Flamenco Sketches

 You don't make friends by being a violent mist.

That's right! That's how I'm going to start this. And later, when it automatically gets posted to Facebook, I'm going to read it and hate myself. And you.

(Not you. I'm talking to the myself that's reading this on Facebook. Though the little preview probably won't be this long)

Merry Christmas.

A funny thing happened to me the other day. I was in a room in building, and someone (let's call them a person) came up to me and said some words. I said some words. This exchange continued for some time, and then I went home and went to sleep and went.

I resent myself for writing this. I don't have to write it. But I am.

I'm putting together a portfolio of comedy sketches. Apparently. I wasn't before I wrote that sentence, but you can't argue with grammar and vocabulary.

Well, you can argue with them. Using them as tools. But you can't argue against them. With the possible exception of all arguments ever had.

I'm a brilliant sketch writer. Apparently. I didn't think I'd be so arrogant, but look back there at the beginning of this paragraph. It's as clear as words on a computer screen.

We all remember some of my greatest sketches. No we don't. Even I don't believe that.

Remember the 'The World's Tallest Man' sketch?

Remember that thing about hares?

Remember that other sketch that didn't quite work?

Remember the 'man links to his previous sketches' sketch? From 2 August 2011? Classic stuff.

Remember this one (I had forgotten it before I searched for 'sketch' in my blog archive)?

You're not even going to click on those links, are you?

I don't blame you, of course. You're busy people. Reading one of these posts is bad enough, let alone four other, older, posts of limited appeal.

But I'm putting together my portfolio, you see. Apparently I haven't forgotten about that.

Looking at those candidates, only the Tallest Man sketch could possibly be turned into something, and it would need an extensive rewrite. So I'd better come up with some new ones.

Luckily, dialogue is my mistress and structure is my misteress. I can knock out sketches faster than Mike Tyson knocks out sentences. I'm going to send these to Mitchell and Webb when I've finished. Or one of those other sketch duos, like Arm & Hammer, or Baddiel or No Diel.

***

Hebb: You know 2?

Hitchell: What?

Hebb: You know 2? The number 2.

Hitchell: Yes, Robert. I am aware of the number 2.

Hebb: Well... I was just thinking about 2...

Hitchell: Were you?

Hebb: Yeah. I was thinking about 2. 

Hitchell: Well, that's marvelous.

Hebb: No, there's more.

Hitchell: Thank God. I was just thinking "I hope Robert has some insight on the number 2 that he wishes to impart".

Hebb: If you took 2, right, and added another 2, I think you'd get 5.

Hitchell: No you wouldn't.

Hebb: Yes you would! 2 + 2 = 5. It's obvious!

Hitchell: 2 + 2 = 5? No, Robert. That's not obvious. That's the exact opposite of obvious. If someone wanted to illustrate in a book the concept of something not being obvious, 2 + 2 =5 is the example they would use.

Hebb: Look, it's 5, OK? I read about it in a book.

Hitchell: Was this a book of incorrect mathematical equations?

Hebb: You think you're so big and clever. Have you ever considered you might be wrong?

Hitchell: Yes I have. About some things, I might be wrong. I admit it. But in stating that 2 + 2 is not 5, I am categorically not wrong.

Hebb: Well, what is it?

Hitchell: What is what?

Hebb: 2 + 2.

Hitchell: It's 4.

Hebb: Ah-ha! You've made a cardinal mistake! There is no number 4!

Hitchell: There is no number 4? Are you trying to tell me that 4 is a figment of my imagination? I've imagined a number?

Hebb: Yes! You stupid idiot!

Hitchell: What time is it?

Hebb: What?

Hitchell: What time is it?

Hebb: Half past four. (BEAT) Shit.

***

No-one asked for it, but this is pretty much the best parody of Mitchell and Webb anyone has ever done.

There's one for the portfolio.

Arm & Hammer aren't a real comedy duo, so I can't do a parody of them. It's a shame, because I'm evidently brilliant at parodies.

I think the gender balance in my sketches is skewed towards the male. This is because I am a man and have an inherently misogynistic bias. To remedy this fault, the following sketch will contain only female characters.

***

Woman 1: Woman 2?

Woman 3: She's not here.

Woman 1: Why not?

Woman 3: She left in a huff.

Woman 1: Typical. That's absolutely typical. Woman 2 all over.

Woman 3: She said it was your fault.

Woman 1: My fault? What for?

Woman 3: She said you demean her.

Woman 1: What? She doesn't even know what 'demean'  means.

Woman 3: Demean means? Has this got something to do with Heinz?

Woman 1: I "demean" her! That's ridiculous. How do I demean her?

Woman 3: Well, you call her 'Woman 2'. 

Woman 1: That's her name!

Woman 3: No it isn't. She's called Kirsty.

Woman 1: What? I've been calling her Woman 2 for years!

Woman 3: I know. She knows. That's why she left.

Woman 1: What's wrong with her being Woman 2? We're three women. I'm Woman 1, and it suits me fine. You're Woman 3 and likewise.

Woman 3: Actually...

Woman 1: What?!

Woman 3: I'm not... overly keen on being called Woman 3.

Woman 1: What? Why?

Woman 3: It makes be feel a bit... uh, what's the right word...? Auxiliary?

Woman 1: You're not auxiliary! We're a team! Like the Three Musketeers! Or Cagney and Lacey and their next best friend.

Woman 3: Still, I'd rather not be Woman 3. If it's all the same to you.

Woman 1: Fine. Fine. What shall I call you?

Woman 3: How about my real name?

Woman 1: What's your real name?

Woman 3: Woman 2.

Woman 1: Well, that's just confusing.

Woman 3: No. No, it's not. You can be Woman 1, I can be Woman 2 and Kirsty can be... Kirsty.

Woman 1: Woman 1, Woman 2 and Kirsty.

Woman 3: Yes.

Woman 1: Hmm. Yes. I suppose that would work.

Woman 3: Great! I'll text Kirsty and tell her the good news.

Woman 1: Who's Kirsty?

Woman 3: Woman 2.

Woman 1: Oh yes. Yes, yes. Sorry Woman 2.

Woman 3: That's OK. We'll have to get new T-shirts printed.

Woman 1: Just one. We'll get a Kirsty T-shirt printed, and she can give you her Woman 2 one.

Woman 3: But we're not the same size.

Kirsty: Has anyone seen my keys?

***

The sign of a great sketch is that it doesn't seem to go on too long. And, indeed, that one did NOT go on too long. In fact, it was probably too short.

Anyway, this is a great foundation of my portfolio.

I should probably stop now.

("No! No! Don't stop!" - the readers)

I'm afraid I have to. But remember, you can read this post as many times as you like. For free.

Of course, if you want to buy me a present, I have an Amazon wishlist.