FST Script/Dialogue
Title: FST Script/Dialogue
Fandom: PotC
Rating: PG, I s'pose
Pairing: implied sparrington/majormajormajor sparrington subtext. whichever you would rather percieve it as.
Notes:yet something else from my FST-verse.
This turned out more cracky than I originally intended, which, I'll admit, was cracky to begin with. for some reason, the muses demanded questionable lasagna. who am I to argue?
Warning: Apostrophe abuse in the name of transcribed accents. Silliness.
SCENE 1:
[Setting-some unused conference room]
Interviewer from some magazine: Josh, there seem to be quite a few rumors going around that you’re planning to leave FST. Is that based in fact at all?
Josh Gibbs: A mite. I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while now.
ISM: Why?
JG: Well, th’other three got this thing goin’ on between ‘em, this connection, and buttin’ in on that be terrible bad luck. Besides, I’m gettin’ old. And Jack’s pretty formidable on th’drums, so I’d be leavin’ ‘em in good hands.
ISM: Sounds like you have a pretty strong case. What’s the other hand? What’s keeping you here?
JG: I think mainly it’s th’name.
ISM: The name?
JG: Aye, the Flying Sea Turtles. Came up with that, I did, and I be a bit loath to part with it. B’sides, I’m fond o’ th’ lads. They be good kids.
ISM: Have you thought about what you would do after, if you left?
JG: Aye. Lizzie be needin’ a drummer somethin’ fierce, an’ since we’re already aquainted-like, so t’speak…or I might quit th’ music business altogether an’ become respectable. Or somethin’.
ISM: One more question before we wrap up here: There have been a lot of stories going around about certain…relationships between members of the band, especially after the whole thing at the concert last week. Which I heard was a publicity stunt, right?
JG: Aye. [takes swig from flask]
ISM: So what’s the story there?
JG: [coughs a bit on the drink] Actually, nothin’. The boys are rather…upset ‘bout what’s bein’ said, really.
ISM: Yeah, okay, sorry about that. Well, it’s been very nice talking with you, Mr. Gibbs.
JG: Aye. No problem.
SCENE 2
[Setting-that evening. Josh and Lizzie are over for dinner at the guys’ house. By “guys” I’m, of course, referring to James, Will and Jack. Whatever.]
[Anyway. Josh is slouching in a chair, elbows on his knees, holding a beer. Will is sitting the wrong way around on one of the kitchen chairs, arms resting on top of the back, drinking Sprite. Lizzie is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one knee bent, foot propped up on the wall. Jamie is sitting on the couch, and Jack has taken the opportunity to sprawl on him, using his lap as a pillow.]
Josh: That’s the last bloody time I cover for you.
Will: You said that last time, too. *smirk*
Lizzie: [to Jack and Jamie, who have started sniping at each other, though neither looks like they have any intention of moving] Can’t you two get a room?
Jack: We would, but y’see, this is our room.
James: *turns vaguely pink*
Josh: Oh good Lord.
Lizzie: *rolls eyes*
Will: *laughs*
Jack: *turns head to grin at Will*
Will: Though you have to admit, snogging on stage in the middle of the concert in Philly didn’t exactly dispel any ideas.
Lizzie: I thought your new PR guy-what’s his name-released something saying it was all part of the show?
Will: You mean Theo? Yeah. They didn’t buy it.
Josh: Word’s been goin’ round that it was a publicity stunt.
Will: Then we’ll go with that. *shrug*
Lizzie: [to Jack and Jamie] Honestly, you two… [sighs in exasperation, stalks out of room, calls back over her shoulder] I’m getting another diet coke. Anyone want anything?
Will: No thanks.
Josh: I’m good.
Jack: [calls over from couch] Rum!
James: *bops him on the head with a convenient pillow*
Jack: [glares at James, pouts (still no inclination of moving off his lap)]
Will: [watching them, grins, shakes head]
Josh: So what’s for dinner?
Will: James and I made lasagna this afternoon.
Jack: Ecch. [gives James an accusatory look] I don’t like lasagna.
James: Well, we searched through all of your blasted papers, and managed to find the one recipe for lasagna you will actually eat.
Jack: *brightens* Really? Spiffy then.
Lizzie: [just returned from the kitchen, glass of soda in hand] Okay, do I even want to know what’s in it?
Will: I’m not really sure, actually. I just boiled the noodles and put everything together at the end. He did all the mixing. [points at James]
Lizzie: [looks pointedly at James]
James: *sighs* I can assure you, there are no illegal substances in this lasagna.
Lizzie: Alcohol content?
James: Minimal.
Will: What’s that supposed to mean?
James: [ignores him]
Lizzie: [wearily] Caffeine?
James: [looks uncomfortable]
Lizzie: Anything else that one wouldn’t normally find in lasagna? Or any other food for that matter?
James: Very little.
Lizzie: [snorts, flops down on armchair]
Jack: [sits up] So…when’s dinner?
Fandom: PotC
Rating: PG, I s'pose
Pairing: implied sparrington/majormajormajor sparrington subtext. whichever you would rather percieve it as.
Notes:yet something else from my FST-verse.
This turned out more cracky than I originally intended, which, I'll admit, was cracky to begin with. for some reason, the muses demanded questionable lasagna. who am I to argue?
Warning: Apostrophe abuse in the name of transcribed accents. Silliness.
SCENE 1:
[Setting-some unused conference room]
Interviewer from some magazine: Josh, there seem to be quite a few rumors going around that you’re planning to leave FST. Is that based in fact at all?
Josh Gibbs: A mite. I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while now.
ISM: Why?
JG: Well, th’other three got this thing goin’ on between ‘em, this connection, and buttin’ in on that be terrible bad luck. Besides, I’m gettin’ old. And Jack’s pretty formidable on th’drums, so I’d be leavin’ ‘em in good hands.
ISM: Sounds like you have a pretty strong case. What’s the other hand? What’s keeping you here?
JG: I think mainly it’s th’name.
ISM: The name?
JG: Aye, the Flying Sea Turtles. Came up with that, I did, and I be a bit loath to part with it. B’sides, I’m fond o’ th’ lads. They be good kids.
ISM: Have you thought about what you would do after, if you left?
JG: Aye. Lizzie be needin’ a drummer somethin’ fierce, an’ since we’re already aquainted-like, so t’speak…or I might quit th’ music business altogether an’ become respectable. Or somethin’.
ISM: One more question before we wrap up here: There have been a lot of stories going around about certain…relationships between members of the band, especially after the whole thing at the concert last week. Which I heard was a publicity stunt, right?
JG: Aye. [takes swig from flask]
ISM: So what’s the story there?
JG: [coughs a bit on the drink] Actually, nothin’. The boys are rather…upset ‘bout what’s bein’ said, really.
ISM: Yeah, okay, sorry about that. Well, it’s been very nice talking with you, Mr. Gibbs.
JG: Aye. No problem.
SCENE 2
[Setting-that evening. Josh and Lizzie are over for dinner at the guys’ house. By “guys” I’m, of course, referring to James, Will and Jack. Whatever.]
[Anyway. Josh is slouching in a chair, elbows on his knees, holding a beer. Will is sitting the wrong way around on one of the kitchen chairs, arms resting on top of the back, drinking Sprite. Lizzie is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one knee bent, foot propped up on the wall. Jamie is sitting on the couch, and Jack has taken the opportunity to sprawl on him, using his lap as a pillow.]
Josh: That’s the last bloody time I cover for you.
Will: You said that last time, too. *smirk*
Lizzie: [to Jack and Jamie, who have started sniping at each other, though neither looks like they have any intention of moving] Can’t you two get a room?
Jack: We would, but y’see, this is our room.
James: *turns vaguely pink*
Josh: Oh good Lord.
Lizzie: *rolls eyes*
Will: *laughs*
Jack: *turns head to grin at Will*
Will: Though you have to admit, snogging on stage in the middle of the concert in Philly didn’t exactly dispel any ideas.
Lizzie: I thought your new PR guy-what’s his name-released something saying it was all part of the show?
Will: You mean Theo? Yeah. They didn’t buy it.
Josh: Word’s been goin’ round that it was a publicity stunt.
Will: Then we’ll go with that. *shrug*
Lizzie: [to Jack and Jamie] Honestly, you two… [sighs in exasperation, stalks out of room, calls back over her shoulder] I’m getting another diet coke. Anyone want anything?
Will: No thanks.
Josh: I’m good.
Jack: [calls over from couch] Rum!
James: *bops him on the head with a convenient pillow*
Jack: [glares at James, pouts (still no inclination of moving off his lap)]
Will: [watching them, grins, shakes head]
Josh: So what’s for dinner?
Will: James and I made lasagna this afternoon.
Jack: Ecch. [gives James an accusatory look] I don’t like lasagna.
James: Well, we searched through all of your blasted papers, and managed to find the one recipe for lasagna you will actually eat.
Jack: *brightens* Really? Spiffy then.
Lizzie: [just returned from the kitchen, glass of soda in hand] Okay, do I even want to know what’s in it?
Will: I’m not really sure, actually. I just boiled the noodles and put everything together at the end. He did all the mixing. [points at James]
Lizzie: [looks pointedly at James]
James: *sighs* I can assure you, there are no illegal substances in this lasagna.
Lizzie: Alcohol content?
James: Minimal.
Will: What’s that supposed to mean?
James: [ignores him]
Lizzie: [wearily] Caffeine?
James: [looks uncomfortable]
Lizzie: Anything else that one wouldn’t normally find in lasagna? Or any other food for that matter?
James: Very little.
Lizzie: [snorts, flops down on armchair]
Jack: [sits up] So…when’s dinner?