Two Girls, a Suicide and a Safe

If it’s not completely obvious, I’m a writer. I write scripts, stories, poems, songs and blogs (blog being your favorite, I bet). So after all my blabbing about being my fabulous grammar-nazi-writing-self I’ve decided to share a little snippet of my writing with you.

I wrote “Two Girls, a Suicide and a Safe” for my Short Script class this past year–it was originally called “Befriending the Mistress” hence the awfully created Fey/Zelleweger poster. The new title is wayyyy more kick-ass, don’t you think?

For Short Script class, the scripts are usually 5-15 pages. Mine was 26. I couldn’t fight it anymore! It kept growing! So as we speak, I’m turning it into a feature-length screenplay. (insert applause) It’ll be my first fully written “movie”. And because I love you all so much, I think you should be blessed with a sneak-peek at one of the first scenes…(please forgive the improper script format)

INT. FUNERAL HOME

Olivia stands at the front of the funeral room after a line of guests have given her their condolences. It’s a closed casket.

A woman comes to stand next to Olivia, her nose in the air. It’s GENEVIEVE DION, a petite bimbo who was graced with a cute face. She was Roger’s mistress, and Olivia is fully aware that Genevieve slept with her late husband.

OLIVIA
Genevieve.

GENEVIEVE
Olivia.

OLIVIA
I suppose being an overbearing whore while he was alive wasn’t enough.

GENEVIEVE
If anything, I made it bearable for him to live.

OLIVIA
Slut.

GENEVIEVE
Bitch.

They pause a moment and smile at a few people across the room.

OLIVIA
You did this to him, you know.

GENEVIEVE
You’re the one who sucked the life out of him.

OLIVIA
Well, you sucked everything else, didn’t you?

Genevieve’s jaw drops.
OLIVIA (CONT’D)
Yep, that looks about right.

Genevieve closes her mouth.

GENEVIEVE
Look, I loved that man. And that’s why I’m here…I need to talk to you.

OLIVIA
For what?

GENEVIEVE
Come here.

Genevieve takes Olivia into the hallway.

INT. HALLWAY

GENEVIEVE
I loved Roger. I was a part of his life just as much as you were. And that’s why…
(she hesitates)
I’m asking for–no, demanding!–half of his money.

OLIVIA
(loud)
Money?!

Olivia clears her throat, remembering where she is.

OLIVIA (CONT’D)
(whispering)
What money?

GENEVIEVE
His money! I think I have every right to it.

OLIVIA
Didn’t you get enough of it while he had it? You’re the reason why there isn’t any.

GENEVIEVE
Don’t give me that bullsh-t, Olivia. I know there’s money. And if you won’t cooperate, I’ll find it myself.

OLIVIA
You’re insane. If you wanna go dig for “the lost treasure”, be my guest! Maybe the grave-digger will let you borrow his shovel after the funeral.

Olivia goes back into the showing room. Genevieve watches her leave and then storms out of the funeral home.

And there you have it! Nothing like two lionesses talking smack at a funeral, am I right?! That was the first scene ever written. I wrote it years ago and didn’t know what to do with it; and here we are 40 pages later. I hope you enjoyed the massive world inside my head. And that’s not even the half of it. So, keep your eyes peeled if you’d like to see all the adventures that these ladies get into trying to look for Roger’s hidden money!

Next on the list of blog topics: my top 5 writers, top 10 comedies, top 5 comedians, and how to be Green when you’re lazy!

So stay tuned, and follow my TWITTER already!
Love,
Your funeral-joke-making-writer, Alessandra (the next Janet Evanovich)

Belated Tribute to Dad

I was going to do my dad blog on Father’s Day, but I was too busy actually spending time with him!  Let’s get this straight right now–I am a daddy’s girl. Growing up, I always wanted to be with him, I always wanted to do what he did and I always loved that he was my dad.

My father is quite the man. He is a man who my friends adore and strangers want to know. He’s smart, quick-witted, and most importantly, funny.  For those of you who do not know him, my father is a 62-year-old Italian stallion, carpenter by trade, fisherman by passion. He’s also who I take after (if you were wondering where I get it from) so, in honor of my father, I’d like to share some memories and musings that I wrote way back when for his 60th birthday roast:

  • Dad is a math whiz. He used to brag about it when I was in elementary school every day, “Need help with your homework?” “No, Dad.” Until one day the  math word problems arrived, which I hated. So I let Dad do this one all by himself.  I handed it in and they were all wrong. (But I never told him.)
  • I was a 7 year-old tomboy when I was complaining of nothing to do, so Dad told me to go outside and dig a hole. And so I did. The next day, I found that he planted a tree in it. Sly old man.
  • Dad bursts into the door, grabs a rifle and is about to exit. He catches my look of confusion, turns to me and says, “Squirrels,” and goes outside with the gun.

You know your dad is old when…

  • You know your dad is old when he was a bus driver for all your friends’ parents.
  • You know your dad is old when his favorite article in the Sunday paper is the obituaries…also known to Dad as the “guess who died column“.
  • You know your dad is old when he never throws away pants because a knife can make them a new pair of shorts.
  • You know your dad is old when he still thinks the coolest toy for kids is a cardboard box. (Well, he’s probably right.)

Some direct quotes by my old man:

  • “You know you’re fat when even pictures of you weigh a lot.”
  • “Spike’s has a hotdog called the Michael Vick…you have to fight it before you can eat it.”
  • “Homie don’t play that no more.”

The thank yous:

  • Thanks Dad, for telling me that I have a face for radio—I wouldn’t have turned out so humble.
  • Thanks Dad for teaching me how to use a bow, shoot a gun, and fish—I wouldn’t have been able to beat up boys.
  • Thanks dad for hiring me when I had no job and we worked at the spa on Rt 6— you actually never paid me for it, but I’ll let it slide.
  • Thanks Dad for being funny—because Mom doesn’t really know any jokes.
  • Thanks Dad for sightly resembling Bill Cosby—because it gives me more reasons to make fun of you.

So whether it’s Father’s Day or just any ordinary day, always remember who raised you, who loves you and who supports you. Fathers, mothers, siblings or even friends. I hope giving you a little glimpse of my family will encourage you to share yours with me. alessandraspeaks@aim.com or leave a comment. What’s your best dad-moment?

Keep on smiling, keep on loving and keep on stopping by because you’re always welcome here.

With love,

Alessandra (world-cup-watcher-for-the-next-month) G.

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