Dilemma

Yesterday, I started penning a submission for an upcoming writing group meeting. A yarn which, although having potential as a short story, for various reasons I am not going to complete.

The prompt topic for next Wednesday’s tale was cinema. Initial thoughts leading to me begin writing a story about a small local movie theatre. The plotline revolving around a management contingency plan to mitigate against a jammed screen safety curtain. An issue rendering the screen out of order.

This cunning ploy by the theatre’s hierarchy being to seat regular customer Frank Fortes on the front row. The rotund chap with an insatiable appetite, dressed in a white shirt, plied with dozens of hot dogs while the movie is surreptitiously projected onto his chaste shirt’s back.

Distracted by the free tuck, Mr Fortes is totally oblivious to the audience reactions while they watch the movie play out on his broad upper torso.

Although, I thought the idea was a reasonably humorous notion, yours truly was wracked with indecision as to where it would sit in the minefield of what are deemed acceptable japes. And what is too cruel to air.

To my mind the idea was much funnier when playing out if Frank Fortes was not in on the gag. A plot where a gluttonous fella is distracted by free food so, unbeknown to him, a movie could be projected on his white shirted back funnier than if he consented to the episode.

If I wrote the scene with Frank knowing about this skulduggery (ie, it was consensual) it is clearly less cruel. A plotline which would sit better with the more woke among us. However, in my opinion, that option makes the whimsy less of a whizzbang; diluting its comedic value.

Not knowing if this would cross a fat shaming boundary, and keen to avoid offending anyone, I decided to not complete the scene. GJ Strachan concluding (even though it is purely fictional) the fat shaming element of the narrative may expose him to a woke mob lynching.

At this juncture, I’d like it on record that I judge people on how they treat others (including me), not what they look like, creed, colour, race or sexuality. Additionally, I hate to see any person or animal in distress (either physically or mentally).

There are many ideas for a short story or scene I ditch because of uncertainty if it will offend. For instance, last year I baulked on journaling an idea for a Channel 5 reality show called ‘Camper Man in a Campervan’. A broadcast showing TV personality Louis Spence highlighting the UK’s beautiful UK scenery while touring in a campervan. Spence’s over the top campness fitting well within the title, or at least so I thought.

The above idea not homophobic in the slightest, but with the title potentially offensive to some, I decided against spending valuable time expanding on how I saw the shows format would play out. 

Incidentally, I know by sharing the above ideas I am contradicting my claim I’d abandoned the Frank Fortes and Louis Spence ideas as fit for publication… Mi bad!!

Anyhow, I’ll conclude this piece by sharing the remaining literary fingerprints I left on an already grubby window frame which was the tale of Frank Fortes: –

At 19st 7lb, Frank knew he was overweight. A contributing factor being his daily desire to munch his way through all the fodder referenced in Lionel Bart’s song ‘Food, Glorious Food’. 

The refrain from his favourite musical movie Oliver, would have made an apt theme tune at the start of every morning. Music to accompany the sound of his talking scales habitual greeting of “One at a time, please!” during his early morning weigh-in.

Sometimes. I guess, you must take risks for your art… Don’t judge me!