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Old 04-24-2009, 11:16 PM View Post #1 (Link) Burning Ambitions
Elvenscholar (Offline)
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This is just a monologue I have written for Drama class. Rip it up, and tell me what you think. The italics are stage directions.

Edited.


Lights Up.

A man sits at a desk. He is reclining back in a wheeled, cushioned computer chair with armrests. He’s dressed in dress pants , a buttoned shirt, shiny black shoes and a tie. On the desk is a laptop and a stack of business papers, along with a small picture frame.

The man closes the laptop and rolls his chair so that he sits facing the audience.

Man: Well, here we are, my office. My clean, scenic, luxurious office.

I bet you’re all thinking the same damn thing; here’s a guy who makes some serious cash. Well for starters, you’re right. But what does that mean exactly? So I have some extra money. So what! What the hell is that good for?

You might think it’s good for a whole lot o’ things. Nice house, nice car, good food, good entertainment. And I mean, you’re right... kinda. I have got all that stuff, and that is what rich people spend their money on. But have you ever wondered if all that expensive shit ever gets old? I’m tellin’ ya right now that it sure as hell does.

You may be wondering how I got here anyways. Well the answer is simple. I worked my friggin’ ass off. Got outta highschool and into Yale, funded by my 5 year stint workin’ till at the local supermarket, and summers shovelling manure. Wasn’t exactly the highlight of my life, but it sure as hell paid off.

At Yale I got my master’s in computer science, and, being top o’ the class, got offered a job right away. 8 years later, and here I am, just another rich, corporate bastard like the rest of ‘em.

When I was younger, I dreamed of a life like this. I figured that as long as I had money, then I was set! It didn’t matter if I didn’t really like my job, ‘cause I could just make up for all the time I spent locked behind a desk by living large. I had no friggin’ idea what I was getting myself into.

First let’s start with the job. Sure, it’s good hours and good money, but it’s also a whole lot of impossible deadlines, running stupid errands for the boss, and being an insufferable kiss-ass. I fucking hate it! When I went through school for my masters, I figured that I’d become some integral piece to a company, surrounded by other happy, successful young people who were valued for their skills. Do you know how god-damned naive that is? Instead, I’m surrounded by women who are half plastic and men who take viagra on a daily basis, who have all gotten here by just screwing the right people! I’m like the only one who actually worked his way here! It’s bullshit! If I had’ve known when I was younger that all I needed to do was have sex with the right person to become rich and successful, then I would not have wasted four years of my life paying top dollar for some useless ivy league crap!

But that’s not the thing that gets me. What actually pisses me off is that it seems like I’m the only person in this city that doesn’t think success in life should rely on sexual proficiency. What ever happened to people who actually worked for their money! I mean it’s pretty easy to just pop a little blue pill when you’re ready for you’re next promotion, but then the people who are actually good at their jobs just get left eating metaphorical dust. You should need to work for things, not just spend a few minutes in the janitor’s closet and - bam! Another bonus!

I guess I just don’t belong in this dog-suck-dog corporate America. But then if this isn’t for me, then what is!

Whenever I ask myself that question, the same thing always pops into my head. (Looks over to the picture frame, and gently lifts it off the desk. He looks at the picture and sighs.)

When I was really young, I used to pretend I was a firefighter, just like thousands of other kids. I guess there was just something genuinely virtuous about risking your own life to save others, and I wanted more than anything to do that when I grew up. Isn’t it funny how we often have the purest goals as children. Why do think that is?

Everyday, I ask myself why the hell I’m still sitting at this desk. I keep this picture of a burning building here to remind me that one day, I’m gonna get the fuck away from this bullshit, and do something worthwhile. I just hope that day is soon.

Lights out.
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						Last edited by Elvenscholar; 04-25-2009 at 12:42 PM.
					
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Old 04-25-2009, 09:10 AM View Post #2 (Link)
Rob (Offline)
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Originally Posted by Elvenscholar View Post
This is just a monologue I have written for Drama class. Rip it up, and tell me what you think. The italics are stage directions. Ok, but I won't be too harsh.

Lights Up.

A man sits at a desk. He is reclining back in a wheeled, cushioned computer chair with

armrests. He’s dressed in dress pantsno space, a buttoned shirt, shiny black shoes and a tie. On the

desk is a laptop and a stack of business papers, along with a small picture frame.

The man closes the laptop and rolls his chair so that he sits facing the audience.
You have a bit too much detail in the underlined part, but I suppose it is only for drama, and I don't really know how else I'd put it.


Man: Well, here we are, my office. My clean, scenic, luxurious office.

I bet you’re all thinking the same damn thing; here’s a guy who makes some serious

cash. Well for starters, you’re right. But what does that mean exactly? So I have some

extra money. So what! What the hell is that good for? Good start, realistic if a bit cliché


You might think it’s good to have a whole lot o’ things. Nice house, nice car, good food, Didn't really make sense.

good entertainment. And I mean, you’re right... kinda. I tink that works better, you want him to trail off from where I'm looking. I have got all that stuff, and that is Do you want him to be speaking... wrong? Because it doesn't really make sense, and I wouldn't say anything likee that.

what rich people spend their money on. But have you ever wondered if all that expensive

shit ever gets old? I’m tellin’ ya right now that it sure as hell does. This dialogue is good overall.


I’m 32 years old, executive for a large, successful company based in good ol’ New York

city, and I’ve been just rollin’ in the dough for a few years now. I’m single, but I can and

do get laid whenever I want. I’ve got everything money can buy. Okay... this seemed to just change direction, and have no plot. Maybe I'm wrong.


You may be wondering how I got here anyways. Wellcomma the answer is simple. I worked my

friggin’ ass off. Got outta highschool and into Yale, funded by my 5 year stint workin’ the??? till or delete 'till' at

the local supermarket, and summers shovelling manure. Wasn’t exactly the highlight of my

life, but it sure as hell paid off. I can imagine an accent, and someone acutally saying this, which is always good.


At Yale I got my master’s in computer science, and, being top o’ the class, got offered a

job right away. 8 years later, and here I am, just another rich, corporate bastard like the

rest of ‘em.


When I was younger, I dreamed of a life like this. I figured that as long as I had money,

then I was set! It didn’t matter if I didn’t really like my job, ‘cause I could just make up for

all the time I spent locked behind a desk by living large. I had no friggin’ idea what I was

getting myself into. This is good. It's going somewhere now.


First let’s start with the job. Sure, it’s good hours and good money, but it’s also a whole

lot of impossible deadlines, running stupid errands for the boss, and being an insufferable

kiss-ass. I fucking hate it! When I went through school for my masters, I figured that I’d

become some integral piece to a company, surrounded by other happy, successful young

people who were valued for their skills. Do you know how god-damned naive that is?

Instead, I’m surrounded by women who are half plastic and men who take viagra on a daily

basis, who have all have delete one of the 'have's, can't quite decide which one, probably the second. gotten here by just screwing the right people! I’m like the only

one who actually worked his way here! It’s bullshit! If I had’ve known when I was younger

that all I needed to do was have sex with the right person to become rich and successful,

then I would not have wasted four years of my life paying top dollar for some useless ivy

league crap! Good, I can feel the anger. Maybe have more emotion (parentheticals) eg.

Bob
(ANGRY)
Die.



But that’s not the thing that gets me. What actually pisses me off is that it seems like

I’m the only person in this city that doesn’t think success in life should rely on sexual

proficiency. What ever happened to people who actually worked for their money! I mean it’s

pretty easy to just pop a little blue pill when you’re ready for you’re next promotion, but

then the people who are actually good at their jobs just get left eating metaphorical dust.

You should need to work for things, not just spend a few minutes in the janitor’s closet and

- bam! Another bonus! Like that little example.


I guess I just don’t belong in this dog-suck-dog corporate America. But then if this isn’t

for me, then what is!


Whenever I ask myself that question, the same thing always pops into my head. (Looks

over to the picture frame, and gently lifts it off the desk. He looks at the picture and sighs
.) I knew it would be something about this.

When I was really young, I used to pretend I was a firefighter, just like thousands of

other kids. I guess there was just something genuinely virtuous about risking your own life

to save others, and I wanted more than anything to do that when I grew up. Isn’t it funny

how we often have the purest goals as children. Why do think that is? I like this. A good semi-twist.


Everyday, I ask myself is one word. why the hell I’m still sitting at this desk. I keep this picture of a

burning building here he does know that's klind of weird, and that maybe this could be thought as pyromania to remind me that one day, I’m gonna get the fuck away from this

bullshit, and do something worthwhile. I just hope that day is soon.


Lights out.
Overall, a good story. Well done, and just correct those mistakes I showed you. A monolgue can't really go too far, so I can't give much advice.
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Old 04-25-2009, 12:16 PM View Post #3 (Link) This post is a reply - don't critique it
Elvenscholar (Offline)
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Thanks for the crit.
I wanna ask your opinion on something. In terms of the picture, a burning building is really strange, but I couldn't think of anything else. If you had any ideas, I would gladly consider them.
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Old 04-27-2009, 04:48 PM View Post #4 (Link)
Rob (Offline)
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Join Date: Mar 2009
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Ooh... I think a burning building would be ok, you could do a traffic jam, but that wouldn't work with the chair. Maybe being held hostage? I don't really know.
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