Saturday, 27 March 2010

Journal of Cannonby: Now I Know How Joan of Ark Felt

The title of this one has less relevance to the script than they usually do. I was listening to The Smiths as I was struggling for a title, because the story in this one was particularly all over the place, so no one thing could sum it all up. So I just wrote the lyric in. It makes about as much sense as the actual story.

The script was read/played by:

Narrator: Me
Cannonby: Dev Vhardi
Bevan: Me
Boris: Dafydd Evans
ZX Ilfracombe: Me
Doktor: Dev Vhardi
Nurse: Me
Vino: Dev Vhardi
Crimson Maude: Dafydd Evans
Hazel: Me

*****

Journal: The Remarkable Doings of Cannonby

Now I know how Joan of Ark felt


Narrator

Well, what do you want me to say? Nothing has really happened for the last month so it seems fairly unnecessary to do a recap, but I suppose I'd better had. Teal and Bludonna have been captured by the cannibalistic Priests of Vinehaven, and almost every other major character is amassed somewhere, still fairly lost within the dense forestry outside the hidden walls of the citadel. Doktor Li Faiseas and his able assistant Uh Nurse are tending to the weakened crew; Cannonby, Bevan and Boris. Of course there're limits to how far they can help ZX Ilfracombe, as the medics specialise in human biology, and are poorly equipped to tamper with the industrial exoskeleton that sheathes the human bits of ZX.


Boris: I am really concerned about the cyborg, he's fizzing and popping a bit. It was so long ago that I can't remember whether he was in the lagoon or not, but if he was that water couldn't have been good for him.


Cnby: (banging as though slapping ZX on the back) Nonsense! ZX is a sturdy piece of equipment! He's built like a behemoth! In the highlands where he was constructed they called him the Iron Giant. And with the added assistance of the spirit of Ivan Oleinme he is even capable of withstanding Ragnarok!


Bevan: I see you are staying true to last weeks promise of more Final Fantasy references.


Cnby: Tonberry King!


Boris: Jumbo Cactuar!


Bevan: Geezard!


Cnby: Wendigo!


Boris:


Bevan: Oh, bin bags.


Doktor: The desire to hit you is very tempting / Though I can understand what you are attempting / You are trying to really nail the Final Fantasy niche / but random references aren't funny, capiche?


Bevan: Well, we'll never know unless we try…


Boris: And it works for Family Guy.


Nurse: Well, it's causing our metallic patient to get quite stressed.


Doktor: And he's already in quite a mess / Better to just give it a rest.


Boris: I agree.


Bevan: Yes.


Boris: We have to plan how to rescue Bludonna and the freak.


Cnby: He is disgusting. I say leave them, they just get in the way and clog the script up with their needless dialogue.


Bevan: Oh Captain, what an awful thing to say. Bludonna and Teal get a tiny percentage of the dialogue, especially when compared to some of the lengthy diatribes you get.


Cnby: Well that's a load of hogwash! The characters who have the largest percentage of dialogue are probably you and Boris, or perhaps its been skewed in recent weeks by the ridiculously epic poems that the Doktor and Nurse seem to be performing on a weekly basis now. No, don't argue Bevan! And even if they don't actually say much, the plotlines seem to focus extensively on Bludonna and Teal. It's ridiculous, this story is called CANNONBY, that's me! I am the Captain, how have I become marginalised in my own tale!?


Bevan: Well maybe we'd trust you with these lengthier pieces more often if we felt we could trust you to read them out properly.


Cnby: It's hardly my fault that I am played by a steady stream of varying guests every week. None of them get the experience that is needed to read the script successfully. The production of this show is shambolic, and I refuse to be held responsible for the messing of my own lines.


Boris: You should, you are to blame.


Cnby: Which wristwatches are swiss wristwatches?


Bevan: Exactly.


Doktor: Oh come on you lot, please! / You think fixing this robot is easy?


Nurse: Because it's not.


Doktor: We don't do this a lot. Now quiet down while we set to our work.


Nurse: You burkes.


Cnby: So I'm guessing we have to save those idiots then.


Bevan: Yes, definitely.


Boris: But how?


Bevan: Well didn't the good Doktor say last week that he had once been one of the priests? Surely he'll know some hidden way into the….


Cnby: (interrupting loudly) I say we burst in through the main gate and cause hell!


Bevan: Um, I'd really rather not.


Boris: No, that sounds stupid.


Cnby: Nonsense! We've got ZX Ilfracombe with an Ivan power-up, what could possibly go wrong? He has a blunderbuss for a groin!


Nurse: You should reconsider that tactic before it is too late.


Doktor: This ZX is in no fit state, to be fighting.


Bevan: They're right Captain.


Cnby: Ha! To nonsense with you, ZX, come on, up you get. We're going to kick some priestly buttocks.


ZX: Priest. Buttock.


Cnby: See, he's fine. Onward!


Bevan: No Captain, come back.


Boris: He is such an idiothole.


Doktor: He is gung-ho to the point of perversion / But his assault will at least cause a diversion / Let those three go on their merry way / We'll sneak in and save the day.


Nurse: Through the old passageway?


Doktor: That would seem the more sensible way.


Boris: Hip-hip-hooray.


Narrator

But are these flippant celebrations too early, just what does await our heroes inside the insides of the Haven of Vines?


Vino: (Shouting) Hazel! Take the prisoners to the dungeon, hand them over to Crimson Maude.


Hazel: Yes, Miss Mellencamp.


Vino: What an ugly twosome they are. A seal-headed freak and a hideous madwoman. They taint our beautific citadel with their festering presence.


Hazel: Yes, Miss Mellencamp.


Vino: This citadel that I, Mellencamp Vino, have slaved over for many years to beautify. It's not easy being the Head Priest of Vinehaven, Hazel, not easy at all. But I love beauty, and I live to beautify.


Hazel: Yes, Miss Mellencamp.


Maude: A lovely piece of exposition from you there Head Priest Vino.


Vino: Thank you Crimson Maude; head of torture and wine fermenting. What brings you from your hallowed dungeon?


Maude: I got sick waiting for the new batch of grapes you've got for me. Hoo-hoo-hargh! What beautifuls grapes we've got ourselves ere! A grizzled little lady and a mans with an oct-ur-narwahol for a head! Wonderful wonderful! Should get us some gnarly wines from these-uns!


Vino: Splendiferous! Hazel, set the goblets, tonight we drink deeply of the blood of fools!


Hazel: Yes, Miss Mellencamp.


Vino, Hazel and Maude all laugh manically.


Narrator

Skies above! What nefarious plans the clearly evil trio have upon Teal and Bludonna. Mellencamp Vino, Crimson Maude and Hazel Sick are clearly experienced in the process of abduction and wineification. I am appalled. Cannibalism is still cannibalism even if you are using goblets instead of cans. Gobletbalism. Will the efforts of Cannonby, Carmarthen Bevan and ZX be in vain? Can the sneaking tactic of Li Faiseas, Boris and Uh Nurse succeed? Will we ever hear Teal's plaintive bark again? Return to us on the flipside, and we'll discover the answers together, as we follow these tales of Cannonby!


*****


Didn't think I'd manage this weekend's Cannonby. It has been a slog to translate and no mistake. Skies above!


If you appreciate the effort, let us know:


acrecomedy@gmail.com or @adamgilder for tweeting business.


Fanks like.

Friday, 19 March 2010

Journal of Cannonby: Final Fantasy IVth Wall

I wanted to do a special effort for my 100th blog but no, I forgot and instead here's last week's Cannonby.

It is perhaps fitting that it is shambolic. Apparently shambolic isn't a word. Stupid google.

The script was read/played by:

Narrator: Me
Boris: Dafydd Evans
Bevan: Me
Cannonby: Kevin Hass
Doktor: Kevin Hass
Nurse: Me.
Spider: Kevin Hass

*****

Journal: The Remarkable Doings of Cannonby

Final Fantasy IVth Wall


Narrator

Cannonby, Bevan, Boris and a partially broken ZX Ilfracombe are still combing the surrounding area for signs of Teal and Bludonna. Although ZX is still Ilfracombing. And the Smiths sang still ill, between backcombing. Will they find them this week, or will I just get bogged down in silly wordplay? You'll have to watch the results show to find out.


BORIS: There they are!


BEVAN: Really? How fortuitous.


BORIS: Actually, on second glance I can see that it isn't them.


BEVAN: Oh bin bags, I suppose it would really be too early in the episode to actually find them, especially considering no one really knows where the story is going yet.


BORIS: Well, considering that the script is now fully written and in the hands of those Welsh blokes in rhonddaradio then clearly we NOW know what is going to happen, because the script is finished.


BEVAN: Yes, but I mean that NOW as this script is being written we don't yet know what the story is going to be.


BORIS: And what if this script is never finished, what if the person who is writing it just stops writing now?


(long pause)


BEVAN: Yes well that's not going to happen is it. Obviously it is finished otherwise they wouldn't have started acting it out.


BORIS: How can you be sure!? Look, I am going to look further down the page and see whether there is a full episode or whether it just cuts of sharply.


BEVAN: Boris, you can't do that! Even given the added imaginary freedom of the radio medium the hypothetical situation you are suggesting is completely unworkable, come back.


BORIS: Right, apparently Teal and Bludonna get captured by the Priests of Vinehaven.


BEVAN: Oh for heaven's sake, we aren't even mean't to be aware of the Priests of Vinehaven yet.


BORIS: Don't worry about it, Doktor Li Faiseas and Uh Nurse are going to fill us in about them later on.


BEVAN: How is that even possible? They won't ever find us in this dense jungle.


BORIS: Yeah they will, the Narrator will jump in any minute now when the script editor realises that the characters have taken the script down a fourth-wall exploding and fairly self-indulgent tangent -


BEVAN: (interrupting) Again.


BORIS: And he'll sort it all out. It also becomes apparent that the scripteditor is annoyed that the writer has only been using you and me to talk, when Cannonby is mean't to be right next to us, and if we're all being honest we know that Cannonby wouldn't stand silently by while such unfettered meta-analysis is flying around.


BEVAN: That's very true, the Captain does love his unfettered meta-analysis, especially when it unfolds play-by-play, as it's happening.


CNBY: Very true, Bevan, I absolutely adore unfettered meta-analysis.


BORIS: (excitedly) I just read in the script that there'll be some more poetry later on!


Narrator

Oh god, this is as poor an excuse for a script as we've ever had for Cannonby so far. I suppose at the very least it sounds as if it's being clever, which is one of the ways to excuse the fact that it certainly isn't funny. Hopefully there'll be something poignant later on as well, that also distracts very well. I'll have to have the characters fitted with a self-awareness alarm so I can put a stamp to these tangents as they happen. Luckily, at that very moment Doktor Li Faiseas and his trusty Uh Nurse burst into the clearing. Meaning that they walk out of the undergrowth, not that they enter the clearing and then burst. Although that would provide some gore, which the story has been missing of late.


DOKTOR: Aha! Just the folks for which I was searching / Captain, clubber, cyborg, urchin.


BEVAN: I do not look like an urchin.


DOKTOR: Hush man, we've no time to squabble / We've come to the forest from where the ground is cobbled.


BORIS: Digh-dunniaets, yeah, we met you there.


BEVAN: Indeed we did, although we never met Uh Nurse. But since he was added into the story with a minimum of fuss we'll just behave like we did meet him.


BORIS: Well of course you didn't meet him, you had to stay outside of the clinic with the Captain because you were both causing a ruckus and punning.


CNBY: (laughing) Yes, yes! We do that don't we?


BORIS: Uh Nurse was busy inside the clinic, treating Bludonna.


BEVAN: Well that's conveniently cleared that up. Good job everyone.


Spider Narrator

Oho, everyone celebrates with a slap on the back and smiling.


NURSE: Argh! We're all celebrating like hubristic cretins / There are things we must be getting on with.


DOKTOR: True! We have come to warn you of the vilest priests / Who within Vinehaven stow their seats / Who brew their wine with the aid of manmeat.


CNBY: What in the name of Snow's cretinously mawkish dialogue are you talking about?


BEVAN: Yes indeed, what in the name of Vanille's wildly wandering accent are you talking about?


BORIS: Yohoho! What in the name of the restrictively linear gameplay are you talking about?


Announcement

If you've just tuned in, you are listening to a segment of a long-running comedy serial entitled Cannonby. In the prior exchange, the characters were spouting a long string of contrived in-jokes referencing the newly released game Final Fantasy XIII. If you find this annoying, or if you feel left out by the incredibly niche aim of these jokes, then The ACRE apologise sincerely, then proceed to two-facedly tell you to play some Final Fantasy games, you foolish dweeb.


CNBY: What in the name of a newly overhauled active time battle system was that announcement?


NURSE: While this silly sausagery is a lot of fun / We're getting absolutely nothing done.


DOKTOR:


This may not be the jingle for a section called Made Up Word

Yet it is undeniably absurd

Now shut up and listen so that I may be heard.


While you think it's very funny,

To make niche references to a new RPG,

It may amuse you, but it don't amuse me.

It devalues the tradition of Tales of Cannonby.


In the studio you have Adam and Dafydd,

as well as a guest, and probably a squatter,

Whose name is probably Conor,

But its in the story we characters live,

and we wish you'd ruined the script with a blotter,

or at least found Teal and Bludonna.


But no! They've been captured by the priests,

That you wrote in on a whim,

And on their captives flesh they'll feast,

As sure as an Agian Spider can swim.


But you don't care, oh writer of mine,

When they use their captives blood to make wine,

and when they boil their spleens in a soup tureen,

You won't care.


Narrator

Because I'll be playing Final Fantasy XIII.


Spider Narrator

Bye bye now, come back next week when there'll be more references to Final Fantasy XIII, in a not-so-final Cannonby!


*****

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Cheers all.