Friday, 2 September 2011

The Tale of Sir Edric the Vile, episode 1

So, I was pondering putting up some creative writing ahead of the release of my eBook (hopefully later this year). The problem was that I didn’t want to give away any of that book, and it takes me a while to draft and then rewrite creative stuff.

However, due to my skill and cunning, and not at all because I clicked the wrong folder whilst suffering an explosive sneeze, I found an old miniature comedy, in the style of a play. There are only two episodes, as yet, but it’s written already, so I thought I’d put it up.

Worth stressing that I wrote this a while ago, and my book is not an out and out comedy (although there are quite a few moments of light relief). Anyway, here it is:

Episode 1: A Royal Summons

Scene 1: [Edric approaches the monstrous stone home of Prince Ivan the Bloody, which is protected by a pair of guards]

Edric: I got the urgent summons. Ivan's not in one of his moods, is he?

Guardsman Barry: Oh no, sir, he's cheerier than a jester's birthday.

Scene 2: [A horrid shriek emanates from the door, which is subsequently pierced by a sword, its bloody tip wiggling playfully]

Guardsman Gary: Well, cheeryish. For the prince.

Scene 3: [Edric enters the home, steps over the fresh corpse marinated in its own blood, and approaches Prince Ivan]

Edric: Good day to thee, my liege.

Ivan: Ah, Edric. Good day indeed. Robin here was caught in bed with my sister, so I murdered him to teach him a lesson. I daresay he won't do that again!

Scene 4: [Edric glances nervously at the corpse]

Edric: Indeed not, sire. How is your wife?

Ivan[sighing]: Hilda the Impenetrable lives up to her bloody name. Anyway, I summoned you to spread some good news. The King is dead! Well, almost.

Scene 5: [Ivan swings his sword playfully]

Ivan: The old man's got longpox. Another few weeks and he'll be worm food. The problem is my damned sister, as always. She's ordered Sir Gerald and Alice to hunt down Arnold the Hermit in the Cave of Terrible Darkness.

Scene 6: [Edric nods, relieved not to be better acquainted with the pointy end of Ivan's sword]

Ivan: Arnold is reputed to be the finest healer in the world. Happily, fate gifted me a prophecy last night. Either Arnold or you will meet death in the next month. I'm sure you understand the way the gods work, old bean.

Edric: Indeed, sire. I shall report the Hermit's demise interfrastically.


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