| Scene 1: After last week's dramatic cliffhanger - MR SPONTANEOUS being sent off to military school - Spontaneous attempts to settle in. Drill Sergeant: ...And only through this rigorous schedule of fitness and skill training and a keen dedication to bastardisation rituals and sodomy will you become the fine young men needed to lead this country forward....in war and in peace. Girl Recruit: But what about the women here, sir? Drill Sergeant: [Pausing to think] Girls don't count in the army...[To Group] Ok, men, that's enough for today's session. Tomorrow we'll convene at 0800 hours for pinball in the recreation room - or as you kids call it, the 'rec' room. Dismissed! Mr Spontaneous: [To Drill Sergeant] Ah, Sir, could I have a moment? Drill Sergeant: Sure, Private....What seems to be eatin' ya jelly, son? Mr Spontaneous: Well, it's just that - I'm sorry, did you just say 'eatin' ya jelly'? Drill Sergeant: Yes, why yes I did. Mr Spontaneous: Right [Pause] And exactly what does that mean, again? Drill Sergeant: Oh, it's an old saying from back when I lived in the country, son. 'Jelly' is a metaphor for 'brain'. 'Grey Matter'. 'Head goo'. Mr Spontaneous: Oh, right, right - 'head goo'; I like that one. Drill Sergeant: One o' my favourites. So, son, you were saying? Mr Spontaneous: Right, well, if I were to just, say, make a dash for the perimeter fence, scale the barbed wire and try to run off into the scrub, thereby making my escape, what would you do? Drill Sergeant: Well, of course we'd have to shoot you before you made it out... Mr Spontaneous: [Disappointed] Right... Drill Sergeant: ...Usually we'll time it right so that we hit your body with a clean shot which sends you plummeting to the ground on this side of the fence...so that even as you lay bleeding on the ground, slipping away into the ethereal Great Beyond, you're still on Army property. We like to break people's spirits entirely before they pass away. Mr Spontaneous: Uh-huh...So, basically, this place is like prison except we learn how to fire guns while prisoners already know how to. Drill Sergeant: No, no, we can't even teach gun-craft anymores...The Government banned us after another guy used his rifle to pick off people from a clocktower...So now we just use prop guns left over from the making of The Thin Red Line and other war films. Mr Spontaneous: Wait, so the army doesn't even use real guns anymore? Drill Sergeant: No sir...you see, the trick is to look like you're carrying a real gun and know how to use it, and scare the opposition into cowardly surrender. Besides, with today's sophisticated machines of war you can hit a button and bomb Iraq or Serbia while you're heating up some crumpets. Mr Spontaneous: Uh-huh. Drill Sergeant: Not that I eat crumpets myself. Mr Spontaneous: Of course not. Well Sir, in about 5 seconds I'm going to make bolt for escape. Just warning you. Drill Sergeant: I wouldn't do that son. I'm not allowed to carry a gun myself no more, but I do have this acorn in my pocket. If you attempt escape from the barracks I will be forced to throw it at you. You have been warned. Mr Spontaneous: Your threats don't frighten a man on the edge. [The Drill Sergeant produces the acorn from his pocket] Mr Spontaneous: That's one helluva big acorn. Alright, you win. Scene 2: Back in town, MONROE, CYNTHIA and HAMISH try to rally passers-by into helping SPONTANEOUS get out of the army and come home. Monroe: [Chanting] Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Cynthia: [Approaching a Woman on the street] Ma'am, would you agree with me in saying it is hardly fair to whisk a young man off to army camp? We are campaigning on behalf of our friend Mr Spontaneous, pleading that his parents see reason and free him from this obvious attack on his civil rights as an adult. [Pause] Woman: That Spontaneous kid set fire to my house. He said it was a Pagan ceremony; I think he just has ADD*. Hamish: Well, in all fairness ma'am, there are many practising Pagans still, despite a decrease in numbers over the hundreds of years. It was probably just an honest accident. Woman: Then why was my house doused in petrol? Hamish: [Long Pause] ...He just likes fire, that's all. He was born that way-- Woman: --Save it. I have to go to the welfare office. [Picks up blonde-haired child] C'mon lil' Zachariah, we're leaving. Cynthia: [To Hamish] Well, that was slightly more fruitful than the last few people. Hamish: Yeah, especially that creepy guy trying to sell us life insurance. Cynthia: Oh well...Monroe hasn't given up hope... Monroe: [Still chanting] Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Cynthia: You seem very enthusiastic, Mon. Monroe: Sponty's been my best friend since kindergarten. Plus, he hid my asthma puffer somewhere and I...[Starts wheezing heavily] Cynthia: Monroe? Monroe?!! Are you ok?!! Monroe: [Nodding 'Yes'] ...Yeah, I-I'm....[Coughs]...I'm fine. As I was saying, I need to find it. [Pause] Cynthia: Duh. [Pause] Monroe: Save Spon-tan-e-ous! Save Spon-tan-- Cynthia: Yeah, Monroe, could you come up with something a little less monotonous? Monroe: Oh, ah, ok...I just thought that if I battered people with monotony we'd get our point across. Works for Limp Bizkit. Hamish: They have a point?.... Monroe: Ok, I'll use my freestyle rap skills to think up something more peppy... [A Second Woman approaches their table] Cynthia: Oh, hello ma'am. You saw the sign and you wish to register your support? Second Woman: [Distraught] N-N-No, I-I....My child's missing. [Calling out] Jason? Jason?... Cynthia: Your child? What does he look like, ma'am? Second Woman: Well, he's only a toddler...He was just around here. Blonde hair, blue eyes... Cynthia: Blonde hair?...Ohh...This crazy lady took off to the welfare office with her son Zachariah just now. He had blon-- Second Woman: [Angry] That child-stealing crack-whore...That's the third time this week she's taken my little Jason, just so she can claim child support! [The Second Woman turns and runs in the direction of the welfare office] Second Woman: [Yelling back to Cynthia] If the police ask you later, we never had this conversation. Cynthia: O-K....Well, I don't think we're getting anywhere here...Wanna go visit Sponty? It's 'Talent Night' tonight at the army barracks. Hamish: Yeah, sure... Monroe: I've got one....[Rapping] To the casual observer our man Sponty's all front...But deep inside he's just a funny cun-- Cynthia: --Not now, Monroe. No-one's interested. Come on, we're going to visit Sponty. Monroe: Sponty Sp-Sp-Sponty, S-S-S-Sponty...BREAK IT DOWN!... Scene 3: Inside the army barracks' hall, SPONTANEOUS performs improvised stand-up to an attentive crowd of privates. In walk CYNTHIA, MONROE and HAMISH. Mr Spontaneous: ...Ok, so, ah, with all of you being in the modern army, I'm assuming you all take good care of your teeth?...What I find is that, when you brush a little too aggressively, your gums start to bleed - who here has that problem occasionally, a show of hands? [Lots of hands go up amongst the audience] Mr S.: ...Yeah, just like I thought...Now, I want you to keep your hand up if you smear that blood all over your face and dream of slaughtering men in armoured combat? [Hands go down] Mr S.: Now that is odd for the army... [Lots of laughter] Mr S.: Where are all the damned psychopaths in today's army? There's something very wrong... Cynthia: [To Hamish] He's killing - even with this crappy material. Hamish: Yeah, I know. Odd - I've never seen people laugh with him...it's generally laughter at him. Mr S.: ...But seriously...As some of you may now, I'm only a fairly new recruit to this place. Standard story - my parents were sick of me and my dangerous behaviour...what better place to send me than one where young men are taught to kill? [Laughter] Mr S.: ...Makes sense, right?...Man....But yeah, until recently I was free. You know what we have out there now? [Pause] 'Reality Television'. Think about that: 'Reality Television'. That's as big an oxymoron as 'Mentally-Stable Army Recruits'. [Laughter] Mr S.: ...And what about that kooky Drill Sergeant? You know what he threatened me with this morning?...An acorn!....[Laughter]...What the hell is that all about?!...I guess it's in his pocket in case he ever needs to feed the squirrel up his ass. [Lots of laughter] Mr S.: [Seeing Cynthia et al] Alright, thanks a lot, you've been great! [Cheers and applause as Sponty leaves the stage] [Sponty approaches the gang] Mr S.: Ah, so, you've come to pity me, all locked up, have you? Cynthia: No, you hardened cynic...We just came to visit and tell you how our appeal to have you released is going... Mr S.: Oh yeah? And how is it goi-- Hamish: --Badly. Mr S.: Oh. Monroe: On the plus side, however, I have created an impressive range of chants and protest songs about you. Mr S.: Well, that's something...Ah, I don't care anyway...I've actually quickly grown to love it in here. I have my stand-up...finally a place full of people who appreciate and applaud my stupidity and wacky insights. Cynthia: Yeah, we noticed! Well done! Mr S.: It's all that keeps me sane. My world is kitchen duty, fitness training and unwelcomed homosexual advances with only stand-up to bring sweet respite. [A Man taps Sponty on the shoulder, causing him to turn around] Man: Hello there, I'm Craig Fildano from the entertainment management firm Gilchester, Whore & Whitely and I just saw your fantastic act. Mr S.: Well, thankyou sir. Craig: No, that wasn't a sincere compliment; I was just buttering you up. Anyway, we at GWW would be delighted if you signed with us. Mr S.: Signed...with...you? Craig: Yes, that's right. We want to get you on the road immediately, touring run-down RSL clubs and seedy strip joints peddling your act. You see, our firm specialises in disgruntled army comics like yourself. Mr S.: 'Disgruntled army comics'? Isn't that a fairly restrictive area to specialise in? Craig: Yes, you're right. Usually if am army member is disgruntled he just lashes out at people violently with his new-found combat skills...but occassionally you find a comic talent with little blood shed on his hands - like you. That's why our area is so lucrative. Mr S.: I see. So, can you get me out of this hell-hole as soon as possible? Craig: Yes, most probably...But you have to keep the uniform - it's part of your 'schtick'. Mr S.: Cool, I have a 'schtick'...Ah, by the way, these are my friends Monroe and Cynthia and my part-friend/part-hated foe Hamish. Monroe: Hi. Cynthia:Hello. Hamish: He's spot-on about the whole friend-foe thing. Craig: Well, it's nice to meet you all. [To Sponty] ...If you'll just sign this contract I'll have you out of here by 10pm. Mr S.: Ok, well I'll-- wait, why 10pm? Craig: Because that's when the perimeter guards are on supper break. We can easily scale the fence and walk back into town. Mr S.: Ahhh, so you can't legitimately get me out? Craig: Le..git..i...i...i... Mr S.: Yeah, 'legitimately'? [Pause] Craig: I'm sorry, I'm an agent. I have no idea what that word means.......Look, if you'll just sign here, here, here, here and here I'll have you out of here faster than you can say 'exploitation'. Mr S.: Did you say 'exploitation'? Craig: What? No, I said 'exciting showbusiness job prospect'. [Long Pause] Mr S.: But that sounds nothing like 'exploitation'. Craig: Ex-actly! Now, sign those papers. Cynthia: Aaaaah...excuse me, Sponty, could we have a word? Mr S.: Aaah...Sure.... Craig: ...Make sure you sign those papers! [Sponty, Cynthia, Hamish and Monroe move away from Craig Fildano] Cynthia: [Whispering to Sponty] Look, this guy is 'shady' with a capital S-H-A-D-Y. He's shadier than how George W. Bush became President. Don't sign his papers. Mr S.: I know what you mean, but this might be my big chance. Hamish: Sponty, I just saw him adjusting his illegal ivory underwear! The guy's pure human garbage! Mr S.: Hey, look, don't criticise a guy just because of his poor fashion sense...Look, I'm signing the contract...What do you think, Mon? Monroe: I don't know... Mr S.: You don't know? I thought you were the one who had shrewdly and expediently built a popcorn empire?! [Pause] Monroe: Look, I could sing you a chant if you wanted... Mr S.: Nononononono, don't sing.....Look, I've made up my mind. I'm signing. Craig: Good! Mr S.: [Turns around, terrified] Jesus Christ! How'd you get behind me like that without me noticing??! Craig: Aaah, nevermind that...Just sign! [Sponty looks puzzled, then relents and signs] Craig: Excellent.....Ok, come on, we've got to move. It's almost 10 o'clock. Mr S.: [To group] Ok, well, I've just got to bust out of the army. Cynthia: [Disapproving] Alright... Mr S.: I'll call you all the first chance I get. Craig: Hurry Up! The tablets I put in th guards' drinks will wear out soon! Mr S.: I thought you said it was supper?! Craig: Well it is - kind of.....MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!! [Spontaneous shrugs, the two leave to escape] Cynthia: That man is evil. I'm so worried for Sponty. Hamish: Aaah, screw Sponty. He was dumb enough to sign a contract without legal counsel - let it be on his head. Monroe: Alright, let's go...Clearly you two need cheering up, so on the drive home...It's chant time! 'Ooh, Aah, Glenn McGrath! Ooh, Aah...' Cynthia: Monroe... Monroe: Yep...Sorry. SPONTANEOUS IS ESCAPING FROM ARMY CAMP, BUT ARE HIS PROBLEMS JUST BEGINNING? HOW DO YOU THINK A 'DISGRUNTLED ARMY COMIC' STAND-UP ACT WILL PLAY WITH A CROWD NOT FILLED WITH MORONS? IS CRAIG FILDANO THE DEVIL? WHY DO THEY EVEN BOTHER SELLING THOSE 'FUN-SIZE' CHOCOLATE BARS WHEN YOU COULD EAT THE WHOLE THING IN ONE BITE? ISN'T THAT STUPID? IS IT OBVIOUS I'M JUST PADDING THIS OUT? IF A TREE FALLS IN A FOREST, WILL A GUY THINK ABOUT IT SO HARD HIS HEAD EXPLODES? IT'S ABOUT TIME I PUT THIS EPISODE TO REST, HUH? WILL CYNTHIA GET BETTER FRIENDS? FOR THE ANSWERS TO A FEW OF THESE QUESTIONS (PROBABLY THE ONE ABOUT 'FUN-SIZE'), COME BACK NEXT WEEK FOR EPISODE #3D OF 'MR SPONTANEOUS'!! |