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A Sitcom Story
Marten Cooper had problems. He had problems with his love interest, Sasha, his job career as an emcee, and his finances. Marten Cooper’s life could be described by some as being at its nadir. However, that description would be unnecessarily dramatic for the purposes of describing the mediocrity of Marten Cooper’s unremarkable and unfulfilled life. Luckily, an interesting source of conflict was about to emerge without very much explanation to distract Marten Cooper from the monotonous tedium of his pointless existence.
Marten Cooper was awoken by a loud knocking on his apartment door. His love interest, Sasha, who was sleeping next to him, also awoke.
“You are a very inattentive and incompetent lover, Marten Cooper,” she said, deadpan. There was a hint of humanity attempting to creep into her voice but she quickly suppressed it the through use of increasingly obtuse phrasing. “I think, perhaps, that we shall part for the time being.”
Marten Cooper was conflicted. He felt the need to address the issue with his love interest, but also an equal responsibility to answering the door. He resolved to attempt both actions at the same time.
“Well,” he said, as he walked towards his goal, “I love you, and I do no—“
Unfortunately, Marten Cooper had collided with the door in an attempt to successfully coordinate both actions in tandem. A laugh track played nervously in the background. It seemed that in his attempt to juggle multiple things at once, Marten Cooper ended up unable to do any of them. Surely this was humbling experience for Marten Cooper.
“Huff,” Sasha said, instead of simply exhaling like a normal human being. “I can’t believe I am in a committed relationship lasting over several months that may or may not imply a marital interest with such an incompetent.”
A slide whistle briefly interrupted the scene for comedic timing.
“I’m going to my mother’s,” Sasha said, walking over to the door and speaking simultaneously with perfectly elegant poise. Clearly, Sasha was out of poor Marten Cooper’s league. “We will certainly not be seeing each other again in the foreseeable future, and we will certainly not be getting back together.”
Sasha opened the door. As the door opened, a copious amount of fog billowed into the apartment, accompanied by thunder and witch cackle sound effects that came packaged with the original Foley SFX cd. A bit-crushed rendition of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue began playing in the background.
“Auntie, what are you doing here at this particular time and place relative to our respective schedules?” Marten Cooper inquired.
“I am here to steal your girlfriend for nefarious purposes that I will now explain at length to you, my dear nephew!” Auntie Agonist exposited, hamming it up as usual.
Marten Cooper tried not to roll his eyes and ruin the take. “Ok.”
Sasha also said okay, but it was edited out in post-production.
“You see, my dear nephew,” she began, putting pregnant pauses and unnecessary emphasis on each word in her dialogue, “I am actually a criminal that sells young women into bondage!”
“Ok.” Marten Cooper said, shocked. How could a woman he had known since he was a child be so evil?
Marten Cooper forgot his next line.
“Well, uh, I guess I’ll just take her then!” Auntie Agonist said, substantially flustered.
Marten Cooper remembered his previous line. “How could you do this Auntie Agonist. I’ve known you since I was a child?” Shit. Now everything was out of order. Marten Cooper was also fairly certain he put the wrong emphasis on the delivery, not that it mattered.
Marten Cooper and Auntie Agonist both paused for a long time, not sure what was supposed to be said next.
Sasha stepped on both their lines to save the scene. “Marten Cooper, I realized I was wrong and I do in fact need you in my life in order to prevent unfortunate happenstances such as the following.” A true professional.
Marten Cooper walked forward and spoke, “Don’t worry, Sasha, I love you and will protect you because you are my love interest.” He gingerly tapped Auntie Agonist on her face with his fist.
“OH NO I HAVE BEEN VANQUISHED!” Auntie Agonist shrieked like a goose that dropped out of acting school after her first semester as she disintegrated from Marten’s punch.
Marten Cooper tried not to roll his eyes.
“My hero.” Sasha did her best not to act. “We will probably have sex later.”
Credits Roll. No applause.
Marten Cooper was awoken by a loud knocking on his apartment door. His love interest, Sasha, who was sleeping next to him, also awoke.
“You are a very inattentive and incompetent lover, Marten Cooper,” she said, deadpan. There was a hint of humanity attempting to creep into her voice but she quickly suppressed it the through use of increasingly obtuse phrasing. “I think, perhaps, that we shall part for the time being.”
Marten Cooper was conflicted. He felt the need to address the issue with his love interest, but also an equal responsibility to answering the door. He resolved to attempt both actions at the same time.
“Well,” he said, as he walked towards his goal, “I love you, and I do no—“
Unfortunately, Marten Cooper had collided with the door in an attempt to successfully coordinate both actions in tandem. A laugh track played nervously in the background. It seemed that in his attempt to juggle multiple things at once, Marten Cooper ended up unable to do any of them. Surely this was humbling experience for Marten Cooper.
“Huff,” Sasha said, instead of simply exhaling like a normal human being. “I can’t believe I am in a committed relationship lasting over several months that may or may not imply a marital interest with such an incompetent.”
A slide whistle briefly interrupted the scene for comedic timing.
“I’m going to my mother’s,” Sasha said, walking over to the door and speaking simultaneously with perfectly elegant poise. Clearly, Sasha was out of poor Marten Cooper’s league. “We will certainly not be seeing each other again in the foreseeable future, and we will certainly not be getting back together.”
Sasha opened the door. As the door opened, a copious amount of fog billowed into the apartment, accompanied by thunder and witch cackle sound effects that came packaged with the original Foley SFX cd. A bit-crushed rendition of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue began playing in the background.
“Auntie, what are you doing here at this particular time and place relative to our respective schedules?” Marten Cooper inquired.
“I am here to steal your girlfriend for nefarious purposes that I will now explain at length to you, my dear nephew!” Auntie Agonist exposited, hamming it up as usual.
Marten Cooper tried not to roll his eyes and ruin the take. “Ok.”
Sasha also said okay, but it was edited out in post-production.
“You see, my dear nephew,” she began, putting pregnant pauses and unnecessary emphasis on each word in her dialogue, “I am actually a criminal that sells young women into bondage!”
“Ok.” Marten Cooper said, shocked. How could a woman he had known since he was a child be so evil?
Marten Cooper forgot his next line.
“Well, uh, I guess I’ll just take her then!” Auntie Agonist said, substantially flustered.
Marten Cooper remembered his previous line. “How could you do this Auntie Agonist. I’ve known you since I was a child?” Shit. Now everything was out of order. Marten Cooper was also fairly certain he put the wrong emphasis on the delivery, not that it mattered.
Marten Cooper and Auntie Agonist both paused for a long time, not sure what was supposed to be said next.
Sasha stepped on both their lines to save the scene. “Marten Cooper, I realized I was wrong and I do in fact need you in my life in order to prevent unfortunate happenstances such as the following.” A true professional.
Marten Cooper walked forward and spoke, “Don’t worry, Sasha, I love you and will protect you because you are my love interest.” He gingerly tapped Auntie Agonist on her face with his fist.
“OH NO I HAVE BEEN VANQUISHED!” Auntie Agonist shrieked like a goose that dropped out of acting school after her first semester as she disintegrated from Marten’s punch.
Marten Cooper tried not to roll his eyes.
“My hero.” Sasha did her best not to act. “We will probably have sex later.”
Credits Roll. No applause.
That's a sandwich with quite a lot of ham in it.
I feel the generic approach did wonders for the story since it would have been unremarkable otherwise.
I sympathise with Main Chara-I mean, Martin Cooper's plight. It got a chuckle out of me.
I feel the generic approach did wonders for the story since it would have been unremarkable otherwise.
I sympathise with Main Chara-I mean, Martin Cooper's plight. It got a chuckle out of me.
That canned laughter got awfully distracting.
Oh wait, that was me.
Top stuff. Thanks for sharing.
Oh wait, that was me.
Top stuff. Thanks for sharing.
Man, my slate is being almost creepy about pairing stories up that feel very similar in intent or execution. ... Or maybe the entire round's going to be like that, with the prompt so limiting. :\
Either way, this felt at first blush a lot like (the story) Look, I Just Want My Sandwich, with its abstracted narration ... though the similarities actually end there. This really doubles down on its emotional distance, almost like we're reading an alien archaeologist trying to describe a DVD dug up in an expedition on a ruined Earth. It's a disorienting effect, but it does add some real interest to what otherwise would be a pedestrian plot. The overall effect shades way closer to creepy than funny, which feels very deliberate, so this gets some points on execution.
I'm ultimately not sure how to feel about this, though. That creepiness just sort of builds and lingers, but the actual story it frames tries to play itself straight, with the actors screwing up and recovering and ad-libbing, and that bit of humanization really feels at odds with the deliberate distance you're trying to set. Then there's the odd interjections about things like post-production which imply a familarity/intimacy with the process of the production, which again cuts against that distance.
About the only solid thing I took away from this was that it seems to be going for "hamming it up" as its prompt interpretation, since the actors certainly and consistently are. I've never heard of ham sandwiches specifically in an acting context, though, and even if I had that would feel like a stretch. Author, I hope you explain after anonymity ends how you got to this from the prompt, because this is one of those rare stories that I'm having trouble squaring with it.
Anyway, I think this is trying to do a few too many contradictory things at once. The first editing goal should be to figure out which of the multiple stories you've got here you most want to tell, and then align everything else behind that.
Tier: Needs Work
Either way, this felt at first blush a lot like (the story) Look, I Just Want My Sandwich, with its abstracted narration ... though the similarities actually end there. This really doubles down on its emotional distance, almost like we're reading an alien archaeologist trying to describe a DVD dug up in an expedition on a ruined Earth. It's a disorienting effect, but it does add some real interest to what otherwise would be a pedestrian plot. The overall effect shades way closer to creepy than funny, which feels very deliberate, so this gets some points on execution.
I'm ultimately not sure how to feel about this, though. That creepiness just sort of builds and lingers, but the actual story it frames tries to play itself straight, with the actors screwing up and recovering and ad-libbing, and that bit of humanization really feels at odds with the deliberate distance you're trying to set. Then there's the odd interjections about things like post-production which imply a familarity/intimacy with the process of the production, which again cuts against that distance.
About the only solid thing I took away from this was that it seems to be going for "hamming it up" as its prompt interpretation, since the actors certainly and consistently are. I've never heard of ham sandwiches specifically in an acting context, though, and even if I had that would feel like a stretch. Author, I hope you explain after anonymity ends how you got to this from the prompt, because this is one of those rare stories that I'm having trouble squaring with it.
Anyway, I think this is trying to do a few too many contradictory things at once. The first editing goal should be to figure out which of the multiple stories you've got here you most want to tell, and then align everything else behind that.
Tier: Needs Work
This feels experimental, and as far as that goes, I think it works. The thing is, if you had a specific goal for experimenting in the way you did, I didn't catch that. And if you didn't, then... I think you should, since as it is, this story doesn't really seem to have much of a point. There's some plot here, weird though it is, and that's good. But I didn't see any theme.
A Sitcom Story — C — First reaction: Pilot episode rejected by the studio before it finished filming
(+) I’m going to assume the stilted dialogue, the plastic scenery, and the erratic pacing is intended. If so, it’s a work of genus. (yes, that’s intentional)
(-) a criminal that sells young women into bondage. Ahem. ‘Who’ not ‘That’
Weapons: a fist. Fatalities: One
(+) I’m going to assume the stilted dialogue, the plastic scenery, and the erratic pacing is intended. If so, it’s a work of genus. (yes, that’s intentional)
(-) a criminal that sells young women into bondage. Ahem. ‘Who’ not ‘That’
Weapons: a fist. Fatalities: One
The choice of words is grand.
But besides that I don't know what to think about the story. Is this a send-up of sorts? Have you written that skit to rub in that sitcoms are lame, something we already know? :P Do you have another, more mysterious and concealed purpose? That you should never trust your lover, even after months of common life, especially when someone knocks at the door?
In any case, the takeaway for me is that aunties are weak antagonists. Whatever their name.
But besides that I don't know what to think about the story. Is this a send-up of sorts? Have you written that skit to rub in that sitcoms are lame, something we already know? :P Do you have another, more mysterious and concealed purpose? That you should never trust your lover, even after months of common life, especially when someone knocks at the door?
In any case, the takeaway for me is that aunties are weak antagonists. Whatever their name.
I'm sleepy.
>>ZaidValRoa
>>Ceffyl_Dwr
>>horizon
>>Not_A_Hat
>>georg
>>Monokeras
Thanks for feedback. I disliked this prompt a lot and wrote what I felt like instead with some tenuous connection about ham.
>>horizon
I found that you read the story with a drastically different tone than I had intended, which adds a whole new dynamic to the story I find interesting.
To explain things: the alternative story title for this would be "It's a Real Story Guys, I Promise!" which essentially is a deconstructionist parody of commonplace narrative structures and is written with the intention to have a complete character arc despite being a mini-fic. It is sort a pastiche of hackneyed sit-com writing stripped of its veneer that disguises its characters as humans as opposed to plot objects and riffs in general about low-budget television, cliches, etcetera.
The original idea I had for writing this was "What if a bunch of network executives tried to write a show?" The answer would be a low-budget, transparently functional mess, involving the worst or most apathetic actors available. It's a very absurdist piece and I didn't expect it to go down easily for most people.
I'm still surprised this story made it to the finals at all given the circumstances.
I'm tired.
>>ZaidValRoa
>>Ceffyl_Dwr
>>horizon
>>Not_A_Hat
>>georg
>>Monokeras
Thanks for feedback. I disliked this prompt a lot and wrote what I felt like instead with some tenuous connection about ham.
>>horizon
I found that you read the story with a drastically different tone than I had intended, which adds a whole new dynamic to the story I find interesting.
To explain things: the alternative story title for this would be "It's a Real Story Guys, I Promise!" which essentially is a deconstructionist parody of commonplace narrative structures and is written with the intention to have a complete character arc despite being a mini-fic. It is sort a pastiche of hackneyed sit-com writing stripped of its veneer that disguises its characters as humans as opposed to plot objects and riffs in general about low-budget television, cliches, etcetera.
The original idea I had for writing this was "What if a bunch of network executives tried to write a show?" The answer would be a low-budget, transparently functional mess, involving the worst or most apathetic actors available. It's a very absurdist piece and I didn't expect it to go down easily for most people.
I'm still surprised this story made it to the finals at all given the circumstances.
I'm tired.