To mark this wonderful (cough) holiday, I propose a toast. Ladies & Gentlemen, raise your glasses to Moulin Rouge.
It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live
If I was a sculptor, but then again, no
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do
My gift is my song and this one's for you
And you can tell everybody this is your song
It may be quite simple but now that it's done
I hope you don't mind
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world
I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss
Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song
It's for people like you that keep it turned on
So excuse me forgetting but these things I do
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue
Anyway, the thing is what I really mean
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen...
All together now, awww.
What I'm love-ing at the moment: this tuna roll I'm currently engaged with, Buck 65 and the song "463", writing in French, choir (especially "Cantique de Jean Racine"), The Guardian, stripy socks and black coffee.
Okay, that's enough love for one post. For some light relief, I'll post my piece for the writing workshop today, which got a fairly good reception. The pitch? Write a dialogue piece set in a broken-down lift between two characters, with some conflict. Here's my effort, the two characters have different fonts and italics are thoughts:
Back in the Day.
I cannot believe it. I just…no, it can’t be. It is. It is…oh, damn. That’s Paul Johnson there, two feet away from me. Paul “Punch” Johnson. In this lift. With me. Oh, God. Hurry up…hurry up..
LIFT STOPS
Woah.. Oh, no. No, no, no. This is not happening. This lift did not just stop. Hah, how do you like that? With a shudder and a jolt, all my worst nightmares have come true. Stuck in a lift with Punch Johnson. Just my luck.
Tch, that’s a bit of a nuisance, isn’t it?
Why is he looking at me like that?
Yes.
He knows its me. He knows. Oh, crap. Why didn’t I take the stairs?
I’m going to be late, now. Board meeting, see. Ah, well. Nothing we can do about it, I suppose.
Look at the way he’s staring at me. Just my luck, getting stuck in a lift with a madman.
Hmph.
Look at him, all calm and cool in his Armani suit. He’s wearing an Armani suit? Rich bastard. He’s just waiting…biding his time…
Hang on, didn’t you go to..
Is that Frank Greene? He looks different.
NO.
He knows. He knows. I’m going to die, right now. I’m going to die.
No, you did... St. Damians, right? Graduating class of ’94. It is you, it has to be. I never forget a face..
…yes. I did, yeah.
And it’s begun. This is it. Goodbye, cruel world.
Haha. Fancy that. Funny, how you run into people like this. I’m Paul….Paul Johnson. I doubt you remember me, I was a bit of a quiet lad back then.
Well, this is nice.
Paul, yes, I remember. Ahem. Frank Greene.
Smarmy bastard, who’s he trying to kid? “Quiet lad”? Punch Johnson was NOT quiet…I remember that much.
People used to call me Punch, back then. Kids are dreadful cruel, aren’t they?
Wow, I haven’t brought that up in years. Still kind of stings…
Yes…I vaguely remember that nickname.
Cruel? CRUEL?? You, my friend, were the cruel one..you used to go around beating up innocent people, I heard the stories, I heard them...
I hated school back then. I was teased something awful…
I can’t believe I’m telling him this.
..really? I don’t recall that..
Liar. Lying bastard.
Yeah. It was because of my, eh, my nose. You know, Punch. Punch ‘n Judy…
It feels good to get that off my chest. God, I never even told Gloria about this stuff.
…oh.
What on earth is he going on about? Punch Johnson, called so because you punched people. It’s that simple. Deluded fool..
Woah...
Woah..
Well, at least we’re moving again.
Thank God. I can’t believe I told this guy all those painful memories.
Yeah, I’m..eh…going to be late now.
Thank God. I can’t believe this guy’s such a liar. At least he didn’t hit me..
Well, here’s my floor. It was nice seeing you again.
That was a pleasant, if slightly awkward, chat.
Yeah, you too. See you round.
That was a close one. Git.
3 comments:
You had to write the dialogue because.....
I was just listening to the Moulin Rouge soundtrack today. Ah the memories. And it's a good film of course.
Really like the dialogue, he conversation and thoughts between them is very original.
I'm doing a "Writers Workshop" in school, a few students from each year work for an hour and a half with some author every Wednesday..
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