Minor Spillage

Have you seen the time? No. Okay. Fine. Do you think, I dunno, maybeeee… you should leave? Is the thought of you going so hard to conceive? Look, I love fun, fun’s dead great. Even then, perhaps you should have stopped at quarter to 8. Oh. Here we go. Now you’re getting annoyed. I’m a human being. Don’t shout, pleaseeeee. I’m not a droid! Your eyes have gone funny, come on. It’s time to go home. Aggggghhhhhhhh… but you’re just not gonna leave me alone! Bed. Sleep. Time to rest. Right now, that really, really would be the best. I’m stuck here now, waiting for you. Just because you can’t work the lock on the loo. Do people think? Show any concern? Would they rather just watch my mind, heart, soul, burn? I’m a people person. Yeah. I always say that. But looking at you… yeah, that’s all crap. Ryan Croughan is one of the unfortunate souls who keeps the Minor Spillage ship sailing. Sailing? Probably better to say paddling. As well as producing, he finds time to present and provide voiceovers...

I was in London today, and I was walking down the street. A flowing, silk coat passed me by. As cream, as cream could ever be. If cream itself knew how cream that cream was, it would sue that silk coat on impersonation charges. But cream itself knew nothing of such charges, or flowing, or silk. Cream was the colour not of coats, of scarves, or suits, the sort of cream you’d take home to meet your parents. If a cream could meet parents, or, anyone. Cream was on the duvet. A rustic duvet? No. A well-loved duvet? No. A malted, mottled, cream duvet, sheathed around a man, and it was, sheathed, sat on the corner of said street. The cream on the duvet was dying. It was green with moss. It was orange with food. It was yellow with sick. And despite this, the cream coat still flowed by. It didn’t notice the green, or the orange, or the yellow. It just carried on by. I think it was being worn by someone. A woman, I think. I couldn’t tell. They didn’t stop by long enough to be seen. Ryan Croughan...

In every episode of ‘Off Script’, Ben and Lloyd are faced with a tough, but real, acting challenge… To take a script, with absolutely ZERO preparation, and perform it to the best of their abilities. No peeking, no hints, no ideas - just straight into the scene, and being left to (hopefully) swim rather than sink thanks to their considerable talents! In the third episode of the series, the boys faced their most dramatic script yet; a thoughtful, emotional and powerful piece by James Kersey. Presented here for your reading pleasure, is the script of “The Jetty”… exactly as the Off Scripters were handed it… EXT. JETTY - EVENING The waves crash along the shore, shaking a small boat tied to a wooden jetty. ROWAN stands looking out on the endless sea, eyes red raw. Sam rushes down the hillside towards the jetty. SAM Rowan! Rowan thank god! Oh thank god! The whole town's looking for you. ROWAN Are they? SAM They're all over the fields, even the young lads are out there. An uncomfortab...