EPISODE 3: “fighting irish” 

CREDITS:

Samantha Gordon — Carlötta Beautox. Trevor Lissauer — Dave and Irish Parishioner David Allen — Irish Priest

Aleksandra Kaniak — Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy Chelsea Kwoka — Tiffani

Theme Song composed by Jesse Billson for Sonic Librarian.

Carlötta's up for a movie role but the part requires an Irish accent. Only problem? She's not Irish. Luckily, her manager Dave had a great solution and the Emerald Isle will never be the same.

“Fighting Irish”

CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) An acting coach once told me that to really understand a character you have to climb into their skin and walk around in it. Ew. Just ew.  Welcome to The Carlötta Beautox Chronicles.

 

                     THEME SONG

                     SOUND OF PEN SCRATCHING ALONG ON PAPER

CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) Dear Diary, casting is underway for a  new Colin Farrell movie called EXTREME ABSOLUTION. It’s the story of a deranged Irish priest who goes on a murder rampage in his confessional booth.

                     WHOOSH SFX

 

IRISH MAN:          (Movie clip): Bless me father for I have sinned, it has been 5 months since my last confession.

COLIN FARRELL:      Say 2 hail Marys and prepare to eat lead!

                    

GUNSHOT SOUND EFFECTS

 

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) Anyways, they are looking for a lady church-goer and the part requires an Irish accent.  Now, I know Hollywood has a terrible history of casting actors across racial lines—and I wanted to be sensitive to it. Should I go out for an Irish role when Kitty Kinicki (that’s my real name) isn’t Irish? Like black face and yellow face, would I be accused of “freckle-face”? That could wreak havoc with my Instagram account. Luckily, my manager Dave had a great solution.

 

DAVE:               Take one of them DNA tests. 

CARLÖTTA:           How’s that gonna help?

DAVE:               It’ll tell you your background, maybe ease your conscience. You find out you got a drop of Irish, you’re good to go. We’re all mutts you know, Lottie.

 CARLÖTTA:           Maybe.

 DAVE:               Maybe nothing. Let’s both do it. I’ve been wondering where I get my good looks. I feel like I got some Greek in there somewhere. Definitely Italian. Maybe Brazilian.

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) So Dave and I did it. We swabbed the insides of our mouths.

 DAVE:               Say “ah”

 CARLÖTTA:           Ahhhhh.

 DAVE:               Got it. 

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) And we sent our DNA off to be analyzed. Not long after that…

 

                     CYMBAL ROLL TAKES US TO THE FUTURE, KNOCKING ON THE DOOR

 

DAVE:               Lottie! Lottie! Open up.

 CARLÖTTA:           Ok, keep your shirt on, Dave.

 

                     FOOTSTEPS, A DOOR OPENS

 

DAVE:               Ta-da! I hold in my Grecian hands, our DNA results!

 CARLÖTTA:           Oh, how exciting! I bet I have Egyptian. A past life therapist once told me I was Cleopatra reincarnated.

 DAVE:               Eye on the prize, Lottie. You just have to hope there’s a drop of Irish.

 

ENVELOPES RIPPING OPEN, PAPER RUSTLING.

 

DAVE:               OK, whaddya got?

CARLÖTTA:           Well, let’s see. Boy there’s a lot. Albanian, Algerian, Bolivian, Canadian, Danish…

DAVE:               Skip down to the I’s. 

CARLÖTTA:           Here it is! Irish! Oh. It’s only 2%. 

DAVE:               Hey 2% milk is still 100% milk, right? 

CARLÖTTA:           Wow. I hadn’t thought about it that way.

DAVE:               2% is enough to give you street cred to do this Irish part. 

CARLÖTTA:           Yeah, no one’ll accuse me of cultural appropriation now. How about yours? Any Greek? 

 

                     SOUND OF RUSTLING PAPERS

 

DAVE:               Well, let’s see. No, no Greek. No Italian, No Brazilian…hmm.

CARLÖTTA:           Whattya got?

DAVE:               I got Neanderthal.

CARLÖTTA:           No kidding? That’s interesting. What else? 

DAVE:               That’s it. Just Neanderthal.

CARLÖTTA:           That can’t be right. On the other hand, it  does explain the toe knuckle hair.

DAVE:               I guess I’m a purebred, right? Hundred percent.

CARLÖTTA:           Sure, that’s a way to spin it. But getting back to me--I’m gonna go up for this Irish role.

DAVE:               Cool. Cool.

CARLÖTTA:           Only thing: the Irish accent.

DAVE:               What about it?

CARLÖTTA:           I don’t know how to do it.

DAVE:               How can you not know how to do an Irish accent? It’s one of the easier ones. (Bad Irish) “I love my Lucky Charms, they’re magically delicious!” Remember those commercials?

CARLÖTTA:           (Bad Irish) They’re magically delicious!Did that sound Irish?

DAVE:               Sounded more head trauma than Irish.

CARLÖTTA:           Crap.

DAVE:               Not to worry. I’ll find you a dialect coach. They’ll help you work it out. Meanwhile bone up on Irish Spring commercials on YouTube. 

 

                     BAGPIPE AND TIN HORN MUSIC BEGINS

 DAVE:               (Bad Irish) “Look at these green and white stripes with 2 deodorants to make a manly man fresh and clean.”(Bad Irish Falsetto) “Manly yes, but I like it too!”

 CARLÖTTA:           Hmm. You’re sure that’s not racially insensitive? It’s sounds a little…

 DAVE:               How can I be racist? I’m Neanderthal. We were here before anybody.

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) So Diary, I let Dave do his manager thing and he did come through.

 

                     IPHONE RINGING SFX

CARLÖTTA:           Hi Dave.

DAVE:               (on phone) Listen Lottie! I found you a dialect coach. Very reasonable price on Craig’s List.

CARLÖTTA:           Craig’s List?

DAVE:               She comes highly recommended. She goes by the name, get this: “Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy”. 

CARLÖTTA:           Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy. Well, that does sound pretty Irish, I guess.

DAVE:               (Bad Irish) More Irish than a Leprechaun finding his pot of gold!I’ll DM you the address. Your appointment’s tomorrow. (Bad Irish) Good luck of the Irish to you, lassie.

CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) So dear Diary, I decided to give the dialect coach a go. It can’t hurt, right? 

 

                     OUTSIDE AMBIANCE, TRAFFIC

                     SOUNDS OF FEET WALKING ON PAVEMENT

 

CARLÖTTA:           Let’s see. 9611, 9613, oh, here it is: 9615 North Gower. The Dialect Academy of Hollywood. Hm. Doesn’t look like much, I don’t know.

CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) Diary, there I was, reverting to my old bad habit of judging and self-doubt. My personal swami and lifestyle guru, Tiffani, would scold me if she could have heard me. She’s this, like, super old soul who studied in India with this famous maharishi. She travels on astral planes and everything. She practices “Wisdom Zaps” which are these mind-blowing, centuries old teachings that the ancients used to practice. She’d say “Do it, Carlötta. Just go for it. Don’t be a negative Nancy. Be a positive Patty.” I wondered if I should call her. Do an emergency sesh right there on the street.

 

IPHONE PUSHING BUTTONS, PHONE RINGING.

 TIFFANI:            Hello?

 

                     BACKGROUND MEDITATION MUSIC

CARLÖTTA:           Tiffani? It’s me. Carlötta. Can you squeeze me in for a real quick session? Right now? I’m kind of mid-crisis. 

TIFFANI:            Wow, Carlötta, you caught me in a semi-hypnagogic state, I am about to do some astral projection but, if you Venmo me 50 dollars, I’ll reenter my body and I’m all yours.

 

                     iPHONE BUTTONS BEEPING

 

CARLÖTTA:           Doing it…right….now! 

 

                     PING AND WHOOSH

 

CARLÖTTA:           Just went through.

 

                     PING!

 

 TIFFANI:            Got it. Woooooh!!! Ok I just teleported back inside my body. Now, what’s going on, doll?

CARLÖTTA:           (Pressured, near tears) I’m outside this dialect coach’s place…and there’s this gig I want…

TIFFANI:            (Impatient) Uh-huh, uh-huh.

CARLÖTTA:           And the place looks sketch…

TIFFANI:            Uh-huh, uh-huh.

CARLÖTTA:           And Dave set it up and…

TIFFANI:            Ok, got it. Right now? I want you to listen, Carlötta. You listening?

CARLÖTTA:           I am.

TIFFANI:            Listen and breathe. Are you doing that?

CARLÖTTA:           I am.

TIFFANI:            OK, are you read to be wisdom zapped?

CARLÖTTA:           I’m ready.

TIFFANI:            Here it comes: do it, Carlötta. Just go for it. Don’t be a negative Nancy. Be a positive Patty.

CARLÖTTA:           (Bursting into tears) Oh my God, Tiffani. You are the best. The best. 

TIFFANI:            I know, I know.

CARLÖTTA:           What would I do without you? 

TIFFANI:            You’d continue to be lost.

CARLÖTTA:           Thank you. Love you. You’re a life saver.

TIFFANI:            Ok, doll, gotta go.

CARLÖTTA:           Mwah.

 

                     PHONE CLICKS

  

CARLÖTTA:           (sniffling) Deep breath, deep breath, Carlötta, let’s do this.

                      FOOTSTEPS, DOORBELL RING

                     INTERCOM VOICE

 

 BRIDGET:            (Eastern European accent) Yes, may I help you?

 CARLÖTTA:           Hi. I’m Carlötta Beautox. I have an appointment. With Bridget?

 BRIDGET:            Yes, please come in.

 

                     DOOR BUZZES, DOOR OPENS

                     FOOTSTEPS, DOOR CLOSES

 

 BRIDGET:            Welcome, I am Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy.

 CARLÖTTA:           I’m sorry?

 BRIDGET:            I am Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy.

 CARLÖTTA:           You are?

 BRIDGET:            This is what I said, yes?

 CARLÖTTA:           Oh. Ok. Sorry. I thought…well I thought you’d be, you know, Irish.    

 BRIDGET:            What kind of question? Of course I’m Irish. You’ve come for Irish dialect coaching, yes? 

 CARLÖTTA:           Yeah, sure. It’s just that…

 BRIDGET:            Please. You want nice cuppa tea? A bit of Irish soda bread? It’s me grandmother’s recipe straight from County of Cork. It’s grand with a spot of marmalade. You would like?

 CARLÖTTA:           No thanks. It’s just that…did you grow up in, I don’t know, Eastern Europe or something?

 BRIDGET:            Eastern Europe? What would give you such a daft idea? My, you’re a bit of a wanker. Having a piss at my expense, are you?

CARLÖTTA:           I’m sorry. You just don’t sound like I expected.

BRIDGET:            Oh really? What did you expect? 

 CARLÖTTA:           Well…

 BRIDGET:            Please, please…indulge me.

 CARLÖTTA:           I thought maybe more like…(affecting Irish accent) ‘I love my Lucky Charms, they’re magically delicious.’

 BRIDGET:            Lucky Charms. Oh, ok, just a wee bit racist, right? What’s next, you ask me if I know any Leprechauns? Or, where is pot of gold, right? 

 CARLÖTTA:           I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Maybe we can start over, ok Bridget?

 BRIDGET:            It’s Bridget Mary Margaret.

 CARLÖTTA:           Bridget Mary Margaret.

 BRIDGET:            Ok, fine. Give me pages.

 CARLÖTTA:           Yes, my script pages. Here you go.

 

                     RUSTLING PAPERS

 

 

BRIDGET:            Ok, start at beginning. Let’s see where we are. And go.

 CARLÖTTA:           Yes, ahem, ok. (Irish accent) Bless me father for I have sinned.

 BRIDGET:            Stop. This is abortion. Listen and do like I do, ok?

 CARLÖTTA:           Yes, yes. Thank you.

 BRIDGET:            Bless me father…

 CARLÖTTA:           Bless me father…

 BRIDGET:            Faaaather.

 CARLÖTTA:           Faaaather. Bless me father.

 BRIDGET:            No. Listen: bless me father.

 CARLÖTTA:           Faaather.

 BRIDGET:            For I have sinned.

 CARLÖTTA:           For I have sinned.

 BRIDGET:            Sinned. Bless me father for I have sinned.

 CARLÖTTA:           Bless me father for I have sinned.

 BRIDGET:            No. Listen with ears. Bless me father.

 CARLÖTTA:           Bless me father.

 BRIDGET:            No. Hopeless. Hopeless. (Curses and rants in Polish) 

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) Well Diary, by the time my session with Bridget Mary Margaret ended I was well prepared for the Colin Farrell movie audition.

                     

                     FOOTSTEPS

CASTING DIRECTOR:   Ok, Carlötta…Beautox?

 

                     ASSORTED SNICKERS

 

CASTING DIRECTOR:   You are auditioning for female church-goer. Please begin when you’re ready.

 CARLÖTTA:           (Polish accent) Bless me father for I have sinned.

 CASTING DIRETOR:    Ok, uh, thank you. We’ll be in touch.

 CARLÖTTA:           Oh, that’s it? I can do more? Less? 

 CASTING DIRECTOR:   Less. Much less. Like, as in, no more.

 CARLÖTTA:           Ok…thanks.

 

                     FOOTSTEPS AND DOOR OPEN

 CARLÖTTA:           (V.O.) In the end, Diary, I didn’t get a callback for the Colin Farrell movie but it wasn’t a total loss. What I did get was a deeper appreciation of Irish culture from the Emerald Isle’s own Bridget Mary Margaret O’Shaughnessy.  While my session with her started out tense, we ended up pals after she busted out some Irish Whiskey. It was the weirdest whiskey I’d ever tasted: it was clear and tasted like vodka. Who knew? We got right and proper squiffy we did on this stuff. Squiffy. That’s some authentic Irish slang, right there. Ah well, Dear Diary, that’s it for today. Remind me to tell you about the time I broke into the makeup trailer of a major beloved American icon. Oops.

 

                     Toodles and mwah. Until next time.