Friday, October 20, 2006

It's Create A Character Weekend!



Okay, guys, three things:
  1. What's his name?

  2. What's going on in this picture?

  3. What are his character contradictions?

18 comments:

GimmeABreak said...

His name is Jose Guererro.

Since Wham, he's been George Michael's number one fan. Acting on a tip posted to a bulletin board at Just Us Boys, Jose waits, prayerful, in a West End bar, hoping that when his idol exits the restroom, he'll have his once-in-a-lifetime chance to shake the whatever of the man that inspired him "come out of the washroom," so to speak, and to accept himself for what he is - an obsessive-compulsive hand-washing pedophilic necrophiliac with homosexual tendencies and borderline personality disorder.

It's been a tough row to hoe, though. Public facilities are sooo unclean - can you imagine the germs, OMG! - and, distasteful as they may be, they're really difficult to find when needed, especially in the same locations as his love interests.

Oh, well, sacrifices sometimes must be made in the quest for l'amour de coeur.

Mim said...

Pyotr "Peter" Petrovich came to America ten years ago and stayed where the plane landed: New York City.

Pyotr has discovered that his Russian upbringing and education in music, art, and literature have made him the darling of the literati. His affectation of wearing scarves is deliberate, as are his mannerisms. Here you see him paying strict attention to the blitherings of a socialite as she natters on about the picture they have both been admiring.

Pyotr both despises and loves the life he leads. He enjoys the art and music that he writes about as a critic, and he enjoys the company of some of the women, who believe he is gay and must "turn" him. But he hates the stylized type of admiration most Americans use when they talk about art.

On weekends, he wears his leathers and hangs around in punk and goth clubs, soaking up the raw and honest emotions of the lost souls who spend their lives there.

And he gets laid a lot.

Unknown said...

Carlo Montoya hates to get his hands dirty, but sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do... of course, it sometimes takes a bit of a pep talk in the mirror, and a little rehearsal of the tough guy role he's got to play. After all, tortureres have to at least scare the guy they're interrogating.

Anonymous said...

Paco Piñata sells cars but he's also compulsive gambler. He knows if he sells this 1975 Levi's Gremlin X, he'll have just enough money to drive to Vegas for the weekend and have a go and crap tables.

He's just laid all the paperwork down in front of “the Beez” and excused himself from the room.

“Sign motherfucker, SIGN!” he says to himself from the gloomy paneled sales manager's office. If the Beez will just pick up the Bic and sign on the dotted line, Paco's headed for Vegas in his 1988 Coupe de Ville.

He's already got the weekend planned...

First, he'll stop at IN-N-OUT on the way out of town and order a Double-Double with cheese, animal style. He'll get fries but nothing to drink since he'll have a cooler filled with Zima along for the ride.

The Double-Double will get him as far as Whiskey Pete's Casino, about 50 miles away from Vegas but a nice little place to warm up and refill.

With another bottle of Zima, a chili dog, and a cash in of $500, Paco's hoping and praying for a string of eights the hard way.

A nice little win at Whiskey Pete's would not only put Paco ahead but be a lucky sign of things to come for the weekend. With just the right money management, Paco might be able to jump from $5 on the line and $10 in double odds to $10 and $20 in odds... “Wow. Wouldn't that be fucking fantastic? Sign, motherfucker, SIGN!”

The Beez picks up the pen – scans the paperwork...

“Sign motherfucker, SIGN!”

He pulls the cap off the bottom and replaces on the top.

“Sign motherfucker, SIGN!”

The Beez presses the tip of the Bic to the line right next to the big read arrow sticker but STOPS.

Paco rushes out of the sales manager's office, “Is there a problem?”

“I don't wear Levis” says the Beez. “I wear plain pockets. Can you get somebody to rip all the little red Levi tags off the upholstery?”

“Is that what it's gonna take to get you into the Gremlin TODAY?” asks a frustrated Paco.

“My Mom and Dad couldn't afford to buy me Levis,” snaps the Beez. “No tags.”

“You gotta deal. Just sign next to the arrow.”

The Beez signs his full name... Beasel Francis Dorfner and no sooner does he finish the cute little swirl at the end of his “r” does Paco snatch up the paperwork. “I'll just rip those little red tags out for you and you can be on your way.”

Inside the Gremlin, Paco pulls on a little red tag with one hand while stabbing at it with a pair of Trim fingernail clippers. No luck.

“Here.” The Beez hands Paco a dental pick with a very sharp point. “You have really nice teeth.”

Paco accepts the pick – pokes it underneath the tag and like magic, the little red tag comes loose.

Paco flicks the little red tag outside the Gremlin and gazes at the Beez...

“You like IN-N-OUT?”

The Beez pulls the pick from Paco's grip... “Only if it's animal style.”

Unk

Anonymous said...

Damn... I forgot to proofread:

This sentence:

He knows if he sells this 1975 Levi's Gremlin X, he'll have just enough money to drive to Vegas for the weekend and have a go and crap tables.

Should read:

He knows if he sells this 1975 Levi's Gremlin X, he'll have just enough money to drive to Vegas for the weekend and have a go at the crap tables.

This sentence:

He pulls the cap off the bottom and replaces on the top.

Should read:

He pulls the cap off the bottom and replaces it on the top.

This sentence:

The Beez presses the tip of the Bic to the line right next to the big read arrow sticker but STOPS.

Should read:

The Beez presses the tip of the Bic to the line right next to the big red arrow sticker but STOPS.

Sorry about that... LOL.

Unk

Anonymous said...

Whew... I still fucked it up. LOL.

I NEED SLEEP.

Unk

Mim said...

I got what you meant, Unk, even without the corrections.

But I'm totally with you on the anal attention to detail.

I love how you linked this character with the last one.

Anonymous said...

I learned how to write scenes using a similar exercize.

My playwriting teacher would give us each a pic w/ 2 people in it. We would have to 1) give the char's names, 2)their relationship to one another & 3)what the conflict was between them. Then we would write up a little scene.

We used a single person pic (like in this exercize) when we wrote monologues.

I learned a lot from those exercizes. :-)

Christina said...

His name is Juan. He's watching a drag queen named Carlita (i.e. Carlos) and planning his approach. His contradiction? During the day, he works at COSTCO. In the meat department. Wait - maybe that's not a contradiction?

wcdixon said...

He goes by the name Fillippe, but his real name is Xenon from the planet Zoltar. He has four eyes but the upper two are more sensitive, thus the sunglasses.

In this scene he's in a church trying to understand earth's strange and mysterious ways. Unfortunately, his 'hands' are glued together in a clasp so as much as he wants to fit in and conform and 'pray' like the others, he can't.

Patricia Burroughs aka Pooks said...

His name is Nigel.

He's smiling, which is quite the miracle since he has two gunshot wounds and is being supported by the man with Very Large Hands clasped in front of him.

Nigels hands are holding his guts in.

One the coppers drive on, Nigel will sink to the ground, the Very Large Hands will drag him into a limousine and he will be whisked away somewhere safe.

After which he'll kill the guy with Very Large Hands for knowing too much, I'm sure.

Mystery Man said...

Gimme - OMG - I loved "obsessive-compulsive hand-washing pedophilic necrophiliac with homosexual tendencies and borderline personality disorder." Hehehe...

Miriam - I would imagine he gets laid a lot, too!

Rose - He was torturing me with those crazy glasses! Hehehe...

Unk - Only if it's animal style! Hehehe... That was great. Seeing the corrections was pretty funny too. You're SUCH a writer.

Laura - I used to play this game all the time with a friend of mine (who moved away). We made ourselves laugh so much, it became one of our favorite things to talk about in public. Bars are great for this game, and I love seeing a) new nervous couples on a first date or b) a couple have a knock-down-drag-out fight. Hehehe...

Christina - I love it! Hehehe...

Dix - Hehehe... I give you the prize for "most original."

Oops, sorry, Dix - I might have to give that prize to POOKS. Hehehe... Hilarious.

Ross - That almost hits too close to home. Hehehe...

Thanks so much, guys!

Anonymous said...

Ray Bannerman is a mannequin accessory engineer for Macy's. He just got wind Bloomingdale's across the street is debuting their fall line of Oakley and Nike sunglasses and wonders if perhaps he shouldn't have done a double order of headless torsos for the Isotoner glove collection, because we all know Jeff in Marketing has been on his case to boost the numbers in the Hand Division for fear of banishment to Socks.

Mystery Man said...

Hehehe... That's frickin' hilarious. I really liked that one.

Patricia Burroughs aka Pooks said...

My fave is the George Michael stalker -- home run right out of the box, and a tough act to follow.

But really, those hands are just entirely too large to be his. What the hell? That has to be Cameron Diaz holding him up. She's got man hands, right?

Mystery Man said...

Yeah, that's Pat! (GimmeABreak) Pat totally gets it all, the character depth series, the subtext, everything.

I laughed out loud when I read "an obsessive-compulsive hand-washing pedophilic necrophiliac with homosexual tendencies and borderline personality disorder."

-MM

GimmeABreak said...

I do ok with dialog (subtext) and character but I SUCK at story!!!

(thanks for the kind words, BTW)

Carl S said...

Hey! How'd I miss this? The examples are hilarious, I don't know if this picture has yet another personality in it but here goes...

Garn's hobby got him in trouble more often than not, but projecting fart noises with his hands at cocktail parties was just too much fun to give up.

He tried to be a class act - suave, smooth, fashionable - but in the end, making Mrs. Hempseeder appear to have sudden outbreaks of flatulence while discussing high art with Mr. Lapbellows, was simply too appealing.