Because why the hell not?
Seriously though, seeing all this hoopla about Monster Hunter 4, it kinda reminded me of seeing a guy go through a massive break-up. Which then gave me an itch to do some writing, and put a creative, anthropomorphised (ie, turning it into people) spin on the whole thing.
So without further ado, I present to you my radio play, Mona Hunter goes Forth. A cutting modern drama in the style of The Archers about life, love and grief, which I plan on selling to BBC Radio 4 as soon as possible.
Mona Hunter goes Forth
Piers Three- a young businessman who has managed to establish a good career in electronics for himself, despite less than glorious beginnings.
Sonny Vita- his younger brother, currently unemployed, and who is experiencing a break-up which forms the narrative backbone of the piece.
*The scene opens to the quiet everyday sounds of a South London suburb. We hear the rumble of an occasional taxi, the chatter of families out and about, and the sound of a nearby railway line. We then hear the clatter of footsteps on concrete, and the ring of a doorbell, as Piers arrives at the door of his brother's house. Sonny arrives at the door, evidently hung-over by his mumbling tone*
Sonny Vita: ...Piers?
Piers Three: Alright there Sonny? Just thought I'd swing by and see how my younger brother is doing. Old Mum said I should check up on you. Said she spoke to you on the phone yesterday and you didn't sound so good.
SV: What? I'm... I'm fine, honestly. You know what old Mum's like. Look, come in, I was going to make some tea anyway...
*We hear the sound of a kettle boiling, mugs being stirred*
PT: ...So, you were saying?
SV: Look, I know Old Mum's worried about me, but seriously, I'm OK. I'm fine.
PT: Hmm... Morbidly hungover is a strange definition of fine, Sonny. Meet up with the lads last night?
SV: I... Yeah, no... I, I might have had a few drinks before I went to bed last night. You know, a whiskey or two just to help me sleep.
PT: A whiskey or two? I'd hope it takes more than a whiskey or two to get you in such a state. How much really Sonny?
SV: ...erm.... well... about two-thirds of a bottle, Piers.
PT: Good grief! Sonny Vita, you have got to pull yourself together! I've seen bad break-ups before, but you're letting this break-up with Mona Hunter ruin you!
SV: I'm fine!
PT: You keep saying that Sonny, but two thirds a bottle of whiskey is not fine!
SV: No, seriously, I'm fine. I'm totally over Mona now. Totally. I mean, I know we were on-off for a while, but I've met some new girls now. Totally hot bitches, you know? Who needs stuffy old Mona Hunter anymore?
PT: ...new... bitches?
SV: Yeah! Look, I left them upstairs, I'll go wake them up and introduce you. Hang on...
*We hear the sounds of rustling, and cupboard doors being opened*
SV: See? Here they are. Say hello to Sally Sacrifice.
PT: Sonny, that's...
SV: And this lovely lady right here is Regina Rock-Odyssey.
PT: ...Sonny, she's...
SV: And here we have Miss Toki Den.
PT: I... erm...
SV: And last but by no means least, this sexy little thing here is Godetta Twoo.
SV: See? All the bitches.
PT: Sonny, these are all inflatable sex dolls you've dressed up to look like Mona Hunter.
PT: Look, you've given them the same hair colour, the same lipstick... Christ, they're even wearing her clothes. I mean, yeah you've given Sally Sacrifice a wizard hat and a magic book, but she still looks like an inflatable Mona. You need to get over her Sonny Vita! You need to start seeing other girls.
SV: I am seeing other girls!
PT: Like who?
SV: Well... Minnie Craft.
PT: Minnie Craft?!? Minnie Craft's a slapper who'll sleep with anyone who gets her a free drink. I saw her get with Fredbox Three-Sixty just the other week. I'm pretty sure she's shagging Andrew Roid now.
SV: Ok, well... Dragona Crown!
PT: You'd better bloody not be seeing Dragona Crown!
SV: Why not?
PT Because I am seeing Dragona Crown! We're meeting up for lunch tomorrow afternoon, in fact.
SV: Damn! Well, what about Persephone Fore-Gilden?
PT: Persephone Fore-Gilden is old enough to be your grandmother Sonny. She was around during Uncle Piers Pete's time.
SV: But she knows what I like, and does stuff for me that she'd never do for anyone else.
PT: Come on Sonny Vita, you need to find a girl who's not going to sleep around on you. Someone your age who'll stay with you and only you. What about that nice looking girl you were talking about the other day? Terra Way or something.
SV: But she's sooooo quiet. I mean, yeah she's pretty, but she never says anything. She comes over, and it's like she's not even here at all. How am I supposed to know she's here if she doesn't even bloody announce it?
PT: Alright, well what about that other girl? The one with the huge bazookas? Kelly Zone, was it?
SV: You already dated her sisters Piers! Both of them! That hardly makes things easy for me does it?!
PT: Well, all I know is that you just don't seem to want to make the effort Sonny. All you do anymore is sit around watching telly.
SV: I like watching telly! It's better than having to go out somewhere and waste money on stupid drinks to chat up stupid women who aren't stupid Mona bloody Hunter, with her stupid new boyfriend!
PT: Come again?
SV: She's got a new boyfriend. I spoke to her the other day. Just gave her a call to see how she was, you know? She's seeing that guy. You remember the one we used to make fun of, with the stupid name? Ned Tendo Freddie-Essen! Apparently he's now a millionaire, and can give her everything she ever wanted,
PT: Look, Sonny Vita, I'm sorry, but you have to-
SV: He makes more in a day than I've made in my entire life! How can I compete with that? Makes millions every day in Japan. He doesn't have my perfectly formed body, or my nice behind, or my superior brainpower, but he's got money, and apparently that's all the bitches want anymore. Well fuck 'em. I don't need bitches! I don't need money! I'm perfect just the way I am. As long as I've got my telly, I'm happy!
PT: You really like your telly, Sonny Vita?
SV: Damn right I do Piers Three. Telly doesn't turn around and stab you in the back, then laugh as you slowly crawl heartbroken into the gutter, then take a shit on you while you're lying there waiting to die. Telly understands. Telly understands...
PT: Well look, I might have an idea. Something to do with telly, and something that'll get you off your backside and actually into a job. God only knows you need one.
SV: Oh? What's that?
PT: I'm getting a promotion at work soon. Things have really turned around at the company, and the boss is saying it's thanks to yours truly. The old Piers Three you knew is going up in the world. I'm getting a new department, a new title, and I might need an assistant. Someone who can help us move back into the telly department, and who can act as a general assistant. Someone who can get out and about, and carry my orders remotely, if you will.
SV: You think that could be me?
PT: I know it could be you, Sonny Vita. We need someone to plug our TV department and stop those bastards at Apple having all the fun, and you're just the guy to do it. It's a growth market, one with tons of potential to expand. Good pay, free gym membership, and all that. The only condition is, you have to stop moping around like a neutered cocker spaniel and get the hell over Mona Hunter. I mean it. I don't want to hear anything about her. Think you can do it?
SV: ...I guess. I mean, yes. Yes! Damn straight I can!
PT: That's the spirit. Daddy Piers Two would be proud. Come on. We've got something new and interesting in the works I want to show you, and deep down I think you'll have just the knack for it. Could make the company pretty infamous if it takes off.
SV: You mean now?
PT: Why wait? Come along Sonny Vita. Greatness awaits, after all.
Will Sonny Vita make a splash in the TV department? Will he finally be able to get over Mona Hunter? Is there a girl out there who'll prove to be the One for him? Find out in Act 2, due to be written about a year or so for now.
*Written entirely for fun, anyone who takes this as an effort by me to bash Sony, Nintendo or Capcom, kindly go suck a tailpipe and save us all the petty arguing.*