Death of a Lecturer; Episode 2

Back by popular demand.

SCENE 2 - EXT. OUTSIDE UNIVERSITY. AFTERNOON

HARRIET and DAVID sitting on a brick wall outside the lecture theatre. There is no sign of the police but there is noise coming from the theatre. The theatre is visible in the right of the screen, and there are a few buildings behind them.

Harriet: (quietly). Are you ok?

David: Yes.

Harriet: How did she die?

David: (pause). I think she was murdered.

Harriet: Why?

David: Unless she was flexible enough to stab herself in the back I think it’s the most likely conclusion.

Harriet: How did you know something was up?

David: (brightening). Ah! (with French accent). I used the little grey cells.

Harriet: I didn’t know you read Christie. I didn’t know you read anything. I thought you were illiterate.

David: (bristling). I’ll have you know my parents were married way before I was born!

Harriet: I… oh never mind. How did you know she was there?

David: Easy. I saw her car. If her car was here, then she must have been here. Elementary my dear Watson.

Harriet: On to Conan Doyle now are we? I must admit though that was pretty clever of you.

David: I told you I wasn’t as dumb as I looked.

Harriet: You were eating a coaster at the time.

David: That’s irrelevant.

(There is a brief silence).

David (cont’d): The crime must have been premeditated.

Harriet: You surprise me. I didn’t realise you knew such big words. Do you know what premeditated means?

David: No, but it makes me feel smart and important.

Harriet: It means that whoever killed her had planned it.

David: Then it must have been premeditated. Only two people could have put up the sign saying that classes were cancelled; the lecturer in which case she would be sick rather than dead, or the murderer who knew she was dead.

Harriet: You’ve got it.

David: (pauses thoughtfully). Is it possible to have a postmeditated crime?

Harriet: (bewildered). What?

David: A crime that was planned after it was committed.

Harriet: I don’t think so. It would take a pretty special person to do that.

David: True. (thinks). I suppose she could have been sick after all?

Harriet: When last I checked, a knife wound to the back wasn’t classed as an illness. It’s more of a misadventure.

David: True. You’re much smarter than I am.

Harriet: That’s not very hard.

David: (offended). I’ll have you know I’m the smartest person in my family.

Harriet: Dear god.

David: (continuing to rant). It’s been very difficult for my family to work their way up to their current position, and education hasn’t been the main priority. When my grandfather came to this country all he had was a coat and a small goatee.

Harriet: Really? How did he survive?

David: He passed himself off as a goat.

Harriet: (slumping down onto the ground). I shouldn’t have asked.

David: It’s quite logical really.

Harriet: He’s as mad as you are.

David: You see, he already looked like a goat.

Harriet: (wearily). I see.

David: And he was quite the actor.

Harriet: I’m beginning to despair of life.

David: So what better way to keep fed and watered then to join a goat herd and keep a low profile. (he finishes triumphantly).

Harriet: (staring at him in amazement). Does insanity run in your family?

David: (laughing) Nobody runs in my family.

Harriet: I see. Where was your father when your pop was masquerading as a goat?

David: Oh, he was just a kid at the time.

(Harriet hits her head against the brick wall).

David (cont’d): Why are you doing that?

Harriet: It’s less painful this way. Look, let’s get back to the matter at hand.

David: Which is?

Harriet: The murder.

David: Oh yeah. Well, I don’t see what we can do.

Harriet: Well, with my brains and your…

(She looks at him; he stares vacantly back)

Harriet (cont’d): …with my brains I’m sure we can solve the mystery.

David: Why?

Harriet: Why not?

(They sit in silence. David draws an apple out of his bag and begins to eat).

Harriet (cont’d): David?

David: Mmmm?

Harriet: I’m afraid to ask, but…how long did your grandfather pass for a goat.

David: Two years.

Harriet: Two years? How could he disguise himself for that long?

David: Well, the goatherd humoured him for the first 18 months but eventually he paid pop to go away.

Harriet: There’s method in his madness.

David: (taking a bite of the apple). Or madness in his method.

Harriet: (cautiously). You do know that’s Shakespeare, don’t you?

David: Of course. Hamlet.

Harriet: (thankfully). There is a God.

David: One of the best filmmakers of all time.

Harriet: Who?

David: Shakespeare. Apple?

(Offers Harriet an apple. She looks at it carefully).

Harriet: No thanks. It might be contagious.

David: What might?

Harriet: Never mind.

(David continues to eat).

David: You know what I think?

Harriet: We’re back to that are we?

David: I think it might be rather fun to investigate this murder. We don’t have anything better to do.

Harriet: Then we feel exactly the same way?

David: (looks mournfully at his apple core). Not exactly.

(He throws it away).

David (cont’d): I’m still hungry.

 (A policeman approaches; Inspector Gregor).

Gregor: Excuse me kids. I believe you found the body.

Harriet: That’s right.

Gregor: May I have a word with you both?

Death of a Lecturer; Episode 1

This is an attempt at a script I made many years ago for Script Frenzy. Shall post it episodically.

Enjoy.

Samwise

SCENE 1 - INT. CAFÉ. AFTERNOON

Two young people, a girl and a boy, sitting in a café on a university campus.

The girl HARRIET, is reading a book and drinking coffee. The boy is staring absently into space. They are both sitting at a square table; opposite each other but not facing each other. There are other tables around the café, with other students sitting at them and talking.).

(Long silence)

David: There are too many American shows on television.

Harriet: (without taking her eyes from the book). Of course there are.

(Another long silence).

David: (hesitantly). Too many American movies too.

Harriet: (still reading). Mmmm.

(Yet another silence).

David: I went to the library today, but all the books I needed were gone.

Harriet: (still reading). Mmmm.

(Long silence. Harriet glances cautiously at David, holds her gaze, then looks back to her book.)

David: (suddenly). Do you know what I think?

Harriet: (slams her book shut angrily). Oh for god’s sake, what?!

David: (oblivious). Oh, what book are you reading?

Harriet: (irritated). I don’t know, I haven’t made it past the first sentence yet.

David: Why?

Harriet: Because someone keeps interrupting me.

David: Oh. (pauses). Who?

Harriet: (sighs). You’re not terribly bright, are you?

David: (unfazed). My dad always told me I’m one stick short of… a whole bunch of sticks.

Harriet: (sarcastically). Your dad is wealth of wisdom.

David: Really?

Harriet: (patiently). Do you know what sarcasm is?

David: Of course. It’s a big hole in the ground.

Harriet: I’ve known you for a grand total of two weeks, and without a doubt you are the strangest person I’ve ever met.

David: Why thank you. It’s just like my grandfather always says.

Harriet: What does he say?

David: (stares into space with a vacant expression). Nothing actually. He’s mute.

(Harriet bangs her head on the table in frustration).

David (cont’d): Are you ok?

Harriet: (dryly). Yes. I always hit my head on tables. It’s good for my digestion.

David: (picking up a biscuit). Of course it’s not. Don’t be ridiculous. You know, (bites biscuit), I’m not as dumb as I look.

Harriet: (wearily) David?

David: Yes?

Harriet: You’re eating a coaster.

David: (looks at it). So I am. (puts it down).

Harriet: (muttering) All the intelligence of a gnat.

David: I wouldn’t say anything, Miss ten-minutes-late-to-class.

Harriet: (looks at watch) Oh god. (runs out).

 (David looks smug. Harriet re-enters).

Harriet (cont’d): David?

David: Yes?

Harriet: You’re in my class.

(David’s smugness disappears and he runs out past Harriet who shakes her head).

Scene change. Outside lecture theatre. Big sign on door saying; Classes cancelled due to illness.

David: Lecturer must sick.

Harriet: (dryly). Brilliant Holmes. Your astuteness amazes me.

David: (brightly). Thank you.

Harriet: (ignores him). Now what do we do?

David: (pauses). We could run around loose on campus?

Harriet: Why?

David: Whenever I don’t know what to do I run around in circles until I hit something.

Harriet: Do you do this often?

David: (thoughtfully). Strangely enough, yes.

(They begin to walk away from the lecture theatre).

Harriet: Tell me, were you dropped as child?

David: Possibly.

Harriet: Or thrown?

David: (emphatically) Oh, quite possibly.

Harriet: (pauses). Does it offend you that I think you’re so weird?

David: Not at all. Imagine how boring I’d be if I were normal. It’s like my grandfather always says… (he stops). Something isn’t right.

Harriet: What?

(David doesn’t respond but runs back to the lecture theatre followed by Harriet. He enters, then exits abruptly and grabs hold of Harriet).

David: Don’t go in there. Call the police.

Harriet: What for?

David: The lecturer. She’s dead.

Humour, thy name is boredom.

A selection of writings that came to me while I was working. I really have too much time on my hands. Special credit given to Todd Backhouse and Nathan Hartley King for their assistance with certain rhyming words.

Doctor Suess meets My Dinner With Andre

The scene: a Chinese restaurant in the suburbs. A couple are sitting down in dim, romantic lighting at a table for two by the window. They both have menus. The young man has straight, angular features, dark hair and the look of someone who, successful though he may be, has never cooked a meal in his life. His companion is an elegant, blonde woman dripping in jewellery, perfume and other signs of the terminally wealthy.

Scene 1.

Enter waiter.

Waiter: I am Sam. Sam I am. Can I take your order ma’am?

Woman: I think I’ll have green curried lamb. I’ve never tried it Sam I Am.

Waiter: (incredulous) You’ve never tried green curried lamb?

Woman: That’s what I just said, Sam I Am.

Waiter: (writing) One serving of green curried lamb. (Turns to man). Will sir partake of curried lamb?

Man: I do not like green curried lamb. One large fried rice please; hold the ham. (aside) I hear it’s really B-Grade spam.

Waiter: (affronted) I assure you sir, it isn’t spam. We only use the finest ham. So… (checking list) One serving of green curried lamb. One large fried rice without the ham. Would you like a roasted yam?

Woman: I’ve never tried a roasted yam.

Waiter: (shocked) You’ve never tried, green curried lamb , you’ve never tried a roasted yam…?

Woman: Yes! I’ve never had green curried lamb, I’ve never had a roasted yam, I’ve never been to Amsterdam, now get a move on Sam I Am!

Waiter: One serving of green curried lamb, one large fried rice without the ham, a complimentary roasted yam. I’d offer you green eggs and ham but copyright… you understand.

Scene 2.

Later that meal.

Enter waiter.

Waiter: Is there a problem with the food?

Man: (annoyed) There is a problem with the food, although I don’t want to be rude.

Woman: I do not like this so called ‘yam’, your finest ‘ham’ is worse than spam and I got beef instead of lamb.

Man: I can’t digest this beef black bean, the garlic chicken’s turning green and I suspect it’s Lean Cuisine.

Woman: I want you to take this food away. Take it all at once I say.

Waiter: Do you want a doggy bag? Come on now don’t be a drag. In Africa are children who would kill for food like I gave you.

Man: Don’t pressure us to take your ‘food’ unless you rather like being sued. I am a lawyer don’t you know, I’ll take your house if I want it so.

Waiter: (meekly) But think of the hungry, and the poor. Surely you could eat some more.

Woman: Very well, we’ll take the food, but I think your methods are quite crude.

Waiter: Very good ma’am, bless your heart. Your choice methinks is rather smart. Shall I add it to the bill? (They glare). Never mind, don’t think I will.

Song of Despair

Lyrics by Sam Cook

Music resembling that of ‘These Are a Few of My Favourite Things’ (not that I’d admit it in court).

Lawyers, solicitors, legal professions.

Football and cricket and other obsessions.

Ministers dancing in their underpants,

We still have to listen to Kyle Sanderlands

Tiny pink handbags and old ladies purses

(You think that my writers could write better verses)

People who don’t know how to pronounce ‘blouse’

Hugh Laurie’s American accent in ‘House’.

Chorus

Global warming, the recession, and Burt Newton’s hair.

Whenever I think of my least favourite things, it sends me into despair.

Writing song lyrics when you have to rhyme it

The things that are happening to the world’s climate

I have nothing else to do but sing this song.

The new finance minister is Penny Wong.

Chorus

Repeat until unfriendly looking Austrian man with extensive progeny enters. Commence pillow fight.

The Movie Song

Lyrics by Sam Cook

Tune; that of ‘If I Only Had a Brain’… just use your imagination.

I wouldn’t watch it when I’m bored, or even while I snored,

Nor in summer when it’s hot.

It could sell out the box office; it could take out all the Oscars

If it only had a plot.

Just because it has effects, occasional train wrecks,

It doesn’t mean a jot.

Though there’s action in abundance it could do with some more substance;

It could really use a plot.

Oh I, could tell you why,

I think this film is such a bore.

I don’t care if the score’s by Howard Shore,

Or even if it’s starring Demi Moore.

I could be dinning at The Towers, instead of spending hours,

Putting up with all this rot.

Though the camera may be shaky I still know that it’s a fakey

Cos it doesn’t have a plot.

Oh, why is it so?

Where could all the writing talent be?

No longer are they in the industry.

Or perhaps they all work for the ABC?

It was even worse than ‘Cars’, but I’ll still give two stars,

Which is really quite a lot.

On your backs you should be pattin', I gave more than David Stratton,

Even though it has no plot.

Employment, the national economy, communism and other big words I don't quite understand.

My boss has gone on holidays.

This is a rare event. My boss hardly ever takes time off. He works every day. He works every night. I’m not so sure he doesn’t sleep in the restaurant between shifts. He is Super-Boss.

That’s why his absence has induced some weird sort of panic amongst the staff. People who have been working there for over half a decade have suddenly started rushing around the kitchen trying to figure how to do things they’ve been doing for years.

It’s rather bizarre to watch.

He’s gone for two weeks. I can just see the state of the place on his return. Customers passed out on the floor from hunger. Kitchen on fire. The Blue Mountains panther sleeping on the tables, gently purring. We’ll probably have descended into some sort of Lord of the Flies scenario; we’ll have broken off into different tribes, taking pot-shots at each other across the rubble. We don’t actually have a pig’s head on a stick, but there’s plenty of meat about we can start worshipping.

That’s an idea. Perhaps we’ll break off into factions depending on what meat we prefer. My friend and I don’t eat pork or seafood, so perhaps we’ll be in the chicken tribe. Does that mean we have to hide under the sink? Or cluck?

This is all pure speculation of course. Hopefully it won’t come to this. I love my job. It’s strange to think that initially I was so reluctant to work.

I have rather an odd approach to employment. I could never see the point in it. The only reason I work at the moment is because a) I love what I do and b) it beats sitting around at home watching T.V. My parents have always told me; ‘You need to work so you can earn money’.

But here is my thought process.

Isn’t money just a human construct? Yes, we need money to buy things; food, clothing, shelter, labour… But why? Animals get on perfectly well without money. You don’t see them going out to work (except for workers bees, ants etc), or sitting in offices, or on phones saying “have you tried turning it off and on?” or serving dinner to hundreds of people, or filling out paper work… The list is endless. Why is it that humans have to make everything so complicated?

Look at nature; what work do animals do? Hunting. Gathering. Building shelters and nests. I’m not suggesting that the only real careers are in architecture or farming. I’m just saying – animals get on fine without money. They just deal with the necessities in life and get on with things.

I had a lot of time to think this over while at work the other night. I’ve been covering the boss’ shifts while he’s away. Don’t talk to me about Tuesdays. I thought sleeping was unproductive. Maybe our customers have caught word that the boss is on holidays and have been infected with the same needless panic that we have? Perhaps they think that because the boss isn’t working the food is somehow tainted and we’ll end up in a nervous heap by the end of the week, gnawing on our own feet and muttering to ourselves.

But I digress. As a stood around doing nothing I started to warm to my train of thought. If we work backwards from where humans are today (i.e. capitalist, superficial, hedonistic etc.) it raises an important question. Where did we start? Money must have been invented at some point. What did we do before that? That’s right – trading and bartering.

It’s nice to know that this noble art is still alive in the world to a degree. I’m not talking about exotic markets in the Pacific Islands, or remote mountain communities in Pakistan, or tribes in the Amazon as yet untouched by western ‘civilisation’. I’m talking about country towns on the South Coast of NSW such as the one my grandparents live in. I go down to see them when my parents and I have the time. Dad will come baring chillies which he grew himself. In exchange we get tomatoes or cucumbers. These are also provided to neighbours, who exchange them for fruits and vegetables.

It’s brilliant! If Australia’s economy came crashing down, this one town could still thrive all on its own. Why can’t we return to that; a self-sufficient community where everything is shared equally between the people? Sure it didn’t work out so well in Cuba, but they didn’t have cricket.

My point is this; existence is possible without money. We’d just have to give up our struggle for superiority over each other which unfortunately isn’t part of human nature (just look at war, politics and the midnight toy sale at Kmart).

I really don’t understand finance. There are people across the world who are living in poverty. Why can’t we just make more money for them? ‘That will throw off the whole economy’ some will say. But how? That’s just what I can’t understand. Surely the money most have been made in the first place? We didn’t just stumble across an entire economy conveniently buried in the desert. It didn’t just rain from the heavens. It’s not like coal and oil which will eventually run out. It’s made by people. Why can’t we just make enough for everyone?

What did I gain from this line of thought? A utopian ideal where the only work to do would simply be what was necessary; growing, tending, gathering and hunting for food and finding shelter. No money, no office jobs, no poverty. We’d take what we needed from the land to sustain ourselves, and we wouldn’t overstep the balance. Notice I’m describing traditional Aboriginal life; a culture that was thousands of years old until Europeans came and tried to make it as flashy and new as America.

I seem to have strayed from my original topic; but such is the way when one has nothing to do at work. Work and money still seem to me entirely unnecessary, but at least they fill in the hours. Maybe I could stick to an idea I mentioned to my friend. He’s just started a computer-repair business and I offered to help him with the advertising. I may have forced myself into his employment, and he said he couldn’t really use my help for anything, nor could he pay me. “It’s ok,” I said. “I’ll still be employed by you. I just won’t do any work, and you don’t have to pay me.”

Really, the arrangement is just too perfect.

A Concise History of History - Part 2

Chapter Two – The Dawn of Man

Lecture delivered by noted archaeologist and historian Professor J. J. Q. P. R. S. T. U. Nixon to his students at the University of South Melbourne.

Throughout the history of civilisation mankind has created many strange and wondrous things. Fire. The wheel. Poetry. Cathedrals. Bridges. The snuggie. I look around us today, and it’s a marvel to think how far we’ve come.

I want to talk to you today about early man. Who were they? Where did they come from? Where were they going in such a hurry? Why didn’t they pick up the milk on their way through? In short, we’re going to take a look at the first humans to grace this earth, and what exactly it was that made them human. Who knows? You may just learn something. Like the whereabouts of the milk.

Creation vs. Evolution – God vs. Darwin

No talk on humankind could begin without talking about the theories of creationism and evolution or ‘Darwinism’. Now we know all about creation. This is the theory that an all-powerful, all-seeing, all-knowing God created the universe and everything in it.

There are several flaws critics have found with this theory. The first, of course, is how on earth one being could create the entire universe? Especially in six days. All that talk of having the seventh day to rest is just ridiculous. I mean, there wouldn’t have been enough hours in the day. Think of the overtime he would have charged. Not to mention all the time spent sorting out OH&S. Imagine how difficult it would be to get work cover when you have that vast expanse of infinite nothingness to get injured in. Don’t talk to me about quasars.

But I digress.

Let us leave creationism at the moment, and look at evolution or ‘Darwinism’ as it is sometimes known. This is because evolution was discovered by a man named Charles who came from Darwin. Please, don’t interrupt, save your questions until the end.

Charles travelled to a group of islands west of South America called the Galapagos Archipelago, which as we all know is Spanish for Sou’ South West America. It is not, I have been informed, the name of an unaccompanied Mexican singing group. Now where was I? Yes madam I assure you I am a qualified lecturer. Please stop interrupting.

Now as I was saying, Charles from Darwin travelled to these islands and discovered that finches there had, on each separate island, developed different shaped beaks depending on what food was available to them. The most notable was a bird that had learnt how to pick up a cactus needle and mercilessly stab its food to death. Charles thought this was a bit excessive, especially because the bird’s main diet consisted of berries, but as a trained lawyer he appreciated its killer instinct and so it soon became his favourite species. He named it the Lawyerbird, which soon became the ‘Super Finch’ and much later appeared on American T.V. as the much loved children’s character ‘Big Bird’.

This, in a nutshell, is evolution. How it relates to the history of mankind I have momentarily forgotten. So I shall now progress, and let’s never speak of this again.

Monkey to Man and Back Again

Following on from the theory of evolution, it is evident that humans have descended from monkeys. Yes, sir, I mean monkeys. No, there is no such thing as apes. They’re just made up creatures from science fiction movies, invented to frighten children and destroy the Statue of Liberty. Now pay attention and stop gnawing on the desk, there’s a good fellow.

As I was saying, we all know that man has evolved from monkeys. Many is the time I’ve seen a boy climbing dexterously up a drain pipe to avoid the police, or seen a man swing from tree to tree on his tail, and thought “Ah yes. That is the result of evolution.”

But when did they first make the transition from mere animal into mere human? Well personally I think it was when early man first started using tools. Of course this is pure speculation; I don’t have a magic mirror into the past, and even if I did I’d have more interesting things to look at than cave men. But just imagine this scene. Two early humans are standing under a tree. In the tree is an apple. The apple is out of reach. The first man tries to climb the tree, without success. The second man, after careful deliberation, picks up a rock. He looks at the rock. Then the apple. Then the rock. Then the apple. Finally, he takes the rock, kills the other man, raids his home and steals his food.

This is the first example of humanity in action.

Intelligence in Man

Here we are seeing the first instances of sentience in man. But this was purely accidental. It wasn’t until many of the primitive humans had been killed off by their more thoughtful brethren that intelligence as we know it first began to rear its ugly, swollen, horrifying head.

It may have begun one day on a beautiful spring morning. A man wakes up early and leaves his cave to go hunting. But as he steps outside, something in his brain takes note of his surroundings. It is possibly a genetic variation or defect that makes him start analysing the world around him. Maybe he’s just sick of getting up with the sun every day to hunt and he’s trying to fend off boredom.

Whatever the reason he stops and thinks. Maybe he wonders how he could capture the landscape so he could view it forever. Maybe he starts to wonder what the big yellow thing in the sky is, and how it got there. Maybe he wonders if there’s more to life then getting up every morning and eating. Whatever is going through his head, the point is he stands there admiring the world and thinking. What happens next?

He gets eaten by a sabre tooth tiger, thus leading to the well-known saying; “I think, therefore I get eaten by a sabre tooth tiger.”

Yes miss, that is a real saying. Look it up.

And then…?

What was next for man? After tools and thought came civilisation. It began with music. Primitive music was discovered when a man, looking for stones to build a home for his mate, dropped his load of rocks which tumbled down a hill towards a group of unsuspecting villagers. The ensuing screams as they tried to escape sounded so beautiful to the caveman’s ears that he was overcome with emotion and had to sit down for several minutes.

This was the first known example of Rock n’ Roll.

Later, the man attempted to reproduce the scenario using boulders instead of stones, just to see if he could make louder music than before. Unfortunately his experiment wiped out an entire village and half the Amazon Rainforest, which understandably halted the progress of the industry for some time.

Next came language and communication. Primitive human language consisted mainly of grunts, clicks and obscene hand gestures; much like modern teenage communication. But further than that, man started making attempts into long distance communication. Of the many inventions developed in this time, perhaps the most notable was a method employed by one woman to communicate with her sister. She would write a message on a piece of bark in early hieroglyphics, wrap it tightly around a bird and throw said bird dart-like across the village where it would stick beak first into a nearby tree. This, as we all know, was the origins of Twitter. It was soon followed by the establishment of the RSPCA.

But unfortunately I have run out of time. Thank you; you’ve been a wonderful class. This is the first lesson I’ve had where no one’s thrown anything at me.

And so I leave you with this parting remark. If you take anything away from this lesson it should be this; if monkeys hadn’t picked up stones and used them to kill their neighbours, then we wouldn't have the internet.

Class dismissed.