tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20394366970166420182012-02-17T04:12:37.163+01:00William Snakefearehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122238765041954289noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2039436697016642018.post-3900843698232667192009-03-09T21:06:00.001+01:002009-03-09T21:08:37.438+01:00<strong>ABOUT TROLLS AND ORCS</strong><br />by <br />William Snakefeare<br /><br /><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</strong><br /><br />AN ORC, a female, brutal Orc<br />A TROLL, a male, gentle Troll<br /><br /><strong>CONTENTS</strong><br /><br />ACT I. In the house of the couple.<br /><br /><strong>FIRST ACT</strong><br /><br /><em>SCENE: The underground household of a Troll and an Orc; filthy, an open fire.</em><br /><em>Enter a Troll husband and an Orc wife</em><br /><br />TROLL: Hmmm, I wonder why yous and I be still together…<br /><br /><em>Throws away an eaten banana</em><br /><br />ORC: Vell me dea’, I been vondering tha’ too…<br /><br />TROLL: You knows, I frankly donut like yous, at all…<br /><br />ORC: Ya zink I likiez I? Ya puts me down alla’ time! <br /><br />TROLL: I be sorry, love.<br /><br />ORC: Me ya stop call “love”! Ya me hates!<br /><br />TROLL: Yous know I having troublems with yous’s way a’ taw’kin’, eh? Me little bugs?<br /><br />ORC: Grrrzzz! Stop calling me such zings, me want separation from ya!<br /><br />TROLL: But mine Pretty-Prissy?<br /><br />ORC: Nok!!! Buta Trola!<br /><br />TROLL: Please, dear! Stop behaving like tha’! No is funny.<br /><br />ORC: Vas not meant ta’ be funny, ma’ stupid husband! Why did I marry ya in the first place?<br /><br />TROLL: Because a’ love?<br /><br />ORC: No, I’ve never loved ya! I’ve always hated ya!<br /><br />TROLL: Wha-wha-whaaaz? But, but, me thoughted yous were just depressive.<br /><br />ORC: Yes, I am depressive, and probably depressed too, ya brain of a rock!<br /><br />TROLL: A rock has no brain, has it?<br /><br />ORC: No, it hasn’t, that was the point of it, the meaning o’ what I said, ya stupid dog brain!<br /><br />TROLL: Hmmm, dogs…!<br /><br />ORC: Ghrzz!<br /><br />TROLL: I sorry.<br /><br />ORC: Yea, ya should be!<br /><br />TROLL: … Love, what’s a brain?<br /><br />ORC: Ghrzzz!<br /><br /><em>Tears him apart</em><br /><br />TROLL: Me sorry, me so sorry!<br /><br />ORC: Oh yeas? Vell, I’m sorry too – for my future grandchildren!<br /><br />TROLL: And even children?<br /><br />ORC: GHRZZZ!<br /><br /><em>TROLL runs away<br /><br />Exeunt</em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2039436697016642018-390084369823266719?l=williamsnakefeare.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>William Snakefearehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122238765041954289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2039436697016642018.post-55877818102704612982009-03-09T20:50:00.003+01:002009-03-09T20:55:13.171+01:00<strong>ONE LAUGH LESS</strong><br />by <br />William Snakefeare<br /><br /><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</strong><br /><br />JULIO, a young gentleman<br />MERCEUS, friend of JULIO<br />A MAN, enemy of JULIO and MERCEUS<br /><br /><strong>CONTENTS</strong><br /><br />ACT I. On the streets.<br /><br /><strong>FIRST ACT</strong><br /><br /><em>SCENE: Old city, the sun is burning on the sun; the streets are dusty and hot; few shadows.<br /><br />On a chair sits Julio, with his sharpened sword at hand, speaking with Merceus.</em><br /><br />JULIO: Oh, Merceus, the heat is devastating! How are we supposed to live in this deserted place, without either water or shade?<br /><br />MERCEUS: ‘Fraid I do not know; I do not know whether your question was rhetorical or not.<br /><br /><em>JULIO sighs deeply</em><br /><br />JULIO: Ah, but what is life without water?<br /><br />MERCEUS: What is life without bread?<br /><br />JULIO: Or without love?<br /><br /><em>They both sigh</em><br /><br />JULIO: I say, Merceus, what’s that?<br /><br />MERCEUS: What?<br /><br />A MAN comes going, armed, and dressed in blue robes<br /><br />JULIO: I say! If it isn’t an intruding member of the Castle-folk!<br /><br />A MAN: What my eyes see is two scum of the Mountain-folk!<br /><br /><em>JULIO rises</em><br /><br />JULIO: Be gone, you worthless pile of filth!<br /><br />A MAN: I shall do no such thing! Leave yourself!<br /><br /><em>They draw swords</em><br /><br />JULIO: Feel my wrath, and the sting of my blade!<br /><br />A MAN: No, but thank you anyway! Your poetry already makes me ears bleed.<br /><br />JULIO: Then cry me a river yourself, Snakefeare!<br /><br /><em>They become even more violent; MERCEUS stand behind</em><br /><br />MERCEUS: Alright, alright, are you done now?<br /><br /><em>They ignore him, almost killing each other</em><br /><br />A MAN: Scum!<br /><br />JULIO: Heretic!<br /><br />A MAN: Nancyboy!<br /><br />JULIO: Bellybottom!<br /><br />MERCEUS: Julio?<br /><br />JULIO: Not now, Merceus!<br /><br />MERCEUS looks down<br /><br />MERCEUS: Julio, I think I will be going now.<br /><br />JULIO: What was that again, Merceus?<br /><br />MERCEUS sighs, and leaves the scene. Shortly after a while, JULIO strikes down A MAN<br /><br />JULIO: Ah, once again we people of the Mountains have proven ourselves invulnerable against the pitiful Castle-folk!<br /><br /><em>He pauses to sit down</em><br /><br />JULIO: Isn’t it so, Merceus?<br /><em><br />Silence</em><br /><br />JULIO: Merceus?<br /><br /><em>Exeunt</em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2039436697016642018-5587781810270461298?l=williamsnakefeare.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>William Snakefearehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122238765041954289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2039436697016642018.post-4864318422201862982009-01-15T19:19:00.004+01:002009-02-28T20:02:38.407+01:00<strong>THE TRUTH ABOUT DWARVES</strong><br />by<br />William Snakefeare<br /><br /><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</strong><br /><br />A KNIGHT, most foul in his way of thinking<br /><br />A SORCERER, a careful know-it-all, doing his best to avoid trouble<br /><br />A DWARF, short and high-tempered <br /><br /><strong>CONTENTS</strong><br /><br />ACT I. On top of the mountain hills.<br /><br /><strong>FIRST ACT</strong><br /><br /><em>SCENE: The lushly tops of the mountains, rocky and green; outside a goldmine.</em><br /><br /><em>Enter A KNIGHT and A SORCERER</em><br /><br />KNIGHT: Ah! Look, O Sorcerer, a new day is breaking!<br /><br />SORCERER: Aye, the warmth of the sun, the essence in the air… What had life been without change?<br /><br />KNIGHT: Change from night to day?<br /><br />SORCERER: Oh, yes and no! But mostly yes, aye! How lovely ‘tis here, among the high peeks of the mountains!<br /><br />KNIGHT: Yes, I truly see now why all the Dwarves keep hiding in their dark mountain halls.<br /><br />SORCERER: What? Why on Earth, I mean Tibia, would that explain why the Dwarves have trouble with the sunlight?<br /><br />KNIGHT: Well, I… at least, they have!<br /><br />SORCERER: Indeed…<br /><br /><em>Enter A DWARF</em><br /><br />DWARF: Why ‘lo, mates! Fine weather for a walk out in the sun, is it not?<br /><br />SORCERER: Err, why…<br />KNIGHT: Certainly is!<br /><br />SORCERER: Aye, very—<br /><br />KNIGHT: —As a matter of fact we were just discussing—<br /><br />SORCERER: —Why you Dwarves never shave your beards!<br /><br />DWARF: Ah, well lads, the reason is quite simple; we like ourselves hairy!<br /><br />SORCERER: Interesting! Most err… interesting…<br /><br />KNIGHT: But just as I was saying! We were discussing why you Dwarves never go out in the sunlight!<br /><br />DWARF: Why we never go out in the sunlight?<br /><br />KNIGHT: Yes, exactly!<br /><br />DWARF: What a rude question! I guess an obvious answer would be due to such humans as you!<br /><br />SORCERER: You shall have to forgive my friend, err, this knight, he is… rather stupid.<br /><br />KNIGHT: No I’m not! We were just—<br /><br />DWARF: —Trying to fool an old Dwarf, were ya?!<br /><br />SORCERER: No, no, no! Of course not! What makes you think that?<br /><br />DWARF: … I’ll have my eyes on you… The next time you show up… then I won’t be as merciful as to let you get a little pre-run!<br /><br />SORCERER: Now look, I’m sure we can come to some form of agreement here—<br /><br />DWARF: —Ghrrr…!<br /><br />KNIGHT: I forgot to mention! I think I know why they avoid the sun!<br /><br />SORCERER: Aha, and?<br /><br /><em>A SORCERER steps back</em><br /><br />KNIGHT: I think they avoid it because they are easily-tempered!<br /><br />KNIGHT AND SORCERER: WHAAAH!<br /><br />DWARF: Ghrrr!<br /><br /><em>Exeunt</em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2039436697016642018-486431842220186298?l=williamsnakefeare.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>William Snakefearehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122238765041954289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2039436697016642018.post-77415776326066397762008-11-16T20:31:00.005+01:002008-11-16T22:26:52.756+01:00<strong>THE TRAGEDIE OF THE COMEDIAN</strong> <br />by <br />William Snakefeare <br /> <br /><strong>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ <br /></strong> <br />LADY ANYONE, one of wealth, loneliness and egoism <br /> <br />GEORGE, visiting nephew of Lady Anyone <br /> <br /><strong>CONTENTS</strong> <br /><strong> <br /></strong>ACT I. Living Room of Lady Anyone. <br /><strong></strong> <br /></strong><strong>FIRST ACT</strong> <br /> <br /><em>SCENE: Living room of LADY ANYONE, extravagantly decorated with furniture of wealth; a sofa, a table with a flower-vase, lit candles. <br /></em> <br /><em>LADY ANYONE is arranging the flowers in the vase.</em> <br /><em> <br /></em>LADY ANYONE: Oh, this vast room! Shall it never be of importance? For endless years have I seen it here, with its closed, sealed beauty, yet for endless years has it been unused. <br /> <br /></em><em>Enter GEORGE</em> <br /> <br />GEORGE: Ah, there thou art, dear aunt! I have been looking all over thy extravagant home to find thee. Art thou in peace? <br /> <br />LADY: In peace I shall be when you are dead, or when I am dead, and when I am assured you will not follow with me to heaven. <br /> <br />GEORGE: Oh, aunt, what hath hurt thee? Thy face is all but shining, thy body as cold as a winter’s night. <br /> <br />LADY: ‘Tis rather your poetry which is worse than the poetry of... well, the poetry of a pathetic bard. Oh, and your heart, unlike my body, cannot be compared to a winter’s night; your heart is colder. <br /> <br />GEORGE: My aunt, if I knew what had stricken thy joy in the back, I would truly stab it for thee, as I am unsure whether thou canst handle thy hideous murderer or nay. <br /> <br />LADY: Oh, George! Have you yet not understood the meaning of what you are saying? <br /> <br />GEORGE: I am afraid not my aunt, as it hath no meaning. <br /> <br />LADY: How typical! You rattle on about no one knows what, then you believe yourselves to be some form of all-knowing profets and bards. How I defy your ways of thinking. <br /> <br />GEORGE: Who are ‘they’ dear aunt? Last I knew, only I was the one who spoke in old Englisc, but thou repeatedly adressest me as ‘you’. <br /> <br />LADY: George, my nephew! You make me so tired whilst trying to sound intelligent! Why can you just not leave me in peace? <br /> <br />GEORGE: If I remember right, dear aunt, thou wouldst be in peace when either of us were dead. <br /> <br />LADY: Yes, so what about it? I am much older than you, I shall probably die before you anyhow, seeing how you are such a coward, and will never set out in war. <br /> <br />GEORGE: But aunt, to go to war is nay to be in peace. In that case I would ne’er leave thee in peace if I left to war. <br /> <br />LADY: I knew it, your cowardice takes all of yours guts away! Never shall I have peace! <br /> <br />GEORGE: In this case, dear aunt, I believe thou art a victim of all life’s earthly woes, whilst I am a coward, not taking death by my proper hand. <br /> <br />LADY: I know who writes your lines! <br /> <br />GEORGE: Nay, aunt, nat I think thou art merely trying to threaten me. <br /> <br />LADY: Of course I am trying to threaten you! You are a coward, and you should therefore die out of terror! <br /> <br />GEORGE: O, my aunt, hast thou grown mad? Madder than usual, madder than the mad men in the asylum of which we both know nothing about? <br /> <br />LADY: It seems so. Yet madness is a disease which jumps over from one victim to another. <br /> <br />GEORGE: Thou dost not mean... <br /> <br />LADY: Oh yes, I do. I have been hit with madness from you, lousy boy! Your constant, nagging, brain-effecting use of old, no, ancient expressions has all but done me good. <br /> <br />GEORGE: Forgive me, aunt! I did not know, and neither didst thou! We are both victims of cowardice! <br /> <br />LADY: You have a fine ability of always mixing up the meaning of words. You, are a victim of stupidity. I, am a victim of you, and your dumbness! <br /> <br />GEORGE: Forgive me, aunt! I have failed thee! I have betrayed thee! <br /> <br />LADY: ... Nagged me, disturbed me, annoyed me... <br /> <br />GEORGE: Aye, that too! How will I ever be able to win back thy trust? <br /> <br />LADY: Well... <br /> <br />GEORGE: Nay! I have betrayed and brought shame upon my family, my related ones, my race! I shall be punished for my horrible sins! <br /> <br />LADY: Oh, I agree... <br /> <br />GEORGE: Ah, if it was not because of my cowardice! Now I have made myself guilty to Death, yet I am a coward, I dare not stand up, stand out and take the stab in the back! <br /> <br />LADY: Would you rather sit in, behind a grey cell? I believe that could be arranged... <br /> <br />GEORGE: Nay! I have lied to thee! I have set thee in woe! I am filled with dishonesty! I shall hold my head low! <br /> <br />LADY: Hm, of course you could always have become an inspiring poet. Ah, but who reads poetry to-day? <br /> <br />GEORGE: I cannot take it! I have sinned before God! I have bound a commitment to Satan! <br /> <br />LADY: Well of course you have sinned before God; God would never sin. <br /> <br />GEORGE: O, this earthly burden! I shall pay back everthing I have ever taken! <br /> <br />LADY: Well, first there is all the food you have eaten since you were three, everything you have broken, including my dreams... Oh, and all the time I recently lost because I had to listen to all this! <br /> <br />GEORGE: Forgive me God! <br /> <br />LADY: That might be hard. <br /> <br />GEORGE: Satan, spare my health! <br /> <br /><em>Stabs himself with a swordstick</em> <br /> <br />LADY: George? <br /> <br />GEORGE: Forgive me, my aunt. Now I have payed back. <br /> <br /><em>Dies</em> <br /> <br />LADY: Oh. Very well. I guess I am in peace. At last! This calls for a celebration! But no. I forgot. This room, this empty, never used room... that was the reason we never have masquerades or feasts or parties... <br /> <br /><em>Sighs deeply and blows out the candles <br /></em> <br />LADY: Oh well, I guess this room shall always be empty of people... <br /> <br /><em>Exeunt</em> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2039436697016642018-7741577632606639776?l=williamsnakefeare.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>William Snakefearehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04122238765041954289noreply@blogger.com0