"That's What Watching Too Many Improv Programs Does To Your Brain, Son"....


“What is it now, boy?”, the anxious bear roared as he watched failed actors run and kicking a ball on the television.

“You… you know when I… when I go to school tomorrow?” the young child trembled from the might of the lion’s roar.

“Yes… go on…”

“How long…”

“Hang on there, mate.” his father interupted him, “Yes!! YES!!! GO ON!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!! Two-One!! TWO-ONE!!!!” The boy smiled at the glee of his father, which jumped up and performed a gesture only adults should do in bedrooms. He froze, looked at his confused son, then questioned him on his needs.

“How long do I have to go there ‘til? Y’know… school and tha’?”

“Well, ‘till ’bout your sixteen me’thinks butt.”

“‘TILL I’M SIXTEEN!?!?!” The child went up to his father, hugged him, and sobbed “you won’t forget to fetch me, will you?”

The father laughed at his son’s naiveness, in the nicest possibly way, of course. “You meant how long d’you have to stay there ’till I pick you back up? Ho-ho, where did I get you from, eh?”

The child, looking innocent, quoted “Well, you said to your friend, when he was here last like, you said to him ’I’m so glad I have Charlie… not only after that night with Louise… she was the greatest fu…”

“Would you like a nice cup of cocoa?” Charlie’s father interupted young Charlie rather hastily. As Chalrie nodded, the ogre-like man walked out of the room after the referee blown his whitle.

Charlie watched on as his father went to make the cocoa. Charlie, who was no needle in the haystack, smiled aimlessly once the blues had a penalty. “C’mon, son” Charlie whispered, “give Agnus a right pelt into the net!”. His father overheared him.

“Agnus?”, he questioned his pride and joy, while placing the cocoa on the table. Charlie watched his father taking out a packet of biscuits out of his pocket. He offered Charlie one. Charlie was hesitant with his reply.

“Agnus… she’s dat girl in our street…”

“Oh, I know now. I thaught you were freinds?”. His father, curious, dunked his biscuit into the sea of chocolate.

“She licked me…”

“You WHAT?!?!?!” his father, seemingly shocked to the untrained, three year old eye. though it was obvlious he was humouring his child.

“She licked me… I didn’t want her to do it.”

“Well, don’t worry. She’s not here now. Have some cocoa.”

“Was, was I raped, dad?” Charlie, looking innocently at his father. The father had to see his son, looking desperate for comfort.

“What? No! That ain’t rape. That’s just her way of comunicating….”. He gulped his cocoa down his throat.

“She said that I was her brother, too… she said that her mommy keeps saying about how you screwed her…”.

His father spat out his cocoa. The chocolate rained down on the jungle, and drenched the household tiger, which was fittingly called Pus-Pus. Though Pus-Pus was her name, Charlie insisted her name was Gelitine.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, boy” laughed Charlie’s father, as he thaught back to the days where he was the neon love chicken of the seventies.

“Okies, loves you daddy” Charlie yelled as he climbed the stairs to the land of nod.

“Love you too, son” his father yelled back.

At that moment, Nick had nothing to do but to laugh at his son’s innocence. How many three year olds have heared more sexual words than the Vatican in such a short time? Nick, after towel-drying Charlie’s favourite feline, rushed to the cubboard that stood tall in the passage. Being as gentle as a heart sergean, Nick took out his his pride possession, and wore it….

And, what a sight he was….

A few minutes later, Charlie appeared in the doorway with his hands full with Gelitine. Looking puzzled, he asked his father, “Dad, why d’you look like a bok-bok? And why are you wearing neon lights?”.

"That's What Watching Too Many Improv Programs Does To Your Brain, Son"....


Pontypridd, United Kingdom

  • Artist

Artist's Description

Before anyone says anything, I admit I nicked ideas from programs like “Whose Line Is It Anyway?”, “Mock The Week”, and “Thank God You’re Here”. I found these programs have force-fed my brain with ideas for comedies, though personally I’ve never thaught that I was funny. I ain’t funny. Though I get laughs from my English courseworks…. wierd.
I know my spelling is crap, so’s my sense of humour.
Anyroad. Hope this entertains you…. or at least unbores you for a couple of minutes.
Comments are always welcome.

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