CLEOPATRA have finally consented, through a long and complicated legal process that didn't involve them whatsoever, to appear in their very own online audio sitcom! In drawn-out courtroom tousles, that often ended as all-in wrestling sessions, we at disappointment agreed that there would be no images of the girls on this page, and nor would we use the voices of the girls. But that's OK - they're ugly and talk shit!
We don't have access to streaming sound technology, we don't know how to do much on the internet, and our voice talents are cripplingly limited. On top of all this, I'm using the word "we" to create a false impression of corporate professionalism, when it is in fact just me. And I've just had a wank, so it's only a matter of time before I fall asleep.
So, here is the situation. Cleopatra are at a party, and their great uncle Silus has come to visit. He is behaving mighty suspicious! Plus, Cleo thinks she's got a big pair of bollocks, and they're beginning to ache badly. Of course, this may not be the case. It's up to you.... but this sample has to be in the middle.
To submit a line to the newest free-style jazz sitcom slobberfest... on ice... you may send me a sound file you recorded yourself (preferably in low quality wav or real audio, or something like that), or phone this number and leave a voicemail of your script line, which will then be emailed by a robot to me. In this way, like an elaborate and hateful game of Consequences, a sitcom script will emerge.
Will it be a phoenix rising from the ashes, or a stool sliding silently from a hairy arse? Time, my winged cousin, holds the answer.
If you are phoning from work, please ask your boss if you can make an audio contribution to a SitCom purporting to be about Cleopatra the pop band from a work telephone. Also, try to talk in a funny voice. And tell me who you are, as well, so I can credit ye.
SITCOM SO FAR
When a scene is complete, it will be taped together and put on this here internet in a cacky non-streaming realaudio file.
And I've started you off with Yonah... setting the tone somewhat.
|Scene||Party. Whitney Houston's "Your Love Is My Love" is playing. Mercifully, it fades.|
|Yonah||This party is bitching. I've danced my cunt to a stump.|
Of course, in the current climate of paedophile hysteria, I feel obliged to explain that Uncle Silas is, in fact, a radical feminist - that's why he wants the girls to take off their bras. And he's solving little Rubik's Cubes in his pockets.