Here is my skit from Playwriting:
written by me and my partner in crime, Jana.
(Grocery Store. Lorraine is in the produce section picking out melons. Squeezing them.)
IGOR: Hey, man. Nice melons.
LORRAINE: (shocked) Excuse me?
IGOR: (starring at Lorraine's breasts) I said nice melons. (laughs like a 14 year old boy)
LORRAINE: Oh, well...I...well...(Nervously shifts melons. Melons begin to roll off display) Oh, lord!
IGOR: Let me help you with those. (They begin to pick up melons. Both reaching for the same melon, their hands touch. Eyes meet.) You have beautiful eyes.
LORRAINE: Well aren't you just the cutest little thing.
IGOR: And exquisite breasts...I mean, you're fucking hot, man.
LORRAINE: Is that any way to speak to a lady? (Fluffs hair, sticks out chest.)
IGOR: (Noticing ring on her finger.) If you were my wife I'd never leave you alone.
LORRAINE: If I were your wife we wouldn't live in this town. They don't take too kindly to the Mexicans here.
IGOR: I'm not Mexican, man I'm Serbian.
LORRAINE: Serbian? Well I never heard of Serbia. Is that in Africa?
IGOR: No, I'm from Bosnia.
LORRAINE: Oh, Bosnia, of course. (She has no clue what he's talking about.) That's a nice shirt you got there. I think I have one just like it. That's my Saturday night shirt.
IGOR: You have a fishnet shirt too? You should wear it all the time. I bet you look fucking hot in it. (Changes mind) Actually...you should never wear clothes, you should be shot in the fucking face for wearing clothes.
LORRAINE: (Stares at him in disbelief. Starts laughing) Well...I...
IGOR: No, I mean, you're just so beautiful. (pause) I'm in a band.
LORRAINE: What kind of music do you play dear? (Flustered, begins putting produce in cart.)
IGOR: (Not taking hint, follws) Yeah, man we have a show tonight. It's industrial rock like Nine Inch Nails but way fucking cooler. You should come.
LORRAINE: What? You play with nails? Like tools? What kind of crazy band plays with tools?
IGOR: No, we are not Nine Inch Nails. That's a different band. We are Superstars of Mass Destruction. I'm about to go to sound check. Want to come with me? We can have a few beers and you can hear me play.
LORRAINE: I guess that sounds alright. My husband has poker night at the house and he don't like me around when the boys are playing poker.
IGOR: Awesome. Do you want to come with me now?
LORRAINE: Yes, honey just let me pay for my melons and we can get better aquainted. (winks)
IGOR: I'd be happy to help you with your melons anytime.
(Grocery Store. Lorraine is in the produce section picking out melons. Squeezing them.)
IGOR: Hey, man. Nice melons.
LORRAINE: (shocked) Excuse me?
IGOR: (starring at Lorraine's breasts) I said nice melons. (laughs like a 14 year old boy)
LORRAINE: Oh, well...I...well...(Nervously shifts melons. Melons begin to roll off display) Oh, lord!
IGOR: Let me help you with those. (They begin to pick up melons. Both reaching for the same melon, their hands touch. Eyes meet.) You have beautiful eyes.
LORRAINE: Well aren't you just the cutest little thing.
IGOR: And exquisite breasts...I mean, you're fucking hot, man.
LORRAINE: Is that any way to speak to a lady? (Fluffs hair, sticks out chest.)
IGOR: (Noticing ring on her finger.) If you were my wife I'd never leave you alone.
LORRAINE: If I were your wife we wouldn't live in this town. They don't take too kindly to the Mexicans here.
IGOR: I'm not Mexican, man I'm Serbian.
LORRAINE: Serbian? Well I never heard of Serbia. Is that in Africa?
IGOR: No, I'm from Bosnia.
LORRAINE: Oh, Bosnia, of course. (She has no clue what he's talking about.) That's a nice shirt you got there. I think I have one just like it. That's my Saturday night shirt.
IGOR: You have a fishnet shirt too? You should wear it all the time. I bet you look fucking hot in it. (Changes mind) Actually...you should never wear clothes, you should be shot in the fucking face for wearing clothes.
LORRAINE: (Stares at him in disbelief. Starts laughing) Well...I...
IGOR: No, I mean, you're just so beautiful. (pause) I'm in a band.
LORRAINE: What kind of music do you play dear? (Flustered, begins putting produce in cart.)
IGOR: (Not taking hint, follws) Yeah, man we have a show tonight. It's industrial rock like Nine Inch Nails but way fucking cooler. You should come.
LORRAINE: What? You play with nails? Like tools? What kind of crazy band plays with tools?
IGOR: No, we are not Nine Inch Nails. That's a different band. We are Superstars of Mass Destruction. I'm about to go to sound check. Want to come with me? We can have a few beers and you can hear me play.
LORRAINE: I guess that sounds alright. My husband has poker night at the house and he don't like me around when the boys are playing poker.
IGOR: Awesome. Do you want to come with me now?
LORRAINE: Yes, honey just let me pay for my melons and we can get better aquainted. (winks)
IGOR: I'd be happy to help you with your melons anytime.
posted by Rex Adventure at 8:43 AM
2 Comments:
If only it were that easy.
super cute. industrial writing like imaginary heroes but way fucking cooler. you live in atl? me too.
i'm kind of in love with your online persona.
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