THE WRONG COLOUR BLUE
The Right Up!
INTRO SCARLETS KITCHEN
ASKS THE AUDIENCE
Would you like a cup of tea?
I’m gonna make you a cup of tea..
A nice cup of tea...
We don’t have any teabags.
Oh, were out of sugar!
Why’s that Scarlet?
I’m not actually meant to have sugar it makes me a bit...
(Places a tea bag in a cup and adds gin)
Just a bit of dutch courage.
Oh! Your here for the show.
I’m meant to be giving a performance.
SAHARA MOON
FRONT AND CENTRE.
Picture this....
Golden Sands reflecting the moonlight in the deadest, darkest of night.
I have six pack abs and wear crop tops and short skirts that show off my killer thighs.
I tell people exactly what I think of them, without apologizing.
(Moves to dress rail)
I expect a fruit basket in my dressing room and lead a champagne lifestyle.
My breathtaking performances leave people spellbound.
I have a number one album that goes platinum in 50 countries.
(puts on sunglasses)
I’m front page news and on the cover of every magazine.
Parties on private yachts’ and in private mansions.
Paparazzi breaking down my door and record deals galore.
(hands sunglasses to audience)
Call me crazy but I know there’s something more out there for me, and you.
Not to sure about you?
I know there’s something more out there for all of us.
VILLAGE HALL.
(sits on chair centre stage)
My old school held a talent show in the village hall.
AS A TEENAGE VERSION OF SCARLET
The judges are Christine the Vicars wife.
(make the sign of the cross)
Marc a mini man who’d made it in car sales.
(flashes teeth)
Jennifer a beautician-hairdresser who we’d seen on page three.
(sniggers)
Brian the Mayor...
(widens stance)
....Whose a complete perv.
This talent show’s such a big deal that Jason the school counsellor runs additional after
school session for problems ranging from acute anxiety, delusions of grandeur to penis envy.
Jason does these visualization techniques on visualizing the judges.
(takes a grand bow)
To giving a winning audition performance.
Hypnosis is pretty powerful stuff.
Helped half the sixth form give up smoking.
Of course it doesn’t help the other half on weed give up anything they’re to stoned.
I spend ages picking out my winning audition outfit.
(throws something on quick and grabs hairbrush)
The number one career choice of all school leavers is to make it on the TV.
To the despair of Mrs Crickmore the careers advisor.
(moves upstage)
Some parents can afford to pay for private music lesson.
This is the Freeloader’s Village Talent Show.
We rely on raw talent.
I know I can sing.
I sing all the time at home.
But... I now had something to prove.
This is our X-Factor.
( Speaks into hairbrush microphone)
Is this on?
Hello I’m Scarlet.
Is this the gateway to stardom?
A Christmas number one?
Millions of followers?
A date with Harry Styles?
(hides hairbrush)
Every Saturday we watch the X-Factor.
The judges are the nations TV family.
Representing every teenager leaving the education system with such enormous hopes.
(pulls out hairbrush)
I told myself I wasn’t going to blow this audition.
Been practicing for months and not just with a hairbrush.
In front of my mum.
But...
(nods to start the music)
Some...
Some...
Somewhere...
(holds the note and freezes realizing she’s holding her hairbrush)
One Thursday night my parents thought I was at an after school sixth form study session.
I was actually losing my karaoke virginity at the Mayflower.
This was by far my boldest move yet.
The Mayflower in South East London was an adolescent mecca.
It had a strange reputation for strange goings on and all sorts of rumors.
The kind you visit to escape the sanctuary of the private faith school system.
To get in past security and across the threshold was the most intense climax ever.
This was my first time.... here for the chance to sing.
Peering round the misted interior I spotted the bar and there for the first time I got a glimpse of Luke.
What do you want to drink? He asked. I pointed to a bottle of almost fluorescent blue.
What is that?
Melo its watermelon flavor.
In my nervousness I purchased 2 for 1 on alcopops.
He asked me if I was here to see The Burnt Offerings.
A type of Martini not an overdone piece of toast.
Luke’s mate wanted the band to have a cool Bond vibe.
He convinced me to stay on and catch them after the karaoke as they were really good.
It certainly wouldn’t hurt my musical education.
I started to form this picture of me impressing him enough that he’d ask for my number.
It was at the point when the chorus of Robbie Williams Angels swept through the room.
My inhibitions were finally freed enough and I made my way to the floor.
I felt the room spin with what felt like the g-force of a whirlitzer.
Would my bedroom rehearsals payoff?
Would my song choice be right?
As I was handed the microphone and the beat kicked in I felt a sense of certainty.
Then all of a sudden I couldn’t control my breathing or stop the room from spinning.
Then as everything slowed I made a bolt for the bathroom.
This time to puke a cascade of Melo down the toilet.
Passed out on the toilet floor with Luke bent over me I felt I’d reached an all time low.
BLACKOUT
The Right Up!
INTRO SCARLETS KITCHEN
ASKS THE AUDIENCE
Would you like a cup of tea?
I’m gonna make you a cup of tea..
A nice cup of tea...
We don’t have any teabags.
Oh, were out of sugar!
Why’s that Scarlet?
I’m not actually meant to have sugar it makes me a bit...
(Places a tea bag in a cup and adds gin)
Just a bit of dutch courage.
Oh! Your here for the show.
I’m meant to be giving a performance.
SAHARA MOON
FRONT AND CENTRE.
Picture this....
Golden Sands reflecting the moonlight in the deadest, darkest of night.
I have six pack abs and wear crop tops and short skirts that show off my killer thighs.
I tell people exactly what I think of them, without apologizing.
(Moves to dress rail)
I expect a fruit basket in my dressing room and lead a champagne lifestyle.
My breathtaking performances leave people spellbound.
I have a number one album that goes platinum in 50 countries.
(puts on sunglasses)
I’m front page news and on the cover of every magazine.
Parties on private yachts’ and in private mansions.
Paparazzi breaking down my door and record deals galore.
(hands sunglasses to audience)
Call me crazy but I know there’s something more out there for me, and you.
Not to sure about you?
I know there’s something more out there for all of us.
VILLAGE HALL.
(sits on chair centre stage)
My old school held a talent show in the village hall.
AS A TEENAGE VERSION OF SCARLET
The judges are Christine the Vicars wife.
(make the sign of the cross)
Marc a mini man who’d made it in car sales.
(flashes teeth)
Jennifer a beautician-hairdresser who we’d seen on page three.
(sniggers)
Brian the Mayor...
(widens stance)
....Whose a complete perv.
This talent show’s such a big deal that Jason the school counsellor runs additional after
school session for problems ranging from acute anxiety, delusions of grandeur to penis envy.
Jason does these visualization techniques on visualizing the judges.
(takes a grand bow)
To giving a winning audition performance.
Hypnosis is pretty powerful stuff.
Helped half the sixth form give up smoking.
Of course it doesn’t help the other half on weed give up anything they’re to stoned.
I spend ages picking out my winning audition outfit.
(throws something on quick and grabs hairbrush)
The number one career choice of all school leavers is to make it on the TV.
To the despair of Mrs Crickmore the careers advisor.
(moves upstage)
Some parents can afford to pay for private music lesson.
This is the Freeloader’s Village Talent Show.
We rely on raw talent.
I know I can sing.
I sing all the time at home.
But... I now had something to prove.
This is our X-Factor.
( Speaks into hairbrush microphone)
Is this on?
Hello I’m Scarlet.
Is this the gateway to stardom?
A Christmas number one?
Millions of followers?
A date with Harry Styles?
(hides hairbrush)
Every Saturday we watch the X-Factor.
The judges are the nations TV family.
Representing every teenager leaving the education system with such enormous hopes.
(pulls out hairbrush)
I told myself I wasn’t going to blow this audition.
Been practicing for months and not just with a hairbrush.
In front of my mum.
But...
(nods to start the music)
Some...
Some...
Somewhere...
(holds the note and freezes realizing she’s holding her hairbrush)
One Thursday night my parents thought I was at an after school sixth form study session.
I was actually losing my karaoke virginity at the Mayflower.
This was by far my boldest move yet.
The Mayflower in South East London was an adolescent mecca.
It had a strange reputation for strange goings on and all sorts of rumors.
The kind you visit to escape the sanctuary of the private faith school system.
To get in past security and across the threshold was the most intense climax ever.
This was my first time.... here for the chance to sing.
Peering round the misted interior I spotted the bar and there for the first time I got a glimpse of Luke.
What do you want to drink? He asked. I pointed to a bottle of almost fluorescent blue.
What is that?
Melo its watermelon flavor.
In my nervousness I purchased 2 for 1 on alcopops.
He asked me if I was here to see The Burnt Offerings.
A type of Martini not an overdone piece of toast.
Luke’s mate wanted the band to have a cool Bond vibe.
He convinced me to stay on and catch them after the karaoke as they were really good.
It certainly wouldn’t hurt my musical education.
I started to form this picture of me impressing him enough that he’d ask for my number.
It was at the point when the chorus of Robbie Williams Angels swept through the room.
My inhibitions were finally freed enough and I made my way to the floor.
I felt the room spin with what felt like the g-force of a whirlitzer.
Would my bedroom rehearsals payoff?
Would my song choice be right?
As I was handed the microphone and the beat kicked in I felt a sense of certainty.
Then all of a sudden I couldn’t control my breathing or stop the room from spinning.
Then as everything slowed I made a bolt for the bathroom.
This time to puke a cascade of Melo down the toilet.
Passed out on the toilet floor with Luke bent over me I felt I’d reached an all time low.
BLACKOUT
