Post by Old Dragon (Al) on Mar 26, 2006 15:23:33 GMT 1
Please DO NOT post in this thread. It is ONLY for use by the warring factions concerned and the story episodes.
Those wishing to comment will have another thread for the purpose. In that way it will be easier for all to follow the battle as it unfolds. Thank you.
The Price of Eggs
an e-play written especially for TRPD
by
Ivor Resentment & Don T I Nowhit
Characters:
Jack (Mr. Meldrew) – Mid 60s
Meirion (the shaman) – 50s
Pretentious Woman – 50s (Bucket woman)
Dithering Woman – 50s (Mop woman)
Doddery Bird - 80s (With Zimmer frame.)
Act 1
Scene 1
Jack’s kitchen. Afternoon. Meirion seated at table with mug of tea and newspaper. Jack cleaning eggs and putting them into boxes near sink. Boxes of six and twelve eggs piled up.
Jack:
They’re laying well now. About time, too.
Merion:
Late spring, see? Three weeks behind last year. Birds always know – and talking of birds, the bucket woman’s coming.
Jack:
[Alarmed.] No! It is her!
[Enter Pretentious Woman breezing in as if she owns the place.]
Pretentious Woman:
Coooeee! It’s only me… No need for your gentleman friend to get up. [Clearly expects Meirion to do so – he doesn’t move.] I only want to buy some of your delicious, fresh, free-range and organically fed chickens eggs. How much do you charge for your eggs?
Jack:
[Taken aback by the invasion.] This is not a shop.
[Merion raises newspaper and pretends to read.]
Pretentious Woman:
Well, of course it isn’t a shop. It is your house, silly. [Opens her purse.] Now, how much are your eggs?
Jack:
80p for half a dozen; £1.50p for a dozen.
Pretentious Woman.
No. That’s not right.
Jack:
Madam, I can assure you that is what I charge for my eggs. It’s a very good price. Less than in the shops and my eggs will be fresher.
Pretentious Woman:
Yes, yes, but you are wrong.
Jack:
I think you will find I am right… Do you want some eggs or not?
Pretentious Woman:
Well, of course I want some eggs. That is why I came to see you. I would like some fresh, free range and organic eggs because only the very best eggs will do for my special meringues - but you are wrong about the price.
Jack:
[Impatient.] I am right… How many eggs do you want?
Pretentious Woman:
[Opening egg boxes to look and feel the contents] I would like a dozen of your freshest brown eggs.
Jack:
They are all fresh and all brown and they cost £1.50p a dozen.
[Meirion raises mug of tea to drink.]
Pretentious Woman:
No, they do not – and some must be fresher than others. Some are browner.
[Meirion chokes on tea.]
Jack:
[Exasperated, gives a dozen sized box of eggs to Pretentious Woman.] That will be £1.50p, please.
Pretentious Woman:
No it won’t. I’ll show you I am right. [Opens box of eggs and illustrates her point.] Six eggs plus six eggs equals twelve eggs, and 80p plus 80p equals £1.60p. [Gives Jack £1.60p, counting it out into his hand slowly.] Watch now … there is a one pound coin, a fifty pence piece and a ten pence.
Jack:
[Thrusting the ten pence piece back at Pretentious Woman.] The price of a dozen of MY eggs IS £1.50p!
Pretentious Woman:
No, no, no! It is not, Mr. Meldrew! It is £1.60p. [Pushes the 10p back into Jack’s hand.] Clearly you didn’t pay attention to your teachers when in school.
[Meirion, behind newspaper, stifles laughter, masking it with coughs.]
Jack:
[Slaps the £1.60p down by the boxes of eggs, snatches back the box of a dozen eggs from Pretentious Woman and thrusts two boxes of six eggs into her hands.] There! Happy now?
Pretentious Woman:
I'm so pleased you now see that it was, in fact, me who was right about the price. [Opens egg boxes and examines contents.] Oh yes, thank you, these eggs do look browner…
Meirion:
Still damp, see?… Eggs always look browner when they are damp.
Pretentious Woman:
Damp?... Oh, yes, of course… They would be damp if they’d just been layed.
Meirion:
Yes, but…
Jack:
[Glares warning at Meirion; herds Pretentious Woman towards door.] If there is nothing else, Madam…
Pretentious Woman:
Well, not today, thank you, but I shall be sure to require more of your eggs for the weekend. Kindly save me some of the freshest, won’t you.
[Pretentious Woman exits. Jack slams the door behind her.]
Meirion:
[Grins.] I was only going to tell her they were damp ‘cos you’d just wiped the crap off ‘em.
Jack:
I know what you were about to tell her! Do you think I am stupid as well as her?
Meirion:
It’s not for me to take your inventory, Jack…
Jack:
And that’s another thing… She thinks my name’s Mr. blooming Meldrew, all thanks to you! You were the one that…
Meirion:
I was… Must have been one of them senior moment things and it just slipped out that time when you’d been ranting away and sounding just like him off the telly.
Jack:
Well, she now thinks I can’t add up as well – and that I don’t know what I charge for my own chickens eggs!
Meirion:
So what’s the problem? She went off happy with her eggs and you gained an extra 10p.
Jack:
That’s not the point! Now she’ll be telling everyone that I can’t count!
Meirion:
So what? It could be good advertising for you – and free. Happen if folk think you can’t count they’ll come and buy more eggs and you’ll be able to get more profit… You could always put the price up to £1.60p a dozen.
Jack:
What? And have her think I don’t know the price of my own eggs and she taught me how to add up the price of eggs?
Meirion:
This has got nothing to do with the price of eggs.
Jack:
It’s got everything to do with the price of eggs!
Merion:
Have it your way.
Jack:
I will! I am going for a walk! [Jack exits.]
© TRPD – March 2006
Those wishing to comment will have another thread for the purpose. In that way it will be easier for all to follow the battle as it unfolds. Thank you.
The Price of Eggs
an e-play written especially for TRPD
by
Ivor Resentment & Don T I Nowhit
Characters:
Jack (Mr. Meldrew) – Mid 60s
Meirion (the shaman) – 50s
Pretentious Woman – 50s (Bucket woman)
Dithering Woman – 50s (Mop woman)
Doddery Bird - 80s (With Zimmer frame.)
Act 1
Scene 1
Jack’s kitchen. Afternoon. Meirion seated at table with mug of tea and newspaper. Jack cleaning eggs and putting them into boxes near sink. Boxes of six and twelve eggs piled up.
Jack:
They’re laying well now. About time, too.
Merion:
Late spring, see? Three weeks behind last year. Birds always know – and talking of birds, the bucket woman’s coming.
Jack:
[Alarmed.] No! It is her!
[Enter Pretentious Woman breezing in as if she owns the place.]
Pretentious Woman:
Coooeee! It’s only me… No need for your gentleman friend to get up. [Clearly expects Meirion to do so – he doesn’t move.] I only want to buy some of your delicious, fresh, free-range and organically fed chickens eggs. How much do you charge for your eggs?
Jack:
[Taken aback by the invasion.] This is not a shop.
[Merion raises newspaper and pretends to read.]
Pretentious Woman:
Well, of course it isn’t a shop. It is your house, silly. [Opens her purse.] Now, how much are your eggs?
Jack:
80p for half a dozen; £1.50p for a dozen.
Pretentious Woman.
No. That’s not right.
Jack:
Madam, I can assure you that is what I charge for my eggs. It’s a very good price. Less than in the shops and my eggs will be fresher.
Pretentious Woman:
Yes, yes, but you are wrong.
Jack:
I think you will find I am right… Do you want some eggs or not?
Pretentious Woman:
Well, of course I want some eggs. That is why I came to see you. I would like some fresh, free range and organic eggs because only the very best eggs will do for my special meringues - but you are wrong about the price.
Jack:
[Impatient.] I am right… How many eggs do you want?
Pretentious Woman:
[Opening egg boxes to look and feel the contents] I would like a dozen of your freshest brown eggs.
Jack:
They are all fresh and all brown and they cost £1.50p a dozen.
[Meirion raises mug of tea to drink.]
Pretentious Woman:
No, they do not – and some must be fresher than others. Some are browner.
[Meirion chokes on tea.]
Jack:
[Exasperated, gives a dozen sized box of eggs to Pretentious Woman.] That will be £1.50p, please.
Pretentious Woman:
No it won’t. I’ll show you I am right. [Opens box of eggs and illustrates her point.] Six eggs plus six eggs equals twelve eggs, and 80p plus 80p equals £1.60p. [Gives Jack £1.60p, counting it out into his hand slowly.] Watch now … there is a one pound coin, a fifty pence piece and a ten pence.
Jack:
[Thrusting the ten pence piece back at Pretentious Woman.] The price of a dozen of MY eggs IS £1.50p!
Pretentious Woman:
No, no, no! It is not, Mr. Meldrew! It is £1.60p. [Pushes the 10p back into Jack’s hand.] Clearly you didn’t pay attention to your teachers when in school.
[Meirion, behind newspaper, stifles laughter, masking it with coughs.]
Jack:
[Slaps the £1.60p down by the boxes of eggs, snatches back the box of a dozen eggs from Pretentious Woman and thrusts two boxes of six eggs into her hands.] There! Happy now?
Pretentious Woman:
I'm so pleased you now see that it was, in fact, me who was right about the price. [Opens egg boxes and examines contents.] Oh yes, thank you, these eggs do look browner…
Meirion:
Still damp, see?… Eggs always look browner when they are damp.
Pretentious Woman:
Damp?... Oh, yes, of course… They would be damp if they’d just been layed.
Meirion:
Yes, but…
Jack:
[Glares warning at Meirion; herds Pretentious Woman towards door.] If there is nothing else, Madam…
Pretentious Woman:
Well, not today, thank you, but I shall be sure to require more of your eggs for the weekend. Kindly save me some of the freshest, won’t you.
[Pretentious Woman exits. Jack slams the door behind her.]
Meirion:
[Grins.] I was only going to tell her they were damp ‘cos you’d just wiped the crap off ‘em.
Jack:
I know what you were about to tell her! Do you think I am stupid as well as her?
Meirion:
It’s not for me to take your inventory, Jack…
Jack:
And that’s another thing… She thinks my name’s Mr. blooming Meldrew, all thanks to you! You were the one that…
Meirion:
I was… Must have been one of them senior moment things and it just slipped out that time when you’d been ranting away and sounding just like him off the telly.
Jack:
Well, she now thinks I can’t add up as well – and that I don’t know what I charge for my own chickens eggs!
Meirion:
So what’s the problem? She went off happy with her eggs and you gained an extra 10p.
Jack:
That’s not the point! Now she’ll be telling everyone that I can’t count!
Meirion:
So what? It could be good advertising for you – and free. Happen if folk think you can’t count they’ll come and buy more eggs and you’ll be able to get more profit… You could always put the price up to £1.60p a dozen.
Jack:
What? And have her think I don’t know the price of my own eggs and she taught me how to add up the price of eggs?
Meirion:
This has got nothing to do with the price of eggs.
Jack:
It’s got everything to do with the price of eggs!
Merion:
Have it your way.
Jack:
I will! I am going for a walk! [Jack exits.]
© TRPD – March 2006