Conversations from The Edge
103.9
The other day I happened to catch a snippet of Saturday Night Live. Don't worry, I just kicked my own ass for using the term "snippet." Anyway, the musical guest was The Shins. I like The Shins; that one song, "New Slang," it'll change your life I swear. But I've never seen them perform live and it was interesting. The lead singer James Mercer doesn't really sing as much as he stands there and speaks melodically. And this makes me wonder - what would a conversation with him be like?
[Our play opens in the reading room of palatial Montgomery Manor. James Mercer sits in an antique Brewster Chair surrounded by mahogany bookshelves filled with leather-bound first-editions and rarities. He picks up a newspaper and begins to read. Soon, Montgomery walks in.]
Montgomery: Hey Jimmy, I hope you enjoyed breakfast. Sorry we didn't have any condor eggs on hand. What's going on in the world?
James Mercer: God speed, all the bakers at dawn. May they all cut their thumbs...
Montgomery: Did you just put a curse on bakers? How Shakespearean.
James Mercer: They bleed into their buns...
Montgomery: Wait..does that mean they really did cut their thumbs? I thought you were being weird. The bled into their buns? That's just unsanitary.
James Mercer: 'til they melt away.
Montgomery: Gross! Anyway, how are you?
James Mercer: I'm looking in on the good life.
Montgomery: I know, dude. Isn't this place sweet? I was thinking of
James Mercer: I might be doomed never to find.
Montgomery: Way to interupt, Debbie Downer.
James Mercer: Without a trust or flaming fields. Am I too dumb to refine?
Montgomery: Okay, you're a little too weird. I'm going to look for Thom.
-----
[Scene 2. Montgomery approaches the polo grounds behind the mansion. A game is in progress - it's the middle of the 4th chukker. Thom Yorke, that guy from Radiohead, is on a pure black horse with a single white circle around it's left eye, obviously a metaphor for something. Thom Yorke sees Montgomery standing at the edge of the field. A timeout is called and he approaches Montgomery on his mount.]
Montgomery: Hey Thom. I was just talking to James and he was getting all wacky on me. I came out here looking for a sane conversation.
Thom Yorke: Karma Police! Arrest this man!
Montgomery: Whoa whoa, what the hell?
Thom Yorke: He talks in math, he buzzes like a fridge, he's like a detuned radio.
Montgomery: Oh, I see what you're doing. Well if you didn't want to talk, you could've just said so. You're a real jerk, you know that?
Thom Yorke: This is what you get, when you mess with us.
Montgomery: That's it. i'm going to have to axe you to leave. And please leave your gift bag with the butler. You don't deserve bath salts.
-----
[Scene 3. Montgomery, obviously agitated, is stomping through his abode in a full blown huff. He stroms into the conservatory. The room is full of plants, both exotic and domestic, and standing in the middle is Frank Black, who happens to be throwing tennis balls at butterflies.]
Montgomery: I can't believe this crap. I invite these people over and they all act like weirdos and jerks. This is the last time I invite the superstars of alternative indie-rock to my place for a weekend of relaxation!
Frank Black:Oooooh - stop
Montgomery: Oh, hi Frank. I didn't see you there. I was too busy being in a tizzy. "Busy in a tizzy" - you should use that in a song. Oh god, I can't believe I said that. I swore I would do that. Sorry. But like I said, I'm in a mood.
Frank Black: With your feet in the air and your head on the ground.
Montgomery: Yeah, I'm all over the place. I feel so turned around.
Frank Black: Try this trick and spin it, yeah.
Montgomery: You're right. I need to get myself straight before I start forbidding indie-rockers from the estate.
Frank Black: Your head will collapse.
Montgomery: Of course. I'm in a self-destructive hate-spiral.
Frank Black: And there's nothing in it.
Montgomery: So true. I overreacted. I knew about these guys when I eVited them. I have no reason to be so angry, and no right to making rash decisions.
Frank Black: And you'll ask yourself, "Where is my mind?"
Montgomery: You're so wise, Frank. Lets go to the grotto and make some mojitos for the gang. Give the butterflies a break.
[The men hold hands and walk off stage]
Fin
The other day I happened to catch a snippet of Saturday Night Live. Don't worry, I just kicked my own ass for using the term "snippet." Anyway, the musical guest was The Shins. I like The Shins; that one song, "New Slang," it'll change your life I swear. But I've never seen them perform live and it was interesting. The lead singer James Mercer doesn't really sing as much as he stands there and speaks melodically. And this makes me wonder - what would a conversation with him be like?
[Our play opens in the reading room of palatial Montgomery Manor. James Mercer sits in an antique Brewster Chair surrounded by mahogany bookshelves filled with leather-bound first-editions and rarities. He picks up a newspaper and begins to read. Soon, Montgomery walks in.]
Montgomery: Hey Jimmy, I hope you enjoyed breakfast. Sorry we didn't have any condor eggs on hand. What's going on in the world?
James Mercer: God speed, all the bakers at dawn. May they all cut their thumbs...
Montgomery: Did you just put a curse on bakers? How Shakespearean.
James Mercer: They bleed into their buns...
Montgomery: Wait..does that mean they really did cut their thumbs? I thought you were being weird. The bled into their buns? That's just unsanitary.
James Mercer: 'til they melt away.
Montgomery: Gross! Anyway, how are you?
James Mercer: I'm looking in on the good life.
Montgomery: I know, dude. Isn't this place sweet? I was thinking of
James Mercer: I might be doomed never to find.
Montgomery: Way to interupt, Debbie Downer.
James Mercer: Without a trust or flaming fields. Am I too dumb to refine?
Montgomery: Okay, you're a little too weird. I'm going to look for Thom.
-----
[Scene 2. Montgomery approaches the polo grounds behind the mansion. A game is in progress - it's the middle of the 4th chukker. Thom Yorke, that guy from Radiohead, is on a pure black horse with a single white circle around it's left eye, obviously a metaphor for something. Thom Yorke sees Montgomery standing at the edge of the field. A timeout is called and he approaches Montgomery on his mount.]
Montgomery: Hey Thom. I was just talking to James and he was getting all wacky on me. I came out here looking for a sane conversation.
Thom Yorke: Karma Police! Arrest this man!
Montgomery: Whoa whoa, what the hell?
Thom Yorke: He talks in math, he buzzes like a fridge, he's like a detuned radio.
Montgomery: Oh, I see what you're doing. Well if you didn't want to talk, you could've just said so. You're a real jerk, you know that?
Thom Yorke: This is what you get, when you mess with us.
Montgomery: That's it. i'm going to have to axe you to leave. And please leave your gift bag with the butler. You don't deserve bath salts.
-----
[Scene 3. Montgomery, obviously agitated, is stomping through his abode in a full blown huff. He stroms into the conservatory. The room is full of plants, both exotic and domestic, and standing in the middle is Frank Black, who happens to be throwing tennis balls at butterflies.]
Montgomery: I can't believe this crap. I invite these people over and they all act like weirdos and jerks. This is the last time I invite the superstars of alternative indie-rock to my place for a weekend of relaxation!
Frank Black:Oooooh - stop
Montgomery: Oh, hi Frank. I didn't see you there. I was too busy being in a tizzy. "Busy in a tizzy" - you should use that in a song. Oh god, I can't believe I said that. I swore I would do that. Sorry. But like I said, I'm in a mood.
Frank Black: With your feet in the air and your head on the ground.
Montgomery: Yeah, I'm all over the place. I feel so turned around.
Frank Black: Try this trick and spin it, yeah.
Montgomery: You're right. I need to get myself straight before I start forbidding indie-rockers from the estate.
Frank Black: Your head will collapse.
Montgomery: Of course. I'm in a self-destructive hate-spiral.
Frank Black: And there's nothing in it.
Montgomery: So true. I overreacted. I knew about these guys when I eVited them. I have no reason to be so angry, and no right to making rash decisions.
Frank Black: And you'll ask yourself, "Where is my mind?"
Montgomery: You're so wise, Frank. Lets go to the grotto and make some mojitos for the gang. Give the butterflies a break.
[The men hold hands and walk off stage]
Fin
posted by Montgomery at 8:44 AM
1 Comments:
If this was a French play, the two men would join hands and then together jump from a bridge.
Fin.
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