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Jan. 10th, 2014 05:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fry_sandhu"Be the best clock that I can be." Fry sings to himself as he bounces into Drama class. It's the first time his class has done a proper play, other than the Nativity, where all the good roles go to the class above. Also Elise the Police Officer is one of his favourite book series. He would have much rather been a police officer, like Kasha and Patrick, but Charles told him if he was a good talking clock he might get a better part next time.
Mrs Donkey, the Drama teacher, always has a bit of a pained expression, which is totally lost on Fry.
"I hope you have all learned your lines over Christmas." she says, when the children are sitting. "I expect you all to be quiet when you aren't on stage. You should watch the others so you know when it's your turn."
They get started in the first scene. Mrs Donkey makes a mark on the stage and tells Fry to stand there. He waits patiently and says his lines at the right time.
Patrick, who it is apparent has not spent much if any time learning his lines over Christmas, keeps missing his lines. After the third time, Fry starts to fill them in.
"That's not your line!" Patrick complains.
"You were meant to learn them." Fry points out.
"Fry, you don't need to prompt Patrick, I do that." Mrs Donkey says.
Fry tries not to say the lines when the other kids miss them, but he can't help blurting them out.
Being a clock seems to be harder than he thought too. For one thing, he only has two hands, and for another every time he tries to show is backwards. Mrs Donkey ends up getting up and showing him each individual position. The other problem is that with his hands in the clock positions there's no way to put his hand up to ask questions.
"Mrs Donkey? Am I meant to move slowly with the minutes?"
"Mrs Donkey? Do I go bong on the quarter or half hours?"
"Mrs Donkey? If the burglar steals it at nine o'clock why don't the police get called until eleven? Isn't that suspicious?"
"ALEXANDER!" Mrs Donkey eventually snaps, startling him. "There are other children besides you."
Fry blinks and looks around the stage. Indeed, there are other children beside him.
"I don't understand how that answers my question."
***
"Being a clock is rubbish." Fry complains to Kasha at break. "Patrick gets to be a police officer and he doesn't even know his lines!"
"I can stand on my head, want to see?" Tommy says, coming up to them with Patrick. Fry and Kasha watch in interest, tilting their heads as he goes over.
"How do you do that?" Kasha asks, having a go, but ending up doing a forward roll.
"I can do that." Patrick says, standing on his head but not as well as Tommy.
"Go on Fry, I can hold your legs if you like?" Kasha offers.
"I don't want to put my head on the ground." Fry says. "It's dirty."
"Wimpy wimpy wussy! You should try, your head's big enough." Patrick says, sniggering.
"Yeah, it should be easy with all those brains." Tommy teases.
"Your head is bigger." Fry says, looking at Patrick's head. "Mine goes through the Monster's Gob, bet yours won't."
The Monster's Gob was a gap between two trees at the edge of the playground, and was a favourite with some of the small children who would pretend to feed it things. If you looked at it right, you could see eyes and a nose in one of the branches.
"How much do you bet?" Patrick asks, scowling now.
"Packet of cheese puffs?" Fry offers.
"You're on." Patrick marches over to the tree and puts his head through the gap, squeezing his ears through the last bit.
"See, I win!" he says.
"Oh yes." Fry says. "Good luck getting it out again."
Mrs Donkey, the Drama teacher, always has a bit of a pained expression, which is totally lost on Fry.
"I hope you have all learned your lines over Christmas." she says, when the children are sitting. "I expect you all to be quiet when you aren't on stage. You should watch the others so you know when it's your turn."
They get started in the first scene. Mrs Donkey makes a mark on the stage and tells Fry to stand there. He waits patiently and says his lines at the right time.
Patrick, who it is apparent has not spent much if any time learning his lines over Christmas, keeps missing his lines. After the third time, Fry starts to fill them in.
"That's not your line!" Patrick complains.
"You were meant to learn them." Fry points out.
"Fry, you don't need to prompt Patrick, I do that." Mrs Donkey says.
Fry tries not to say the lines when the other kids miss them, but he can't help blurting them out.
Being a clock seems to be harder than he thought too. For one thing, he only has two hands, and for another every time he tries to show is backwards. Mrs Donkey ends up getting up and showing him each individual position. The other problem is that with his hands in the clock positions there's no way to put his hand up to ask questions.
"Mrs Donkey? Am I meant to move slowly with the minutes?"
"Mrs Donkey? Do I go bong on the quarter or half hours?"
"Mrs Donkey? If the burglar steals it at nine o'clock why don't the police get called until eleven? Isn't that suspicious?"
"ALEXANDER!" Mrs Donkey eventually snaps, startling him. "There are other children besides you."
Fry blinks and looks around the stage. Indeed, there are other children beside him.
"I don't understand how that answers my question."
***
"Being a clock is rubbish." Fry complains to Kasha at break. "Patrick gets to be a police officer and he doesn't even know his lines!"
"I can stand on my head, want to see?" Tommy says, coming up to them with Patrick. Fry and Kasha watch in interest, tilting their heads as he goes over.
"How do you do that?" Kasha asks, having a go, but ending up doing a forward roll.
"I can do that." Patrick says, standing on his head but not as well as Tommy.
"Go on Fry, I can hold your legs if you like?" Kasha offers.
"I don't want to put my head on the ground." Fry says. "It's dirty."
"Wimpy wimpy wussy! You should try, your head's big enough." Patrick says, sniggering.
"Yeah, it should be easy with all those brains." Tommy teases.
"Your head is bigger." Fry says, looking at Patrick's head. "Mine goes through the Monster's Gob, bet yours won't."
The Monster's Gob was a gap between two trees at the edge of the playground, and was a favourite with some of the small children who would pretend to feed it things. If you looked at it right, you could see eyes and a nose in one of the branches.
"How much do you bet?" Patrick asks, scowling now.
"Packet of cheese puffs?" Fry offers.
"You're on." Patrick marches over to the tree and puts his head through the gap, squeezing his ears through the last bit.
"See, I win!" he says.
"Oh yes." Fry says. "Good luck getting it out again."
