Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The Wallaby of Death - Part 8

Scene 8 - Woods


Holmes, Watson, Bre and Grace are in the woods.


Holmes is setting up some sort of contraption.


Bre: Holmes, what are you doing?


Holmes doesn’t answer


Watson: He’s making an

Aquaggaswack, to capture the wallaby.


Bre: A what?


Watson: Aquaggaswack. I’m surprised at you. It’s far too elementary!


Grace: Umm…what is an...aquaggaswack?


Watson: It’s a musical instrument made up of pot lids strung between poles. It’s especially useful when wallaby-hunting.


Bre: I see.


Holmes finishes his contraption,

sits up, and begins to bang out random rhythms on it.


Watson: Shhh.


Everyone watches as a wallaby emerges from the bushes


Watson (creeps up on wallaby)


Holmes (continues playing…whispers): Careful, Watson…it could be vicious!


Watson (throws sack over wallaby): I’ve got it, Holmes!


Everyone rushes to help

Watson secure the wallaby


Holmes: Excellent work, my dear fellow!


Everyone goes back to Ferrari


Bre: Holmes, do you have any

theories?


Holmes: As a matter of fact, I do.


Grace: Care to explain?


Holmes: I believe that the capture of this wallaby will be of great help to us, as I believe that it was merely the agent of evil, rather than the manufacturer thereof.


Bre: Ooooh.


Holmes: Hopefully, this wallaby will lead us to its master.


EXEUNT

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Wallaby of Death - Part 7

Scene 7 - Ferrari

Still driving along, quietly…everyone is minding their own business.

Watson: I never really understood your monograph on olives, Holmes…I never have, and I feel like I should.

Holmes (after a slight pause): What is there to understand?

Bre: Well, you only address one type of olive…I feel that you should have included more varieties…

Grace: I completely agree. Olives are very diverse in nature.

Watson: And the one variety you do deal with, you deal with in a very vague manner. It is not like you, Holmes.

Holmes: Well, at the time, I believe that I viewed the monograph as an art, rather than actual science.

Grace: That would explain…a lot.

Bre: Yep.

Watson: Oh! I never thought about it in that light!

Moment of silence

Holmes: I don’t know why I ever wrote a monograph on olives.

More silence

Bre (hears something behind them): Watson, I think we’re being followed.

Holmes (looks out the rearview mirror): My word.

Watson: What?

Holmes: It seems we are being followed by yet another adolescent female…

Everyone turns around to look, and sees a girl chasing the car, with her nose in the air

Bre: What in the world…?

Holmes: She appears to be…smelling…the air…

Grace: What should we do?

Holmes: Watson, stop the car.

Car comes to a halt

The girl quickly approaches the stopped car


Girl: I….SMELL….PANCAKES!

The company watches in disbelief as the girl goes to the trunk and begins clawing at it, attempting to get it open

Holmes (exits car and goes to girl): How may I assist you?

Girl: PANCAKES!

Bre: I think she wants pancakes, Holmes.

Grace: No kidding.

Holmes (to girl): What is your name?

Girl: PANCAAAAKES!

Bre (stifles a giggle)

Girl: No, no…I mean…my name’s Marian…

Holmes: Ah, a lovely name…how may I assist you, Mar-

Marian (cutting Holmes off): PANCAKES!

Marian continues to claw at the trunk

Grace: Um…Holmes…we probably should give her the pancakes, before she hurts herself.

Holmes (opens trunk) There we go, Marian.

Marian: PAN- Ohhhhh!!! (dives in)

Holmes (shuts trunk and climbs back in the passenger’s seat) Continue, Watson.

Bre: Wait, Holmes…I need to talk to Grace for a minute.

Bre and Grace exit the car and head into the woods

Bre: I do not entirely agree with what Holmes is doing to those girls. I feel like a kidnapper or something.

Grace: Yeah…what do we do?

Bre: Should we confront Holmes?

Grace: He doesn’t listen!

Bre: Meh.

During the slight silence, rustling is heard in the bushes

Bre: What was that?

Grace: WALLABY!!!!!!!!

Bre and Grace scream and run back to the car

As they exit the woods, they see Holmes and Watson, prancing around the Ferrari with jars full of sugar cubes

Bre: What on earth are they doing?

Grace: Catching fairies, it would appear.

Bre (laughs): Holmes, catch any fairies?

Holmes and Watson stop and put the jars behind their backs guiltily

Holmes: We were merely trying an experiment…

Watson: Yeah.

Bre: Of course.

Grace (freaking out): HOOOLMES! I think we just encountered a wallaby!

Holmes: I am sensing a pattern in the behavior of the wallaby or wallabies.

Grace: So…what are we gonna do?

Holmes: Set a trap.

Bre: Ooooh.

Grace: What kind of trap?

Holmes (gets a gleam in his eye)

Bre: Oh…dear.

EXEUNT

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Wallaby of Death - Part 6

Scene 6 - Ferrari


Driving along


Something falls from the sky


Bre (looking around): What was that?


Grace (picking something up off the floor of the vehicle): It looks like a sugar cube.


Bre (puzzled): Sugar cubes don’t fall from the sky.


Holmes (sarcastically): What a revelation!


Bre (sigh)


More sugar cubes pelt the car from all directions. Watson slows the car to a stop in the middle of

the road.


Watson (frustrated): What is going on?


Bre (solemnly): Bad things.


Grace: Bad things happen in the countryside.


Holmes (leaps out of the car without opening the door and dodges flying sugar cubes; leaps onto

hood of Ferrari)


Watson (cringes): Hooolmes….


Holmes: Unseen foes…HEAR ME.


Bre and Grace look at each other, puzzled)


Holmes: Declare yourselves…and your motives…


Watson (jumps onto hood of car with Holmes): Or your civilization shall be destroyed!


Holmes (looks at Watson in surprise): Very good, dear fellow.


Watson: I try.


Bre and Grace stare blankly at the men on the hood of the car as Mary screams from the trunk


From the woods, another person emerges and leaps onto the hood of the car


Person: Followers, disperse!


Much rustling ensues as the followers disperse


Holmes (addressing the person): What is the meaning of throwing sugar cubes in such a hostile

manner?


Person: Uh…it seemed like a good idea at the time…


Watson: Who are you?


Person (triumphant): I am Amy, leader of the Fairy Seekers!


Holmes and Watson exchange puzzled glances over Amy’s head


Bre and Grace stifle laughter


Grace: Fairy Seekers?


Amy: Um…yeah.


Holmes: And what, pray tell, is the primary occupation of…a Fairy Seeker?


Amy: Um…we seek fairies.


Holmes (face palms)


Watson: And how do you go about that enterprise?


Amy (hops down from hood of car): We use sugar cubes and jars.


Bre: Ummm…kay.


Amy begins to wander around, retrieving the sugar cubes from the ground. Watson follows suit

and wanders into the woods.


Mary (shouting and pounding in the trunk): HELP! HELP ME!


Amy (stops): What is that?


Grace: Nothing…nothing at all…


Amy: ARE YOU KIDNAPPERS?!?!?!


Holmes (mischievous look): Yes.


Bre and Grace freak out


Grace: HOLMES! We are not kidnappers!


Bre: No no, we’re not!


Amy (dashes toward the trunk): We must let her out! (to Mary) Friend, I am here to help you

escape from these dangerous ruffians!


Mary (muffled): THANK YOU


Bre, Grace and Holmes dash toward the trunk


Holmes (trying to restrain Amy): No, we cannot let her out!


Bre (sits on trunk lid)


Amy (fights Holmes) No! KIDNAPPERS! HELP!!!


Grace (motions for Bre to get off the trunk and opens lid)


Mary (tries to leap out but is restrained by Bre)


Holmes shoves Amy in the trunk, and helps Bre to shove Mary in the trunk and shuts the lid.


The girls scream and thrash about


Watson returns from the woods with pocketfuls of sugar cubes and hears the commotion.


Watson: Holmes! What is that heinous noise?


Holmes: Watson, Watson…have even your most rudimentary powers of observation failed you?

That is the sound of agitated females shrieking and kicking each other in a confined space. I am

surprised at you…it is far too elementary.


Watson (rolls eyes): Why yes, quite silly of me, Holmes.


Bre: How long are we going to keep them there?


Holmes: Whatever length of time proves necessary.


Bre: I see.


Everyone returns to the car and Watson begins to drive again.


EXEUNT


Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Wallaby of Death - Part 5

Scene 5 - Woods


The trio hears continuous rustling in the bushes and underbrush. They dash about.


Bre: Holmes, I think I hear it over here!


Everyone runs in Bre’s direction


Silence


Bre: Er…wait…maybe it was the other way.


Everyone runs in the other direction…rustling gets louder


Holmes (whispers): Shhhh, we’re almost upon him!


Silence, except rustling in the bushes


Holmes (creeps forward)


Grace (screams and clutches at hair): AHHHHH GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!!!!


Rustling disappears into the night as Holmes turns around in frustration


Grace (crying): It’s a snaaaail in my haaaair!!!!


Holmes (sarcastically): Oh, would you like me to drop what I’m doing and remove it from your

hair?


Grace (still crying): I’m sorrrrry!! Snails are icky!


Holmes (grabs snail and pitches it into the woods, then stalks off)


Bre (looks sympathetic): I would have screamed, too…


Bre and Grace trail behind Holmes


Holmes reaches the campfire, where Watson is flinging pancakes about in a very wild and

agitated manner


Holmes (walks up to Watson and shakes him): Watson, man, snap out of it!


Watson (shakes his head and “wakes up”): Whaaa?


Bre and Grace return and look around at the mountainous piles of pancakes


Watson (realizes how many pancakes he just made): Holmes, for goodness sake, man, the

pancakes!


Holmes: Watson, Watson, must I remind you that those are your department?


Watson (bites nails): But, I haven’t the faintest idea what to do with all of them!


Bre: We could save them for later…or (cheerfully) use them to feed the starving captive in our

trunk.


Mary (muffled): I am soooooo hungry, it’s not even funny!


Grace grabs a pancake, opens the trunk slightly, throws the pancake in, and closes the trunk


Mary (makes ravenous munching noises): Manna from heaven!


Everyone pauses, then laughs


Grace (still laughing): Holmes, you have no idea how sorry I am about screaming. Really, I am.


Holmes: I understand perfectly; snails are revolting little creatures. I apologize for snapping at

you, the entire situation was not your fault in the slightest.


Watson (walking about, making neat little piles out of the pancakes): I believe all of these will fit in

the trunk even with…a…person…already in it.


Bre: Hopefully, she won’t eat all of them.


Mary (continues to munch loudly)


EXEUNT