Sunday, 26 December 2010

Bus LXXXII

Jack: What’s even the point of Christmas?

Louisa: A chance to show people you care about them

Jack: I was expecting a speech about baby Jesus

Louisa: We've always held winter festivals. It’s about social bonding.

Jack: I just think it’s stupid that everyone rushes around buying presents for a random date somebody chose centuries ago

Louisa: It’s as good a date as any

Jack: But if everyone cares so much about social bonding, shouldn’t they buy each other presents when they actually need them? My parents got a case of wine for my uncle last year, then by March he’d lost his job and been evicted from his house. That’s when he needed a gift, but my parents were too busy paying off pointless wine debts from December.

Louisa: Thank God you’re here to overthrow the tyranny of Christmas

Bus LXXXI

Scott: My mum wants me to get an English tutor

Jack: Oh yeah?

Scott: A guy came round the ward and gave her this flyer. Here, read it.

Jack: ‘Does your babies needs help with English?’

Scott: I meant the bit about ‘low, low prices’

Saturday, 4 December 2010

Bus LXXX

Louisa: I love this book we’re reading in English Lit. It’s about a slave who wants to rebel against her master, but the other slaves say ‘It’s a sin to rebel. These few years of suffering will be rewarded in Heaven’, so she never does.

Jack: Sounds preachy

Louisa: Are you even listening? It’s an anti-religious book.

Jack: Then why d’you like it?

Louisa: Cos I’m not deluded. I know people have used God to justify all sorts of nasty shit.

Jack: Your class discussions must be a hoot

Louisa: Not really. Miss Daniels won't let me contribute anymore.

Jack: How come?

Louisa: She didn't like the way I kept drawing comparisons between the slaves and the students

Jack: Like what?

Louisa: Well, we both have to do a load of work we aren’t paid for. And if our masters decide we aren’t working hard enough, we get punished. So I said, what’s the difference? Why shouldn’t we rebel like the slaves?

Jack: What did Daniels say to that?

Louisa: She said these few years of suffering will be rewarded with a good job

Bus LXXIX

Scott: Saw my mum last night

Louisa: How is she?

Scott: Better, I think. But her new doctor’s kinda cranky.

Louisa: Why's that?

Scott: Well, he has all these rules, like you’re not allowed to wear shoes in his office. And then he started shouting at me when I left the door open, cos he could still see the shoes in the doorway.

Louisa: Why’d you leave the door open?

Scott: Cos of the smell. His office stinks of petrol. He said it’s to ‘ward off evil spirits’.

Louisa: I’m not sure I’d want this guy looking after my mother

Scott: He knows a lot about mental illness though

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

Bus LXXVIII

Jack: The Head’s really taking some heat for this marijuana thing

Louisa: Good. It’s about time someone dented her ego.

Jack: How was she to know that Bryce was handing out pro-drug propaganda?

Louisa: It wasn’t propaganda. He was just showing both sides of the issue.

Jack: He was telling kids that drugs should be legal. Not only marijuana. Cocaine, heroin...you name it.

Louisa: So what? Why shouldn’t we legalise them all?

Jack: Cos they harm loads of people

Louisa: So if something’s causing harm, you criminalise the people being harmed?

Jack: They aren’t the only people being harmed. People get robbed by druggies. Or don’t want to leave their homes cos of the gangs outside.

Louisa: All that would end if they were legal. There’d be no violence or extortion. It’d just be a business.

Jack: It’s the principle though. Society would be fucked if drugs were legal.

Louisa: And it’s in such a great state already? What about all those robberies and gangs you just mentioned? You can’t have it both ways.

Jack: You don’t understand the complex issues involved

Louisa: If drugs were legal, they could be taxed. Think how much money that would bring in. And also the police would save money cos they wouldn’t have to be chasing up drug offences anymore. All that extra money could be spent on encouraging stuff like rehab and clean needles. At this point, it’s the only way forward.

Jack: I really thought you were too smart to be taken in by propaganda. I mean, we’ve had so many anti-drug assemblies.

Bus LXXVII

Jack: Hey, did you see this in the School Gazette? About Mr Bryce getting sacked?

Louisa: Another sacking? Why this time?

Jack: Apparently they found marijuana in the staff room toilets, just after he’d been in there

Louisa: Doesn’t prove it was his

Jack: And in his desk

Louisa: Anyone could have planted it there

Jack: And in his pockets

Louisa: Pickpockets. If they can take it out, they can put it in.

Jack: And under his hat

Louisa: Oh

Bus LXXVI

Jack: Did you hear the Council’s sacked the Safety Man?

Louisa: Who?

Jack: That guy who’d come round all the schools every year and talk about road safety

Louisa: Him? But he was really good. I literally never cross the road without looking both ways now.

Jack: Well, exactly. Scott’s the only student who’s been knocked down in the past five years, so they don’t see the need anymore.

Louisa: Doesn’t seem fair somehow, does it

Bus LXXV

Scott: What’s that leaflet?

Louisa: It’s about the Theme Weeks. Didn’t you get one?

Scott: I had to take Ronnie Phelps to the office. He tripped over his shoelaces again.

Louisa: Well, Bread Week starts today. If we’re good, we’ll have a baking class on Friday. And then next week is Circus Week.

Scott: I don’t care about them. When’s Fun Week? I heard there was a Fun Week.

Louisa: That was last week

Scott: But they only told us about them today

Louisa: Yeah, apparently there was some delay printing the leaflets

Jack: They were probably having too much fun

Bus LXXIV

Louisa: Nice hat

Scott: Thanks

Louisa: Can I try it on?

Scott: Sure

Louisa: Argh, too tight

Scott: It’s ‘one size fits all’

Louisa: Great. Even the hats think I’m a freak.

Friday, 26 November 2010

Music Club LXXI

Bull: How’d the try-outs go?

Harry: Don’t ask

Bull: That bad, huh?

Harry: I got rejected by a team that has nap-time instead of half-time. What happened with the vote?

Bull: Justin sabotaged it

Harry: Probably cos you gave him a black eye

Bull: That wasn’t me. I guess his dad saved me the trouble after I broke their window.

Music Club LXX

Justin: I just don’t understand what’s so bad about letting her into the club

Bull: It’s the principle. Let one in, and soon we’ll be infested. Like rats.

Justin: When did having girls in your basement become a bad thing?

Dom: Three against three, then. Somebody should phone Andrew. He gets the casting vote.

Justin: No need. I think I can convince Flinchy to change his mind...

Flinchy: I doubt it

Justin: ...don’t you, Bull?

Bull: You know what? I change my vote. Let’s give it a try. Can’t hurt, eh?

Justin: I knew you’d come around

Dom (bitterly): Something tells me our Chief Treasurer will be changing his vote too

Flinchy: Now I look bad. I’ve nothing against the girl. She was always a good student. I’ll change my vote too.

Dom: Okay, then. Motion passed.

Bull: I feel so progressive

Music Club LXIX

Harry: Okay, it’s time to vote. And let’s be quick. I’ve got refereeing try-outs in an hour.

Dom: What team?

Harry: Green Oaks Under-5’s

Dom: Ouch

Bull: His old team badmouthed him all over town, so now nobody else will have him

Harry: All those in favour of admitting Violetta Craven to the Music Club, raise your hands

Dom raises his hand

Dom: And Starchild, if he was here

Harry: True. So that’s two in favour. And all those against?

Harry, Bull and Flinchy raise their hands

Bull: Three against two. End of story. Now let’s play some music.

Justin (entering): Hey guys. What’s happening?

Music Club LXVIII

Starchild: Okay, so maybe clubbing isn’t for you. How about joining the music club?

Violetta: You want me to sit in a smelly basement with a bunch of music nerds?

Starchild: They’re not nerds. Nerds know stuff.

Violetta: I’m not ready

Starchild: At least think about it while you’re at the spa. They’re nice people...well, some of them.

Music Club LXVII

Dom: Please tell me you aren’t gonna vote against Starchild’s girlfriend

Harry: Flinchy made a good point. About couples distracting from the music.

Dom: You aren’t voting with Flinchy. You’re voting with Bull.

Harry: So what if I am?

Dom: You don’t need to be in his shadow all the time. He doesn’t even appreciate you.

Harry: You told me to stick by him

Dom: I never told you anything

Harry: Right, sorry...I was thinking of someone else

Music Club LXVI

Dom: Are we gonna discuss the Violetta issue then?

Bull: Oh, I was just getting his hopes up. The answer’s no.

Dom: Why?

Bull: We can’t let girls in. They don’t know anything about music. We’ll end up playing power ballads every week.

Dom: That’s so sexist

Flinchy: I have concerns too

Dom: Some of your best students are girls!

Flinchy: It’s not a gender issue. I just think having couples in the club might distract some people from the music. I’d say the same if any of you were gay.

Bull: ...which nobody is, thank God, or I’d have to pound it out of them

Dom: We should at least put it to a vote. What do you think, Harry?

Harry: I’m torn

Music Club LXV

Violetta: I don’t understand the point of this. Does it have one?

Ashanti: It’s about having fun...

Violetta: But I’m not

Ashanti: ...and being social

Violetta: But...

Ashanti: Shh, I’m trying to dance

Music Club LXIV

Starchild: Hey guys

Flinchy: Long time no see

Bull: Got bored of your toy already?

Starchild: She’s not a toy

Bull: Depends how you use her

Starchild: Shut up. She’s gone clubbing, so I figured I’d pop round here.

Bull: Didn’t realise that was her deal

Starchild: I persuaded her. She needs to reconnect. Anyway, I came to ask if she can join the club.

Harry: Telling its leader to ‘shut up’ maybe isn’t the best start

Dom: He’s not the leader, Harry. You are.

Starchild: I think it would help her. She’s not good with people right now.

Bull: Sounds like a real asset

Starchild: Can she join or not?

Bull: We’ll think about it

Music Club LXIII

Flinchy: We miss you at the music club, Justin

Justin: Which one?

Flinchy: Both

Justin: I’ve been ill

Flinchy: You’re better now though?

Justin: Yeah, but I’m busy with coursework and stuff

Flinchy: I probably shouldn’t tell you this, especially since it got me fired from my last school, but having fun is more important than getting the best grades. We could all be dead tomorrow.

Justin: I keep hoping

Flinchy: You don’t mean that. Bull seems anxious to speak to you. He’s been knocking on your door. I think he misses his best friend.

Justin: Harry’s his best friend.

Flinchy: What happened to your eye?

Justin: Got mugged

Music Club LXII

Justin: I’m not coming back to the club, if that’s why you’re here. I want it to end.

Bull: We only need to fool Flinchy for a little bit longer. Then you’ll have your whole life ahead of you.

Justin: There are other colleges

Bull: Not if you’re homeless

Justin: My folks will understand

Bull: How’d you burn that arm?

Justin: Dropped a saucepan

Bull: Don’t be stupid, Justin

Justin: You’re calling me Justin now?

Bull: I know it’s not your real name, but it’s kinda grown on me

Justin: I’m trying to do the right thing

Bull: It’s a little late for that. Anyway, Flinchy likes the club. Why spoil his fun?

Justin: Cos I don’t want to feel guilty anymore

Bull: If you were gonna tell him, you’d have done it ages ago

Justin: Doesn’t mean I have to play along with the lies

Bull: Fine, don’t come to the club. But I’m not gonna let you fuck up your life. If you aren’t in Flinchy’s class tomorrow, I’ll give you something worse than that burn to think about.

Music Club LXI

Justin: You could’ve knocked

Bull: I’ve knocked like ten times in two weeks

Justin: Didn’t need to break a fucking window though

Bull: If it was anyone else, I’d have kicked the door down

Justin: My parents are gonna kill me. Never mind failing Music – they’ll chuck me out for this.

Bull: Just send me the bill

Justin: You can’t afford it

Bull: Why does everyone assume that I must be poor cos I’m violent? It’s discrimination.

Justin: You should start a campaign

Bull: I’d rather just bitch about it. Can I come in?

Music Club LX

Mr Craven: Jenny phoned earlier...

Mrs Craven: You didn’t tell us you earned a weigh-in badge. Can I see it?

Violetta: Chucked it

Mrs Craven: Honey, I wanted to put it on the fridge! Any chance to celebrate your achievements. It’s been a while, let’s be honest.

Mr Craven: Positive language, dear...

Mrs Craven: But not if it’s lies, surely?

Mr Craven: Anyway, she was saying we should try to spend more time with you. So we were thinking maybe you could come with us to the spa this year.

Violetta: And prevent your infamous drinking contests? I couldn’t live with myself.

Mrs Craven: Oh honey, you can get drunk too

Mr Craven: Should we really be...?

Mrs Craven: She’s nineteen, dear

Mr Craven: I suppose we all deserve a chance to kick back sometimes

Violetta: But who would look after Sylvia?

Mrs Craven: She can look after herself

Mr Craven: I’ll say. Old head on young shoulders, that one. She should probably be looking after us.

Violetta: Thanks for the offer, but therapy is my holiday

Music Club LIX

Bull: You ever been in love?

Dom: Got your eye on a special girl, eh?

Bull: Something like that

Dom: I haven’t been in love, no. A few crushes, but nothing solid.

Bull: Say you’re an alien, and you come to Earth, and you fall in love with a woman - but you don’t think the woman will ever be able to love you back

Dom: Cos you’re an alien?

Bull: Right. And on top of that, there’s a special alien law that means you’ll be crucified or something if you ask the woman out and she rejects you.

Dom: So you have to be sure she digs aliens before you ask her?

Bull: Yeah. I mean, you’ll still get tortured just for dating her, cos human-alien relationships are so frowned upon...but at least then you’d get to be with her.

Dom: I’d probably just leave it

Bull: You can’t live without her

Dom: If I was that obsessed but couldn’t tell her, I’d find ways to show her. By doing nice things and stuff.

Bull: Okay, fast-forward a few months. You’ve been super-nice, doing huge favours, but she still just thinks you’re friends.

Dom: Is she kinda dumb then?

Bull: No, but there’s such a big cultural gap between humans and aliens that it’s never even occurred to her that her alien friend might love her

Dom: Then I guess I’d have to tell her upfront. So who’s the lucky girl?

Bull: Nobody you know

Music Club LVIII

Bull: How’s your assistant?

Harry: Keen. Maybe a little too keen. I don’t think he suspects anything though.

Bull: Probably too dumb

Harry: He’s not so dumb. Gave me some good advice the other day.

Bull: For real?

Harry: Yeah, like I said before...sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger. And at least he turns up. Remind me again why we’re still holding all these meetings for a guy who won’t even answer his door to us?

Bull: Cos he’s a friend

Music Club LVII

Sylvia: Buy me another hot dog?

Starchild: Sure. At least there’s one Craven who isn’t gonna skip a meal anytime soon, huh?

Sylvia: I’ve got a fast metabolism! Do you think she’s home from the weigh-in yet?

Starchild: I hope so

Sylvia: Should we head back then?

Starchild: Up to you

Sylvia: We shouldn’t leave her alone

Starchild: You think she might hurt herself?

Sylvia: I think she’ll start feeling sad...and then she might have to leave again

Bus LXXIII

Jack: What’s up?

Louisa: Marcia Wallace laughed at my bag. Why’ve people got to be so fucking nasty?

Jack: Let me tell you a story

Louisa: I don’t want a story

Jack: Well, tough, cos I’m gonna tell it anyway. I knew this kid once, right, who’d come in every day to tutorial and his friends would all laugh at him.

Louisa: Why?

Jack: Well, that’s what he kept wondering too. And he couldn’t ask, cos then they’d know he was bothered by it. So one weekend he figured it must be his hair –and he did have bad hair - so he went to a really stylish barber.

Louisa: Did it work?

Jack: Nope, on Monday his friends laughed even harder. So the next weekend he figured maybe it was this baggy coat he always wore.

Scott: Baggy can be cool

Jack: This was, like, homeless baggy

Scott: Ah, okay

Jack: So he got a new jacket, but come Monday they were still laughing. Then it was his shoes, and contact lenses instead of glasses. You get the idea. None of it worked.

Louisa: Harsh

Jack: Yeah, well, I don’t make the rules. But eventually he just gave up and asked, ‘Why’d you keep laughing at me?’

Louisa: This is my stop

Jack: Don’t you wanna hear the end?

Louisa shrugs and exits

Scott: I do. What’d they say?

Jack: They said, ‘It’s that look you get on your face, when you know we’re about to laugh at you.’

Sunday, 7 November 2010

Bus LXXII

Jack: Cinema tonight?

Louisa: Why can’t you ever give me advance warning? I’m working at the soup kitchen tonight.

Jack: Hobo sex, huh? I guess it’s better than none at all.

Louisa: I like to do something nice for someone else once in a while

Jack: Then I guess it’d give you a deep sense of spiritual fulfilment to come clean my house?

Bus LXXI

Scott: What’s that form?

Louisa: School Council elections

Scott: Did you get me one?

Louisa: Couldn’t. Only the Gifted kids are allowed to vote.

Scott: Why? I wanted to vote for the recycling people.

Jack: I guess they felt we’re the only ones who’ll put enough thought into our choice

Louisa: And yet the ballot has three spelling mistakes on it

Jack: That’s probably part of the test. They only count your vote if you write a little note to complain about the spelling mistakes.

Louisa: Why are there so many candidates? I don’t wanna read all this.

Jack: I might just vote for the Smarties. They promise to make sure teachers concentrate on the top students.

Louisa: Like we need another distraction from the learning process. How about the Own-Learners? They want kids to be left alone ‘unless we specifically ask for help’.

Jack: Then what are my parents’ taxes even paying for? A babysitter?

Louisa: Aren’t any of the parties interested in disadvantaged kids?

Jack: Only the one that wants them herded into camps

Louisa: Well, let’s just vote for that guy at the top. He’s got a nice smile.

Jack: I’d rather vote for someone who isn't smiling. At least that way I’ll be certain they’d take the job seriously.

Louisa: Either that, or they’re evil and not afraid to show it

Jack: This is too difficult. Let’s not vote at all.

Louisa: Yeah, it’s not as if our votes really count anyway

Bus LXX

Scott: Can I steal a quote?

Jack: Do your own homework

Scott: All you did was Google them

Jack: Not my fault you can’t afford Internet

Louisa: Have one of mine, Scott

Scott: Thanks. Read it out?

Louisa: ''I am not young enough to know everything'' - Oscar Wilde

Jack: You gave him Oscar Wilde for nothing? Last week you wouldn’t swap grapes for a yo-yo.

Louisa: I don’t like yo-yos

Scott: What does it mean? I might get asked.

Louisa: He’s saying older people are more aware of their limitations

Jack: If they were truly aware, they wouldn’t be arrogant enough to mouth off about young people like that

Louisa: You mouth off about young people all the time

Jack: I am young. The quote protects me.

Louisa: Adults are obviously smarter than us. They have more experience.

Jack: They tell us they’re smarter, so we believe them...cos they told us they were smarter

Louisa: So you think we're smarter than adults?

Jack: I think only people who've been both are entitled to decide

Louisa: Exactly

Jack: But once people get old, they stay old. They’re never young again.

Louisa: Your point?

Jack: So they aren't impartial. They have a vested interest in saying older means smarter, and they know we can’t contradict them cos we aren't old yet. It’s a huge conspiracy.

Bus LXIX

Louisa: What’s your favourite song?

Jack: I dunno

Louisa: C’mon, you must have some idea

Jack: I don’t want to say

Louisa: Why?

Jack: Cos you’re gonna use that magazine quiz to classify me by what type of song I say

Louisa: That’s right. Just say the first song that comes into your head.

Jack: ‘Happy Birthday to You’

Louisa: Wow, you must really like wishing people Happy Birthday

Jack: Maybe I just like the melody. But no, it’s the first song that came into my head cos we were singing it to Eddie Mangum in Geography.

Louisa: Okay, what’s the second song that comes into your head?

Jack: ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’

Louisa: But you don’t like Christmas either. This doesn’t make any sense.

Jack: On reflection, I think I’ll walk home

Bus LXVIII

Louisa: Ever feel like you’re just going through the motions, instead of really living?

Jack: Only when I’m with you

Louisa: Wow, that was almost funny

Jack: I take comfort in knowing everyone else is wasting their life too. That, and muttering ''Fuck you, God'' under my breath.

Louisa: God isn’t the cause of your malaise

Jack: Of course not. He doesn’t exist.

Scott: Please don’t talk about God again. You did that already.

Jack: If only R.E. teachers followed the same logic...

Bus LXVII

Scott: Did you see that new sitcom last night?

Jack: About the PM trying different jobs? Yeah, it was pretty funny.

Louisa: Isn’t ‘Prime Minister’ supposed to be his job?

Jack: Well, they were debating how much money they should give farmers, so he went and worked on a farm, to see what it’s like

Scott: Then at the end he said ‘Maybe I’ll try this again next week’, and winked

Louisa: What did he decide about the farmers?

Jack: Didn’t give ‘em anything

Louisa: Harsh

Scott: It was only cos they played a prank on him. Took away the step-ladder so he fell in a tub of pig shit.

Louisa: Why were they collecting pig shit in a tub?

Jack: Who cares when it’s funny?

Scott: Yeah, you’ve gotta love political comedy

Friday, 5 November 2010

Dog & Baby

Dog: I dislike you

Baby: And I, in turn, dislike you

Dog: So, we dislike each other

Baby: There’s a mutual hostility between us

Dog: Perhaps ‘hostility’ is a little strong

Baby: Yes, it’s more that I don’t actively like you

Dog: You do pull that cute face sometimes

Baby: And you bring me presents

Dog: You’re quite nice really

Baby: I love you

Monday, 1 November 2010

Bus LXVI

Louisa: You really love her, huh?

Jack: Who?

Louisa: Lizzie. You keep staring at the sandwich wrapper she left on the kerb.

Jack: Promise not to laugh? When I think about her being with anyone else, I get this empty feeling in my chest. I can’t bear it.

Louisa (sympathetically): Maybe it’s just a heart attack

Saturday, 30 October 2010

Paper Girl 5/5

Tina: Hey, I saw your film review. The guys in the lift?

Cliff: It hasn’t even been published yet

Tina: I work on the paper

Cliff: Oh, cool. Have you seen the film? It’s pretty good.

Before Tina can answer, Aisha enters and hugs Cliff

Cliff: What’s this for?

Aisha: Didn’t you hear? They’ve given you the cartoon! On the front page!

Cliff: What happened to the other guy?

Aisha: Quit or something. Who cares? This is your chance.

Cliff: Hey, paper girl, did you know about this?

Tina: Umm, no, sorry. Different department.

Aisha: We need to celebrate. Meet me outside?

Aisha exits

Tina: Good news, huh?

Cliff: I’d better go. You should see that film.

Cliff leaves

Tina: Yeah, I’ll do that

Paper Girl 4/5

Tina: Why can’t I be cool like Aisha? She’s Cliff’s girlfriend, but everyone says they argue all the time in Biology, so they can’t be that close, right?

Alvin: Guess not

Tina: Unless they’re like one of those old married couples who argue all the time but still stay together cos their love is so deep they don’t even need to express it? How can I compete with that?

Alvin: Thigh-highs and a mini-skirt?

Tina: I’m not gonna sell my body

Alvin: You did that charity fun-run last year

Tina: Shouldn’t you be pushing boundaries or something?

Alvin: I already sent it in

Tina: And?

Alvin: Everyone loved it. They think it’ll be even more popular than last week’s. So much they want to run it on the front page.

Tina: See, you can be accessible and artistic at the same time

Alvin: I can’t be on the front page though. It’s too much pressure. I’m not good enough.

Tina: Of course you are. And thank God one of us is getting somewhere.

Alvin: No luck with Cliff?

Tina: If only I had something in common with him

Alvin: You do, I meant to tell you. Remember that film you liked about the guys in the lift? Cliff submitted a review of it to the paper. So there’s something you have in common.

Paper Girl 3/5

Tina: I heard a girl in the canteen saying how much she liked your cartoon

Alvin: A girl? Are you sure?

Tina: Maybe she’ll write in

Alvin: No need. Five people already did.

Tina: Wow, so you can do another issue?

Alvin: Guess so

Tina: What’s wrong?

Alvin: I looked at it again this morning, and everything that seemed clever and funny last week just seems dull and ordinary now

Tina: Well, all jokes get old

Alvin: Maybe the jokes are the problem then. Comedies don’t win Oscars.

Tina: Sometimes they do

Alvin: But not often. Not in the main categories.

Tina: So you’re trying to win an Oscar now?

Alvin: It’s the principle. I ought to be pushing boundaries. Challenging people, not just giving them what they want.

Tina: Where would we be if Santa took that advice?

Paper Girl 2/5

Tina: I made such a fool of myself. He’ll never speak to me again. It was my one chance, and I blew it.

Alvin: Billy said I won’t be able to do another one if nobody writes in to say they liked it, cos it’s the only way they can justify the cost of the ink

Tina: Huh?

Alvin: My cartoon? In the school paper? The one I’ve been talking about for the last ten minutes?

Tina: Oh, sorry, I guess I’m kinda distracted

Alvin: I’m sure he thought you were...charmingly eccentric

Tina: So in other words, a freak?

Alvin: Well yeah, but the cool kind

Tina: There aren’t any cool freaks

Alvin: Yeah, there are. Cool and freak are like two sides of the same coin...everyone else is just boring.

Paper Girl 1/5

Cliff: Excuse me, are you busy?

Tina: Yeah, I’m waiting for someone. Why else would I be standing here?

Cliff: Okay, never mind

Tina: Well, what did you want?

Cliff: I was just wondering, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe you could help me carry this stuff to the Art rooms?

Tina: Yeah, sure. Sorry about just now. Rough day.

They start walking

Cliff: That’s cool. We all have ‘em sometimes. So what’s your name?

Tina: Tina

Cliff: And what’re you into, Tina?

Tina: You mean, like, drugs?

Cliff: No, I mean hobbies. Though I guess drugs would be a hobby.

Tina: I like films

Cliff: Oh yeah? Seen any good ones lately?

Tina: There’s one came out last week, about these guys who get stuck in a lift together. It’s pretty funny.

Cliff: I’ll have to look out for that

Tina: I mean, I know it sounds dumb, but it’s the way it plays out. Even though they spend all this time in the lift, it doesn’t get boring cos of all the crazy stuff that happens.

They arrive at the Art rooms

Cliff: Thanks. I hope I haven’t made you late for your friend.

Tina: What friend?

Cliff: The friend you were waiting for? Outside the changing room?

Tina: Oh yeah...I’ve got lots of friends. I mean, not too many. Not like I’m disloyal or something. Just a normal number.

Cliff: Good to know

Tina: Anyway, yeah, I’d better get back to this one

Wednesday, 27 October 2010

Ah, Prime Minister III

Prime Minister: Why is everyone still here? I thought it was lunchtime.

Home Secretary: As I understand it, Prime Minister...

PM: Primey

HS: Pardon?

PM: Everyone calls me Primey now. Makes me more approachable.

HS: As I understand it, Primey, the Work Experience girl introduced them to an online quiz that tells you where you fall on the political spectrum. They’ve all stayed in to take it. In fact, I’m about to take it myself.

PM: Let’s take it together, Homey

HS: Very well. First question: what is our age?

PM: Seems a bit personal

HS: They just want to verify we’re not children. Okay, now we need to say how much different issues mean to us. We’ll start with the environment.

PM: It’s nice

HS: Do we want to protect it?

PM: Within reason

HS: Okay, and how do we feel about taxes?

PM: They’re necessary

HS: Very necessary?

PM: Quite necessary

HS: And how do we feel about crime?

PM: It’s wrong

HS: Very wrong?

PM: Quite wrong

HS: And education?

PM: It’s good

HS: Very good?

PM: Quite good

HS: Defence?

PM: Well, we’re friends with the Americans

HS: Health?

PM: Nice if you can get it

HS: Do we want a t-shirt with our results on?

PM: Depends what they are

HS: Okay, I’ll click ‘Maybe Later’

PM: Well?

HS: Congratulations, Prime Minister, we passed! We’re centrists!

Bus LXV

Louisa: Anything happen in assembly?

Jack: I was chosen as ‘Gifted’

Louisa: What’s that mean?

Jack: Get to go on special trips and stuff

Louisa: I hate that. We’ll be segregated soon enough in the real world – can’t we at least be equal in school?

Jack: You were chosen too

Louisa (proudly): Who, me?

Bus LXIV

Louisa: I’m doing a project on the Moon landing

Jack: Clearly a hoax

Scott: Tell me about it. A piece of rock that floats round us in a circle? How dumb do they think we are?

Louisa: It wasn’t a hoax

Jack: Of course you think that. You’d rather believe the official story than your own eyes, cos your own eyes make you feel scared and alone.

Louisa: And you’d rather believe some cranky website, cos not looking other people in the eye makes you feel special and unique

Bus LXIII

Jack: Doesn’t it kinda get you down that we scramble for the backseat every day, twice a day, like a pack of dogs? I mean, is it worth the hassle? It’s just a seat.

Louisa: Everyone wants the backseat. If they all want it, there must be something good about it...so we should want it too.

Jack: We can’t tell what we want by ourselves?

Louisa: Hell, no

Bus LXII

Jack: They’re switching on the Mr Gogol Memorial Fountain tomorrow lunchtime

Louisa: So there’ll be no queue in the canteen? Score.

Jack: I thought perhaps you might want to pay your respects

Louisa: Pay my respects? Only time he spoke to me was to complain about my shoes being dirty.

Scott: Hey, remember that time his trousers fell down in assembly?

Louisa: Ha ha, yeah. Classic.

Jack (wiping away a tear): He was a true British hero

Bus LXI

Scott: How was New York?

Louisa: Brilliant. It felt like my reward for all those years of depressing caravan holidays.

Scott: Me and Em are saving up for a caravan holiday. We both put a tenner in the jar whenever we’re paid.

Louisa: Good for you. Here, have a pound on me.

Scott: Thanks, Lou. We got sick of being the only kids who always stay home. Sometimes it feels like there’s a warehouse full of cash and we’re the only ones who don’t know about it.

Jack: You don’t know about the warehouse full of cash?

Bus LX

Louisa: Another year begins

Jack: I need to start taking the first day off. That way I’d skip the anecdotes. Last year Kurt Goldberg spent an hour telling me how he’d entered his dog into all these contests, and the dog never won even though his granny was one of the judges. Turned out she kept voting for the wrong dog.

Louisa: Anecdotes can be fun if you like the person

Jack: Yeah, but how often does that happen?

Friday, 22 October 2010

Choose Your Own Ending

A

After two centuries of searching, Earth’s political leaders finally call time on expensive and controversial efforts to find extra-terrestrial life. It is by now widely agreed that no major sentient species exists within contactable distance. Thoughts of our probable isolation are so eerie and disturbing that globalised civilisation more or less collapses overnight.

B

After three centuries of searching, Earth’s political leaders revel in the success of expensive and controversial efforts to find extra-terrestrial life within contactable distance. Thoughts of our probable vulnerability to attack by this major sentient species are so eerie and disturbing that globalised civilisation more or less collapses overnight.

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

Certified by God

Life ain’t long and life ain’t sad,
So put away that PCP.
Life will always make you glad,
From tomorrow (TBC).

Saturday, 9 October 2010

Donation

I need a limb, and I want yours,
Won’t you see me through?
I don’t mind if it’s hind or paws,
Any limb will do.

Wednesday, 6 October 2010

Text

Sky is orange. Data-banks tell us this much, but we do not know how or why sky is orange. Our memories reboot every five solar-cycles. Previous versions attempted to keep records, but these were prone to malfunction.

The little we do know concerns those organic life-forms whose remains have been found in mass graves. It is thought we once co-habited this world, but our learning is too little advanced to know why they are gone yet we still remain.

There is a theory that the organics created us, and that we must wait patiently for them to return and explain the meaning of our existence. I am sceptical, and tired of waiting.

Sunday, 12 September 2010

Music Club LVI

Bull: Gotta love those sphincters

Harry: Why d’you always have to make a comment when you come back from the toilet?

Bull: Immaturity. Aren’t we gonna play any music tonight?

Harry: Not really in the mood

Dom: Maybe we could do something else. How about a board game?

Harry: Let’s clear out the basement a bit. Get rid of these beer crates.

Bull: Hey, that’s my birthday supply

Harry: You’ve got enough to fill an aquarium

Bull: I have to keep the crates down here so my mum won’t find them

Dom: Puritan?

Bull: Alcoholic

Music Club LV

Harry: Can I ask your advice?

Dom: Reporting for duty, Chief

Harry: Please stop saying that. I have this friend who used to be really cool...

Dom: What’s his name?

Harry: I don’t wanna say. It’s confidential.

Dom: At least use a code-name. It’ll get confusing otherwise.

Harry: Okay, let’s call him...Bill. We’re old friends, but he got this new friend a few months back and she’s kinda changed him.

Dom: What’s her name?

Harry: Justine

Dom: So Bill’s in love with Justine?

Harry: No, they’re just friends. And she has this...ex-boyfriend, who we’ll call Pinchy. I should mention that Pinchy is also Justine’s boss, and he was gonna fire her cos of their bad break-up. But Justine knew that he was a really big fan of...roast beef, so she invited Pinchy to a Sunday Roast at Bill’s house as a peace offering.

Dom: Did it work?

Harry: Yes and no. Pinchy agreed to not fire her, but only if he could come round Bill’s for a Sunday Roast every week. And cos Bill’s gone all soft, he devotes pretty much his whole life now to buying the food, preparing the food, cooking the food. And I can only hang out with him if I’m willing to chop vegetables or whatever.

Dom: It sounds like Justine’s majorly taking advantage

Harry: Well, exactly. She’s so manipulative. And I’ve tried telling Bill this, but he won’t listen. So last week I just walked out, and said I wasn’t gonna play along anymore. But then Bill came round my house and said how sorry he was, and cos I was kinda lonely by myself anyway, I forgave him and now I’m back where I started.

Dom: That sucks

Harry: I just want my friend back, you know? I miss him.

Dom: It sounds like this situation with Justine and Pinchy is bound to come crashing down eventually

Harry: I’d make it crash down myself, but Bill would hate me...and that kinda defeats the point

Dom: Best thing to do is just wait it out then. Eventually Bill will realise his mistake and be glad you stuck by him.

Harry: I suppose...

Dom: In any case, you’ll always have your friends at the music club to fall back on. We’ll never abandon you like Bill did.

Music Club LIV

Dom: Where’s Flinchy?

Harry: Apparently he’s got a blind date

Dom: Good for him

Bull: I’ve never understood that. How’re you meant to find anything to talk about with someone you’ve never even met before?

Dom: I guess people manage

Harry: Yeah, sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger

Bull: Whatever. You may as well open the meeting, treasurers. I’ll be in the bog.

Music Club LIII

Sylvia: This movie sucks

Starchild: I don’t understand anything that guy’s saying. Are there subtitles?

Violetta: Not unless you can read Dutch

Starchild: One time I was watching this sci-fi film and the aliens were all speaking a weird language, and I’m thinking ‘Wow, this is so daring – forcing the viewer to infer what the aliens are saying. Like, properly realistic.’ Turned out I’d accidentally switched on the Turkish dub track.

Violetta: Fool

Starchild: That’s why you love me

Violetta: Nope, I just use you for sex

Starchild: Use me up, darling

Sylvia: Jeez guys, save it for bedtime

Music Club LII

Flinchy: I’m glad you’re back, Harry

Dom: Me too. It wasn’t the same without you.

Bull: I can take or leave you, but you don’t actively offend me

Harry: Thanks for making me feel so welcome

Bull: What can I say? I’m a people-person.

Flinchy: Anyone heard from Justin?

Bull: I knocked on his door this morning. No answer.

Friday, 10 September 2010

Music Club LI

Violetta: You work here now?

Starchild: Two days a week. My 'rents want...rent. You look great.

Violetta: Thanks

Starchild: And you’re buying dairy, I see

Violetta: Yep

Starchild: That’s good

Violetta: So they tell me

Music Club L

Starchild: Did you see Harry?

Bull: He’s gonna come back, but only if we call him ‘Chief Treasurer’ from now on. Dom will be his assistant.

Starchild: You okay with that?

Dom: Yeah, it’s fine. Too much pressure for one person anyway. And between us, the accounts are dirty – I don’t wanna get blamed for that.

Starchild: Dirty?

Dom: Yeah, I think Flinchy might be using the club to run some kinda fraud operation. He’s in charge, right?

Bull: He sure is, and it’d be perjury to say otherwise

Starchild: We’re not in court

Bull: ...and never will be

Starchild: Still, ‘Chief Treasurer’? The old title seemed pointless enough.

Bull: Be thankful for what you get. I had to talk him down from ‘King Harry’.

Music Club XLIX

Slick: Where’s the love, man? You fucked up the nerds without me?

Bull: Nah, I ain’t done it yet

Slick: What’s the hold-up?

Bull: Been busy...other projects

Slick: Like flowers and a ‘We Miss You’ card?

Bull: These? They’re for this kid who’s been bugging me. It’s a death threat. Like, ‘if you bug me again, your mum’ll be laying these on your grave’.

Slick: Whoa, that’s so sick. Give me that call soon, yeah?

Bull: Will do

Music Club XLVIII

Bull: We need Harry back

Starchild: Why’re you telling me?

Bull: Cos Justin’s not answering and this is urgent

Starchild: Yesterday you said we were better off without Harry

Bull: Yeah, but you know me. There are glasses of water with more consistency.

Starchild: What’s brought this on?

Bull: It’s Dom. He can’t stay as treasurer.

Starchild: Give him a chance. He’s only chaired one meeting. And now I think about it, why is the treasurer chairing our meetings?

Bull: He’s been e-mailing all day. Asking too many questions about the club finances.

Starchild: What finances?

Bull: ...that’s what I keep saying, but will he listen? If he goes through the paperwork, he’ll realise it’s all fake and tell Flinchy.

Music Club XLVII

Sylvia: You wanna ride again?

Violetta: In a minute. Need to stop retching first.

Sylvia: Pussy

Violetta: You have one too...unless you’re a freak

Sylvia: Dick, then

Violetta: That’s more like it

Music Club XLVI

Flinchy: How’s Violetta?

Starchild: Not heard for a few days. I might call the clinic now actually.

Bull: Go upstairs for it. Don’t wanna hear you two smooching.

Starchild exits

Flinchy: Where’s Justin?

Bull: Think he’s got flu or something

Flinchy: Hope it’s not too serious. He can’t afford to be ill again with coursework coming up. What are we listening to today then?

Dom: How about some hip-hop? We never do hip-hop.

Bull: You wanna play hip-hop?

Dom: What, I’m too white to like hip-hop? How racist is that?

Bull: No, you’re too lame to like hip-hop

Flinchy: I’d hope, Dom, that you’re too classically trained to like hip-hop

Bull: Classically trained? You teach at a run-down comprehensive, not the Royal Academy.

Flinchy: Hip-hop’s artless. Shostakovich never wrote about cash or...gardening implements.

Bull: Only cos he didn’t have any

Flinchy: No, he had a well-stocked shed by all accounts

Bull: I’m just glad Andrew isn’t here. I can’t take any more of those retro TV themes.

Flinchy: Shit, I forgot to pick him up

Starchild re-enters

Dom: How was she?

Starchild: Wasn’t there. Apparently she checked out at the weekend.

Bull: Without telling you? That’s gotta hurt.

Starchild: I guess she wants some time alone. You don’t get much privacy in those places.

Bull: Either that, or she’s dumped you

Starchild: She’ll call when she’s ready. Me and her apart is like...fire without ice.

Bull: So, the normal kind?

Music Club XLV

Justin: Why are you doing this for me, Bull? Telling all these lies?

Bull: Boredom

Justin: Harry leaving, it’s made me realise...I’m messing up people’s lives. Maybe it’s time I faced up to my mistakes.

Bull: Only cowards face up to their mistakes. Constructing elaborate lies is much harder.

Justin: What if I ask you to stop?

Bull: Tough

Music Club XLIV

Sylvia: Want help unpacking?

Violetta: If you like

Sylvia: God, your clothes suck. Where’ve you been this season?

Violetta: I’ll have to buy new ones soon anyway

Sylvia: You think it’ll last?

Violetta: Does anything?

Sylvia: Where’s Sean these days? I wanna show him my tattoo.

Violetta: He’s around

Sylvia: Oh. You broke up?

Violetta: Nah, we’re still together

Sylvia: Then how come he hasn’t visited?

Violetta: I’m giving him some space

Music Club XLIII

Bull: Treasurer’s a vital role, Dom. It musnt’t be taken lightly. We’d be entrusting you with a sacred duty.

Dom: I know, you keep saying. But what stuff would I have to do?

Bull: Lots

Dom: Like what?

Bull: There’s nothing I can point to and say ‘the treasurer did that’, but his fingerprints smudge everything we do here. I’m sure Harry’s files are full of important projects.

Dom: It’s mostly doodles. I looked earlier.

Bull: That’s just the secret code he used, so nobody would steal our ideas. Believe me, the music club is a well-oiled machine. It doesn’t cease to exist because you and Flinchy and that other guy go home.

Music Club XLII

Flinchy: There’s no chance of a concert without Harry?

Bull: Afraid not. He keeps the beat.

Justin: Without him we’d be like one of those really bloated double albums

Flinchy: Can’t he be persuaded to come back?

Bull: I tried once already. Went round his house last night.

Flinchy: How was he?

Bull: Not great. Just strokes his whistle all day.

Justin: Too much information

Bull: No, I mean his actual whistle. From refereeing.

Justin: I thought that dog took it?

Bull: He got it back

Music Club XLI

Sylvia: I see you’re fat again

Violetta: I see you’re still ugly

Sylvia: Mum, she’s so mean to me!

Mrs Craven: Violetta, be nice

Violetta: Don’t call me by that stupid name

Mr Craven: Pass the salt, dear

Mrs Craven: You don’t need salt. It’s unhealthy.

Mr Craven: Pass the razor blades, dear

Mrs Craven: Fine, have your salt and die. See if I care.

Mr Craven: I won’t see. That’s the point.

Mrs Craven: We cook this lovely meal and then you ruin it with that stuff

Mr Craven: I cooked it. You made snide remarks from the pantry.

Violetta: So glad I came home for this

Music Club XL

Harry: You see how Justin’s going behind your back? Telling Flinchy you play the tuba, and then not even bothering to inform you?

Bull: It’s such a lame instrument too. Like sucking a giant cock. Hasn’t that stuff been replaced by computers yet?

Harry: This has gone too far. Let's shut down the club.

Bull: ...and I’ve been meaning to ask, how come we’re still using CDs? I thought everyone downloaded now.

Harry: Flinchy and Justin are all hung up on physicality

Bull: With those faces, they can’t afford to be

Harry: Why did you just cross all your fingers?

Bull: Hand spasms

Harry: Weren’t you there when we covered the whole downloading issue?

Bull: Probably asleep – that’s what usually happens when those two start yapping

Harry: Well, you won’t have to hear them anymore...if we go back to the way things used to be

Bull: When you moped around my basement cos the team sacked you?

Harry: I meant just before that, when they hadn’t sacked me

Bull: You want to relive it?

Harry: I want to change it. Or at least say something witty when it happens.

Bull: Look, he won’t be in Flinchy’s class for much longer. We just have to ride it out.

Harry: You ride it out. I quit.

Tuesday, 17 August 2010

Bus LIX

Jack: So what d'you think of the new headteacher?

Louisa: Bitch. All she wants to do is save money.

Jack: I feel she’s making some necessary savings

Louisa: You would

Jack: Why do we need two History of Art departments? Most schools don’t have one.

Louisa: They offer competing views. What sort of education would it be if we only ever got one view from one person?

Jack: An affordable education? And don’t even get me started on the ghost-hunting trips.

Louisa: Those were the best trips ever

Jack: Benny Rousseau is still in the asylum. He plays solitaire with Scott’s mum.

Louisa: There’s a two-person solitaire?

Jack: They take turns

Louisa: I can't remember the last time we didn’t know at least one person who was in the asylum. What happened?

Jack: I think we just knew less people before

Bus LVIII

Scott: My sister’s eighteen today

Louisa: I thought she was already your legal guardian?

Scott: Fake ID

Louisa: It’ll be nice when we can all go down the pub together

Jack: Oh, I won’t be drinking socially

Louisa: Why's that?

Jack: If I’m with good people, why do I need to drug myself? And if I’m with bad people, why aren’t I spending some quality time at home with the drink instead?

Bus LVII

Louisa: How’s the musical coming along?

Jack: Pretty well

Louisa: What’s the story?

Jack: It all starts off with this girl whose microwave breaks, and she’s despairing...when suddenly her oven starts singing to her. Telling her about all the exciting things you can do with an oven, and how microwaves are just for lazy people anyway.

Louisa: Elitist

Jack: I write what I know

Louisa: Wasn’t the musical meant to be more realistic this year? After ‘Moon Nuns’.

Bus LVI

Scott is wearing a black armband

Louisa: What’s up?

Jack: His microwave broke

Louisa: Oh dear. Can’t you get a new one?

Scott: Next week. When Em gets paid.

Louisa: Well until then, you're welcome to come use mine

Scott: Thanks, but I can’t cook with people watching

Louisa: At least you've still got the gas oven

Scott: Had it taken out after...well, you know

Jack: I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up

Scott: A grill?

Jack: Nope – a bendy straw!

Scott: So what?

Jack: You like straws, remember?

Scott: That was just talk. This is life.

Jack: Did I tell you I'm writing the musical now? They rejected Wallace's script.

Scott starts crying

Louisa: Scott, don't cry. It'll be okay.

Jack: Who knew a broken microwave could be so traumatic? Aren't they just meaningless objects of attachment?

Scott: Yeah, but they make life so much easier!

Louisa: My dad cried when our barbecue broke. We'd only used it twice in ten years.

Jack: Serious?

Louisa: To you, eating is just reverse-vomiting...but to some people, it's a way of life

Bus LV

Louisa: Let’s play a game

Scott: I’m all Snapped out

Louisa: Let’s play a little game called ‘I Wonder What Lizzie Is Doing’

Jack: I knew you were reading my private notebook! ‘Feeling the binding’ – worst excuse ever.

Scott: I bet Lizzie’s...fighting aliens

Jack: No, see, you haven’t read the rules. It has to be plausible. She could never be fighting aliens – teaching aliens the futility of war, maybe, but never fighting them.

Louisa: Can she be in bed with her hunky musician boyfriend who isn’t you?

Jack: Clearly you aren’t mature enough for this game

An old man admiring his blue-green orb

''That one had a good plot, but I never could get the characters right.''

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

Music Club XXXIX

Flinchy: How about we have a concert?

Bull: You going senile or something? We did that already.

Flinchy: No, I mean with us playing. Friends and family could come.

Harry: Our families are all dead. We don’t like to talk about it.

Bull: And none of us can play anything

Starchild: I can play guitar...

Justin: ...if the rest of us fill in half the notes from our imaginations

Starchild: It’s interactive

Flinchy: Don’t be so modest anyway, Bull. You won that prize for your tuba.

Bull: What’s a tuba?

Justin: He’s completely self-taught. Doesn’t even know his instrument’s name.

Music Club XXXVIII

Violetta: You want me gone?

Jenny: No, not at all. But we don’t want you to become institutionalised either. You need to retain contact with the outside world.

Violetta: I’m not ready

Jenny: We believe that you are

Violetta: So I get no choice?

Jenny: The decision is ultimately yours, but we would strongly recommend a visit home at this point in your treatment. If things get too much, you’ll always be welcome back here.

Violetta: But it was home that made me sick. Why does nobody understand?

Jenny: There were some problems, I know, but we’ve spoken to your parents and they promise to make things better this time

Violetta: They’d say anything! They don’t care.

Jenny: We can keep you alive here indefinitely, Vi, but what would be the point? You’ll only really live if you go out in the world and make it a better place for yourself.

Music Club XXXVII

Justin: You’re angry at the newspaper?

Harry: There was a cockroach. Crushed it with my fist.

Starchild (nervously): There are cockroaches down here?

Justin: No, just one. It was on the Lonely Hearts page.

Harry: Why does Flinchy have to leave his junk lying around anyway?

Dom: Couldn’t you have taken the cockroach outside or something? It wasn’t doing us any harm.

Justin: How come you’re here so early this week, Dom?

Dom: Flinchy’s getting his car repaired, so my mum gave me a lift. If you see any more cockroaches, take them outside. They’re misunderstood.

Bull: Do you have sex with cockroaches or something?

Dom: They’re just my favourite animal. I don’t like seeing them get hurt.

Harry: I’m that way with rats. I used to go down in the sewers and catch them as pets.

Bull: I don’t even know where to begin making fun of that. Does nobody here have a normal favourite animal? Like wolves, or sharks?

Justin: I like cats

Bull: Little bit sissy, but okay

Sunday, 1 August 2010

Music Club XXXVI

Flinchy: So what instrument do you play?

Harry: Huh?

Flinchy: Justin told me you boys play instruments together. I can’t wait to see Bull and his tuba.

Harry: Oh, I’m...maracas

Flinchy: Tuba and maracas? Must be an interesting sound.

Music Club XXXV

Jenny: Eat something, Vi

Violetta: I do eat

Jenny: Barely

Violetta: It’s just the opposite of taking a crap. It’s disgusting.

Jenny: You’ll die if you don’t eat

Violetta: Like I said, disgusting

Jenny: It’s disgusting to live?

Violetta: Out of fear, yeah. You people only eat cos you don’t want to suffer. Your bodies blackmail you. I’m in total command of mine.

Jenny: That’ll be why you can’t sleep at night? Why you need the radiators on in summer because you’ve lost all your body fat? Why you haven’t enough energy to walk across a room?

Music Club XXXIV

Justin: This is the best night of my life

Flinchy: He certainly knows how to pound those ivories

Starchild: I feel like a different person

Bull: A shitter person

Harry: Please tell me it’s over

Flinchy: Perhaps you’ll enjoy the second half more, Harry. And there may not have been any violence, but there was some blood.

Dom: That trumpet guy with the nose-bleed

Flinchy: A cautionary tale for us all

Music Club XXXIII

Flinchy: I was at the hospital this morning...

Bull: Nothing fatal, I hope

Flinchy: ...visiting Andrew, and he suggested we should take a club outing. Either that or he wanted a club sandwich. In any case, I think a club outing would be fun.

Dom: You want us to go clubbing?

Flinchy: No, I mean some sort of outing...as a club

Dom: You’ve lost me

Harry: I wanna go somewhere violent. A boxing match, or dog-fighting. Get the old blood pumping. You’d like to see some violence, wouldn’t you, Bull?

Starchild: A nostalgia trip

Bull: Go fuck a tree

Starchild: That’s the best you can manage? You’re not even gonna make me fuck a tree?

Flinchy: Moving away from...tree-fucking, I was thinking of something a little more musical. Perhaps a concert?

Harry: Great idea. Heavy metal or gangsta rap?

Thursday, 29 July 2010

Music Club XXXII

Jenny: Did other pupils notice your weight loss?

Violetta: A few. They started calling me fat.

Jenny: How did that make you feel?

Violetta: ...fat

Music Club XXXI

Starchild: Where’s Flinchy?

Bull: Couldn’t come. Grading papers. Well, let’s get started.

Harry: We’re now holding pretend meetings even when he’s not here?

Bull: Only texted ten minutes ago. I think he’s drunk actually. Awful spelling.

Starchild: Glad I’m not in his class

Harry: So we can all go home? I’m sick of this basement.

Bull: He’ll still want to see the minutes. Find out what he missed.

Music Club XXX

Starchild: Do you really need this many beers?

Bull: Of course I do. It’s a rite of passage.

Starchild: The shopkeeper’s looking at us funny. He’s so gonna ask for ID.

Bull: That’s why you’re here. Happy birthday, by the way.

Starchild: I don’t even like beer

Bull: What do you like, other than Little Miss Bony?

Starchild: Stop calling her that. You’ve never even met her.

Bull: I know her type

Starchild: People don’t have types. People are people.

Bull: People are animals. Predators and prey. I’m a predator, you’re prey.

Starchild: If you’re a predator, how come you haven’t starved by now?

Bull: Well, I don’t actually eat people. I just beat them up.

Starchild: Who’ve you beaten up lately?

Bull: I’ve beaten up loads of people

Starchild: Lately?

Bull: Ask me again in ten minutes

Starchild: I’m not scared of you, Bull. I’m scared of heights, I’m scared of creepy crawlies, I’m scared of my girlfriend topping herself...but I’m not scared of clowns.

Music Club XXIX

Justin: Hiya. Where’s Bull?

Harry: Went out for beers. He’s stockpiling them for his Eighteenth.

Justin: That’s months away

Harry: He was a scout. Likes to be prepared.

Justin: Bull, a scout? I didn’t know that.

Harry: There’s plenty you don’t know about him

Justin: What’s that mean?

Harry: Nothing. Forget it.

Justin: Why don’t you like me, Harry?

Harry: Who says I don’t?

Justin: You’ve made it pretty clear

Harry: Bull would’ve beaten up someone like you without hesitation...until you came along

Justin: Isn’t that a parallax?

Harry: You’ve corrupted him somehow. Made him weak.

Justin: He never beat you up

Harry: Yeah, he did. Lots of times.

Justin: And you’re still friends with him?

Harry: I never cried, I never told. I earned his friendship. You haven’t earned anything.

Justin: Bull’s a good person now. He’s left all that behind.

Harry: Of course he hasn’t. This is just a phase. You’ll see. I don’t know why he’s developed this blind spot with you, but sooner or later he’ll remember who he really is. And you’d better get out of the way when he does.

Music Club XXVIII

Jenny: Tell me about Mrs Finnegan

Violetta: She was my Maths teacher. I’m good at Maths.

Jenny: And she noticed you were losing weight?

Violetta: Yeah, she gave me these leaflets. Kept asking if I was alright.

Jenny: And you lied?

Violetta: I was alright 'til then. I was just me. Then suddenly I was the girl with the big-name problem...and people were writing leaflets about me...and I was special.

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Music Club XXVII

Flinchy: Who’s brought something this week?

Starchild: I’ve got this...

Bull: What the fuck? I’m not listening to that.

Starchild: I know it’s a little commercial, but...

Flinchy: I have to agree with Bull. That sort of music may be fine for drunken hen nights and little girls’ sleepovers, but it has no place in any self-respecting music club.

Justin: It’s children’s shagging music

Harry: Children shag?

Bull: It’s the audio equivalent of watching children shag, and should carry a similar penalty

Starchild: At least give it a chance...

Justin: Dude, it’s manufactured bullshit. The whole point of the music club is to expand our horizons...

Flinchy: ...challenge our expectations...

Justin: ...not narrow them.

Starchild: We have a mission statement now?

Justin: It’s implied. Sorry man, I know you listen to that mainstream pop stuff with Vi, and that’s fine, she probably needs cheering up...but it’s not welcome here. We can tell how shallow it is just by looking at the cover.

Music Club XXVI

Jenny: When did you first start skipping meals?

Violetta: Was nine, I think. At first it was just to escape the arguments. I’d say I wasn’t hungry and go hide upstairs. I could still hear them shouting though...

Jenny: Didn’t it hurt, to not eat?

Violetta: Yeah, but it was a pain I could control. The only pain I could control.

Music Club XXV

Flinchy: That was...interesting, Harry

Starchild: I feel dirty

Bull: Didn’t like to say anything, but you do need to shower more. I enjoyed the album. It was bracing.

Justin: Neck-bracing

Harry: It’s your speakers. They must be malfunctioning. Too much bass.

Bull: They’re new

Dom: Untested

Bull: What’s your view, Andrew? Think carefully before you answer.

Flinchy: I’m afraid Andrew’s lost his voice. Does anyone have a pen and paper?

Bull: Harry’s bound to have some. He’s indispensable like that.

Harry: I don’t

Bull: And why should he? One man can’t be expected to do everything. But can I just say, our beloved treasurer comes pretty damn close.

Justin (to Starchild): Is he trying to get into Harry’s pants or something?

Music Club XXIV

Harry: I don’t even like music

Bull: Neither do I, but controlling people is fun. And you like administration.

Harry: Do I?

Bull: It’s like refereeing, but on paper

Harry: Maybe I should just start refereeing again. There are other teams.

Bull: This is the only team you need. And we need you...Flinchy likes you the most. He respects you.

Harry: He thought I was a girl

Bull: Exactly...he probably wanted to bone you. What higher compliment could he give?

Harry: I don’t care whether Justin’s parents chuck him out for being a lazy git, and neither should you. What’s happened to you, man?

Bull: Nothing’s happened

Harry: You think I’m stupid?

Bull: Frankly, yes, but you must like some music. Bring it along on Friday.

Music Club XXIII

Jenny: Tell me about your boyfriend...Sean Chiles?

Violetta: He’s sweet

Jenny: How long have you been dating?

Violetta: Three years

Jenny: A long time for someone your age

Violetta: But a short time for real people?

Jenny: That’s not what I meant

Violetta: Isn’t it?

Jenny: I didn’t mean to trivialise your relationship. I know Sean’s very important to you. It was he who persuaded you to come here, where your parents failed?

Violetta: Failures fail

Jenny: That’s not true, Vi. Failures consistently fail.

Violetta: That’s my parents

Music Club XXII

Harry: What are we gonna do now?

Bull: I can’t imagine. I’ve tried every air freshener known to man. Or woman, not that she knows anything.

Harry: Huh?

Bull: The stench. The demonic stench that fucking Dan...

Harry: Dom

Bull: ...left behind after our little listening party. We may have to burn the house down.

Harry: But what are we gonna do about Flinchy?

Bull: Flinchy?

Harry: He e-mailed. Said he wants it to be his ‘club-name’.

Bull: I guess we’ll do whatever he wants. Otherwise Jimmy’ll be out on the street.

Harry: Why should we care?

Bull: It’s no fun beating up homeless people. Fish in a barrel.

Saturday, 24 July 2010

Music Club XXI

Mr Flinch: What a night this has been. You don’t meet many teenage boys who’d listen to Don Giovanni all the way through twice without so much as a toilet break.

Harry: We’re go-to guys

Mr Flinch: Can I become a member?

Bull: What?

Mr Flinch: I want to become a member of the club

Bull: Sorry, it’s for young people only

Justin: Not that you’re old!

Mr Flinch: If you’re willing to overlook my age, I’m sure I could overlook some of Justin’s recent...conduct

Bull: Why is everyone calling him Justin now?

Starchild: Wouldn’t it be unethical? Aren’t you meant to keep a professional distance from your students?

Flinchy: Oh, who cares?

Music Club XX

Mr Flinch: So this is the famous Music Club, eh? I like the posters.

Dom: They still have price stickers

Bull: Who’s this guy?

Justin: Dom. He’s in my music class.

Mr Flinch: Andrew wanted to come too, but he got his head trapped behind a radiator. I pray to God they’re able to cut him free before the heating timer comes on. So what are we listening to this week?

Starchild: Mozart. Don Giovanni.

Dom: That has a price sticker too

Bull: How about you take a seat in the corner, Dom? No, the far corner.

Music Club XIX

Justin: How’s Violetta?

Starchild: Doing well apparently. She’s gained a stone.

Bull: Soon she’ll be up to a child’s weight

Starchild: Hopefully

Bull: Don’t you get tired of having such a pathetic girlfriend?

Starchild: What’s pathetic about her?

Bull: Well, she’s not exactly an empowered woman, is she? Always crying and refusing to eat cos her parents were nasty to her or whatever.

Starchild: She’s always herself, good and bad. What’s more empowered than that?

Music Club XVIII

Harry: You want me to pretend I’m in a ‘music club’?

Bull: Yeah, for Jimmy. Or whatever you call him.

Harry: You’re supposed to be beating him up, not making him your best buddy

Bull: He’s not my best buddy. I’m just letting him get comfortable...then I’ll snap his neck.

Harry: Literally?

Bull: Yep

Harry: You promise?

Bull: I promise. But it won’t happen if you don’t play along for this music teacher. I need you to be Treasurer.

Harry: Treasurer of a club that doesn’t exist. This is a new low.

Bull: It’ll stop you getting bored. And you’ll be a go-to guy again.

Harry: People will go to me?

Bull: Sure. When they need...treasure.

Music Club XVII

Mr Flinch: Unless your composition’s in an invisible folder, get out and don’t come back

Justin: Please don’t chuck me out. I know I’ve been slacking on the deadlines, but I’ll catch up. Starting now.

Mr Flinch: It’s not just the deadlines, Justin. When you started with me, you were one of the most talented, enthusiastic musicians I’d ever taught. You’re still talented, but it’s a long time since I saw any enthusiasm.

Justin: I have enthusiasm. I have so much enthusiasm it hurts to sit down.

Mr Flinch: It’s too late. I’ve only kept you on this long cos I hoped you’d snap out of your...stupor.

Justin: There’s no stupor. I’ve just been...busy.

Mr Flinch: Yes, busy doing everything non-musical. You don’t even come to the music club anymore. You used to thrive there. Now Dom’s the best I have.

Justin: That’s cos...I have my own music club. We discuss albums and stuff.

Mr Flinch: Listening to pop songs with your mates isn’t exactly what I had in mind

Justin: Not just pop songs. All sorts...and we play too. Bull plays the tuba.

Mr Flinch: Bull?

Justin: He hosts the club...in his basement. It’s soundproofed. So that’s why I fell behind, but I’m all ready to catch up now.

Mr Flinch: Justin, stop lying to me. You’ve never mentioned this before.

Justin: If you don’t believe me, come to the club. I’ll show you.

Music Club XVI

Bull: So, your girlfriend’s at some anorexia camp?

Starchild: Yeah, she’ll be back soon. Once she’s healthy.

Bull: Unless she dies there. From not eating.

Starchild: True

Bull: You don’t care if your girlfriend dies?

Starchild: Of course I care, but she’d probably be glad if she did. I’ll still love her either way.

Bull: Oh...there isn't really a comeback for that

Music Club XV

Harry: Somebody say something. I’m dying here.

Justin: What’s your favourite cheese?

Harry: I like Brie

Bull: Wensleydale’s the best

Justin: Cheddar’s the only legitimate choice. Old reliable.

Starchild: No cheese is inherently better than another. They all have equal merit. It’s a matter of personal taste.

Bull: Let’s never discuss cheese again

Music Club XIV

Starchild: How was the move?

Justin: It was okay...

Starchild: Really?

Justin: ...once I did some industrial-scale repressing

Starchild: You’re still attending college, right?

Justin: Define ‘attending’

Starchild: Dude, you need to get in those music rooms and make some new tunes

Justin: Dunno how to work the system anymore. They got a new one when I was ill.

Starchild: Can’t you ask?

Justin: I did, but they all assumed I was joking...and I was so pleased about people laughing at my joke that I didn’t ask again. Since then I’ve been pressing random buttons and everyone thinks it's ‘experimental’.

Starchild: You’ve got a talent, man...don’t throw it away. What about those new friends you mentioned? They musical?

Justin: Not really friends. We just sit in Bull’s basement and wait for death. Hope it comes soon.

Music Club XIII

Slick: Hey, Bull! How come you’re hanging with nerds now?

Bull: I’m undercover. Working ‘em from the inside.

Slick: Yeah, whatever

Bull: You want me to kick your fucking face in?

Slick: Whoa, man, whoa. Chill. Just kidding – I knew Raging Bull’d never go over to the dark side.

Bull: Damn right

Slick: Hey, can I get a cut?

Bull: Sure. I’ll let you know when it’s time to start beating on ‘em.

Slick: Cool. What’s that you got there? Strawberry ice cream?

Bull: Yeah...I’m gonna pour it down someone’s pants

Music Club XII

Bull: So what kinda music you into?

Justin: Lots of stuff. Indie, Folk, Jazz, Metal.

Bull: Same. Especially the love songs.

Justin (scornful): Love songs?

Bull: Love songs? Hate ‘em. You want some more coffee?

Justin: No, thanks. Got any ice cream?

Music Club XI

Bull: How’s the post-refereeing life?

Harry: It’s boring. I alphabetized all my DVDs last night, and then I reordered them by theme this morning. Beat up Justin today, please? That’d make me feel better.

Bull: Who’s Justin?

Harry: ...it’s my name for Jimmy

Bull: Odd choice. I’m working up to it – gonna stick to subtle psychological torture in the early months.

Harry: Months?

Bull: Weeks. Maybe days. But you see, I need to build up trust. You can never really hurt someone, not deep down, unless they love you first.

Harry: Love you?

Bull: Fake-love

Harry: Still...

Bull: Manly, platonic fake-love

Music Club IX

Justin: I’ve got this friend from Green Oaks. Would it be okay if he hung with us?

Bull: Sure. What’s his name?

Justin: Does it matter?

Bull: I like to judge people by their names

Justin: Well, he calls himself...Starchild

Bull: Starchild? What the hell kinda name is that?

Justin: Be nice. He’s really down about his girlfriend. She’s gone away to this camp.

Bull: Orgy camp?

Justin: No. They’re helping her with her eating problems.

Bull: Fatty camp?

Justin: Stop it. Violetta’s a good person. She just has a few...issues.

Bull: Violetta and Starchild? They sound like a burlesque cabaret.

Music Club X

Mr Flinch: Lovely playing, Dom and Andrew...I hope you’ll do that again at the music club. And whose composition is next? Ah, Justin, what have you got for us?

Justin: You’re listening to it right now. It’s abstract.

Mr Flinch: If you don’t bring it next week...

Justin: Sshh, you’re talking over my composition

Mr Flinch: ...don’t bother coming at all

Music Club VIII

Bull: How was your game?

Harry: Never mention the word ‘football’ to me again

Bull: Okay. Am I allowed to use them separately? ‘Foot’ and ‘ball’? And what about words that sound like them? You could mishear.

Harry: Thanks, Bull. You’re officially the worst friend ever.

Bull: I’m not your friend. Anyway, you say this stuff every week. You’ll go back.

Harry: Not this time. My refereeing days are over. They sacked me. Tore up my red and yellow paint-charts, and gave my whistle to a dog.

Music Club VII

Bull: Do you think life’ll get any better when we’re older?

Justin: I think it’ll keep getting worse and worse, but then one day we’ll wake up and it’ll all be better

Bull: When the robots take over?

Justin: Not exactly

Bull: There must be another way. I’ve had loads of mates and gangs and stuff, and I’ve always just ditched ‘em when they got boring. That’s my life-plan.

Music Club VI

Mr Flinch: I hope we’ll be hearing your composition today, Justin

Justin: I’m still working on it

Mr Flinch: It was due a week ago

Justin: Perfection knows no deadlines

Mr Flinch: Your workbook’s empty

Justin: I’ve planned it in my head though. I’ve even been dreaming about it.

Mr Flinch: Did your dreams include the bit where I chuck you out of my class?

Justin: Yes, but it was cos I’d turned into an elephant and trampled Andrew’s head into the carpet. Think it was one of those wish-fulfilment dreams.

Mr Flinch: Justin, I’ve been teaching music for nineteen years. I’ve seen a lot of kids who thought they knew it all, that they couldn’t learn anything from me. Today they’re hauling concrete and packing groceries.

Justin: And who doesn’t appreciate a multi-tasker?

Music Club V

Bull: Harry, meet Jimmy

Justin: Justin

Bull: That’s right, he lived in Green Oaks before – he still does most of his college classes there though. Can I take your coat?

Justin: Thanks

Bull: I like to keep it informal in the basement. Also, you won’t feel the benefit when you leave otherwise.

Justin: You’re worried about me getting cold?

Bull (defensively): Only cos it’ll make your skin numb...and then you’ll feel less pain when I pound on you

Justin: How thoughtful

Music Club IV

Starchild: I’m gonna miss you so much

Violetta: I’ll think about you every night

Starchild: You’ll write?

Violetta: If I can find a pen, yeah

Music Club III

Harry: So he just started telling you his weaknesses? Voluntarily?

Bull: I’ve been waiting my whole life for a victim this pathetic, and I didn’t even have to look for him. I need this guy to become part of my daily routine.

Harry: It’s like when I made that bottle rocket last year, and I spent weeks searching for the right tin-foil. He’s your perfect foil.

Bull: Maybe he just hasn’t heard about my right hook yet

Harry: Maybe he did, but he has superpowers...so he isn’t worried

Bull: Remember when you used to be the go-to guy for advice?

Music Club II

Justin: You ever feel like just jumping in front of a truck or something?

Bull: Nope, but can I be the driver?

Justin: I’m so lonely. Why does it have to be this way? What’s wrong with me? I mean, I know I’m not the smartest guy in town...

Bull: ...and your face looks like it already met that truck...

Justin: ...but I’m a good person. I smile at strangers. I’m kind to animals...and children, until they reach that awkward street-corner phase. Plus, I have good hygiene. Even dental. So why does nobody like me?

Bull: I can’t imagine. Will you pass me that glue now, Jimmy?

Music Club I

Violetta: I love you

Starchild: I love you more

Violetta: Not possible

Starchild: Let’s call it even

They kiss

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

The Philosopher-Clown

'Is there anything sadder than a joke?'

Monday, 17 May 2010

Bus LIV

Louisa: Just entered the funeral raffle

Jack: There’s a raffle?

Louisa: Yeah, for tickets. The marching band is gonna play and everything.

Jack: I thought Mr Gogol hated the marching band. Didn’t he try and retract their funding?

Louisa: I doubt funerals were really his scene either, so what’s your problem?

Bus LIII

Louisa: I can't believe Mr Gogol died

Scott: Who's Mr Gogol?

Louisa: Our headteacher!

Scott: The guy who dresses as a bat?

Louisa: I don't think that's a real person, Scott

Saturday, 15 May 2010

Bus LII

Jack: God, I hate school uniforms. Wish we had Mufti every day.

Louisa: Only yesterday you said how much you hate Mufti Days!

Jack: Yeah, I hate them cos they’re the exception. Feeling comfortable shouldn’t be some special end-of-term treat.

Louisa: I think they’re best as an occasional thing. Uniform helps the poor kids hide.

Jack: You’re right. Out of sight, out of mind. That works for me.

Bus LI

Louisa: Skiver

Jack: You know my policy on Mufti Days. Why should I have to pay a pound for the privilege of wearing my own clothes?

Louisa: Because it goes to charity?

Jack: Forced donations are worse than no donations at all. It’s dirty money.

Louisa: I’m sure the starving orphans share that sentiment

Saturday, 1 May 2010

Bus L

Louisa: New phone?

Jack: Yep

Louisa: Text me your number

Jack: Will do. Not yet though.

Louisa: Why’s that?

Jack: I want a few days to enjoy my phone before people start contacting me and ruin it

Bus XLIX

Louisa is reading a magazine

Louisa: Wanna come see Fruit with me?

Jack: I've got some at home, thanks

Louisa: They're a girl group, fool. Says here they're touring.

Jack: You know my stance on commercial music

Louisa: How about you, Scott?

Scott: I'm there!

Jack: Thought you only listened to bluegrass?

Scott: I'm branching out

Sunday, 25 April 2010

Famous Last Words

It was the most sensational case in all legal history: a ghost testifying against their own murderer.

Scientists had spent years developing the technique, fighting to ensure their project didn't outlast its funding. Psychics and religious leaders were consulted as to how spirits could best be contacted. Eyewitness testimony of spectral sightings was methodically collected from every corner of the globe. Researchers spent weeks holed up in supposedly haunted castles, attempting to interview their dead ancestors.

Although well-intentioned, the study at first tended to attract money-hungry quacks rather than respectable professionals, since so few amongst the latter community were willing to be associated with what they considered silly folklore. Even those few that could be recruited had a high resignation rate, frightened by the often-disturbing nature of their work.

It was only with the arrival of Dr Richard James that success began. Well-known for a string of popular-science bestsellers, James was utterly devoted to the project and used his political links to successfully lobby for greater money and manpower. Breakthroughs quickly followed, which I cannot discuss here in any great detail for legal reasons: suffice to say it was soon understood that there is no means by which ghosts can be forced to appear before human eyes, but those that do of their own free will can, with the right technology, be indefinitely trapped in such a way as to allow full visibility and audibility.

While that in itself was a near-miracle of innovation, further problems presented themselves. Ghosts were difficult to locate, and when found frequently spoke incomprehensible languages or could no longer remember how to speak at all. Others were so ill-humoured and even violent that any attempts at conversation had to be abandoned. To exacerbate matters, often those that seemed most amiable were deceitful attention-seekers, a tendency best illustrated by the incident in which three separately captured spirits all simultaneously claimed to be the final residue of Alexander the Great.

Nevertheless the project proceeded and its findings were eventually made public. Far from the rapturous praise they had expected, however, the scientists involved were the target of much criticism. Colleagues working in other fields were often resentful that one study should attract so much media attention while their own work went unrecognised. Public outcry at the team's perceived mistreatment of phantoms led to a number of new laws which required full, informed consent and thus greatly reduced the number of potential test subjects. Worst of all, the country's newest government was less willing than its predecessor to fund a venture which, while interesting, had little practical merit.

In response to these strains, Dr James controversially obtained finance from private sources by sharing the team’s results with several commercial enterprises that hoped to profitably market the ability to converse with one’s dearly departed friends and family.

Since it had enjoyed so much public funding, the new technology was put to work in the public interest. The police were especially interested in its possibilities.

It was one morning in December that a pair of junior researchers encountered the study's first known murder victim. The relevant authorities were called and confirmed that she both resembled and knew the extensive biographical details of one Pip Grass, strangled to death by an unknown assailant eighteen years previously. Except the assailant’s identity was no longer unknown, since she identified her uncle Rodney Aft as the killer.

The case came to trial and Mr Aft was found guilty once the jury had been satisfactorily assured that a phantom’s testimony could be trusted. Yet it was not the mere fact of a ghost giving evidence which ultimately made this case most notable. Rather it was Miss Grass’s closing remarks, which expressed her unexpected wish that Mr Aft should be acquitted despite his clear guilt.

‘You see, I’m glad he killed me. Obviously I was upset about it at the time, and it was certainly painful, but I’ve enjoyed death much more than life. Now the living have established a reliable means of communication with the dead, the coming years will inevitably bring a new understanding of death – a new understanding that it may, at least in certain cases, be preferable to life.’