atomic_fungus (atomic_fungus) wrote,

#3236: The Gas We Pass

I got a call from one of the guys in my Bible study group. He's head of the Hospitality Committee at church, and he's the guy who's in charge of things like tomorrow night's pot luck dinner.

The dinner is accompanied by the "Not-So-Talented Talent Show", where folks get up and do things meant to amuse and entertain. Several weeks ago he asked me if I'd consider doing a dramatic reading.

'Way back in the first unit I was present for, in July or August, we had a little reading to do and I asked to read the part of the pharisee--and I used my version of John Schuck's "Klingon ambassador" voice (from Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home) and greatly amused everyone in the group. It's just the perfect voice for an arrogant part, and the instant I saw the script I knew that was what I wanted to do.

But I couldn't think of anything to read for this deal, and wasn't really sure I wanted to do it at all. Nah, I'll just bring a bucket of apple crisp and eat--

He called me this afternoon with a proposition: he and I would team up. I'd read and he'd provide sound effects and such.

And this is the source from which I'd read.

So I'll be reading--in the upper-crustiest, hoity-toityest voice I can manage--and he'll be providing sound effects and holding up images from the book while I read.

This ought to be a scream.

The only problem is, of course, the disdain in which I hold the word "fart"--but that'll just help this, because I intend to play it like I'm dismayed that I have to read this aloud in front of people.

Here's what I imagined starting with: "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This evening, Mr. [chairman] and I are presenting to you a dramatic reading. I must preface this performance by mentioning that Mr.[chairman] contacted me just last night with this idea; I therefore beg your indulgence as we haven't had time to rehearse our reading of..."

And there, I actually look at the book I've only just picked up (or had handed to me) and do my damnedest to radiate dismay; and then, with all the disdain I can pretend to hide, I say bleakly, "The Gas We Pass: The Story of..." A sigh, and then, "The Story of...Farts."

It really ought to be funny.

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