I'm going to write a sitcom. Here's an extract:
TREVOR
You WHAT?!
Pretty good, right? It's just a first draft, but you've got to start somewhere. The important thing about writing situation comedy is to ensure that the situation and the comedy both exist. If you don't include them, the whole thing is hypothetical. And you can't spell 'hypothetical' without 'pothetic'.
Some quick sitcom rules:
1) You must feel ambivalent about the characters
2) The comedy should come from puns and edgy Michael Jackson impersonations
3) High stakes are important, especially if it's a parachuting vampire comedy
4) NO FEMALE CHARACTERS. No-one likes hearing about women. If you have to include a female character to make the plot work (eg. a nurse), have her played by a man
5) Kill of one character per episode - minimum. Don't give your viewers a chance to catch their breath or wind of the situation.
So, let's go through the process!
First: name your sitcom. This is the most important part of the whole thing. The title of your programme will be your calling card. People will look at you in the Radio Times. If it doesn't catch their eye, you might as well become a playwright.
What shall we call our show? We can't base the name on the content of the show - we don't know what that is yet. Cover all the bases.
Pigs in Blankets.
We'll call it that. It could mean anything. We could write about homeless policemen.
Or maybe, to give it a cutting edge twist, we should add a hashtag. That's what people do nowadays, right? No-one's ever put a hashtag in the TITLE of their show before! This is proper modern 2010 comedy.
Productio Ad Absurdum and Mick Stmedia
presents:
#PIGSINBLANKETS
by
Paul Fung
Next, you need a setting. Where will your action take place? Keep in mind: situation comedies have extremely high budgets. They're the televisual equivalent of one of those brilliant Michael Bay films. People will tune out if it's just people in a room. You want to make them want to gouge out their eyes out of sheer joy.
INT. PETROL STATION - DAY
Next, you need to decide on your characters. This is one of the least important parts of writing comedy. Who are these people? Who cares?
No-one. If you could just have your hilarious words appear on screen, you would. But you can't. That's teletext. And teletext is a mystery.
Make sure all of your characters sound the same. Individuality is the enemy of the big laugh.
Let's come up with our characters. One of them is TREVOR. You can tell that from my extract.
TREVOR is white, male, heterosexual, in his mid-twenties, is from England, and has the normal amount of limbs (four). He loves going out on the lash, pulling birds, footie, cars, and mocking the disabled.
You might think that's enough. But for dialogue, you need another character.
CROIG is just like Trevor, but a bit stupider.
They've probably got a Chinese boss called PUNG.
Done. Phew. Characters are exhausting.
You'll need some stage directions. These should be as long as possible. Everyone needs to know what to do, where to do it and exactly how long to do it for. But we'll do that at the end. They're boring.
So, what have we got so far?
Productio Ad Absurdum and Mick Stmedia
presents:
#PIGSINBLANKETS
by
Paul Fung
INT. PETROL STATION - DAY
Let's get cracking on dialogue. This is up to you. Trust your comedy instincts. Remember: this is a television show. People on TV don't talk like people in real life. Make them explain things. Tell, don't show.
TREVOR and CROIG are drinking lager on the forecourt (in the future). [more to follow]
TREVOR
Croig?
CROIG
Yes, Trevor?
TREVOR
You know we're good friends, and
have been working here together
at the petrol station since we
graduated from university with
degrees in German and Film Studies
respectively, and we're both in love
with the same nurse?
CROIG
Yes, Trevor. I do know that.
TREVOR
You WHAT?!
PUNG
Get back to work, you two.
I start to ruse patience.
Me chop you with rong stick!
You'll need some sort of plot. Usually some sort of misunderstanding to do with tickets for the 2012 Olympics. Some sort of swimming event.
CROIG
By the way, Trevor, I have tickets
for the 500 metres butterfly in 2012.
TREVOR
Oh that's good.
CROIG goes off stage into a bush or something.
TREVOR (TO SELF/AUDIENCE)
Excellent. I've always wanted to
see a giant butterfly. I one saw
a ten foot moth, but it turned out
to be a roundabout. I'm glad it's
nothing to do with swimming. I hate
swimmers and am terrified of chlorine.
If I was to go near a swimming pool,
I'd probably faint or kill someone.
CUT TO:
INT. BUSH - DAY
CROIG takes the tickets - tickets for the 500 metres butterfly SWIMMING competition at the 2012 Olympics - out of his other hand.
CROIG
These are swimming tickets.
(BEAT)
Thriller!
He moonwalks over to a bin.
You see where the tension will emerge?
I can't write the whole thing here, obviously, but it will probably end with Trevor fainting and the nurse (played by Russell Kane) giving him mouth to mouth, whilst everyone else is attacked by a moth.
Also, Pung will die.
It's as simple as that!
Why not try writing your own sitcom?
But don't steal this idea. I already have a development deal, and my first draft is due at the Sky comedy department first thing on Tuesday.
***
If anyone needs a script editor, I'm only a short phone call away. I won't charge much. I just want to be appreciated.
***
(I'll be playing Pung)
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