Three Doctors

Oh, come and sit down over here and tell me all about your problems and your name.

I’m poor, I’m hungry, I’m soaking wet, I’m Jim Smoggins and I have a big pain up my backside.

And I thought there was going to be something more seriously wrong with you than that, what with the way you were dragging yourself in here, and with all the moaning.

Oh . . . I feel much better now. Must be the sympathy and your bedside manner that did the trick. I could have got that from my computer, but the bloody mouse doesn’t work.

Did you turn your mouse on?

No. It was too tired after going around its treadmill all day.

Really Mr Smoggins I have no time for jokes today. The doctors are flat out busy

What sort of doctors are they then?

We have three doctors on today. I call them the little doctor, the medium doctor, and the big doctor.

Why is that?

Well, firstly the wee doctor is the urologist. Secondly, the medium doctor is the psychic psychologist. Thirdly, the big doctor is the GP who will look at your bottom – all day if needs be. He needs the money.

I’ll take de turd doctor then. He sounds like what I need.

Right then, get yourself behind that screen and take your trousers off. Then get up on the bed and lie down on your stomach.

Blimey, how much is this going to cost? I wanted to see the doctor.

Mr Smoggins is that you at the other end of this bottom?

Yes, it is and I’m in a lot of pain.

I’m Doctor Robert See, a GP who specialises in all the common and general diseases and accidents that may happen at home or work. I hear that you are a bit of a joker, yes?

Robert See? You do know that becomes ‘Arsey’ in a name list don’t you?

Yes Mr Smoggins. All through my life I have been told this. Although as a doctor, I can now get my own back on smart quips like that.

Well, I was only saying, you know. So, can you fix my bum?

That all depends on what went in there and from which way did it enter. I mean waste and disease may exist from within . . . however, inserting of the foreign articles into the bottom may also be a clue.

Well yes, you’re right doctor and it may perhaps be a good time to tell you quietly that I sat on a toy giraffe whilst I was entertaining guests at my house.

Ah yes, entertaining with such a giraffe would cause much pain, I’m sure. And was it a motorised giraffe or just the usual giraffe?

Now look here doctor, I’m not one of those people who engage in that sort of activity. I just sat down on the toy giraffe which was wedged in between two settee cushions next to our cat.

The doctor thinks about the situation at hand.

Maybe I should send you for a cat scan first . . . just in case it was the cat that you sat on. Now that would truly be a CAT-ARSE-TROPHY.

THE END

Example of a Comedy Script

Cool Cat” – (c) Stefan Nicholson 2015 Tasmania

OPENING SCENE:

(James is playing “Clair de Lune” on piano which has a bust of Debussy on top – His cat is sitting next to the bust)

Eric who is not very sharp, enters the room and looks unaware of his environment and has a blank look.

Eric

Wow man . . . who wrote that cool music? . . . It’s all floaty and surreal man.

James

(Points to the composer’s bust on piano, next to the cat)

Debussy. Yeah it sounds like some random falling of leaves on a winter’s night.

Eric

(looking at the cat which stretches out its paws)

Are you messing with me man. Is that the dude?

James

No kidding man . . . Claude Debussy. A French composer, who wrote it one night while looking at the moon.

Eric

(looking at the cat and talking slowly)

Well done Claude, that is a very nice piece of music . . . if you understand English man.

James

Good grief Eric . . . I was pointing at the composer’s bust.

Eric

Wow, sorry man for missing the clue.  So sorry Claudette, for making a huge mistake with the boobs and all.

(James crashes his head into the keyboard and bangs his hands up and down on the keys)

Eric

Wow man . . . is that another one of the pussy’s compositions?

James

Are you planning to have children in the future Eric . . . because they would probably smother you while you were sleeping, around the age of three when they would surely realise that cats DO NOT compose music!

Eric

But what about . . . ?

James

Don’t you ever mention “Cats” the musical in front of my cat . . . you may give it grandiose ideas.

THE END