#deadwent shrimpling, mocker of sacred robes (derwents) wrote in cultureic, @ 2016-01-03 20:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! media: wizvis, asher greengrass, derwent shimpling, donald abercrombie |
[Notice from the producers: This installment of The Derwent Shimpling Show was filmed before Christmas, and is airing now for the first time. Otherwise, the show’s hiatus continues, to resume in mid-January.] DERWENT SHIMPLING: So tonight, I’ve got a very special guest—a representative of the younger, social media-savvy population to showcase the workings of winternet dating, a trend that’s emerged in the last few years and is steadily gaining traction. You’d call yourself an expert on dating, yes, Mr. Greengrass? [The chyron reads: ASHER GREENGRASS, Youth, CEO of 28Date.] ASHER GREENGRASS: I do. Thanks for having me on, Derwent. I can call you Derwent, right? DS: Absolutely! Should I call you Asher? AG: Oh, you'd better. You might need the practice for later. [Asher winks at him suggestively] DS: I— [For once, the host looks thrown, his verbosity grinding to a temporary halt.] AG: Just kidding, don't worry. We're here to find other people to date. Wouldn't be a show if we found true love right now, right? [He pauses, motioning to the audience.] Want to tell them what we're doing? DS: [recovers quickly, immediately finding his stride again] We’re making brand-new dating profiles on an app called “Incendio”, and we’re going to browse for a bit and then see who takes the bait. Tell us a bit about these apps, Asher. AG: Well, Incendio is just one of many dating apps for wizards and witches — which are sort of like dating ads in the Daily Prophet or the back section of the Knockturn Knews, except you get instant results. Anyway, Incendio is the most popular, and the most general one? There's also 28Date for Sacred 28, Beatr for— DS: There are a great many of them, aren’t there? But Incendio is a good one to trial, since it’s one of the most-used. To get started, we have to take our profile pictures. How about I take yours, Asher— AG: [Beams at the camera] Cheese please! — Or should I do the classic "I don't know you're taking the picture but I'm having a great time?" [Derwent snaps the photo, then reconsiders.] DS: No, hang on, you look too recognisably you. We’re going seriously undercover, so we’ll need to disguise you a bit. How about these? [hands over a pair of thick plastic glasses] AG: Oi, I don't want to look like a nerd! [Puts on the glasses, then looks at his camera.] No, wait, I look good. DS: Dashing. And now you’ll need to set your name, age, and a description. AG: All right, should I make up a name? How about… Blagdon? DS: You look like a Blagdon. AG: Oh do I? [He laughs] Do I look 25? I definitely want to be 25. DS: Maybe even older, since you’ve got that whole stately scholar thing going on. But let’s go with 25. Whippersnapper. AG: Okay and now you, let me take a picture. [Derwent affects an exaggeratedly sombre expression, as if he’s sitting for a funereal portrait.] AG: No, that one's no good. You look boring. How about… DS: It’s missing a certain something. AG: How about you dress up? DS: Excellent idea! We should actually have some prop clothing in the back here, from our old skits. Minions! Come! [The assistants bustle forth, and Derwent rummages through a box of costumes and props—a dreidel, a lightsaber, a two-man unicorn costume—before emerging with florid robes and a crown.] AG: Yes. Yes. This is it. King Derwent. Slay. DS: Because I’m coasting completely under the radar, I’ll need to pick my pseudonym as well. Let’s go with… Niffles. I once had a puffskein named Niffles. And I’ll be a very well-preserved 96. AG: Niffles. Sounds… very sexy. DS: [laughs] That one’s a stretch even for you. AG: We have to write a little description here. This is what people judge you on, so it has to be brilliant. DS: It can include hobbies, preferences. For example, me, I like… uh. [They both look thoughtful, mulling over their phones.] I like… swirly pastries… and…….. showering. AG: That's beautiful, Derwent. Like poetry. DS: My second career, don’t you know. AG: [He types on his phone a bit, then shows it to Derwent though it's not visible to the audience.] How about this? DS: [bursts into laughter] Yes. Yes! You’re a clever young man, you know, despite being a youth. Everyone— [turns to face the camera, gesticulates wildly at Asher] This kid has spunk, moxie, and probably a few other STDs. AG: Yeah, sounds about right. DS: And look. Look at this. I think we’ve got it. AG: All right, let's get down to business! [Cuts to a long montage of Derwent and Asher swiping left and right on their Incendio apps, some attractive people, some of their options clearly created by the show and ridiculously fake.] AG: Okay, okay, I've got five matches so far. How many have you got? DS: I — what? None! How do you have five already?! AG: I just say 'yes' to everyone. Come on, mate. You have to keep up. DS: I’m being picky. This one says “Not looking for DTF.” What does DTF— AG: [Laughs] Down to — you know. Eff. DS: Ah. I see. Not quite my bag either. But oh wait, here’s one… [One of the fake profiles pops up: a goth vampirette with a penchant for knifeplay and who is, indeed, DTF.] …Oh, my god. She’s a trampire. AG: What's her name? Darq? Okay, she's strange, but definitely hot. And on this app, you should err toward swiping right — you can always stop talking to them later. DS: Right, we’ll give it a… IT’S A MATCH. Finally, Niffles has a match! Niffles, aged ninety-six, still just looking for love in all the wrong places. AG: It's beautiful. The most beautiful love story I've ever seen. [Pretends to wipe away a tear.] DS: How about you? What are you saying to this endless floodstream of matches of yours? AG: Here, have a look. Here's my matches… Rayven, Hans, Lisette, married couple Egnorwiddle and Eglantine, and Rance. Which one should I message? DS: [stares incredulously at the screen, barely holds back another laugh] Rance. Right now. AG: Yeah, is that your type? DS: He has a certain something. I feel like he reminds me of someone. AG: [He laughs, oblivious.] Okay, so I'm going to say something like… hmm. I don't know. It has to be something good. Oh, here we go: I am so lonely. DS: Meanwhile, the immortal vampire still hasn’t messaged me back. [Asher’s phone dings] Rance responded already?? AG: Yep. [Asher fiddles with his phone. A moment later, he looks up.] He wants to meet. DS: Are you sure you won’t destroy him? AG: Oi! I promise I'm a nice guy. DS: Alright, then do it! Get the address. Folks, it’s time for us move onto PHASE TWO: THE IN-PERSON MEET. …and also, Asher, you should really charge your phone. [A wobbly shot of Derwent and Asher outside, at nighttime, struggling to get onto a tandem couple’s broom. Derwent slips off but is then levitated back.] [Finally, they successfully soar off into the night and towards the address for the Incendio date.] DS: [loudly, over the rush of the wind] This won’t be questionable at all when we show up on his doorstep. AG: Nope, just a couple of regular blokes riding the same broom. DS: [as they descend] You know, I feel like I know this address, actually… AG: Me too, oddly… [his brow furrows] but I can't remember how. [They buzz the studio. The door to the building eventually opens, revealing a rumpled man in his 20s with bright dyed hair, who does not look at all like Lance Bass. Chyron reads: DONNIE ABERCROMBIE, Youth, Freelance Writer.] DONNIE ABERCROMBIE: Uh...wow! I didn't think you'd actually show. Well, if you'll excuse me a minute, I'll go get Rance. [A pause.] We're roommates. [Donnie then turns to the camera and gives an exaggerated wink.] AG: Wow. I uh— I didn't know you knew him. [looks over at Derwent, giving him a Look] DS: What a coincidence! And hey, there, you’re Florence Abercrombie’s brother, aren’t you? I’m Derwent Shimpling, of Derwent Shimpling’s The Derwent Shimpling Show with Derwent Shimpling. You might recognise me from the WizVis. We’re doing a bit on Incendio here. If you could fetch Rance [a small knowing smile breaks through his mild expression], we’d be ever so grateful! DA: [winks at the camera again] I know who you are! We're all HUGE fans. I'll be right back. [A few moments later, the door opens again to reveal what is obviously a cardboard cutout of Lance Bass propped up against the door frame.] "RANCE": [in a deep, terrible American accent] Hey. I'm Rance. You must be Blagdon! [the cutout moves from side to side, in what is supposed to be a wave of greeting.] You're even more handsome in person. DS: [maintains a deadpan expression] Rance, thank you so much for responding to our request for a meet. We’re doing a test-run of Incendio for our viewers. AG: Wait, wot? [looks at the camera] Does no-one else realise this is a cardboard cutout? DS: What are you talking about? AG: That's Donnie right behind Rance, talking like he's him. "RANCE": I'm...not real? What? NOOOOOOOOOO [The dramatic scream dies out as the cardboard cutout slowly disappears behind the doorframe. Donnie takes its place.] DA: Yeah, so, looks like Rance won't be able to come out tonight. He's having an existential crisis. Living inside my head can do that to someone. [He turns to the camera, adopting an ominous voice] THE DANGERS OF WINTERNET DATING. DS: [glances back at the camera, spreads his hands in a ‘what can ya do?’ gesture] Consider it a VERY IMPORTANT public service message about the dangers of the medium: sometimes, people on the winternet aren’t exactly who they say they are! So, that said: care for a pint? AG: [finally composes himself] Yep, because you aren't always going to get lucky like we did — we know Donnie here. But if you're not careful, you might end up with someone strange or, worse, ugly. DA: This is beautiful. I'm so glad I was a part of this. I would LOVE to go for that pint. [pulls a cape from somewhere off screen, throws it dramatically over his shoulders] I'm ready, boys! DS: Wonderful, Mr. Abercrombie. Although where the hell did you get a cape? I’d like a cape. [turns to look directly into the camera, as if taking note for his production team] Next episode, gents, you’re getting me a cape! And Asher, get the broom. AG: Aye aye, captain! [rushes offscreen, then comes back with the tandem broom, clearly going to be a tight fit. He stares at it, looks at the three of them, then back to the broom.] Hope you're ready to get cozy, lads! Let's go! [With only a few accidents, the motley trio manage to clamber onto the broom with Derwent at the front, like a mother hen leading two particularly strange and gawky chicks. And off they fly into the (metaphorical) sunset.] |