The project is called "Genie in a Blender," and it will be a webseries. There will be a series of short arcs, and each episode within that arc will be between 5-10 minutes. It is very much a tongue-in-cheek comedy, though the characters have surprising depth. Of course, I may be biased in saying that; I'm writing it.
This will be a creative collaboration between me and the great Paulo, which is not our first adventure together, but certainly our most epic.
In terms of roles that are needed, we have an open position for the main protagonist, and the main antagonist, along with many extra roles. We could also use people for camera, sound, and all the other odd jobs including prop and costume building. If you are interested, you can contact Steve and me on our personal facebook pages if you know us personally. If you don't, but you life in the Maryland area, you can also contact us at waywardcaptainarts@gmail.com. Auditions are open to all, and we will need a one-minute or so monologue. This can be done preferably in person, but we can't get our schedules to mesh, sending a video is fine. Feel free to ask any questions! We're excited about the project and eager to share.
For those of you that are curious about what the script will be like, here is an excerpt below. Steve is working on formatting my scrawl into proper script format, because I can't get out of my prose mindset. Nonetheless, here is a taste of Genie in a Blender, in all its ridiculous glory.
Flea
market, morning. Tables across stage, Justin Case enters right,
begins perusing among the customers. Center table merchant calls over
low chatter.
“Mystical
wares from across the sea! Enchanted electronics!”
Justin
wanders over skeptically. Table is full of kitchen appliances.
“Mystical?
This is a toaster.”
“Not
just any toaster, this one can ward off evil spirits. The metal has
been infused with holy water! No more malevolent spirits on your
morning bagels.”
“I
don't think I've ever had malevolent bagels.”
“Where
do you think food poisoning comes from?”
“People
don't get food poisoning from bagels.”
“I
see you have no problem with evil spirits, then. Well, what about
this?”
“A
blender?”
“Enchanted
blender, a blessed blender, even! You've heard of the tale of
Aladdin, right? This blender holds within it a powerful djinn. Most
people use blenders for milkshakes, but you could create miracles!”
“Right.
And that coffee maker?”
“Single
serve cups. Can also make tea and hot chocolate.”
“That's
it?”
“It
also has a timer!”
Justin
looks around skeptically. “Look, I need a normal blender. You got
any of those?”
“Just
the genie machine. Thirty bucks. Take it or leave it.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five?
It has a genie in it. And he
doesn't appreciate tight-wads. Thirty.”
“Fine, fine. But you're full of shit, old man.”
Justin pays. Merchant grins. “Come back when you want another small
home electric!”
“Crackpot.” Justin exits with blender
Scene
Small apt. Kitchen to stage left, couch and TV center, houseplant to
right beside door leading offstage.
Justin enters, carrying blender and muttering. “If this thing
doesn't work, I'm calling the asylum for that old dude.”
Plugs in blender, pours in ice and liquid. Turn on, and sparks fly.
Smoke billows from the top. Justin steps back coughing, fanning at
the smoke.
“Son of a bitch!”
Genie stands up from behind kitchen counter. Skin has a gold tint,
wearing jewelry, 'hammer pants', and no shirt. “Actually,
technically, I was born of wind, sand, and dreams. But if your dreams
are kind of a bitch, then I suppose it would be close enough.”
Justin jumps back, grabbing toaster and wielding it like a weapon.
“Who the hell are you? How did you get in my house?”
Genie climbs up on counter and sits cross-legged. “What does it
look like? I'm the genie of the blender.”
Justin pauses, stares. Does not lower toaster. “You're shitting me,
right? Where are the hidden cameras? Ha ha ha, we've all had a good
laugh at this poor bastard's expense.” Looks around, as if
searching for cameras.
“What,
do I not look like how you expect? I thought this was rather
stereotypical.” Pouts, and stands on counter. Pulls off hammer
pants (tear-away style) to reveal jeans underneath. Takes off gaudy
jewelry and sits again, comfortably. Bare feet. “Better?”
Justin does not look better. “You're shitting me.”
Genie, calmly. “No. I am the genie of the blender. Listen, kid,
times are changing. No one has oil lamps any longer. And have you
seen the modern light bulb? Miniscule! I am not staying in that thing
for all eternity. Blenders have lots of room to stretch out, I get
electric, it's perfect. Now are you going to stand there like an
idiot waiting to beam me with an non-blessed toaster, or are you
going to make me a smoothie?”
Justin lowers toaster. “Wait, so are you, like...a wish-granting
genie?”
Sarcastic. “No, I'm a plate-twirling genie. What other kind of
genies are there? Though, come to think of it, a plate-twirling genie
would be pretty sweet.” Pulls a plate from the cabinet, still
sitting on counter, studies it a moment, then shrugs and throws it to
the back of the stage, where it hits the wall and breaks. “Eh,
maybe not. I'd like to sign up to the video game testing genie, but
that wasn't in my contract.”
“What? Video games?”
“Yeah, I could kick your ass in Mario Kart. But, I also cheat.
Comes with the all-powerful, magical gig. So, what do you want?”
“Can I wish for anything?”
“Ehh, more or less.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if you, say, wish for limitless wishes, I would laugh in
your face. No cheating. Unlike how I play Mario Kart. And I can't
fully control human emotions, but I can be suggestive. How do you
think George W. Bush won the election?”
“Wait, you did that?”
“Ol' Dub-ya likes his milkshakes, you know. The kitchen for the
Oval Office is bitchin'.”
“Could you make my kitchen look like that?”
“Bend the laws of space to make your kitchen three times the size
of your entire apartment? Sure. But the gourmet chefs are an extra
wish.”
