A Draft of a Radio Sketch That I Wrote

[Doraemon]

My friend is hoping to get his quirky comedy show on his university's radio station and we got talking about doing a sketch were a bunch of hippies are brought in for an arts segment to read thier poetry. I couldn't get this idea out my head - infact I couldn't sleep last night so I spent practically all night thinking about it. Since I was so taken with this idea I decided to knock up a draft. To help you picture this, the interviewer should be a little aloof, with a bit of upper-class pretension. And the hippies should be, well, a bit stoned and generally faux-philosophical.

So, I wanna know whether this is funny. Personally, I don't think the playing card joke works but I shan't taint your mind. It's hard to imagine how this would play out on radio though. That's the problem.

And there's a few jokes I couldn't fit in - I wanted an Irish hippy who, when asked about his influences, replies [in exagerrated Irish accent] "Didya ever hear tell of a band called The Dylans? The Bob Dylans?"
I may still put that in. Anyway...


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ASSORTED MUMBLING:
Letting him make drawings and build garbage structures… round the head with a wooden chair see how you like it…prism of colours which encompasses all colours...

NARRATOR: Welcome to…yes..could you just be a bit quieter please…w-we’re about to start.
HIPPY: You be quiet. (hysterical laughter)
NARRATOR:…erm…(general “nervous” utterances) Welcome to this, our fourth annual poetry roundtable in association with General Liquids and the National Consortium for the Spoken Arts. This year we are going to be talking to the bright young stars of the so-called Hippy Poetry Revival.
HIPPY: This isn’t a round table.
NARRATOR: What?
HIPPY: This table’s…not a round table it’s not round. It’s not a circle.
HIPPY 2: An oval can be round.
HIPPY: Yeah, but not in any significant way. A circle is ideal. I mean if you have a circle…well you know a table like that would be all you needed in your house practically. You wouldn’t even need to eat. My friend had a round table…I mean a really round table…I mean you couldn’t make that table any damn rounder. If it was any rounder it wouldn’t exist.
HIPPY 2: Wow.
HIPPY: We stared at it for days.
NARRATOR: Fascinating. But…John, isn’t it?
HIPPY: Johnny.
NARRATOR: Ah, Johnny
HIPPY: Jimmy
NARRATOR: Jimmy?
HIPPY: Joseph.
NARRATOR: Right. It has been said that you are the figurehead for a new wave of…
HIPPY: Ha-have you ever tried to draw a perfect circle?!? A perfect, an absolutely…big..perfect circle?
NARRATOR: No...i-i just wanted to ask…
HIPPY: Impossible. Do you know why? Do you know why?
NARRATOR: No.
HIPPY: Because if humans…and machines…are the same..the point is that we were not created with hands with which to draw the perfect circle. God granted us imprecise hands so that we may never be so skilled…with using them that we could overthrow God himself. There are machines..implements..with which to draw such a circle but these are ungodly tools that are much to impure to stand a chance in heaven. A revolution in heaven must be fought with hands alone, that’s why all the angels have wings.
NARRATOR: I see.
HIPPY 3: I thought you said you didn’t believe in god?
HIPPY: I didn’t say I don’t…didn’t. I don’t say I didn’t. I didn’t say I didn’t..don't..believe in God. I said I didn’t believe in *THE* god, I believe in *A* God, I believe in *my* god…who is cleaner than any.
NARRATOR: Who is this god of yours?
HIPPY: This god is my good friend Stevie here.  This man can get me anything I want.
STEVIE: I get him playing cards…
HIPPY: Playing cards, top trumps, anything. He works in a playing card factory. Incidently, Steve, I have enough playing cards, I want some drugs now.
NARRATOR: Drugs? Now that’s interesting…would you say the poetry produced by your group is influenced by mind altering substances?
HIPPY: Yes.
NARRATOR: I see..so what is the favoured…
HIPPY: Caffeine is a drug. Caffeine goes in coffee. do you drink coffee?
NARRATOR: Yes.
HIPPY: Well, there you go.
NARRATOR: Yes, but I mean…what are you saying exactly? I’m assuming that your work…and the work of poets like you…are not produced solely through the use of coffee?
HIPPY: Well, then your assuming aren’t you? Assuming is fine but it’s nice to actually know some stuff too, y’know?
NARRATOR: Well I’m trying not to assume, I’m trying to find out, but how can I know if you don’t tell me…how can I not assume?
HIPPY2: Assuming is good…assuming in a creative impulse. Knowing is boring.
HIPPY3: Knowledge is so dead. I’m glad we stamped that one out man.
NARRATOR: Is that something you aim to achieve in your work collectively? The irradication of knowledge?
HIPPY3: It’s been done for us really, by people like you.
HIPPY4: Mr. BBC (mischievous laughter)
HIPPY3: Who knows what the *beep* truth is anymore?
HIPPY4: I don’t know, do you.
HIPPY5: Wait, we’re assuming that “truth” and “knowledge” is sino..sinoni…the same.
HIPPY2: But assuming is good. I thought we already established that.
HIPPY: *You* established that, I didn’t. I didn’t establish anything.
HIPPY2: Oh I’m sorry, I thought we were a movement. Or is the movement just you now.
HIPPY5: (without sarcasm) cos, like,  I-if it’s just you, we don’t need to be here we can go now really can’t we…
HIPPY4: Sit down, Graham.
NARRATOR: Shall we hear a poem?
HIPPY5: I can’t hear a poem.
NARRATOR: Joseph, you are going to read a poem to us aren’t you?
HIPPY: I am? Okay then let’s see…this is called “Hydrogen Dog.”
NARRATOR: and this is from your recent collection “A Shineful of Moonpaste”?
HIPPY: No this is not currently available it’s not even written down yet.
NARRATOR: Oh okay, a spontaneous piece - ladies and gentlemen - an exclusive! Take it away Joseph
HIPPY: Elvis.
NARRATOR:Get on with it.
HIPPY: Okay *cough*

Hydrogen Dog.
Sweeps the beach for crumbs.
Hydrogen Dog.
Sniffs other dogs butts
(And those of strangers.)

Hydrogen dog.
From my chemistry set.
Hydrogen dog
A Scientist’s friend.

Hydrogen Dog.
Is out on his own.

Hydrogen
Dog
Just
Floats.

Doesn’t know where to go.
My Hydrogen Dog.
Hydrogen Dog.

Science.
Just floats.
My Hydrogen Dog.
My Hydrogen Dog.

Science.
Just floats.
My Hydrogen Dog.
Dear Hydrogen Dog
Away.

(He’s not the easiest to take for walkies, it has to be said.)

NARRATOR: Oh my…well, genius is a word that’s bandied around a lot these days but I cannot think of how else to describe that…really…quite remarkable work.
HIPPY IN THE DISTANCE: IT WAS *SH(beep)T*
NARRATOR: Well, regrettably, that’s all we have time for today. Join us next time when we will be investigating the uses of poetry on the contemporary battlefield, which will feature readings from some of the most respected persons from within the ranks of the armed forces. So I’ll be looking forward to that.
HIPPY5: Why do you want to talk to… a man..about poetry.
NARRATOR: sorry?
HIPPY5: Wha…are you Steven Fry?
NARRATOR: Just cut there.
HIPPY5: (childlike) hello!

[Jason]

I thought up until when they start talking about caffeine was hilarious.  The rest is pretty good, but I didn't find it as amusing.

The part where the hippy's are going back and forth amongst themselves might be better if the narrator tries to get back control of the interview from them and they keep telling him off until they resolve their little discussion.

[Doraemon]

Thanks for the comments Jason. I plan to revise that at some point..but because I prefer doing something new than perfecting something old I did another one. This one's a bit strange. Quite "experimental" - if I can use that word without sounding like a pretentious twat, which I can't. This is the closest I tend to get to "gross out" comedy, so if bodily functions and such make you queasy, don't read any further.



INTERVIEWER: Hello and welcome to Britain’s English Kings of Comedy, the show which looks into the mouths of some of Britain’s greatest English comedians, from which some, but not all, of Britain’s greatest jokes have sprung with the greatest care and attention from even the most chapped and shiny of lips. In the immortal words of Bobby Aslan Murphey “I don’t know where to begin but, hey, this sure as hell ain’t the end”
BIOGRAPHER: *chuckles to self* genius.
INTERVIEWER: And, with that we will begin this series by twisting the enigmatic eyes of comedy genius, Cardinal Toby Williams.
BIOGRAPHER: genius.
INTERVIEWER: Genius indeed. And to stroll down the path of this great life I have with me here Toby William’s Autobiograher, St. Rudolph José, to do the steering, and occasionally stop for anecdotal icecream.  Greetings Mr. José. Please take a seat.
BIOGRAPHER: Thanks but I’m already sitting.
INTERVIEWER: Oh…St. Rudolph, I have already mentioned that perhaps the most genius thing about the great Toby Williams was that he found himself in the possession of a very special eye. And of course this was when such things were unfashionable and indeed illegal in most countries including this one. And against the advice of his manager he revived it didn’t he?
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, he did, he revived the eye. It was an eye that was not only noted for it’s pulsating quality and ability to catch flying projectiles, but, with one twist could zoom in much like a camera lens. Which meant his observational comedy was was unsurpassed. No other comedian could do gags about the lives of germs and other micro organisms.
INTERVIEWER: But of course this overwhelming sense of sight was torturous for him and it drove him to drink, didn’t it?
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, that’s right. The eye that made him famous was a great source of torture for him. He found eventually that he could numb it with drink. He began pouring brandy and…milkshakes…into his eye…
INTERVIEWER: Of course, we all need to drink don’t we, I mean if you’re thirsty…or I’m thirsty…the natural tendency, I mean I can’t speak for any one else really, but the natural tendency is to drink. But the genius of Williams of course was that he just drank…more. And I know in your book for example there are really quite harrowing stories of him going to the toilet, and not coming out for…days.
BIOGRAPHER: There is no doubt about it, Micheal. We feared for his life, as I’m sure he would have if he thought he was going to die and didn’t believe in reincarnation, which, fortunately, he did.
INTERVIEWER: I see. Did you and other people who had got to know Toby intimately over the years…did you ever club together, in the interests of his health…did you ever just tell him, y’know, “Look, Toby, you’ve got to stop…pi***ng?”
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, we did. But you know when you drink as much as he drank, unfortunately you’re going to urinate as much as goes in…and it’s got to come out somewhere - I just wish it came out in a lot nicer place. There was no talking to him when he was pi***ng.
INTERVIEWER: Yes, because of course, he used to **** through his mouth.
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, this is because he was deathly afraid of his penis and never wished to see it or experience it in any direct way. So he trained himself to use his mouth instead. Which was typical of his genius, really. He would always strive to do things a little differently to everyone else.
INTERVIEWER: what did his urine taste like?
BIOGRAPHER: Sadly, I never got the chance to try it but I’ve heard many first hand accounts to the effect that…drinking it was an experience unlike any other.
INTERVIEWER: Genius.
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, if I’m not mistaken, he was the first comedian to…knowingly…share his urine, and in a sense incorporate the products of his body into the comedy itself. I mean he was his comedy. And his body – his comedy – was a sign that he was alive, you know? And that is very much something to hang onto and… celebrate, really… when you think you are going to die. Because as long as he was pi***ng through his mouth with a fully functioning, microscopic eye, he was alive, y’know? That was his life. And, as you might summise, his life was inherently comic, so why change anything when you come to the stage?
INTERVIEWER: Exactly, I mean, I wouldn’t if I was in that position, I probably wouldn’t have a choice. Of course his comedy was as unique as his anatomy wasn’t it if not unique-er still.
BIOGRAPHER: His was a comedy of no jokes, really. I mean he was very much of the post-comedy tradition of, say, Letterbox Stanley, or Comedybot, whom I’m sure occupy a vital place in all our hearts. It was comedy of misfortune and aspiration.
INTERVIEWER: And desire.
BIOGRAPHER: Oh, yes. Nobody could do desire like Cardinal Toby Williams. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like Jimmy Gervais and all them but how many people do you hear coming out of their shows saying “It was funny, but there was just no Desire”?
INTERVIEWER: Loads…I suppose the power of Toby’s comedy was that it was not so much funny as the desire to be funny, really.
BIOGRAPHER: Yes, for the sake of this programme I would reluctantly agree with that, Michael.
INTERVIEWER: And you can clearly see this…performed to great effect in – I think we’ve got a clip here – this is from a tour he did before the dawn of recorded sound actually so we’re lucky to have this clip, I believe there’s only one in the country. But this is from a tour in 1985, off the shores of Paraguay. A classic clip indeed I’m sure we’re all fed up of hearing this actually [laughs] but it’s worth taking the time to hear the great man as he appeared, on stage, in his own words.
BIOGRAPHER: classic.

CTW: What about them milk cartons, eh? You know, containers for the storing of milk.
Audience: [laughter]
CTW: My mother, she could never get them open nomatter how hard she tried with scissors…her fingers…crocodile teeth.
Audience: [laughter]
CTW: But eventually she did. And she would distribute it among the three of us…and one day I took more than my fair share and she mashed the whole carton into my mouth and….AAAHH! MY EYE! OH, THE HELL OF THE INFESTED BEAST TONGUES! AAAH NIGHTMARE UPON NIGHTMARS THE COBBRA SPIRALS UPON HER BREAST! AAAH [BEEP] JESUS [BEEP] [sound of urination]
Audience: [laughter]
CTW: I don’t know about you, but my wife is full of germs.  



BIOGRAPHER: Genius.
INTERVIEWER: Rudolph, now…we’ve been chatting about this great man before the show haven’t we… And you should have…I hope you deduced to a certain extent that I am not the kind of person who would dwell on the falling of a giant.
BIOGRAPHER: Of course not no…unthinkable.
INTERVIEWER: Nevertheless I don’t think we could do justice to the life of this great man without at least unearthing some…ominous clouds, if you like.  
BIOGRAPHER: uh-hmm.
INTERVIEWER:Now Toby’s house as we know, in the evening of a  stormy winter mid july, 1880… was searched and police found…
BIOGRAPHER: They found a copy of Playboy. Now, as you may remember, until recently, Playboy magazine was actually printed on fabric. And unfortunately his copy had shrunk in the wash and you know, when it got like that, you couldn’t cast your eyes on it.
INTERVIEWER: and the police assumed from this…most unfortunate laundry…that the great Toby Williams was infact in possession of…
BIOGRAPHER: A shrunken copy of a popular pornographer’s weekly. Yes, what is your point?
INTERVIEWER: Of course this would have caused a scandal in 1880, wouldn’t it. I mean, although the era of free love was just around the corner…
BIOGRAPHER: An untied shoelacewould have caused a scandal in 1880, Michael.  
INTERVIEWER: Yes, I suppose…but the fact remains….
BIOGRAPHER: The rest is history.
INTERVIEWER: Yes but are you not coming at this in a sense from a…
BIOGRAPHER: THE HISTORY OF A GENIUS.
INTERVIEWER: Indeed. Thankyou, St. Rudolph José, for that fascinating insight that was, I’m sure you’ll agree, both fascinating and…an insight.