Donald Gallinger's Blog: Donald Gallinger's Moments of Clarity - Posts Tagged "commentary"
Handling the First Bleep of the Day
(Interior: 7:30 a.m. Beginning of school day: Hallways crowded with young eager faces. As the camera draws closer, we hear individual voices….
Enter AMBER. She is about fourteen. In one hand she holds a Yoo Hoo; in the other a Ho Ho. Ipod plugs are in both ears. She waves to a friend, then screams a deafening “Hey, Tiffany!” as she begins a fast shuffle down the hallway. Her Yoo Hoo slops onto the floor as she runs.)
AMBER: Did you see that f****g bitch Autumn? She’s f****g my boyfriend and it’s really starting to p*** me off!
TIFFANY: (Also about fourteen. She is wearing a tee-shirt that reads “I Did the Sheriff, but I Did Not Do the Deputy.”) I would punch that b***h in the face. She’s gotta know that you will f**k her up if she won’t stop playin’ chicken head with Chuckie.
INTERCOM: (A muffled, adult voice) It is now time for homeroom. Please get to your homeroom…
(There is brief disturbance in the milling crowds, as if an errant fly or mosquito has broken a collective mood. It quickly passes. No one makes a move to leave the hallway.)
INTERCOM: Please get to homeroom. If you are not in homeroom when the bell rings, you will be assigned...
AMBER: (Responding to the intercom voice) Suck my c**k.
TIFFANY: (In militant agreement) Yeah, suck it....
Read more at Donald Gallinger's Official Author Website
Enter AMBER. She is about fourteen. In one hand she holds a Yoo Hoo; in the other a Ho Ho. Ipod plugs are in both ears. She waves to a friend, then screams a deafening “Hey, Tiffany!” as she begins a fast shuffle down the hallway. Her Yoo Hoo slops onto the floor as she runs.)
AMBER: Did you see that f****g bitch Autumn? She’s f****g my boyfriend and it’s really starting to p*** me off!
TIFFANY: (Also about fourteen. She is wearing a tee-shirt that reads “I Did the Sheriff, but I Did Not Do the Deputy.”) I would punch that b***h in the face. She’s gotta know that you will f**k her up if she won’t stop playin’ chicken head with Chuckie.
INTERCOM: (A muffled, adult voice) It is now time for homeroom. Please get to your homeroom…
(There is brief disturbance in the milling crowds, as if an errant fly or mosquito has broken a collective mood. It quickly passes. No one makes a move to leave the hallway.)
INTERCOM: Please get to homeroom. If you are not in homeroom when the bell rings, you will be assigned...
AMBER: (Responding to the intercom voice) Suck my c**k.
TIFFANY: (In militant agreement) Yeah, suck it....
Read more at Donald Gallinger's Official Author Website
The Joad Family, C. 2055
(Exterior: Long Shot: Pan across a vast sea of rusted mobile homes stretching all the way to the horizon. As the camera moves in for a closer view, we see a ragged band of dirty children playing hop scotch in the dusk. We hear a shot fired in the distance. The children stop playing and listen attentively as more shots are fired. Soon, we see rockets flaring up in the sky, sparkling and twisting into fantastic shapes and colors of red, white, and blue.)
CHILD ONE: Oooh, pretty!
CHILD TWO: Pretty lights! Pretty lights!
(The children dance in a circle, delighted by the noise and fanfare. The camera cuts to the door of a mobile home. A grizzled, gray haired man and woman step outside to admire the fireworks. They are dressed in cheap cotton pants and shirts. Across the front of their shirts are stitched the same words: “Coca Cola is Motherfucking Good! Drink the Goddamn Coke, Yo!”)
GRANDPA JOAD: Yep, the fourth of JU-ly. Mighty good to see the country celebrating.
GRANDMA JOAD: Reckon the gov’mint will give us our three gallons, Pa?
GRANDPA JOAD: Hope so. They promised us three gallons a gas at Christmas. Wouldn’t do to lie on Jesus birthday, now would it?
Medium Shot: Two children run toward GRANDPA and GRANDMA JOAD: They are carrying something in a bag; they are very excited.
PANASONIC JOAD (he is a boy of about fourteen): Look what we found, Grandpa! (he dumps the bag upside down and several corroded cell phones and Ipods fall on the ground). Ain’t these the talking machines, Gramps?
Read more at Donald Gallinger's Wordpress Blog
CHILD ONE: Oooh, pretty!
CHILD TWO: Pretty lights! Pretty lights!
(The children dance in a circle, delighted by the noise and fanfare. The camera cuts to the door of a mobile home. A grizzled, gray haired man and woman step outside to admire the fireworks. They are dressed in cheap cotton pants and shirts. Across the front of their shirts are stitched the same words: “Coca Cola is Motherfucking Good! Drink the Goddamn Coke, Yo!”)
GRANDPA JOAD: Yep, the fourth of JU-ly. Mighty good to see the country celebrating.
GRANDMA JOAD: Reckon the gov’mint will give us our three gallons, Pa?
GRANDPA JOAD: Hope so. They promised us three gallons a gas at Christmas. Wouldn’t do to lie on Jesus birthday, now would it?
Medium Shot: Two children run toward GRANDPA and GRANDMA JOAD: They are carrying something in a bag; they are very excited.
PANASONIC JOAD (he is a boy of about fourteen): Look what we found, Grandpa! (he dumps the bag upside down and several corroded cell phones and Ipods fall on the ground). Ain’t these the talking machines, Gramps?
Read more at Donald Gallinger's Wordpress Blog
Donald Gallinger's Moments of Clarity
These are excerpts from all my blogsites. If you like one, just click the link to read the entire thing. I'm working on my next novel, Stupid School, and (never a multitasker) am not posting new stuff
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