Sunday, September 3, 2006

inane chat between Cockney guys


Slovenian or Alien?


“I tell yer me trouble and strife is an alien.”
“Sure. Sluvnia isn’t exactly this neck of us woods.”
“No, I mean Zianna is from outer space.”
“Yer mean another planet?”
“Yes.”
“Cop out of 'ere!”
“Hear me out first.”
“Okay. Wot did she do?”
“For one, she arranges effryfink in rectangles and squares. She even cuts an apple till the core is a rectangle.”
“That o'course immediately makes 'er a Martian.”
“If yer’re gonna be like that, I’m gonna change the bloomin' subject. Obviously, right, yer don’t take me straight up.”
“Straight up? I’m sposed ter believe that yor luvly trouble and strife is an E.T.?”
“It sounds crazy. Listen. There’s this uvver fin'.”
“Wot?”
“She sleeps wiv 'er feet next ter my loaf of bread and 'er loaf of bread next ter my feet.”
“And if yer turn 'round?”
“She goes the chuffin' other way.”
“Yer’re nuts.”
“I’m nuts, is it? I tell yer Zianna is an alien.”
“I won’t ask yer 'ow yer make luv ter her. I refuse ter go there. So wot other evidence will yer put forff?”
“Her eatin' 'abits.”
“Yeah, eh? Wot about them?”
“She eats only food of certain colours, say, corn, peas, tomatoes, right, pumpkin. If a food is of an indistinguishable colour, she won’t touch it.”
“Neever would I but I’m still an Earfflin'.”
“Yer don’t believe me at all.”
“I believe yer, but the bleedin' finks yer mentioned don’t make Zianna an extraterrestrial. She’s just eccentric.”
“Right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then 'ow do yer account for 'er gahn missin' for two days effry time the moon is full?”

--- --- ---

The following is the original dialogue:

“I tell you my wife is an alien.”
“Sure. Slovenia isn’t exactly this neck of our woods.”
“No, I mean Zianna is from outer space.”
“You mean another planet?”
“Yes.”
“Get out of here!”
“Hear me out first.”
“Okay. What did she do?”
“For one, she arranges everything in rectangles and squares. She even cuts an apple till the core is a rectangle.”
“That of course immediately makes her a Martian.”
“If you’re going to be like that, I’m going to change the subject. Obviously, you don’t take me seriously.”
“Seriously? I’m supposed to believe that your lovely wife is an E.T.?”
“It sounds crazy. Listen. There’s this other thing.”
“What?”
“She sleeps with her feet next to my head and her head next to my feet.”
“And if you turn around?”
“She goes the other way.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I’m nuts? I tell you Zianna is an alien.”
“I won’t ask you how you make love to her. I refuse to go there. So what other evidence will you put forth?”
“Her eating habits.”
“Yeah? What about them?”
“She eats only food of certain colours, say, corn, peas, tomatoes, pumpkin. If a food is of an indistinguishable colour, she won’t touch it.”
“Neither would I but I’m still an Earthling.”
“You don’t believe me at all.”
“I believe you, but the things you mentioned don’t make Zianna an extraterrestrial. She’s just eccentric.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Then how do you account for her going missing for two days every time the moon is full?”


(522 words all in)

The above was in response to this writing exercise:
Create a scene, of 600 words or less, where two (or more) characters have a conversation. Choose one of your characters to “dialectize.”
Now go to this site:
http://www.freelang.net/references.html
and about halfway down you’ll see The Dialectizer. Convert your chosen character’s dialogue using the dialectizer.
Try it; it's fun!



5 comments:

Xeus said...

Hey it is fun! Useful fer me too, sinze I'm writing dialogue for a Cockney girl with blue and purple hair for my children's book.

Argus Lou said...

Good on ya, Xeus. 'Ope yer writin' is as fun as y'are.

Xeus said...

Did you know Jerry found us a publisher? UK based. Friggin' great. Publisher wan's ter see ter manooscreep and I ain't written it finish'd yet. Let alone the 1st 3 chapters (those gotta change once ter book's finished, everybody knows that.)

Book fair's comin' up too. Grumble. Ain't got no manuscripts to show. But you can go. Think it's in Frankfurt. Jerry's going.

Argus Lou said...

Crikey! Bother 'n' strife! My chil'ren's novel has, what, five dog-gang chapters and ground to a friggin' halt. How?

Methinks me goin' ta put me loaf of bread (that's me head) inta the blinkin' gas oven. I've got muffins for brains!

Xeus said...

The 'crikey' guy is dead. Sniff. Got hisself stung by one of them stingray buggers.

My old living-room

My old living-room
In Petaling Jaya, Malaysia

A cherished dream

A cherished dream
To live on a pale beach by a crystal clear sea. (This was taken on the east coast of Johor state, Malaysia.)

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