Anther improv story from last week. Our improv class is SO funny and I almost never remember exactly what was so funny. Ok, one more fun scene:
Emotion switching. We were stuffing a pinata. I started with chavaunistic, he started with schitzophrenic (I don’t know how to spell either of those.) It is really hard to play a scene with a schizophrenic! He kept saying he was going to go over there, no he wasn’t, he was going to come back over here. He kept moving and talked in short, clipped sentences, He hated this! He loved it!
I stood proudly with my hands on my hips. I opened my mouth to speak several times, but he was still being schitzophrenic all over the place. When I got a chance to break in, I made a bold and loud pronouncement, “Only people with breasts stuff pinatas!”
I was still in my bold pose. I wasn’t sure what else to say. Ok, I’m a chauvinist. Am I a girl of a guy? What I just said didn’t make any sense did it?
Ok, it’s my turn: be manly, “Go stuff the pinata!”
Then a laugh burst out of my closed mouth and spit flew everywhere. I covered my mouth and tried to stop laughing. Then I thought, oh what the heck and went with it. I pretended to cry. Then I laughed, cried, laughed. Looked over my shoulder, “What did you say?” Then I looked down at myself and said with surprise, “Hey! I have breasts!”
He put his hands on his hips and said with disdain and arrogance, “Go stuff the pinata!”
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