
(Public Service Announcement: I'm technically naked in this cartoon. I'm not sure this is rated PG, but I realized my error, and every other stick Brennan will now have pants. Thank you.)





(Here's where problem happened. We should have been collectively doing the script, but it..uh...happened to be a few people. It's a long story. With murder. And...uh...I'm sick. *Sneeze*)

(Sarah doesn't normally look this evil. I took some artistic license. Not that there's much artist going on here. But...be brave...it's almost over.)

(While Colin is tall, he normally doesn't burn down buildings. It's more of a once-in-a-blue-moon-the-script-wasn't-finished-yet-thing. We all worked together and made a plot.)

And here's where it ends. The script isn't done. That's bad. But we have a plot, which we didn't have before...which is good. So...uh...wish me luck. I have somehow became the central character of this play, which is...UM? I should be practicing???? I don't know how this happened. I mean, I make up my own plays in my mind where I'm the hero, but it's not supposed to happen in REAL LIFE. OR EVEN FAKE LIFE FOR THAT MATTER. WHAT THE HAY IN THE CLAY IN THE DIDDLY.
So, yes, we have two weeks to properly put our script together, which is in the process of being completely rewritten because the plot didn't work before and now we have an actual STORY in the end, so that's really good. However, now that a couple of people (Sarah, me, director, Colin) have sat down and hashed everything else out, we now have to present it to the group, and make them see how good it can be. Which could be bad, because everyone else is a wee bit demotivated because we have been having some bad practices. (Aka. There's no plot. How do we have a play, Watson? I don't know Sherlock, but I bet it's elementary.) I'll be doing a lot of feverent praying up until the play date, now, methinks. And a lot of writing lines for the play. My lines, specifically, of course. That's how this whole process works. *Sigh* Theatre is so confusing. How does Eva do it? She must want to go for the kill on the regular basis. Me, I just want to hang myself from the rafters by my undies.
Other than that, I was told tonight that my way of speaking is 'jiffy-wiffly.' Apparently that means I euphemize everything. JIFFY-WIFFLY???? GEEZ! SERIOUSLY!!!
Whew, blood boiling. Jiffy-Wiffly, my fanny. *grumble*
Ok, I'm ending here. I need sleep like a person who hasn't slept in 22 hours. Or something.
Yay! I love acting!