So I was dusting off the old writing files and found this little skit I wrote about a year ago. Funny, it still all applies. *sigh* I suck.
Reporter: Thanks for siting down with us. I know that things have been [loud banging] difficult for you, but we really appreciate you rearranging your schedule to do this interview.
Syd: Sure. I figured it’s time that I break my silence. It’s time [louder banging] people [more furious banging], errrm, my characters understand what this is about.
Reporter: [nods] I think [thwack] that it’s [thwack] important to let [thwack] everyone [looks pointedly at the door] know what this is about. So if you’re ready, should we begin?
Syd: [swallows cotton balls] Umm…yeah I’m [voice trembles] as ready as I’ll ever be.
Reporter: [looks into camera] I’m here with future best selling author-to-be Syd. [channels Leeza Gibbons]
Syd: [raises eyebrows and mutters] Impressive. Great lips too. Damn. [digs in pockets for chap-stick]
Reporter: [continues in Leeza’s dramatic cadence] It is day [dramatic pause] 84 of the writer’s strike. That is Syd’s writer’s strike. Take a look at this.
Junior Cameraman: This job sucks
Reporter: [glares] Shut up Stewie.
Syd: Pardon? [watches cameraman pull out a pack of cigarettes] Oh, excuse me. I’m really sorry, but we don’t smoke– Wait…what did you cut to?
Reporter: Oh…just some candid footage. You can watch here [points to small TV].
Syd: [looks horrified and begins to choke on 2nd hand smoke and humiliation]
Reporter & Syd: [watch video.]
Syd: Oh dear lord. Shit. The laundry. I didn’t have any…It’s umm…with the writing and housework it’s hard to keep clothes….umm…washed. You’re not going to give this to TLC’s What Not To Wear are you? [watches video of self bending over in piling yoga pants]
Reporter: But you haven’t been writing, right?
Syd: [flushes] Well, no. No writing per say, but I spend a lot of time creating iTunes playlists, casting my characters, finding cute little writing meters, a little bit of plot–
Characters: [loud banging]
Cy: [surprisingly clear even through the new steel reinforced silver plated door] Syd, whoever is smoking in your house is going to fucking die. Also, I did like that new Staind song you added to my playlist.
Reporter & Syd: [looks at cameraman who takes another deep drag on his cigarette]
Syd: [frowns] I’m not talking to him right now, but I’d listen if I were you. Staind is so perfect for your broodiness Cy. It’s really inspiring some great dream–
Cy: [voice sounds closer]
Syd: [spins around to see where the mob has moved to]
Cy: You better listen you donkey.
Axel: [apparently talking to mob] He doesn’t have shit for brains does he?
Syd: [looks at Reporter and Shit-for-brains] I don’t know if I can guarantee your safety. They are really riled up. Understandably.
Mob: You don’t understand anything! We’re sitting in limbo. We hate limbo!
Syd: [stutters and begins to rambles] It’s really hard. I have a real life. A baby, husband, work issues, a fan–
Mob: [chants] Limbo is for bimbo’s! Limbo is for bimbo’s!
Syd: Hurry. To the office. They’re going to break down the door.
Reporter: How do you know?
Syd: I’m writing this. I know what they’re going to do. [mutters] Bimbo.
Cy: On three.
Syd: [mutters] Figures he’d organize them. [yells over shoulder as she waddles up stairs at penguin speed] You don’t even wanna be your coven leader, Cy!
Cy: [steel door clangs in foyer, wood splinters] I’m gonna lock you in a room with Dom, Syd. And when you’re tied up in a chair he is gonna to describe in very graphic detail every encounter with every woman–
Syd: Nooo! My ears will fall off. I’m not that liberal. His escapades aren’t really suitable for adults, even!
Syd: [watches SkinnyAss use her damn pilates-is-so-hollywood hamstrings to effortlessly climb the stairs] Hurry. The door on the left. [slides around corner like a de-clawed puppy]
Hollywood Diet & Delinquent: [shocked into silence]
Syd: [slams door and engages all 25 locks]
HollyHo: Will those hold them?
Syd: [shakes head slowly]
To be continued…