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Här hade jag tänkt att ni kunde skriva era egna texter och slänga upp, få kritik och antingen gråta eller glädjas. Let the dice roll folks.



- Inget rasistiskt, sexistiskt eller nedsättande skit i allmänhet, ah kay?

- Ingen kritik som har något med personen själv att göra, t.ex: "Fan, vilken dålig saga, jävla turk".. capisce?

- Ehm, knock yourselves out. :rolleyes:


Börjar väl med en egen då, som jag skrev till ett engelskt forum...


A bird darted over the quiet field, it was too early for anyone to be up anyway, and since this was a place with no action, no matter what time of the day you chose, no-one would ever notice its quick visit. The bird would continue over the two-feet rock, and would not turn around until the sound of a car engine scared it to retreat.

The car itself, one of the Cadillac brand, drove over the rocky landscape with a speed race drivers themselves would be impressed to see in action, and it showed no intention of stopping. Domenico Angelino was the man behind the wheel, and he looked stressed, nervous and pissed. Mumbling to himself with a Marlboro between his teeth, Domenico made the car do a U-turn, and the engine rapidly faded out.

Running out of the car, Domenico jogged to the back of the car and popped the wide trunk open. What a fuckin stench. The guy just wouldn't die, he still moved his fucking arms, made strange noises and let blood stain the entire trunk. Fucking manners.

'Ey, what the fuck.. watch the trunk.

Martin: FUCK YOU!

Whoa.. where the fuck did you get air from?

Pulling his gun, Domenico smirked at Martin. Terrified, just like the rat he was, Martin's eyes widened, and he wanted to ask for mercy. It was obvious. No mercy was given, unless you call it mercy to end the poor fuck's life.


Fuck YOU.

The trunk was securely closed, and Domenico cussed all the way to the front seat. His trunk was a mess, and for his life, he couldn't find the shovel in the back seat. When he finally did, he wondered who was a dumb fuck enough to put it under the seats. No-one could find it there. The sun now stood high on the sky, and he had dug for two hours and counting. The damn hole was big enough, so Martin's body fell down it. Bye-bye, motherfucker. It would only take one hour to put all the dirt back, to cover the hole again, and Domenico was exhausted. So much work for a fucking nobody. He got in the car and started the engine. Soon, he would be back in town, ready to show the fucks in the theatre who he really was.

Two Hours Later; The Town of Calabria:

A brand as rare as Cadillac turned many heads, and everyone knew who drove it in a matter of minutes. Håller med till 100%! got around fast, not that Domenico gave a flying fuck. He threw the door up, got out, and did not throw any of those peasants a look. He just roamed down the street, until he finally reached the theatre building. 'Julius Caesar' was the play currently amazing the audiences, and the leading role was occupied by Antonio Falenza, a rising star in Sicily, believed to be able to go world-wide, in time. He was a talent, yes, but no talent would get away for free from Domenico Angelino's clutches. A bouncer, dressed as a faggot, in some medieval looking coat and a 50s hat over his head looked at Domenico as he approached the entrance of the theatre.

Guard: English?


Guard: Ticket.

Ticket what?

Guard: Want see your ticket.

Won't see my ticket?

Guard: That's not I said!

The man's English was laughable. A peasant. Domenico wouldn't take shit from a peasant.

Listen.. I ain't got time for you. Step aside.

A wad of greens was shoved down the man's shoulder pocket, and Domenico patted his shoulder gently before entering the theatre building. He did not waste time, but walked up the set of stairs to his right, until he reached the 'Staff Only' door. It was not even locked. Peasants.

The corridor would be unguarded all the way, and but a few people were actually in the rooms by the sides of the corridor, and they were busy working, paying Domenico no attention. A hand knocked the director's door, and a shout calling Domenico inside could be heard. He quickly entered and shut the door behind him, watching the manager's shocked face as he looked up at Domenico.

Director: I don't understand! Who are you?!

Listen, amico.. that's not really the point here.

A hand was raised in the director's direction, and Domenico cocked an eyebrow as he pointed to the chair in front of the fat man's desk. Since the director did not affirm that Domenico could sit down, what could the young man do but occupy the seat?

You know Martin..?

Director: Falenza?!

A nod confirmed the answer.

Martin Falenza's gone.

Martin Falenza - a great actor as well, while not as great as his exceptional brother, Martin was more of a comic guy. Even if the role of Brutus was not very comical, Martin did a great job, and he looked way better than his somewhat odd-looking brother. He was a star in Sicily, and this was the reason to the director's ghasp.

Yeah.. I know. Now, I know you don't wanna' lose more people, I mean, they're good citizens, they earn you good cash, and they are the only reason you're able to feed your kids, so do me a favour and..

A pause struck the room.

...pay me five thousand each month. American money, I don't give a shit if that's a problem. Okay?

'Okay?', what kind of question was that? Of course it was okay, okay as the director still loved his kids, and did not wish to find his wife in the fridge when he was about to crack a beer.

Director: O-okay.

Mm. Good. Have a nice day.

Entering the magnificent auditorium from the staff entrance, Domenico took a seat in the front row. The man who killed the Roman Emperor today would not be Martin, but his stand-in. Oh, if only Julius knew that his brother had suffered a fate way worse than himself.

Kritisera er galna.

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Fattar inte meningen med tråden... ;)

Kalla mig dum och dra mig i könshåret baklånges, men jag fattar inte :rolleyes:

Här hade jag tänkt att ni kunde skriva era egna texter och slänga upp, få kritik och antingen gråta eller glädjas. Let the dice roll folks.

*drar i könshåret* Amagash.

Redigerad av Crice
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Ehm...skrev den här otroligt fåniga saken när jag och några kompisar tänkte göra en sketchfilm. Sketcherna skulle vara hyllningar till Monty Python, därav allt bladder om "silly"...och den engelska dialogen är tänkt att sägas med engelsk dialekt.

Skrivet för typ 2 år sedan för övrigt:

The Silly Beginning

Narrator - Ah yes here we go, here he comes.

En man går in på ett kontor.

Narrator – And now he’s in yes it’s very, very exciting to see what’s his next move is going to be.

Mannen går fram mot ett skrivbord centralt beläget i rummet.

Narrator – Ah As I thought he is indeed moving to the blind and deaf man behind the desk.

Director – Cut! You Can obviously not tell everybody he is blind and deaf…that pretty much ruin the sketch.

Director – Prepare for take 2.

Mannen går in igen.

Narrator – Ahh here we go again…

Director – Cut! Not “Here we go again” we doing it for the first time.

Director – Take 3.

Narrator – I’m terrible sorry…destroying valuable film like this.

Director – Cut! Take 4.

Mannen går in igen.

Narrator – Ah yes here we go…I’m really going to try not to mention the blind slash deaf man over there this time.

Director – Cut!

  En annan man vandrar in i bild.

Man – Stop this, this is silly! Why is that narrator here? It makes no sense!

Narrator – Yes is does.

Man – No it doesn’t!

Narrator – Stop arguing I’m a narrator!

Man – And why would any company hire a blind and deaf man? He can’t do anything. He can’t bloody hear anything and he can’t bloody see anything.

Narrator – Yes I see your point. This sketch is silly.

Man – Stop it immediately.

The silly presenters

Presenter – We’re terrible sorry if this sketch was too silly for you. We will do anything we can to bring it back in a non silly kind of way later in this program. Have a nice day…today and tomorrow and the day after that…this whole week…and the next week…and the week after that…this whole month…

Presenter2 – Can someone stop that presenter? He’s being silly!

Presenter – No I’m not.

Presenter2 – You can’t argue with a presenter. That’s silly.

Presenter – You started it.

Presenter2 – No I didn’t.

Presenter – Yes you did.

The silly fired presenter

Presenter - We are truly sorry that we have brought two silly sketches to you in the beginning of the show. We will try our hardest to make sure this will not happen again. The matter of fact is that we will fire all our presenters and narrators now so this not…

Presentatören bärs bort av två män.

Presenter – You can’t fire me live on television. That’s silly!

The silly blind/deaf man who is in fact neither

En man går in på ett kontor. Han tittar sig omkring lite, sedan går han fram mot ett skrivbord. Vid skrivbordet halvsover en annan man. Den förste knackar försiktigt i skrivbordet. Inget svar. Han knackar igen, lite hårdare den här gången. Ingen svar igen.

Man1 – Hrrm…Excuse me…hello? HELLO?

Mannen bakom skrivbordet rycker plötsligt till och tittar upp.

Man2 – What? Yes?

Den förste mannen tittar märkligt mot den andre. Sedan sätter han sig ner på stolen framför skrivbordet.

Man1 – Weren’t you supposed to be all Blind and deaf?

Man2 – What? No, no! I think the script went in to a rewrite after the silly beginning.

Man1 – Ahh I see. Haven’t read that one.

Man2 – You didn’t miss anything. It was not very funny anyway.

Man1 – So…what do we do now then?

Man2 – I dunno.

Man1 – This is not funny…

Man2 – Nope…

Man1 – Hungry?

Man2 – Yeah, haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.

Man1 – Wanna come back to my place? I’ll make a hell of a lobster.

Man2 – Yeah sure why not.

Dom två männen vandrar ut hand I hand.

The silly doctor

En doktor läser några journaler i sitt lilla ”undersökningsrum” när det knackar på dörren.

Doctor – Come in!

Man – Hello. My names is…

Mannen sträcker sig mot doktorns hand.

Doctor – Yeah whatever…

Doktorn avfärdar handen.

Doctor – So…whats up then?

Man – Well lately I’ve had this awful headache…day in and day out…

Doctor – I don’t think you’re qualified to diagnose yourself, do you?

Man – No but…

Doctor – Ahh…then we can start then…

Doktorn går utanför bild. Plötsligt får mannen ett baseballträ I huvudet. Doktorn tittar flinande in igen.

Doctor – Ohh…you were right headache it was…yes…anything else? Okey good…you can leave the money on the desk on your way out…100£ for the diagnose and 100£ for the treatment…

Doktorn går bort mot ett skåp och plockar fram en liten flaska som han dricker ur. Samtidigt tittar han ner mot mannens livlösa kropp.

Doctor – Cheers…ohh come on. Don’t be like that.

Doktorn tittar besvärat mot dörren.

Doctor – NURSE!

En sköterska kommer inspringande. Doktorn pekar på kroppen. Sköterskan böjer sig ner och kollar pulsen.

Nurse – I…I think he’s dead Doctor.

Doctor – Jolly good…then we can charge his family for wasting my time…

Nurse – What?

Doctor – And maybe for the rent of the room…

Nurse – How can you…what…I don’t…

Doctor – Can you take care of this…I think its time for my golf round…bye!

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;) Tror du någon orkar läsa allt det ?

Förmodligen, ja.

Fattar inte meningen med tråden...
Har du skrivit något, en spökhistoria eller ett manus till någon film eller något, posta det här. Det är väl roligt att läsa vad andra forumiter skriver för skit(?)?


Det där är Monty Python för fan!

Fin hyllnig eh?


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