Fortnightly Writing Competition: All the World's a Stage (Results)

Started by Sinitrena, Tue 04/06/2019 17:54:24

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Sinitrena

Quote from: Shakespeare: As You Like It, Act II Scene VIIAll the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven stages.



Quote from: Joel Grey: Cabaret, Act I, Scene IWillkommen! And bienvenue! Welcome!
Fremder, étranger, stranger
Glücklich zu sehen
Je suis enchanté
Happy to see you
Bleibe, reste, stay
Willkommen! And bienvenue! Welcome!

If you haven't figured it out by now, this Fortnightly Writing Competition is all about the stage and theater.

I'm not asking for a story set in a theater-setting, though, but for you to write a play for me - well, part of one, I'm not unreasonable.  ;)

Writing for actors is in many ways very diffferent to writing a short story: You cannot decide what exactly someone will look like, being limited by actors; you don't have the option to lead your readers into a world of its own through elaborate descriptions; you cannot show many different locations, being restricted by physical limitations of a stage, and so on.


So, this is the challange for you:

- Write a play or - more realistically - part of a play (you can add a synopsis of parts that come before or after), maybe a sketch, or something similar. It should be one completed scene (characters coming on stage and leaving again) or more.
- Remember the limitations of theater! (For this, I want you to think classical theater or amateure theater without any money or technology, so even if you could argue that nowadays video-installatons allow us to show nearly everything on stage, that's not what this topic is about.)
- Convey your story through mainly spoken language (dialogue, monologue, etc...) and obviously visible actions.
- Use stage directions as necessary. (They should be functional, not fancy.)


I haven't decided on voting categories yet, but I'll probably focus on the technical aspect a bit more than the plot aspect - that doesn't mean that you shouldn't also tell a story! As a matter of fact, a good scene advances the plot just as much as a paragraph in a short story.


That's it.

Quote from: Shakespeare: The Winter's Tale, Act III, Scene III (Stage Direction)Exit, pursued by a bear.
But not before you notice the deadline of 19th June 2019.

KyriakosCH

It is a very nice idea, though I wish it allowed for prose about plays, or a story influenced by the famous quote.
Even so, I am sure there will be interesting creations, just not by myself (I can't do plays) :)
This is the Way - A dark allegory. My Twitter!  My Youtube!

Sinitrena

Quote from: KyriakosCH on Tue 04/06/2019 19:05:26
It is a very nice idea, though I wish it allowed for prose about plays, or a story influenced by the famous quote.

While that would be a great topic as well, it is something completely different and also allowing prose about plays/theater would probably lead to most entries ignoring the challenge to write a play. The challenge is to write something we usually don't write here. Although, it has some similarities with writing for a game.

Quote from: KyriakosCH on Tue 04/06/2019 19:05:26
Even so, I am sure there will be interesting creations, just not by myself (I can't do plays) :)

Of course you can! Just give it a try!  :-* That's part of the fun of writing for the FWC: Working with topics, themes and techniques that are not your cup of tea.  (nod)

JudasFm

Hooray!
The Squid and I majored in screenwriting at tech college in Tokyo, but I never tried writing for theater before. I'm eager to tackle this one  :-D :-D :-D

Mandle

NUTS AND BOLTS

ACT ONE:

SCENE ONE:

LIGHTS FADE IN TO REVEAL A STAGE SET AS A FACTORY WORK-FLOOR WITH SEVERAL LARGE MACHINING STATIONS AND A COFFEE BREAK AREA ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF STAGE WITH A SIMPLE CARD TABLE, COFFEE MACHINE, AND SEVERAL CHAIRS.

(A lone actor stands slightly off mid-stage to the left in overalls with one shoulder strap broken but left uncared for and hanging at knee-level...He is sweeping nuts and bolts from the factory floor into a scoop and is very intent on doing so.)

(ENTER STAGE LEFT: THREE WORKERS)

BOB (A workman dressed in oiled overalls) : "...but even then it's just a..."

DRUE (Dressed same): "...yeah-yeah, "a wank", how many times you gonna say it?!"

JULES (Dressed same): "It's not like the test is gonna matter or anything."

DRUE: "Whatta ya mean? They said we might get..."

BOB: "WHAT?! Promoted?! That retard over there (GESTURES TOWARDS THE SWEEPER) stands a better chance to get promoted off the floor than any of us."

JULES: "Come on, mate. He's standin' right there! Don't call him that!"

DRUE: "Naw, doesn't matter a rat's shit. Luke doesn't know his socks from his shoes."

(THE THREE WORKERS HAVE CROSSED TO THE COFFEE STATION AND ARE PREPARING THEIR DRINKS)

DRUE: "Ain't that right, Luke?"

LUKE (The sweeping worker): "Huh?"

DRUE: "I said isn't that ri..."

JULES: (Loud voice) How you like your coffee there, Luke?! Black or white?

(The three workers turn to Luke, who, head still down, broom in mid-sweep, replies)

LUKE: (In a robotic voice) Brown, please.

(The three workers laugh as if this is an old joke they are very used to laughing at and then start to make their coffees)

(As JULES prepares LUKE's "Brown" coffee:)

(ENTER STAGE RIGHT: SUPERVISOR PARKER with his clipboard)

(PARKER takes the coffee prepared for LUKE on the fly as he breezes past, takes a stance of clipboard held out and other hand on hip)

PARKER: "The test results are in and..."

DRUE (Under breath): "Whatever..."

PARKER: "At the top of the scale for promotion for factory floor manager is..."

(EVERYONE EXCEPT FOR LUKE (who is continuing to look for nuts and bolts to sweep up) IS WAITING ON PARKER'S NEXT WORDS)

PARKER:  "Drue Hill!"

BOB: (Slamming fists on coffee station table) BULLSHIT!!!

(DRUE looks ecstatic while JULES tries to restrain BOB's furor!)

PARKER: "Drue, please finish your work day and then report tomorrow at Personnel for relocation training."

(PARKER holds out the "Brown" coffee prepared for LUKE under his nose and leads him off stage with it... A single piece of paper falls from PARKER's clipboard just before he exits left)

(BOB runs over, picks up the paper, makes a show of reading it and then turns gape-mouthed towards the remaining cast)

DRUE & JULES (in unison): What?!

BOB: They tested brown-coffee retard...

JULES: Oh, shit... Is he fired?!

BOB (Peering again at paper before saying): If a big "EYES ONLY" stamp means "fired" then yeah, I guess...

LIGHTS FADE OUT

SCENE TWO:

LIGHTS FADE IN TO REVEAL A SMALL, INDUSTRIAL-GREEN PAINTED ROOM AT CENTER STAGE. THE BACK WALL CONTAINS A MIRROR (it is a sheet of reflective material that can quickly be pulled down by hidden staff members)

(LUKE, head slumped, but now dressed in a hospital gown, is chained to the floor by his ankles in the middle of the room.)

(A side door opens and two soldiers leads a goat (the goat is a puppet controlled by puppeteers up in the rigging) into the room. The soldiers advance to either side of LUKE, draw their guns, and point them at his head.)

LOUDSPEAKER VOICE: DO NOT DO TO IT WHAT YOU DID THE LAST TIME FOR GOD'S-SAKE... YOU ONLY NEED TO CLEANLY KILL IT...

(LUKE'S head snaps up and his eyes focus on the goat)

LOUDSPEAKER VOICE: WE ONLY NEED KIM AND HIS LIKE TO KEEL OVER... NOT TURN INSIDE-OUT...

LOUDSPEAKER VOICE: TIMER ACTIVATED!

(LUKE's eyes narrow in on the goat and his brow furrows as he concentrates.)

(The goat shudders and then leaps at the mirror, it falls back down, it leaps again, controlled by the puppeteers, the "mirror" is pulled down by the hidden staff as they throw out plastic chips of transparent "glass" through the gap and a glass-smashing sound effect is played by the sound technician. The goat falls back onto the stage, "unconscious")

(Revealed behind the mirror are two men dressed in lab-coats. They are actors with tubes to pour blood from their heads, over their faces, hidden under their wigs. They have a bulb in their hands to squeeze and control when the blood comes out from under their wigs.)

SCIENTIST #1: INITIATE RAT-TRAP PROTOCO...

(LUKE whirls towards the speaking scientist and squints his eyes... Scientist #1's eyes roll up in his head as the blood pours out from under his wig and he collapses)

(Scientist #2 watches this happen in horror)

(Both soldiers draw their pistols and point them at LUKE from each side of him)

(LUKE glances at both soldiers quickly and then closes his eyes and furrows his brow in concentration)

(Both soldiers fire their guns and collapse backwards, dead, hit by the bullets that LUKE has bent around himself)

(Scientist #2 tries to run to STAGE RIGHT but LUKE turns towards him and goes rigid. Scientist #2 collapses out of sight as blood pours out from under his wig.)

(LUKE straddles the gap of the "smashed" open window and exits STAGE RIGHT while alarms start to sound and red lights flash)

LIGHTS FADE OUT

Sinitrena


Baron


Mandle

Quote from: Baron on Sat 08/06/2019 17:11:06
Who is this mysteriously prompt stranger?!?  ;)

Yes... I'm excited when writing my own stories and lazy when it comes to reading other people's stories at times.

I know that's not fair but sometimes I get distracted when voting is happening and the rush of writing my own story has already passed.

I try though, and often fail.

Mandle

I thought I would leave my play with the last reveal that LUKE had been recruited as a psychic soldier in the same program that "Men Who Stare At Goats" was set in...

But, over the last few days, I re-imagined the story beyond that point, and so I have updated the script above.

There are some direction lines that have changed to explain how the effects will take place live on stage so please re-read if possible.

Baron

Love's Luckless Lackey

The following is almost certainly a fragment of Love's Luckless Lackey, a romantic comedic play mentioned in other texts but sadly not surviving to the present day.  It was written by Agnes C. Willis, a former seamstress and aspiring playwright of approximately 48 years.  It is unknown how long she worked on the script, but the text seems to have been completed in late spring of 1900.  Miss Willis persuaded John W. Houghton, an impresario of some notoriety, to stage the play at the Grand Oleander Theater in her native Galveston, Texas.  The following exchange takes place between two friends, apparently commiserating in a saloon: 

Dutton?:              ...was but a lad of fifteen
                 You reckon'd on stumblin' between
                 A life of fame 'n' fortune golden
                 T' no lady enslaved; no man beholden
                 But looky now, John Lee Carney
                 You've got debts in both love n' money!

Carney:      I ain't done called you friend these years
                 To piss on me when I've no cheer
                 So lest you got no 'spiring words
                 Head on back to them rangin' herds

Dutton:      Buck up, buttercup!  I can't bear
                 To see a friend so pruned by care
                 You're like a mustang on the range
                 Whose strength were sapped by age and mange
                  These worries have done brought you low
                 But in the end you oughtta know
                 No matter how the trail might wend
                 I'll always be there for you friend.

Carney:      I know, Dutton.  Thy words might err
                 But your some kinda pardner rare
                 What stays through storm and pox and drought
                 You're my truest friend, I've no doubt

Dutton:      Then listen here, stop your wallowin'
                 Self-piteous whiskey swallowin'
                 Get back up in that saddle high
                 And make it right, the time is nigh!

Carney:      That ship is sailed, that train be missed
                 That egg is cracked, that skunk is pissed
                 That money's spent, that bell is rung
                 That glass is broke, that trap is sprung
                 That man is hanged, quartered and drawn
                 That bridge is burnt, that girl is gone.

Dutton:      That train don't leave till half-past eight
                 And Lucille, on it, might yet wait
                 And Grayson with his ill-got gains
                 Will be a-riding that same train
                 So get on yer horse and ride it down
                 'Fore it gets too far out of town!

Carney:      My love and hate trundlin' away
                 Me, just an empty shell in th' Bay....

Dutton:      Spineless, gutless, weepin' git!
                 Get out there and-

Carney:                                -Consarn it!
                 I lost!  I bet high, and I crashed!
                 My soul is crushed.  My hopes are dashed.
                 There ain't be nothin' gonna come
                 From some last-ditched gallant charge dumb.

Dutton:      That's it, then?  Yer resigned to be
                 A footnote in Lucille's hist'ry?
                 An empty husk in the abyss
                 Dripping vinegar and piss?
                 What are you afraid of, Carney?
                 She might say no?  Or might say yea?

Carney:      Damn it, Dutton!  Respect my woe.
                 I'll bust yer head if'ya push me so!

Dutton (aside):   There's some steam in his engine yet,
                  Maybe somma powder's not wet...
        (aloud)  I heard ol' Grayson had an eye
                  When purdy Lucille's a-dancin' spry
                  I would-no' be half-surprised
                  To hear 'twas all a plan devised
                  O' his, t'be on that very train
                  Where Lucille rode, alone in pain
                  A broken heart on her sleeve wound
                  To a-score her on the rebound!

Carney:      Damn you, Dutton!  Them's fightin' words!
         
Barkeep:    No shootin' in my bar, you turds!

Dutton:      Save your bullets for the road
                 You be right, there's a debt owed
                 By yer arse to the saddle hard
                 For Lucille, yer love cross-starred!
                 Enough of yer sorrow and pride
                 Let's chase 'em down, friend.  Let's ride!
         
Sadly that is all that survives.  We can only presume that Carney was persuaded to gallop after the lovely Lucille and the antagonistic Grayson.  The play seems to have been well-received on its opening night on Friday September 7, 1900, according to a partial review recovered from The Daily News published the following morning.  The play was almost certainly in the process of being performed the following evening when the city of Galveston, Texas was struck by the great hurricane of 1900.  Although records are patchy, the theatre district was entirely obliterated by the storm surge and all present were almost certainly killed.

Sinitrena

(The stage is dark for several minutes. Suddenly, a bright spot appears, illuminating a human-sized Blue Cup.)

:): I am here to announce that this competition will soon draw to a close. Therefore, it is my immense pleasure to remind everybody to get their entries in!

(As suddenly as the light turned on, it disappears again.)

JudasFm

Mine's nearly done! It's just a bit of a long one  :-D Okay, done! This is the penultimate scene in the play. I'm not sure how well it works but I had a lot of fun writing it, and it gave me more characters to use in future rounds which is never a bad thing  (laugh) I did originally try and lay it out like a normal script (lines centered, stage directions justified) but it turned out to be too hard to read on a screen.

CONFESSION

SCENE: Tengoku Host Club â€" Floor

The club's closed, tables bereft of the usual drinks. The bar's dark and shut up. HIKARI is sitting with SHUYA at one of the tables. Both flicking through phones. Hikari's got a lit cigarette in the other hand.

The door to the club opens and KAWAMOTO enters, closely followed by TAIYOU. Hikari doesn't look up.

HIKARI
He alone?

TAIYOU
Yeah.

Taiyou slams the door shut behind them and leans against it. Kawamoto jumps and spins around.

TAIYOU
Problem?

Kawamoto swallows hard.

KAWAMOTO
Uh...no.

Hikari stops playing with his phone and sets it to one side on the table, indicates the chair opposite.

HIKARI
Have a seat.

Kawamoto does so, glancing around nervously.

HIKARI
(indicating phone)
You don't mind if I record this, right?

KAWAMOTO
Ah...n-no, that's fine.

Silence.

HIKARI
So? What d'you want now? I didn't kill Kouji. None of us did.

KAWAMOTO
Uh, no. No, we know that.

Hikari laughs while Taiyou and Shuya exchange do-you-believe-this-shit looks.

HIKARI
You know, huh? What, you just gonna take my word for it with no proof?

KAWAMOTO
(oops)
Well...that is...

HIKARI
Fuck me, you really are a rookie, aren't you?

KAWAMOTO
It's, well, it's about Kouji that I want to-

His cell rings, cutting him off.

HIKARI
Who's that?

Kawamoto takes out his phone and looks at it. Rejects the call.

KAWAMOTO
No one. Did Kouji ever meet up with patrons outside the club?

TAIYOU
Not on the day he was killed. Patron couldn't kill him anyway.

KAWAMOTO
What do you mean?

Taiyou shrugs.

TAIYOU
We grew up together. He had his fair share of fights. Ain't no way some patron would've got the jump on him.

KAWAMOTO
Then could it have been revenge?

TAIYOU
Doubt it. This were back in Kyoto. We come to Tokyo two years ago to get away from that life, so he wouldn'ta picked up any new enemies here.

Kawamoto's phone rings again. He rejects the call and looks from one host to the other. Settles on Hikari.

KAWAMOTO
Did you know this?

HIKARI
Course. I don't usually hire people like that, but they'd come a long way and I figured Kouji was serious about getting out that life, so I gave him and Taiyou a chance. My one act of charity.

Kawamoto's phone rings again. He grimaces and picks it up, answering this time without looking at the screen.

KAWAMOTO
Look, I'm in the middle of something! Call me back, okay?
(beat, then he gets an "Oh SHIT" look on his face)
Mom? Mom, now's not really...I just...
(beat. Kawamoto surrenders to the inevitable)
Alright...Yes...Yes, I got it. Trash bags and milk. I'll stop off at Lawson's on the way home...No, I don't need to make a list! Goodbye!

He hangs up. All three hosts are now grinning like it's Christmas come early.

SHUYA
How old're you?

KAWAMOTO
Uh...twenty four.

The grins get a little bigger.

SHUYA
And you still live with your mom?

TAIYOU
Lame.

KAWAMOTO
Look, can we please justâ€"

His phone rings again.

KAWAMOTO (CONT'D)
Oh, for…

SHUYA
It's okay, go ahead. She probably wants you to get some eggs.

KAWAMOTO
It's my partner. He's been trying to get hold of me.
(Glances at Hikari)
Uh…

Hikari shrugs and waves his hand in a 'sure' gesture. Kawamoto answers the phone.

KAWAMOTO
What is it?

Lights go on in the upper part of the stage, revealing a much smaller version of Kawamoto and Ueda's office. Ueda's at his desk, staring at the PC.

UEDA
You alone?

KAWAMOTO
What? No, I'm with Hikari and the others.

Ueda runs a hand through his hair.

UEDA
What others?

KAWAMOTO
Well, Taiyou and Shuya.

Ueda jerks upright in his seat.

UEDA
Get out of there.

KAWAMOTO
Huh? Why?

The three hosts are watching him now. Narrow-eyed. No longer smiling. Taiyou shifts his weight slightly. Kawamoto doesn't see him.

UEDA
It's Shuya. I knew I'd seen that kid before. We just got a match for those fingerprints on the leaflet. Real name: Shigeyama Kazuya. Wanted for murder in Osaka. He stabbed his uncle to death when he was twelve, stole his money and went on the run.

Ueda pulls his jacket on one-handed, scrambling for the door. Kawamoto stares at Shuya and squirms on his chair, trying to inch away without being too obvious.

KAWAMOTO
He wha-a-a-t?

UEDA
I notified the local police and they're on their way. I'll be there as soon as I can, but you have to get out!

KAWAMOTO
Uh. Yeah.

He ends the call and puts the phone back in his pocket, never taking his eyes off Shuya.

SHUYA
What?

Kawamoto moistens his lips.

KAWAMOTO
Are you...Shigeyama Kazuya?

The effect is electric; Shuya catapults himself off the chair and away from Kawamoto, heading for the door. Kawamoto leaps to his feet and starts to give chase, but Taiyou grabs him, holding him in place as Shuya wrenches open the door.

Exit Shuya, stage left.

HIKARI
Taiyou!

Taiyou glares at Hikari and doesn't move or release Kawamoto.

TAIYOU
The fuck you yellin' at me for?

HIKARI
Shuya's escaped. You wanna be sent down for assaulting a detective? Let him go!

Long pause while their eyes lock and Kawamoto flinches in Taiyou's grasp. At last, Taiyou looks away and releases him.

Kawamoto runs to the door Shuya escaped through and opens it. Looks through, then closes it again.

HIKARI
How'd you find his name?

Kawamoto returns to the table, but doesn't sit down.

KAWAMOTO
Fingerprints. On the leaflets we found next to Kouji's body...we got fingerprints off them.

He frowns, shakes his head slightly. Something doesn't add up.

TAIYOU
That ain't possible.

KAWAMOTO
I know he's your friend and you want to protect him, but...

TAIYOU
(cutting in)
No, it really ain't possible. Shuya ain't done catch duty for ages.
(to Hikari)
Right?

Hikari sits down at the table and stubs out his cigarette before answering.

HIKARI
'Sright. Last time he did it was about two or three years ago.

KAWAMOTO
But he could have got the leaflets, right?

HIKARI
Sure, but why would he kill Kouji? They were friends.

KAWAMOTO
Where do you keep the leaflets?

Hikari jerks a thumb toward the bar counter.

HIKARI
Right over there. Help yourself.

Kawamoto crosses to the counter, giving Taiyou rather a wide berth, and picks up the topmost leaflet.

KAWAMOTO
No, sorry, I meant the ones you give out to people on the street.

HIKARI
That's them.

KAWAMOTO
No, I meant...

He gives up and digs out his phone, flicks through it and shows it to Hikari.

KAWAMOTO
See? I took a picture. These were the leaflets left on the body.

Hikari takes the phone and frowns, then hands it back.

HIKARI
Oh, that's the old design.
(takes out his cigarettes, lights up)
I changed it about six months ago.

Kawamoto stares at him. His world's starting to fall down around him. Slowly, he sits down on the bar stool, takes out his phone and stares at it. Closes his eyes, puts it back in his pocket.

KAWAMOTO
You need to get out of here.

TAIYOU
What?

KAWAMOTO
The police are on their way. I'll handle things here, just get out. You don't want to be mixed up in this.

HIKARI
Maybe you've forgotten, but we got pretty well mixed up in it when one of us got stabbed to death!

Kawamoto stares at him. Halfway to crying now, because he knows.

KAWAMOTO
Just go!

Taiyou and Hikari exchange looks, then both head for the same door Shuya left by and exit.

Kawamoto picks up a leaflet, then lets it flutter back to the ground. Gets up, moves to the table and sits down. Waiting.

SFX: A car pulls up outside.

The entrance door opens. Enter UEDA. He looks around, seeing no one but Kawamoto. Goes to the door leading to the street, opens it. Closes it again. (NB: for most of this conversation, Kawamoto speaks in a dull monotone).

UEDA
Where're the hosts?

KAWAMOTO
(shrugs)
No idea.

Ueda whirls on him.

UEDA
What do you mean, no idea? They were with you, weren't they?

KAWAMOTO
How did you know which door to go through?

UEDA
(baffled)
What?

Kawamoto half turns his head to look at him.

KAWAMOTO
In Kouji's apartment. We arrived at the crime scene together, but when I tried to go through the wrong door, you corrected me. How did you know?

Ueda frowns. He continues searching the club â€" opening door to Hikari's office, peering behind the bar and under tables etc â€" but is very slowly moving closer to Kawamoto.

UEDA
I didn't, I guessed.

KAWAMOTO
(bitter laugh)
I'm green but I'm not that green. You didn't guess, Ueda. You knew.

Ueda gives up on the search as Kawamoto stands and moves over to the bar. Both men are half-circling each other, neither wanting to get too close to the other.

UEDA
So now...what? You think I'm a murderer because I knew which room Kouji was in? It wasn't my fingerprints they found on the leaflets!

Kawamoto snatches up a fistful of leaflets from the bar and hurls them at Ueda.

KAWAMOTO
You mean these leaflets?

Ueda picks up one of the leaflets and glances at it. Freezes.

UEDA
This…

KAWAMOTO
They changed the design. Whoever killed Kouji must have been planning it for a while.

UEDA
So they changed the design. Shuya works here! He could've gotten them at any time.

KAWAMOTO
But Shuya only committed one crime that we know of, and he was never caught. How could anyone have matched his fingerprints to those on the leaflet? His fingerprints aren't on file!

UEDA
Yeah, but…

KAWAMOTO
(cutting across, looking around)
Where are the police?

UEDA
Police?

KAWAMOTO
You said you called the local police before you left. They're a lot closer than you were. If you called them before leaving, why aren't they here yet?

UEDA
How the fuck should I know!

KAWAMOTO
You're a detective. Trained, like me. A normal person might not have been able to get the drop on Kouji, but you could.

(FX: the lights around the club dim, so that the audience only see Ueda and Kawamoto at the table)

UEDA
(sighs, sits down at the table)
Even if you could persuade someone to listen to this crazy fantasy of yours, you don't have any proof.

Kawamoto draws his gun and points it at Ueda. His hand's shaking visibly.

UEDA
What the hell do you think you're doing?!

KAWAMOTO
Did you kill Kouji?

UEDA
Enough already! This is…

KAWAMOTO
(yelling)
Did you kill him?

Long, long silence. Ueda leans back in his chair, never taking his eyes off Kawamoto.

UEDA
What if I did?

Kawamoto squeezes his eyes shut. Devastated.

UEDA
They're scum. All of them. My last partner got himself killed by one of 'em.

KAWAMOTO
(quiet, broken)
But not any of the ones in this club.

UEDA
(shrugs)
So?

KAWAMOTO
So? So you're a detective! You're supposed to uphold the law, not break it!

UEDA
(snorts)
Still the naive kid, huh? We arrest people, we put 'em away and then they're walking free not three weeks later. Kouji had previous. Fights, burglary, he even put a few people in hospital when he was running wild in Kyoto. You think we should let someone like that loose on the streets of Tokyo?

KAWAMOTO
That doesn't give you the right to kill him!

UEDA
(sighs)
One less street punk...who's gonna know? Who's even gonna care?

Long silence. Ueda reaches inside his jacket for his own gun, but doesn't draw it.

UEDA
What now?

Kawamoto looks up at him. Tears. Betrayed by the person he looked up to the most. He sets his gun down, and Ueda smiles a little.

UEDA
That's what I thought.

Kawamoto picks up Hikari's cell phone from the table and pushes the button to stop recording.

KAWAMOTO
Thank you for your confession.

The smile drains off Ueda's face.

UEDA
What?

Kawamoto gets to his feet. Hating every second of this.

KAWAMOTO
Shinji Ueda, you're under arrest.

UEDA
(re: cell phone)
That's not admissible as evidence.

KAWAMOTO
Then you've nothing to worry about.

Ueda draws his gun and aims it at Kawamoto's chest.

UEDA
If you think you can arrest me by yourself, then...

(SFX: breaking glass)

Ueda falls to the ground as the club lights come back on, revealing Hikari standing there with a broken bottle in his hand.

HIKARI
(off the bottle)
Ah shit. Hundred thousand yen, down the drain.

KAWAMOTO
What are you doing here?

Hikari shrugs, sets the bottle down on the table.

HIKARI
Forgot my phone.

He holds out his hand for it. Kawamoto draws away.

KAWAMOTO
I'm sorry; I need it for evidence. I'll make sure you get it back afterwards.

He moves next to Hikari. Both look down at Ueda's unconscious body.

HIKARI
Didn't think you'd have it in you to arrest your own partner.

KAWAMOTO
(beat, then he looks at Hikari)
You came back to help me?

Hikari shrugs, not looking at him.

HIKARI
Yeah, well. Myâ€"

KAWAMOTO
â€"one act of charity, yeah, I get it.

Blackout.

End of scene.

-

Definitions
catch duty: Slang. Basically, the person on catch duty is the one responsible for standing outside a club or restaurant, handing out leaflets and trying to entice passers-by into visiting.
Host club: A place where women pay to have good-looking young men flirt and drink with them and generally make them feel like the most desirable woman in the room. The hosts get a hefty commission on any drinks their lady buys. Some host clubs are classy, others are decidedly not. Club Tengoku falls very much in the latter category ;) Not illegal - assuming they don't have sex for money, which is something most hosts go out of their way to avoid - but many Japanese people tend to look down on hosts and hostesses.

Mandle

"You're like a mustang on the range
Whose strength were sapped by age and mange"

I died.

Baron

Consarn it!  Mandle done up and died, right before the voting was about to be proceedin'!   8-0

Sinitrena

And that's a wrap. Everyone, come back on stage, bow, receive your applause...

These are the nominees for AGS Theater Price:

Nuts and Bolts by Mandle
Love's Luckless Lackey by Baron
Confession by JudasFm


We vote in categories:

Most Distinct Voice: Which writer managed to give their characters different voices, making them distinct even though they are - on a piece of paper (on the screen) - just talking heads?
Best Play: Through the use of stage directions and spoken words, who managed to let the stage come to life?
Best Writing: This is not different from the usual writing category. Through use of figures of speech or other means of writing, who created images in your mind?
Best Plot: Who told a story that was engaging, interessting, suspensful, funny, and so on? Which play was not just a scene but a story?

You have one vote per category and voting ends 23. June.

JudasFm

Most Distinct Voice: Baron. I didn't feel like Mandle's characters stood out much; their personalities were too similar. I did like Loudspeaker Voice's version of orders though ("DO NOT DO TO IT WHAT YOU DID THE LAST TIME FOR GOD'S SAKE" really made me grin).
Best Play: Mandle. It was a bit clunky (scripts don't explain how to get blood effects etc, although I took this in the spirit of showing that it's possible on a stage and thus keeping in the spirit of the competition) but I could imagine everything.
Best Writing: Again, Mandle. Baron's made it seem like there were two people just standing on a stage with no background, no actions, just 'talking heads' (are the characters drinking, ordering more drinks, sitting down, standing up, what are they doing?)
Best Plot: Baron. Maybe it was because Mandle's entry was at the very beginning, but I didn't really get what was going on. (I did do a bit of research and found The Men Who Stare At Goats, which seems to have inspired this? Or maybe I'm reading too much into it). Anyway, Baron gets this vote; he made an easy-to-follow story, or part of one, and he made me want to read on.

Baron

Most Distinct Voice: I'm going with Mandle.  All his characters were extremely well differentiated, even his three workers  (Jules was the nice-guy, Drue the cynic, Bob the jerk).  I struggled a bit differentiating the hosts from each other in JudasFm's piece.

Best Play: I felt Mandle had the more creative stage ideas (the mirror for example), while JudasFm had the better stage directions (light narrowing to set mood and focus, adversaries circling each other).  The thing that tips me towards giving my vote to Mandle is his ambition to push the envelope away from convention (his use of special effects, for example), but also his use of clear formatting.  I kept getting confused with JudasFm's script trying to differentiate stage directions from speech, which broke the atmosphere for me. 

Best Writing:   I'm voting JudasFm.  Mandle had some wild and zany things going on, but I felt he rushed some great opportunities for lines (i.e. where's the one-liner delivered by Luke when he escapes, telling you he really is a genius or really is dim-witted or, better yet, leaves you wondering thereafter?  ;) ).  JudasFm used concise language to dramatic effect, which I felt suited the characters and atmosphere well.

Best Plot: I think it's gotta be JudasFm for a suspense-filled scene.  Mandle's play was ambitious to say the least, but in wrenching the viewer so quickly from one extreme to the other I feel some of the plot arc was lost on me.


JudasFm

Quote from: Baron on Sat 22/06/2019 00:15:26
b]Best Play:[/b]I kept getting confused with JudasFm's script trying to differentiate stage directions from speech, which broke the atmosphere for me. 

Yeah, that was a serious screw up on my part :) Like I said, I originally set it out script-style, with lines centered and stage directions left-justified, but when I previewed it, it turned out really hard to read. If everyone was reading this site on their phone, it would've worked, but I wasn't about to take that risk. I did think about going back and reformatting the setting in much the same style as Mandle, but I think I barely squeaked in by the deadline as it was, and I always feel that editing an entry after submission (barring those times when I forget to turn the italics off) isn't quite fair (laugh)

cat

Most Distinct Voice: JudasFm Kawamoto was a bit boring, I think Hikari and Ueda really stood out. I could see them acting in my imagination.
Best Play: Again, JudasFm. I could really imagine where doors open, people enter and leave, walk around, and the light setting. I liked Mandle's part 1 a lot, but I think part 2 was rather meh. I don't like special effects in theater, most of the time they look ridiculous and I didn't get what this was about anyway.
Best Writing: This one goes to Baron. I also like that you invented a back story why there is only one scene left.
Best Plot: JudasFm I just love murder mystery stories.

Mandle

Wow, time flies...

I will add comments later and simply vote now to avoid missing the *GASP* 3 day deadline for voting.

Most Distinct Voice: Baron
Best Play: JudasFm
Best Writing: Baron
Best Plot: JudasFm

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