The 1996 radio sketch that sort of kicked off my comedy moviemaking career with David Ashe and Dr. Fred. Done for Mr. O'Connor's English class, it starred David Ashe as Wally Watt, the Announcer, and Gawain, me as everyone else, and my sister Lauren Gilchrist as the wife of Bath.
Listen to the sketch HERE in Realaudio format (visit real.com), or HERE in .MP3 format, renamed .001 because my server doesn't allow MP3s, rename to .MP3 once you've downloaded.
ANNOUNCER: And now, we are proud to present part one of a play, rendered in the classic Shakespeareian manner, redefining manís role in the universe for the twentieth century.
(awkward pause)
ANNOUNCER: I said, ëwe are proud to present part one of a play, rendered in the classic Shakespeareian...'
VOICE: We didnít write that one.
ANNOUNCER: What?
VOICE: That play, rendered in the classic Shakespeareian yadda yadda yadda. We didnít write that one, we canít do it.
ANNOUNCER: Well, what did you write?
VOICE: Weíve got a comedy sketch.
ANNOUNCER: A comedy.. all right, fine, roll the silly little comedy sketch. I donít care, itís none of my business if youíre fooling around with this nonsense when you should be doing your work for class. Go ahead, just donít come crawling back to me when you get an F. Thatís right, I said an F, and God only knows ...
(music)
WW: Yes, hello, and welcome to Literature Tonight, the show that takes a cutting, incisive, thoughtful, witty, moist and purple look at the great masterpieces of British literature. Iím Wally Watt, filling in tonight for Sir Reginald Owen, who is out with a cold, something I am supposed to say rather than tell you that heís out in the Caribbean with his mistress. With me in the studio tonight are many well-known characters from medieval British Literature, here for a round-table discussion of things that one might discuss at a table that is round. On my right is Beowulf, king, warrior, and the greatest of Anglo-Saxon characters. On my left are King Arthur and Sir Launcelot, of Maloryís Le Morte díArthur, not to mention Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, from the Pearl Poetís novella of the same name. And with us as well are the Pardoner and the Wife of Bath, from Chaucerís The Canterbury Tales, and finally Everyman, from the morality play of the same title. And our first question goes to you, Beowulf.
BEOWULF: Right. Now, what was I saying?
WW: You werenít saying anything, weíve only just begun.
BEOWULF: Thank you, I feel the same way. Now what is the question?
WW: Beowulf, you are one of the earliest epic heroes, and your book remains the only surviving work of any length from the Old English period. How does that feel, and why do you think so little survives from that particular period?
BEOWULF: Well, Wally, itís not that they wrote a million books and things that just got destroyed over time, itís just that there werenít so many to begin with.
WW: How so?
BEOWULF: Well, we werenít the sort aí people to sit around writing. We were the partying type, mate, we had better things to do. Looting, pillaging, chopping the heads off monsters ...
WW: Monsters?
BEOWULF: Well, they werenít really monsters, just real big pigs and people we didnít like. Them was great days, mate, laughing it up in the mead-halls wití your best buddies, gettiní bloody drunk, smashed, you know, and then going off to fight a dragon or some such.
WW: A dragon?
BEOWULF: They only come out when youíre smashed. Goofy-looking little fellows, with webbed feet and black and white feathers and this silly little walk .. no real challenge to hack their heads off, but it sure was a lot aí fun.
WW: I noticed youíre carrying a large burlap sack with you, Beowulf. Is that Ö spoils of war?
BEOWULF: Hell no, mate, thatís just me emergency reserves. Always carry a bint for when Iím feeling dry.
WW: Are you saying thereís .. liquor in that sack?
BEOWULF: Naw, mate, none aí that wussy French stuff, just good olí British mead, the finest in the island. (clanking sound, drinking) Yeah, thatís thí stuff. Want any?
WW: None for me, thanks, I hear it can make you go blind.
BEOWULF: Suit yourself. (clanking sound)
WW: And our next question goes to you, Everyman. In the dramatic play that bears your name, a rarity in the so-called Dark Ages, you are used to symbolize all of mankind, to force the audience into thinking about the mistakes theyíve made in their own life. Do you think this same concept is relevant today?
EVERYMAN: Oh, shut up.
WW: Excuse me?
EVERYMAN: You college types, what with your neatly-pressed suits and your bleeding fancy words; you make me sick! Why canít you just say what you mean? Oh no, couldnít do that, risk sounding inferior, you think youíre so bloody great! You ponce, you fenking pillock; I donít even know you, and already I hate your guts!
WW: And our next question ...
EVERYMAN: Now you, Beowulf, you I like. Youíre not too bleeding stuck up to have a bit of fun.
BEOWULF: Thanks, mate. Want a nip aí mead?
EVERYMAN: I thought youíd never ask. (clanking sound, drinking)
WW: And our next question goes to you, King Arthur. Do you think chivalry is dead, and why?
ARTHUR: Of course chivalryís dead, and bloody well so am I. Permission to rant?
WW: Permission given.
ARTHUR: You know, you spend your entire life defending these stinking concepts of knighthood and gallantry, and what do they do? They kill you off in the second-to-last chapter. And they couldnít stop with that, no, no. After you spend an entire book sacrificing everything for your country, they call the book The Death of Arthur. Not the life, not the works, not even the fenking bedroom conquests. No, no, they tell you to look forward to when the main character CROAKS! Not even an ounce of respect for the greatest king Britain has ever known ...
WW: (cuts in long before Arthur is done) And what about you, Sir Launcelot? Is chivalry dead?
LAUNCELOT: What? What, are you saying I killed it? Come on! I... I was the perfect knight, all my life! I wouldnít have killed Arthur, I ... It was all Gawainís fault !
GAWAIN: ME?
LAUNCELOT: Yeah, yeah, go talk to him! If he hadnít been such a flaming heap of monkey droppings, none of this wouldíve happened.
GAWAIN: You bastard, you subhuman dolt, I knew you couldnít shoulder the blame. And that reminds me, I never paid you back for slaughtering my brothers. (sound of sword being unsheathed)
LAUNCELOT: Oh, oh, yeah, you wanna go? You wanna go? (sound of sword being unsheathed)
GAWAIN: Yeah, come on. Or are you chicken?
LAUNCELOT: Thatís it! (swordplay follows) Aaaagghh.. (thud)
GAWAIN: Euggghh.. (thud)
WW: Oh my. Well, Launcelot and Gawain are both dead, so letís move on to you, Green Knight..
GK: Eric.
WW: What?
GK: My name, itís not the Green Knight, itís Eric.
WW: You want me to call you ... Eric?
GK: Yes, thatís right, Eric the Green Knight.
WW: Okay then, Eric, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is a strange and symbolic tale. There is some disagreement over the meaning of the story, and your role especially has been open to many interpretations. Some have chosen to see you as anything from the best of knights, to the devil, to manís folly personified, to the god of plants. How do you see yourself?
GK: What?
WW: Do you think of yourself as the god of plants?
GK: I .. Iím just a stockbrocker from Wessex.
WW: Arenít you the Green Knight?
GK: Yes, but I just sort of say that to frighten burglars. Iím really just an average bloke.
WW: Just an average ... And the next question goes to the Pardoner. Pardoner; you are one of the minor characters in Chaucerís The Canterbury Tales, but although I havenít actually read the book per se, Iím told you are one of those rare characters that leaves a lasting impression in readersí minds. Why is that?
PARDONER: Oh, yes, yes, youíre a nice one, arenít you.
WW: Excuse me?
PARDONER: Youíre a good one, youíve got a nice, strong, manly voice. Come on, talk dirty to me.
WW: No!
PARDONER: Oh, is that it, you want to play hard to get. Well, pardon me, dearie, but youíll never get anywhere that way, oh no you wonít.
WW: What in Godís name is going on here?
PARDONER: Oh, hiss mrowr to you, too. Come on. Give us a bit of leg.
WW: Get off of me!
PARDONER: Well, I never! Well, see if I do you any favors, sister dear, oh no.
WW: Excuse me, are you ... you know, are you ...
PARDONER: (laughs)
WW: Moving on, quickly, to the Wife of Bath ...
WOB: Yes, hello, Wally.
WW: Yes, um, hello. Wife of Bath, you are generally considered to be Geoffrey Chaucerís most original and memorable creation, a rare female iconoclast shattering medieval conceptions about how women should speak, live, and behave. Tell us a little bit about your role in the story.
WOB: Wally, Wally, Wally.
WW: Yes, um... yes.
WOB: Iíd just like to thank you for last night, at the restaurant.
WW: Yes, well, if you could just answer the question ...
WOB: Oh, pfft the question. Are you doing anything Friday?
WW: Um, would you like to go into the back room and talk, away from ...
WOB: Just come on.
WW: Whoa ... (footsteps, clanking)
EVERYMAN: This is great mead.
BEOWULF: Thanks mate, I made it myself. Now most people know nothing ëbout how to brew a good barrel aí mead, but I know all the tricks.
EVERYMAN: Really? Whatís your secret?
BEOWULF: Ya gotta leave the weevils in, gives it texture.
EVERYMAN: ëZat so?
(music)
ANNOUNCER: Join us next time, when the entire cast of William Shakespeareís Macbeth will teach us how to bake a lemon meringue pie. Until next week, cheerio!
This bit is the property of Orange Cow Productions. ninc. It may not be distributed, published, altered, performed, or used in any other manner without the express consent of Orange Cow Productions, ninc. It was originally written and performed as a radio play starring David Ashe, Garrett Gilchrist, and Lauren Gilchrist, and it cracked up Mr. O'Connor's fourth period British Literature class. Visit Dr. Fred's Exploding Homepage. © Orange Cow Productions, ninc., 1996.