Saturday, 23 June 2012

How I remember it



By Ashley Lister

The first time the Dead Good Poets got together was in a college classroom on 29th January 2009.  I was there. I’ve written down the way things happened exactly so that there’s no danger of these recollections being affected by fading memory.


INT. DAY: Corridor outside THE CLASSROOM.
ELIZA DUSHKU and HERMIONE GRANGER are talking in the corridor. Both are holding flyers for a Dead Good Poets event. Both are wearing bikinis and their skin glistens with crystal-like raindrops from a recent downpour.

Eliza Dushku
[Holding up a flyer]
Hello, Hermione Granger. I’m looking for the room where Ashley is reading one of his wonderful poems.

Hermione Granger
[Glancing at the doorway for THE CLASSROOM. We see a glint in her eye that says, ‘If I can’t have him, then no one can have him.
She pushes her own flyer behind her back so that ELIZA DUSHKU cannot see what she is holding.]
I do not know of any poetry reading or any wonderful, sexy poets called Ashley. But I’d heard they were doing a reading on the other side of Blackpool. He might be there.

Eliza Dushku
I do not believe you, Hermione Granger, and I think we should wrestle in custard until one of us proves to be the victorious winner of a girl-on-girl fight.

Hermione Granger
Very well, Eliza Dushku, although I should warn you that I intend to tear off your bikini before…


CUT TO:INT. DAY: Inside THE CLASSROOM.
The scene is busy and packed like Wembley Stadium ready for a JLS concert or a Nickleback concert or even a football match with lots and lots of fans. There are also some sandwiches.

David Cameron
[Shouting angrily at Ashley]
If you read that poem in front of these students, I shall leave here and form a government that screws over the country.

Ashley
[Heroically]
Don’t make me laugh, Cam-Moron. No one would vote for you.

David Cameron
[With obvious doubt]
Maybe not. But perhaps I’ll form a coalition government.

Ashley
[Suddenly worried – but still heroic and handsome]
You wouldn’t, would you?

CAMERON rushes from the room, chuckling maniacally and rubbing his hands together, and maybe stealing the pension book from an old person as he runs past them. And probably kicking a blind man’s guide dog.

ASHLEY looks like he is about to heroically pursue CAMERON and maybe do some bad-ass ninja moves on him.

Before ASHLEY can follow, DAVINA McCALL clutches ASHLEY’s arm and pushes a microphone in his face.

Davina McCall
Ashley – are we OK to have a quick chat with you live on camera before the inaugural event of the Dead Good Poets (who haven’t yet been named) begin their first reading?

Ashley
[Humbly]
Davina, whilst I’d love to chat with you about how brilliant I and the rest of the (as yet unnamed) poets are, don’t you want to do some interviews with Barack Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Paris Hilton, Johnny Depp and all the other celebrity guests that we’ve got attending here for our inaugural event?

Davina McCall
[Looking disappointed]
You’re right, Ashley. And I hear the Pope and Jesus are about to enter the room with Michael Jackson (who is still alive because this is all happening in 2009) so I should go and have a chat with them.

Ashley
Very well, Davina. And I shall take a chair and sit with the other brilliant and wonderful poets who are going to change the face of North West poetry in the UK. And I shall wait for this event to begin. And then I shall contribute in a small and very humble way. And I’m not even slightly tempted to go outside and see what those two women are squealing about in the corridor.


CUT TO: INT. DAY: Corridor outside THE CLASSROOM.
ELIZA DUSHKU and HERMIONE GRANGER are wrestling in a vat of thick yellow custard.

FIN
Reactions:

10 comments:

Jo Michaels said...

That's a really well done blog post! I'm suddenly very self-concious because I think I may have called you a girl... Oops... Is that what a screenplay really looks like? WRITE ON!

Ashley R Lister said...

Jo,

I'm going to be teaching a workshop on how to write screenplays later this year, so I took the time to research current layouts for presentation.

This is the screenplay format - the TV script is slightly different and the stage play is also in another different layout.

And you and I think we have it tough having to produce a MS in TNR double space!

Ash

Lara Clayton said...

Thank you for allowing my morning to start with a giggle...
So glad you decided to recall our first event with the greatest degree of truth and avoided unnecessary fabrication ;)
Great post, as always.

Ashley R Lister said...

Yes, I wouldn't want to mislead anyone so I thought I'd tell it verbatim.

:-)

Lindsay said...

Yes, that's exactly how it happened. Apart from when David Boreanaz burst in and tried to persuade me to run off with him but I refused.

And there was indeed sandwiches.

This made me chuckle. I didn't realise there was a different format to scripts and screenplays, I am doing scriptwriting next year so that's useful to know.

Great post Ash :)

Ashley R Lister said...

How the hell could I have forgotten David Boreanaz? And James Marsters was probably there too.

I should have written this down sooner - before I started to make such glaring errors with reality.

Ash

Louise Barklam said...

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I was in a foul mood earlier, but you have managed to rectify that with this sparkling account of the first meeting.

Oh how I wish I was there ...... !

I also wish I had some of the creativity that your brain seems to flourish on, lol.

You've made me smile,
You are a Star,
So thank you again,
From this happy heart.

Lou. x

Ashley R Lister said...

Louise,

Glad to hear you've found your smile this morning - it's not good to start the day in a foul mood.

Looking forward to catching up at the next event.

Ash

Christo said...

The custard must have been especially tasty.

When Ash is not on hand to cheer your waking mood, do try The Writer's Almanac which is never short of inspiring snippets from poetry, literature and history.

Tx, Ashley.

Ashley R Lister said...

Thanks Christo,

Custard is always tasty.

Ash