They were doing some of the plays for “365 Plays / 365 Days” last night. If you don’t know what that is, then you aren’t one of the cool kids. Five of the slots were pre-scheduled, but two were kept open for last minute signups. I decided to sign up for first slot. So, I was given a one page play. At first, I had rather intended to recruit folks from the crowd to assist me with the play, but I ultimately decided against doing so. You see, some of the guys for the pre-scheduled slots had brought costumes and set pieces and whatnot. So, I realised that even with several random audience members, I would be hard pressed to compete. My inspiration was to go in the exact opposite direction. Rather than trying to compete with costumes and set pieces, I would try to do my play as minimally as possible. The most minimal version of the production I could imagine was just me, in the dark. In the style of a radio play. I borrowed a flashlight so that I could read my lines in the dark, explained to the lighting guy that I needed it completely dark, and performed my play while hiding behind a staircase so that most of the audience couldn’t see the flashlight.

There were only two speaking characters, plus my decision to add a narrator to introduce the radio play and read the stage directions, and a fourth voice for the horrible screaming coming from “off stage.” So, with only four voices, I apparently didn’t have too much trouble keeping them apart. People seemed to get it, which was nice. Anyhow, It has forcibly convinced me that Atom Smith might just work if I bother to write it. Yargh.

My partner initially wanted to do the scene as a one word story. This was logical enough, trying to demonstrate knowledge on scene game structures, but I knew  that Madcap tends to focus on zany character work more than trying to impress folks with knowledge of structures, so I told him we should just do a regular scene.  When I saw that they were doing changes to the scene in front of us, I was thankful that he didn’t argue with me, because it would have been impossible with one word story.  So, I told him we should be a logger and a hippy environmentalist trying to save the forest.  This seemedlike the most obvious way to have distinct characters and conflict in a tree scene.  He was the logger and I was the hippy who showed up late and chained myself to a tree that had already been cut down.  He chopped off my foot.  My foot being chopped off was an act which I deemed “uncool, man.”

Since the one scene was all they saw, they have no idea whether the idea was mine or my partner’s.  Even assuming they liked it, I’m not sure how exactly they plan on picking who they like best.  I shouted loudest during the scene, when my foot was cut off, so I guess my zaniness level was higher than my partner’s.  I suppose that would be the prime differentiating factor.  Of course, I have no particular reason to suppose that they liked our scene best, as I only saw the one other scene.  Apparently, I’ll know by Tuesday, which means I’ll probably blog by Wednesday, if you want to know how it went.  Rick was there.  Rick was also at the Mouth Off audition I went to.  If arbitrary symbolism has any merit, then I guess I’ll be likely to beat out Rick again, and he is my lucky angel or something.  It also means he’ll probably be inspired to kill me.

After the audition was done, I went to the avenue theater, because the taping for Radio Avenue was happening.  Apparently, it broadcasts on Monday.  I read a few lines from a movie for a “stump the listeners” movie quotes quiz game.  I have officially made it a month since I stepped away from my day job.  I guess going from having no idea what to do, to being on local radio is acceptable progress for a month.