Ra Hotboy Dialogue No. 1.

Friday 11:56 p.m.
Jack the Spam Robot has been following the Five Step Programme on How to Get Out Your Face On Air. This is a record of his first test. If he passes this test, he gets a badge. The badge says Library Assistant. This is the first grade as a preliminary to entering novitiateness giving one a chance in a future lifetime of becoming a member of the Amazing Bloggie Church of the Bad Boy Blissheid.

Now that moi has finished moi's life work as a novelist, I would like to be best known in future as a ventriloquist act. The following constitutes the first draft of the script. Imagine the lights come up and sitting on stage is moi with little Jack sitting on my knee. Since I cannot do the ventriloquism, I will have a big black beard on the end of a stick which I will raise in front of my face whenever Jack has to speak, thus enhancing the illusion.

Blogging isn't writing, so to justify wasting all this bloody time, I should re-draft this script again and again until I get it right. So the first draft will be very rough, and is really just for moi since no one comes here anymore anyway. And I used to enjoy writing dialogue.

(The curtain opens. On stage is HotboyMadyamikaS.O.B. and on his knee is little Jack, the Spam Robot. )
H.B: Hello, Jack.
J.: Hello, Hotboy.
H.B. Where is the moon, Jack?
J: It is up in the sky, Hotboy.
H.B. What is it made of?
J: Everyone knows that the moon is made of cheese.
H.B. What is cheese made of?
J. I think it comes from milk, at first anyway.
H.B. And what is milk made of?
J. Milk must be made of big molecules, which must have a lot of carbon and stuff in them.
H.B. What are these big molecules made of then?
J. Atoms.
H.B. What are these atoms made of?
J. Um. Electrons and protons?
H.B. What are these electrons and protons made of then, Jack?
J. I think they are supposed to be made of wee-er tottier things, like glue-ons, and lots of
other names for wee things.
H.B. What?
J: Well, glue-ons, and upside down-ons, and right-ons, and left-0ns, and Klingons. Stuff
like that.
H.B. And what are all these wee tottie things supposed to be made of?
J: Um? Wee string things.
H.B. And what are they made of?
J: Okay. I don't know what the fung anything is made of.



H.B. Say you landed on the moon, Jack. What would you say?
J: I'd say: I have landed on the moon. I am the second Scottish person to land here, the first being Neil Armstrong.
H.B. Is the moon in your mind then when you land on it, or independent of your mind, or a mixture of both.
J: Since it seems to be made of rocks and dust, and that's not true ... it is made of half-ons, half-offs, and underside down-ons ....

(next morning: around about here the moon and the mind and the half bottle of plonk I found kind of just added to the general confusion already induced by the four bottles of beer! But I've deleted it now whatever it was!)