Script - "A Gallifreyan Guide to Becoming a Social Butterfly"

Earlier this week, I was required to memorize a certain number of lines of Shakespeare, and also a non-Shakespearean, dramatic monologue. However, the day approached and I was running out of time and options. Therefore, to achieve the fun zaniness I sought, I determined to write my own script. After giving the monologue on Sunday, some of my friends expressed the opinion that it was well-written, or something to that effect. So, by no demand whatsoever, except my own fancy, here is the script for you to enjoy (or not.)

(Outline for a handout/visual aid that never materialized:)
A Gallifreyan’s Guide to Becoming a Social Butterfly (the short-short version)

3: Break the Ice

1: Know Yourself

2: Know the Group

4: Join the Conversation

7: ???

11: Suggest Dinner

12: Introduce Companions

13: Fly to Mars

(Text proper, with some later changes and ad-libs inserted:)

Cast:

Time Lord – Edwardamendario, or “The Bachelor”

Edward: Travelling the worlds of this universe, I've only just arrived in this country. Strange. You’d think I’d have heard of it before! Anyway. After observing what you would call your 21^st, 22^nd, and 23^rd centuries, I see one key problem: socialization. No, I don’t mean any political or governmental nonsense. I mean just sitting down and talking. You've developed these electronic-y gizmos and lost all sense of ... of ... social adventure! For your benefit, I’ll tell you what to do. I’ll give you a sort of “Gallifreyan's Guide to Becoming a Social Butterfly.” Not literally, of course! I did that once, and the results weren't... Anyway! Let me begin.

(Edward:)

Step 1: Know yourself. I, for instance, am a 121 year-old Time Lord, still very young, with a sense of adventure. You can see from my dress that I am still fairly conservative, but have a flair of the dramatic.

Step 2: Know your group. You are all also very young, but Earthlings. It’s good to know about the group before you say anything. I once made an inappropriate crack about Shakespeare’s masculinity in a small London suburb. See, I thought my TARDIS sent me to a historic-literary convention in 2151 (they weren't ... aren't ... won't be so peculiar about things in the 22nd century), but I had actually been sent to a regular-literary convention in 1851. They chased me out of town.

Step 7: No, errm, I mean...

Step 3: Break the ice. This is easy for a suave Time Lord such as myself, but not everyone has it so easy. The key to this is relatability. You've got to figuratively, and sometimes literally, disarm the people around you. I do so by doing zany things, like this: [does some zany things]. The people are then so confused that they have no choice but to accept me into the circle.

Step 4: Join the conversation. This is the dull bit. I don’t even know what you people talk about. Barbecue? Cheese? Imported television programmes? It’s all still a little fuzzy to me.

Step 5: ... Do you hear something? Sort of a "chwhchwhchwh" sound? Wait, now it's a "abdabungabungadundabada..."

[He looks around as if something sounded. Reaches into backpack and pulls out a blank sheath of paper] Of course, my psychic essay! Well, technically a paper, but don't lets be confusing, eh? ... Oh dear! Somebody in the future needs my help! Something about a 500 page paper on the Cybermen invasion of Skaro, before the Cybermen even existed, lead by Benito Mussolini and Richard III, and ... involving me!?! But intervention in history is not my job! That other guy! What was his name... the Professor? The Monk? The Doctor! Call him! ... What's that? He's too busy? He's a time traveler, that doesn't mat- Oh, he's been there before, in different regenerations, and... I know elementary temporal physics! Crossing his own time stream could cause a paradox that would destroy 1/4 of the known universe... [sighs, throws down ] I never asked for this...

(Note, Doctor Who, Daleks, Cybermen, Time Lord, etc... belong to the skilled and glorious writers of BBC, and the other various entities that own the stuff. I equate this to playing in a sandbox. Some of the "toys" are mine, but most belong to whoever else. It's all so confusing anyway. However, who owns what in Doctor Who is a discussion for another time and another place...)