My bed and I have what one would call a love-hate relationship. Every night it welcomes me with open arms, or sheets, if you will. I willingly cuddle with it, pulling its warm arms around me. It protects me from any nightmares that may come my way. Each night I can't help but feel that things couldn't be better between us. We love each other's company. That is until morning comes...
Each morning I feel like I was used. Suddenly my bed doesn't love me any more. It forces me out, practically throwing me from its comforting embrace. I am puzzled as I am tripped from the tangled sheets around my ankles. I can't understand how things can go from so good to so bad.
The stupid thing is, I always go back. Always. Call me crazy, but despite all that my bed has done to me, I love it. I can't just walk away, especially when it's so welcoming each night.
She woke up in his arms again. She hated when that happened. His body felt like a hot, sweaty trap. This was not a slight against him; she always overheated when she slept, which was made even worse when someone wanted to cuddle. The feeling of confinement only added to her discomfort. She had two options here: she could stay still and try to fall back to sleep in his arms, or she could be selfish and move, which would invariably wake him up. She decided to be selfish.
She tried to move very slightly, a little at a time. She didn't want to wake him, of course, but he was a light sleeper. She managed to wriggle free from one arm when she heard him groan. She froze as he started to shift and then resumed after he had settled. She had just managed to detangle herself completely when his eyes opened. She gave him an apologetic look and moved over to her own side. The freedom she felt was completely worth it.
This city had become so dull. There was nothing left for me here and I was thinking of leaving. Well to be perfectly honest, I was already at the train station, about to buy a ticket out of here, anywhere. I turned around to take one last look at this dreadful place, and then I saw her.
She was just standing there, staring at me, with this sly sort of grin on her face. It was as if she knew something I didn’t, and I was intrigued. I wanted to know her secret.
I forgot about the train ticket immediately. I walked out of the queue and followed her, this mysterious girl with her knowing grin. She stayed just out of reach, her blonde hair straying out behind her. Suddenly she turned a corner, and even though I was only a few paces behind her, she was gone. I looked everywhere, turned on the spot so many times I became dizzy, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly laughter was bubbling out of me. How crazed I must have looked, how desperate for something new. I so badly wanted a reason to keep going, and my subconscious decided to give me this girl. How completely juvenile.
I turned around then and began to head back to the ticket stand, shaking my head. But then I saw it. There was something written on the wall beside me, something that I was certain hadn’t been there before.
Jared and Joe were kind enough to allow me to show up early enough to capture the set -up of all that fancy equipment and the last minute rehersals, I used a special slider that allows you to shoot moving Timelapses.
Thanks Freddy and Misa for all their help I couldn't have done this without them.
I love all the contributions to this collaboration - especially the public domain footage, so I wanted to have a go remixing it all together. I don't think it's necessarily fully-formed (is a RECord ever?) but I thought it might work as a base or inspiration for other people making theirs.
- Hit the Heart reading (Kate & Clay)
Reading of Kate's Robot/Fall Formal script combining Kates audio with mine.
Anyone want to animate this? :)
Joe - Do you find it difficult? Does it take a lot of restraint?
Joe - But…for the rest of your life?
Other - Well, I don't see me *not* being any time in the future. I've never really had the urge, the timing has never been right - I've never salivated over a piece of meat, so to speak.
Joe - That. That isn't really what it's about, man, hah. It's more about enjoying the moment, letting go - forgetting the world. Indulging.
Other - I've tried that but I just feel guilty.
Joe - Why? Pleasure is nothing to feel guilty about.
Other - But it's at the expense of another living creature...
Joe - They can enjoy it to, y'know!
Other - How?!
Joe - Talk to them, see what they want, communicate.
Other - You ask it what it wants before you eat it?
Joe - Uhhh…kind of personal, don't you think?
Other - Whether or not you talk to your food is 'personal'?
Joe - Your food? Wait, what?
Other - Yes, your food. What the fuck do you think I'm talking about?
Joe - I thought you said you were a lifelong virgin? Other - Vegan, dude. I said 'vegan'.
Scene opens with two empty chairs, set about a seat apart A MAN and WOMAN enter, each sitting down and glancing around. They may nod or wave and smile at ‘people’ they recognize, occasionally catching each other’s eye, politely smiling. The MAN appears to be anxious or nervous, wringing his hands or tapping his feet, while the WOMAN is simply waiting for things to begin.
M: (loudly announces) I’m waiting for someone.
W: (a bit sarcastic, mostly disinterested confusion) Congratulations.
M: Thanks, yeah, I’m pretty excited. (clearly not getting it) I met her on the site, she’s pretty cool. Writes a lot, but I guess that’s okay. I’m more of a filmmaker, myself.
W: No way.
M: Yeah, totally. I’ve done a couple of videos, they’re quite popular, actually. Not to brag, I mean.
W: They sound amazing. (rolls her eyes) If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to see if the bathroom line has dwindled.
As she stands, the MAN grabs her hand. Both are clearly startled by the action, glancing from their hands to each other’s faces. To both of their surprise, he doesn’t let go immediately.
M: …Sorry? (WOMAN looks pointedly down at their hands. He drops it and barks a laugh) Sorry. I guess I’m just really, uh, nervous.
WOMAN, taking pity on him, sits back down.
W: About meeting this girl? (MAN nods) I wouldn’t be. I’m sure tons of people here are going through the same thing. In fact, probably more than half the people here are all meeting each other for the first time.
M: Yeah, but I like this girl. And I have no idea if she likes me. She’s hearted a few of my videos before, but never commented, or anything. How do I know if she’ll have the same feelings? (drops his head into his hands, groaning)
Unsure of what to do, the WOMAN hesitantly reaches out to pat his shoulder once or twice.
W: There, there. Let’s be realistic, she probably doesn’t even know you’re looking for her! (MAN groans even louder, this one sounding more like a sob. WOMAN winces) Shit, sorry, that came out wrong. I just mean, maybe you should just be honest about your feelings for her, if you find her. For all your doubts, she very well could like you back!
Like a springboard the MAN jumps to his feet, the sudden, positive change in his mood alarming.
M: You’re right! She’s bound to be here, and she’ll have to like me! I mean, not ‘have to’ in a ‘like me or I’ll chain you to a radiator and make you watch 80s cartoons and eat cereal with your feet’ sort of way. Or anything. (WOMAN stares, raises her eyebrows, etc. MAN attempts to shake it off with an unconvincing laugh) I’m not like that, I swear. I just really, really hope she’ll feel the same way about me.
W: I don’t see why she wouldn’t, you’re… charming, I guess, in your own way. Maybe she’ll be into your sense of humor.
M: Exactly! (begins to pace) I hope she thinks I’m funny. I try so hard to be funny, but shit, maybe that’s my problem! I try too hard to be funny. But never mind that, first I have to find her. Maybe if I can spot her outfit, it’ll be easier. (As he’s speaking, the WOMAN starts to take off her jacket, no longer listening to him) She posted on twitter that she’d be wearing a red button on the left side of her dress, black shoes, and a pony tail.
The WOMAN is, of course, wearing a red button on the left side of her collar, black shoes, and a ponytail. MAN has not noticed.
M: Shouldn’t be too hard to find. Just you wait, I’ll find you, catswithwings452!
WOMAN freezes, squeaks out a noise of surprise. The MAN slowly turns to look at her, at her outfit, her hair, then finally her deer-in-headlights expression.
M: (excited stage whisper) catswithwings452?! (WOMAN, to her slight dismay, nods. MAN’s reaction should be exaggerated, gesturing to himself, spreading his arms, etc. In a high pitched rush:) I’m danceswithpancakes!! You hearted my videos! I follow you on twitter! I’ve dreamed of this moment for months, and the entire time I’ve been freaking out about you, it was TO you! It’s like the stars brought us together on this magical night! IT HAS TO BE FATE, DON’T YOU AGREE?!
W: I. Have to pee.
She gets up, hurries offstage. MAN follows after her, shouting:
M: Don’t be afraid! My house doesn’t even have a radiator!
WOMAN sits rigidly with her hands folded in her lap. She looks anxious, her eyes dart quickly around the room at the people around her. THE CROWD all seems to be laughing, talking, etc. She can’t think of anything to say.
A MAN sits down next to her. WOMAN rests her elbow on the armrest and her head in her hand.
The MAN looks around, clearly less anxious/nervous, almost disinterested. He LOOKS at the WOMAN next to him.
So. Didn’t bring a date?
Of course I didn’t bring a date.
MAN looks taken aback.
Shit. No, I’m sorry. I just got out of a long relationship, I feel like it’s written all over my face.
MAN leans into her and studies her face, she automatically leans back.
MAN, still leaning in
Hmm, nope. Don’t see it written on here. You must be crazy.
WOMAN LAUGHS hesitantly
Must be, yeah. So where’s your date?
Oh, I didn’t bring anyone.
Can’t you tell by my cool, easygoing demeanor? I’m so unattached I’m not even remotely interested.
So... commitment issues?
What a pair, eh? Lucky we got sat next to each other and not this miserable slew of couples around us.
Yeah, lucky. [pauses] Hey, do you mind if I do something to your face?
Do I mind... if you do something... to my face?
That is exactly what I just said, copycat.
WOMAN blushes, smiles
I... I guess not?
Okay, close them big bright blue eyes.
WOMAN closes her eyes and leans in to the MAN, lips puckered slightly. MAN pulls a marker-pen out of his pocket and starts to write on the WOMAN’S forehead.
Woah WHAT THE FUCK?
Relax, it comes off with warm water.
What in god’s name are you doing?
Writing. You can write on me if you want. But please, there’s only a giant red ‘J’ on your face now. You look ridiculous.
WOMAN considers for a moment, then shrugs.
What the hell, go ahead.
MAN continues writing, then allows the WOMAN to write on his face
So what does mine say?
“Just got out of a serious relationship”. You have a weirdly small forehead, so I had to curve it down the side of your face, too. I hope you don’t mind.
I’m sure it looks beautiful, thank you.
“Unable to commit”. As I’m sure you felt -- half on one cheek, half on the other.
Good, so from far away it just looks like I have a horrific skin disease.
Exactly. I’m sure that a terrifying skin disease would repel any potential mates as much as the truth would.
Shit, I hope so.
Okay, so I'm awful at writing scripts of any sort but... SHIT. A call to writers, I can't ignore that.
(Two of the Orpheum’s ghosts encounter each other on the stage – both illustrious actors from the theatre’s past. Each considering themselves the greatest performer to have ever graced the 85 year old stage, they engage in a thespian duel.)
Pale-faced, impeccably dressed STANLEY SEETON paces the stage, whistling a tune with a smile on his face.
Another gent, MURRAY MACKINTOSH, dressed in the fineries of a more recent era enters, glides gracefully across the stage. Stanley stops dead and eyes the gent with scorn.
Stanley: And whooo, may I ask, are youuu?
Murray laughs a condescending belly laugh that lasts uncomfortably long.
Stanley keeps trying to interject when the laughter dies down, but each time he does, the laughter rises up again and drowns him out.
Murray: Little man, where have you been?
Stanley looks horribly affronted.
Stanley: Why, I’ve been right here, on this stage, where I belong.
Murray: Well, I’m afraid it’s time to take a bow and shuffle off dear chap. Make way for Murray Mackintosh! The finest actor of his generation. The Phantom of the Orpheum!
Stanley: What waffle! I’ve never even heard of you! It is I, Stanley ‘Slinky-toes’ Seeton who is the rightful haunter of this hallowed hall. And it is I whose name is more synonymous with brilliance of the theatrical variety.
Murray: So prove it.
Stanley: Gladly, but how?
Murray: Rustle up a move or two. Show me what you got, twinkle-toes!
Stanley: Oh, I’ll show you alright!
Stanley performs an awe-inspiring medley of dance moves. Murray looks on, unimpressed. Stanley ends with a flourish, out of breath having given it his all. He waits to hear the verdict.
Murray: I’ve seen better.
Stanley: And what’s so special about you, then, Phantom?
Murray smiles, smug.
He belts out a tune with impeccable tone and spine-tingling timbre.
Stanley is obviously impressed but tries to hide it. Murray ends on a final, roof-raising note and turns to Stanley, cocky. Stanley shrugs.
Stanley: I haven’t heard such a racket in here since American Idol!
Murray looks hurt, his ego pierced.
Murray: Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.
Murray face crumples into a frown, and then he descends into full blown sobs.
Stanley: Oh..oh dear. I..I didn’t mean to upset you.
Stanley takes a handkerchief from his pocket, hands it to Murray. Murray takes it, blows his nose noisily into it, hands it back. Stanley looks at it with disgust, picks it up between two fingers, throws it offstage.
Murray: It’s not…you.
Murray struggles to speak between sobs.
Murray: It’s just…that…I’m so…lonely.
Stanley: Aww shucks, hey, it’s alright.
Murray: Hold me, Stanley.
Stanley puts his arms around the man awkwardly. He gets pulled into a bear hug.
Murray: I had a girl, Stanley. A real good girl. But, I didn’t treat her right - never told her how much I loved her.
Stanley: I’m sure she knew, buddy.
Murray: I slept with her sister.
Murray: And now I can never make it right. She’s moved on and I’m stuck here – doomed to duel with a dancing deadman for all eternity!
Stanley rolls his eyes, pats Murray on the back.
Stanley: Not stuck, buddy. I could leave any old time if so inclined. But this is home for me. This is heaven. I can show you where to go, though - where to find your little lady.
Murray wipes his teary eyes, childlike.
Murray: You can?
Stanley: But how about me and you rustle up a little something before you go. You know, I think we woulda made a fine double act.
Murray: It would be an honour.
They perform a song together, a musical match made in heaven.
They bow. Then, Stanley escorts Murray off stage right, waves him goodbye.
Stanley is alone again. He sits on the edge of the stage, happily looking out at the beautiful theatre, whistling the tune they just performed.
The curtain closes.
Of course, the skills in question can be altered to fit the skills of the actors - ie - both could be singers, both could be dancers, one could recite shakespeare and the other could do a comedy act etc etc.
Maybe when Murray mentions his love her face could appear on-screen, all dreamy and soft-focus. When Murray 'moves on' we see him join her on-screen then all turns white.