Thursday, December 02, 2004

Meet The Blogs

It is finally finished. My first screenplay, written for my creative writing class. It will be acted in front of my class this coming Tuesday, and I will make a blog with reaction from my classmates when that happens. This took way too long to write. I hope you enjoy it!

Meet The Blogs

Narrator: After a hard day working in the local cavern, Blog the caveman returns to his cave. He lives in prehistoric times (the Stone Age to be exact) with his wife, Blogerella, and their daughter, Blogetta. Blog is of less than average intelligence, Blogerella is his overly critical and nagging wife, and Blogetta is their talkative teenage daughter. The scene begins as Blog enters the cave…

Blog: Hullo dear.
Blogerella: Blog!! Did you wipe your feet before you came in the cave? You got mud all over the dirt!
Blog: Blog sorry, Blog step in doo-doo.
Blogerella: Well, get the broom and clean it up.
Blog: Yes dear.

Narrator: Blogetta enters the cave.

Blogetta: Hi Daddy, hi Mommy, I…eww, what’s that smell???
Blogerella: Your father stepped in a brontosaurus burger.
Blogetta: Ohh Daddy, not again!
Blog: Blog no fall in this time.
Blogetta: Eww, I remember when that happened. Mom wouldn’t let you in the cave for two weeks! Your stench withered the plants in the garden!
Blogerella: Not to mention scaring half of our neighbors away.
Blogetta: I know!!! How was I supposed to get a date when my dad was sitting outside the cave, covered in dino dung?
Blogerella: There there honey, you’ll find someone soon enough.
Blogetta: Yeah right, I’ll probably end up with that guy who throws rocks at pterodactyls for fun…what’s his name?
Blog: Bloggo, he have good aim. Blog try to throw rock one time, but Blog miss and hit neighbor’s Volkswheel.
Blogetta: That’s nice dad. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later. I’m going to a rock concert with my friends and afterwards we’re gonna go get stoned.
Blogerella: Excuse me young lady?? What do you mean by “get stoned?”
Blogetta: C’mon Mom…Getting stoned is slang for a game I play all the time with my friends where one person has to avoid being hit by small rocks that are thrown by everyone else. It’s not like we have any good games to play – it’s the Stone Age. Why? What did you think it was?


Narrator: Later that night, Blog and Blogerella are sitting at the dining room rock, having an argument.

Blogerella: …and if you don’t clean up that mess right now, when I’m done with you, you’ll need to see a roctologist to remove all the boulders from where I’m gonna stick them!!!
Blog: Yes dear! Blog go clean up now!!

Narrator: Blog leaves the room. Blogetta enters the cave.

Blogetta: Guess what?? I have a boyfriend!
Blogerella: You have a boyfriend???
Blogetta: Yeah!!! Isn’t it great?!?
Blogerella: Who is he?
Blogetta: I…uhh…well, he’s really nice, I met him tonight.
Blogerella: Uh huh, and what is his name?
Blogetta: His name? Well, umm, his name is…umm, Flog.
Blogerella: FLOG?!!?!!?
Blogetta: Yeah…he’s really not as bad as you think…
Blogerella: Not as bad as I think?!? Flog is a rocksucker! He beat my pet saber-toothed kitty with a stick and then drank the mammoth milk I put out for her.
Blogetta: Well, he is a little immature at times, but…
Blogerella: At times? I saw him moon a triceratops once! I’ll bet he learned his lesson after that one though. That poor dinosaur’s horn got lodged in so far that it nearly broke off when…
Blogetta: Oh Mom!!! That’s disgusting!
Blogerella: I know it is honey, that’s why I don’t think you should be dating him.

Narrator: Blog enters the room.

Blogerella: Blog! Our daughter wants to start dating Flog.
Blog: Blog no like Flog. Flog throw rocks at Blog all the time. Bad Flog.
Blogerella: Yeah, see? C’mon Blogetta, you can do better than Flog.
Blogetta: I knew you guys would act like this. Just because he’s a little different doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.
Blogerella: He’s more than a little different. He has a boar tusk nose piercing! He even braids his armpit hair for crying out loud!
Blogetta: Yeah well, so he is a little eccentric…
Blogerella: He eats raw woolly mammoth eggs, shell and all.
Blogetta: Eww, really?
Blogerella: I even saw him drinking out of the tar pits once.
Blogetta: Hmm, maybe you’re right Mom…
Blog: She always right.


Narrator: The next day, Blog goes outside to go hunting for dinner. As he hunts, he chants this prehistoric song to himself.

Blog: Blog go hunting for triceratops
So family can eat dino chops
Blog run up to try and hit it
Blog no look and fall in a pit

The pit wasn’t so bad per se
Except for the spot where Blog lay
Piles and piles of dung
This’s where it gets flung

Blog escape from pit and decide to go hunt brontosaurus
Less chance of ending up with a horn wound and a sore ass
But Blog realize brontosaurus are big
They make Blog look like a little twig

Maybe Blog will go hunt something smaller
Instead of hunting something much much taller
Blog better hurry up and get something fast
Then maybe Blogerella will be happy at last

Narrator: Blog returns home to his cave after the sun has set, carrying something indistinguishable in his arms. He is greeted by Blogerella. Blogetta is also in the room.

Blogerella: You stupid Neanderthal! What could you have possibly been hunting that it took you all day?
Blog: I bring many tasty stones for you to cook your famous Rock n’ Casserole.
Blogerella: And it took you that long to bring home a few measly rocks?
Blog: But…Blog…
Blogerella: But nothing! I have had it up to here with…
Blogetta: Mom, why are you always so hard on Dad? He always tries his best and I think that you should be more understanding of him and less critical and negative.
Blogerella: Who asked you? This doesn’t concern you!
Blogetta: Yes it does Mom, I’m a part of this family too. And there are better ways to solve problems than yelling and criticizing.
Blogerella: I don’t have to listen to this. I can’t believe it, my daughter is telling me how I should live my life. Since when did you become Miss-Know-It-All?
Blogetta: I’m just saying you’ll get a better response from Dad if you stop yelling at him. I don’t even remember the last time I heard you say “Thank you” when he did something for you, or even a simple “I love you” from time to time.
Blogerella: That’s because he never does anything for me besides screw things up!
Blogetta: Come on Mom, you know that’s not true. Look, all I’m asking is that you’ll try to be more positive with Dad. Congratulate him instead of criticizing him. If he does something wrong, help him learn the right way to do it, instead of yelling at him for being ignorant.
Blogerella: (Sighs) Okay fine. Blog, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’ll try to be more understanding and positive with you in the future…I…love you.
Blog: Blog love you too.

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