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Calling all creative...err...geniuses...?


Holdios

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Hehe, just kidding. You guys are geniuses.

 

I'm sure some of you remember the "made for school rough around the edges but not too shabby" Greek mythology radio play put together by myself, Incredible D, and BossMilky.

 

Ahem, anyway... I'm doing it again, sort of. This year, we have an enrichment project to do just about anything we want with American culture/ literature (exciting, I know :p )

 

Consequently, I am writing a radio play adaption (more of a spoof than anything, like the last play) of Herman Melville's "Moby Dick".

 

I've got a decent start, and I'll put what I have for script in the next post, but for any Nightlighter's who are familiar with the story, even just a tiny bit, I need you to feed me some ideas. All is welcome.

 

Here's some characters before I post the beginning of thescript. There are many more, but I'm just writing these up as I go.

 

ISHMAEL: The story's narrator. If anyone in the play is a "straight man", it's him. When narrating, he has a deep and mysterious voice, but when interrupted, he has the voice of pubescent teenager.

 

ISHMAEL'S MOTHER: Your generic Monty Python Spam Woman

 

PETER COFFIN: Keeper of the "Spouter Inn" (named that in the book, so don't ask. Hehehe). He's a stoner.

 

QUEEQUEG: Ishmael's close friend and rumored (as well as awkward) lover. In the book, he's actually from New Zealand and Australia, so he's more or less an annoying Australian stereotype. (sorry guys. It's just too perfect)

 

CAPTAIN AHAB: Story's main character. An insane Sea Captain on an endless quest for the White Whale that took his leg. I've made him more or less an insane pirate, akin to Decazzador really. Naturally, D will be voicing him.

 

Beginning in next post, all. Gimme all you got for ideas.

 

Edit: Almost forgot! This should be 15-20 minutes long, if that affects your ideas at all.

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ISHMAEL: (voiced mysteriously) Call me Ishmael... Dashing womanizer and gambler, and lord of Las Vegas. Some called me a legend... Was I? Perhaps... all that's known though is that-

 

MOTHER: ( in the distance over last phrase in ISHMAEL's line) Ishmael....! Ishmael! ISHMAEL! music stops

 

ISHMAEL: (mystery voice is broken. More nerdy) Mother, What?!

 

MOTHER: Tell the story right!

 

ISHMAEL: I AM mother!

 

MOTHER: No, yer not!

 

ISHMAEL: Am!

 

MOTHER: Not!

 

ISHMAEL: Am!

 

*smack* Ishmael's mom has come closer and hit him

 

ISHMAEL: OW! Fine! ...Fascist.... Where was I...(He continues, resuming his mystery voice, music starts) I was the champion of the Carribean. Envied swashbuckler and cuthroat pir- *music stops*

 

MOTHER: I said tell it RIGHT! *smack*

 

ISHMAEL: OW!.... ahem! (very blatant throat clear music starts) I was... a simple sailor. I would leave for the Sea when I grew hazy about the eyes, when I craved adventure. The calling would come in an instant, and I would drop my books and head to the Sea... I was always respectable though, refusing to travel as anything glamorous... but simply as a low end sailor on a ship's crew

 

MOTHER: Oh don't patronize yerself! *music stops* You just went that way cause you were cheap!

 

ISHMAEL: Well, that too! Pipe down mother! You're ruining the mood. Ahem... *music starts* yes, as a simple sailor, and nothing more. I left home once again for Nantucket, stopping for the night in New Bedford...

 

change of music with flashback noise. sounds of a town

 

ISHMAEL: Ah, New Bedford. Is there anywhere a better town?

 

VENDOR: Spouts! Get yer spouts here!

 

ISHMAEL: Hmmm... The Spouter Inn. This looks like a good place to stay the night.

 

door open sound

 

COFFIN: Heyyyy Man. Welcome to The Spouter Inn. I'm Peter Coffin...and...uh... I run this place...

 

ISHMAEL: My, this Inn sure does have a dank, foreboding, and dare I say, foreshadowing atmosphere

 

COFFIN: Well, that's like...your...opinion, man.

 

ISHMAEL: I need a room for one night.

 

COFFIN: Sure thing, man. Here's the key.... Oh hey, man! I forgot! We're like... outta rooms, so you gotta share a bed with another dude here, he's like... dark complexioned.... ya know, man?

 

ISHMAEL: How unproffesional! Very well then, I will, since it is only for one night.

 

COFFIN: (calling after him) Watch out for the Shrunken heads, man!

 

footsteps and door opening. We hear snoring.

 

ISHMAEL: Oh my... This is... erm... an interesting room.

 

snoring stops abruptly

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh! Who are you?!

 

ISHMAEL: Call me Ishmael. I'm a-

 

QUEEQUEG: Oh! You my new room mate?

 

ISHMAEL: Well... Yes, I suppose... I mean I-

 

QUEEQUEG: The names Queequeg! I'm a harpooner from new Zealand, and quite dangerous really!

 

ISHMAEL: Wow, a harpooner... That sounds like a mighty exciting lifestyle. Do you-

 

QUEEQUEG: Boy, yeah it is! Check out all my scars and tattoos!

 

ISHMAEL: No... no no, don't take your shir.... damnit...

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh! Ain't they great!

 

ISHMAEL: Erm... yes, I sup-...welll... could you... erm, I don't suppose you could put your shirt back on?

 

QUEEQUEG: Nahhh! I sleep with it off anyway! Speaking of which, let's get some shut eye ay? I'm mighty tired.

 

ISHMAEL: Well... I don't know if... *sigh*. Here goes nothing...

 

narration again

 

ISHMAEL: However, I soon got over my...fear... of the harpooner Queequeg. In fact, I grew to like him. We spent the next few days together and decided we would travel to Nantucket in eachother's company

 

trumpet fanfare

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh, Nantucket! My favorite city!

 

ISHMAEL: You know... I once KNEW a man from Nantucket...

 

QUEEQUEG: Yeah?

 

ISHMAEL: He really got on my nerves.

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Having never READ Moby Dick (and being damn glad of it too) I don't know how I'd go about writing a radio script based on it. I'd make it about a doomed fishing trip, more than anything. So the best I can do... is show you how I would have written what YOU have written. Makes sense?

 

ISHMAEL: (voiced mysteriously) Call me Ishmael... Dashing womanizer and gambler, and lord of Las Vegas. Some called me a legend... Was I? Perhaps... all that's known though is that-

 

MOTHER: ( in the distance over last phrase in ISHMAEL's line) Ishmael....! Ishmael! ISHMAEL! music stops

 

ISHMAEL: (mystery voice is broken. More nerdy) Mother, What?!

 

MOTHER: Look, if you're going to tell the bloody story, then tell it right!

 

ISHMAEL: I AM mother!

 

MOTHER: No, yer not! Womanizing and gambling? Who do you think your fooling!?

 

ISHMAEL: I've womanized and gambled plenty of times!

 

MOTHER: You bloody well haven't! Unless you call what you did with your cousin Ruth at last years christmas party, and even then you had to get her fully plastered!

 

*smack* Ishmael's mom has come closer and hit him

 

ISHMAEL: OW! Fine! ...Fascist.... Where was I...(He continues, resuming his mystery voice, music starts) I was the champion of the Carribean. Envied swashbuckler and cuthroat pir- *music stops*

 

MOTHER: Envied swashbuckler and cuthroat pirate? You don't know the first thing about swashbuckling! 'Ere, how do you swash a buckle, smarty pants!?

 

ISHMAEL: OW!.... ahem! (very blatant throat clear music starts) I was... a simple sailor.

 

MOTHER: Bloody couldn't get more simple if you ask me.

 

ISHMAEL: I would leave for the Sea when I grew hazy about the eyes, when I craved adventure.

 

MOTHER: Craved snack food more like it. Drugged up to your eyeballs! And I hope you're going to clean your room before you go!!

 

ISHMAEL: The calling would come in an instant, and I would drop my books and head to the Sea... I was always respectable though, refusing to travel as anything glamorous... but simply as a low end sailor on a ship's crew

 

MOTHER: Oh don't patronize yerself! *music stops* You just went that way cause you were cheap!

 

ISHMAEL: Oh shut up you old bag, you're ruining the mood. Ahem... *music starts* yes, as a simple sailor, and nothing more. I left home once again for Nantucket, stopping for the night in New Bedford...

 

change of music with flashback noise. sounds of a town

 

ISHMAEL: Ah, New Bedford. Is there anywhere a better town?

 

VENDOR: Spouts! Get yer spouts here!

 

ISHMAEL: Hmmm... The Spouter Inn. This looks like a good place to stay the night.

 

door open sound

 

COFFIN: Heyyyy Man. Welcome to The Spouter Inn. I'm Peter Coffin...and...uh... I run this place...

 

ISHMAEL: My, this Inn sure does have a dank, foreboding, and dare I say, foreshadowing atmosphere

 

COFFIN: Well, that's like...your...opinion, man.

 

ISHMAEL: I need a room for one night.

 

COFFIN: Sure thing, man. Here's the key.... Oh hey, man! I forgot! We're like... outta rooms, so you gotta share a bed with another dude here, he's like... dark complexioned.... ya know, man?

 

ISHMAEL: How unproffesional! Very well then, I will, since it is only for one night.

 

COFFIN: (calling after him) Watch out for the Shrunken heads, man!

 

footsteps and door opening. We hear snoring.

 

ISHMAEL: Oh my... This is... erm... an interesting room.

 

snoring stops abruptly

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh! Who are you?!

 

ISHMAEL: Call me Ishmael. I'm a-

 

QUEEQUEG: Oh! You my new room mate?

 

ISHMAEL: Well... Yes, I suppose... I mean I-

 

QUEEQUEG: The names Queequeg! I'm a harpooner from new Zealand, and quite dangerous really!

 

ISHMAEL: Wow, a harpooner... That sounds like a mighty exciting lifestyle. Do you-

 

QUEEQUEG: Boy, yeah it is! Check out all my scars and tattoos!

 

ISHMAEL: No... no no, don't take your shir.... damnit...

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh! Ain't they great!

 

ISHMAEL: Erm... yes, I sup-...welll... could you... erm, I don't suppose you could put your shirt back on?

 

QUEEQUEG: Nahhh! I sleep with it off anyway! Speaking of which, let's get some shut eye ay? I'm mighty tired.

 

ISHMAEL: Well... I don't know if... is it okay if we sleep head to toe?

 

QUEEQUEG: Whatever does it for you!

 

narration again

 

ISHMAEL: However, I soon got over my...fear... of the harpooner Queequeg. In fact, I grew to like him. We spent the next few days together and decided we would travel to Nantucket in eachother's company

 

trumpet fanfare

 

QUEEQUEG: Hueh, Nantucket! My favorite city!

 

ISHMAEL: You know... I once KNEW a man from Nantucket...

 

QUEEQUEG: Yeah?

 

ISHMAEL: He really got on my nerves.

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