangipani!

No, Pangolin!

You wouldn’t eat a Pangolin?

No.

But you can eat a Frangipani.

Isn’t it an animal?

No. It’s… type of pasta… I think.

So, it might be an animal?

Well, okay, yes it might. I don’t know. It was just the first thing I came up with after your Pandolin – which I thought was a musical instrument.

Oh. It could be. Perhaps we should check these things out.

What, before we go public?

Are we going public?

Obviously. Who could keep our amazing banter under wraps?

Philately!

Careful, you’ll burst a blood vessel if you carry on like that.

Sorry.

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“Never say ‘Rabbi’ in a boat!”

“Never say ‘Rabbi’ in a boat!”

Owan: Never say ‘rabbi’ in a boat.

Duloe: Rabbi? It should be ‘rabbit’, never say ‘rabbit’ in a boat; though, saying that, saying ‘rabbit’ in a boat doesn’t make much sense either, but it makes more sense than ‘rabbi’.

Owan: Yes. But, what should I be saying in a boat?

Duloe: ‘Land ahoy! Raise anchor! Shiver me timbers!’

Owan: When was the last time you went on a boat? 1780?

Duloe: I come from a long line of seafarers – it says so on my family tree. My father went to sea at Newquay, as did his brother, and my mother, too. Until they got bored and gave it up.

Owan: Your parents were ‘surfers’ and they went in the sea at Newquay to surf – with a surf ‘board’.

Duloe: How do you know all this stuff?

Owan: Because we are brothers.

Duloe: Oh. Did your parents also go to sea, then?

Owan: RABBI!!!!!

Their dog then proceeded to jump overboard.

Both: Oops!

“Knock! Knock!”

“Knock! Knock!”

“Knock! Knock!”

“Is this some kind of a joke?

“Is this some kind of a joke who?”

“What?”

“I’ll start again. Knock! Knock!”

“Why fo you keep saying that?”

“Why aren’t you responding in the correct manner?”

“Because this is silly. You are not standing outside of my door – and, I have a doorbell.”

“Ring! Ring!”

“You don’t have to do the noises, a bell will ring all by itself.”

“If it were here.”

“If it were here – which it isn’t.

“And there was anybody to ring it.”

“Which there isn’t.”

“You do realise that you are doing both voices in this dialogue, don’t you?”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. That’s a bit weird.”

“Just a bit.”

“Anyway… knock! Knock!”

SFX “Slap!”

Will & Ben: Renaissance Men – a Horf?

Will & Ben: Renaissance Men – a horf?

Ben: My horʃ, my horʃ, my kingdom for a horʃ?

Will: It’s a horse, Ben; ‘a horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.’

Ben: Thou art so old fashioned, Will. How will anyone be able to read this rubbish?

Will: I’m not letting you trick me into admitting it is ‘rubbish’, Ben; I think that a lot of people are quietly pleased that I am keeping the old mother tongue alive.

Ben: Quietly indeed, Will – my mother’s tongue and my father’s eyes hath I – in this box, durst thou wan’t to see them, again, Will?

Will: Nay, good Ben, I have neither the eyes nor the stomach to spy upon them a second time – once was once more than enough.

(A pause)

Ben: ‘the sound of one hand clapping frightens no chickens’.

Will: One of yours, Ben?

Ben: A line that I have recently quilled for my ‘Every Man in His Humour’. I quite like it’s understated relevancy, Will.

Will: A palpable hit with the unwashed molasses, Ben, palpable in truth for a distance of feet.

Ben: ‘Two feet makes a distance much further than three.’ I shall use that one day.

Will (aside): Use it ‘and’ abuse it, I am sure. The fool shall speak it well, be that it is in your own voice.

Ben: Charming!

“Strain” #SoCS @LindaGHill

“Strain” #SoCS @LindaGHill

Linda’s site here for more info

“Strain my socks in a colander, dear.”

“A ‘please’ would be nice, ‘dear!’ “

“Please strain my socks in a colander, my angel.”

“Better.” a pause, “But, and I ask this not expecting a sensible answer, why?”

“Because my socks need straining.”

she looked at him from the safety of her ‘normal’ mind. “Oh, that’s alright then, I thought there was some ulterior motive.”

“No. I’ve not been outside all morning.”

“Ulterior! Not ‘exterior’, you numpty! Are you saying that you’ve got your socks wet ‘indoors?’ “

“That’s right. I was straining custard through them – to get the lumps out – and so I had to wash them in the sink. Now they need straining in a colander to get the soapy water out of them, what’s not sensible about that?”

“Shall I just say ‘custard’ and walk away in disbelief?”

“If you like.” he turned back to the semi-professional mud-wrestling on the TV, “Otherwise they’ll be damp when I put them back on.”

“You have other pairs of socks, you know?”

“Them’s me favrites!” he almost spat the words, “And they don’t have holes in heels or toes.”

Maud shook her head in mild amusement and slight bemusement, and reached for the colander.

“Thursday!” she commented. “As I live and breathe, I will never know what goes on in his mind on *Thursdays.”

—//—

*My 10-minute timer went off here.

Will & Ben: Renaissance Men – Beds & Bed-Pans

Will & Ben: Renaissance Men – Beds & Bed-Pans

Ben: Will! Will!

Will: What ‘tis, Ben?

Ben: Hast thou written a will, Will?

Will: hast thou written a ben, Ben?

Ben: No; but, seriously, Will – hast thou?

Will: No, Ben, I hast not written a… will. Shouldst there be a reason for my doing so?

Ben: The will-writer hath come to town.

Will: Ben! Will the Writer is always in town; except for when he wends his weary way back to Stratford. Then Will the Writer is in the country, Ben.

Ben: Very droll, Mr. William Shakespeare; but, if thou doth, please remember that you hath promised me of your second-best bed – it is a King James size bed – and wouldst well replace my old Queen Elizabeth size one. Will?

Will: I thought I said I wouldn’t leave you my second-best ‘bed-pan’, Ben – Ben being the shortened form of ‘bed-pan’.

Ben: Thank you, Willie Wormwood, Thank you so much!

Will: You are welcome, Bed-Pan.

In the Squad Car

In the squad car

Juliet (into walkie-talkie): Oscar Biscuit Tango! Oscar Biscuit Tango!

Oscar: Shouldn’t that be Oscar Bravo Tango?

Juliet: It should, but; as you are named Oscar Biscuit, I thought that I would update our phonetic alphabet a little.

Oscar: I should remind you, Juliet, that your name is Juliet and we can always make strange new phonetic letters to go with that.

Juliet: Such as?

Oscar: Well, um, okay, how about Juliet Zipadeedoodah Fandango?

Juliet: I like it, lots. And I’m going to change my name by deed poll to ‘Juliet Zipadeedoodah Fandango!’

Oscar: you can’t change the Juliet part – you are already Juliet.

Juliet: No, not really; the lads at my first station just called me that because of my being a woman.

Oscar: Oh. What is your real name?

Juliet: It’s a bit embarrassing?

Oscar: You can tell me – I’m Oscar Biscuit, so let’s just be open with our names.

Juliet: Okay. My name is… Charli (with an I and no e) Sue-Lou Foxcroft.

Oscar: And a lovely name it is, too.

Radio Voice: Oscar Biscuit Tango! Oscar Biscuit Tango! It’s Golf Hotel Weekend here – are you receiving me?