Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-02-04 09:50 am
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-02-04 09:50 am
Entry tags:
The Themes Of This Entry Are Unexpectedly Successful Plays And Being Cast As A Dog.
By this point, I've stopped even pretending to think about other fandoms. Have ten more tiny Goes Wrong Show ficlets for the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
threesentenceficathon. Most of these are actually three sentences, at least!
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 270 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'trying not to cry'.
“For God’s sake, Chris, this is pathetic. Any directorial debut is bound to have a few issues.”
“A few issues?” Chris echoes, raising his head to stare at Robert. “Did you see anything that just happened out on that stage?”
“Yes, well, hard not to,” Robert says. “But there’s no point in sitting around crying about it.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re not even doing it properly. I’m not seeing any actual tears. An audience would have no idea how to read your emotions, you know.”
“You managed it,” Chris says, through gritted teeth.
“I’m very attuned to nuance, Chris. You simply cannot hold the theatregoing public to the same standard.”
“Please,” Chris says, “leave me alone. I tried to put on a play. It was a disaster. It’s as simple as that.”
Robert folds his arms. “Very defeatist attitude.”
“Perhaps I’ve been defeated.”
“There’s always the next night, you know.”
The next night. God, they’re going to have to do this again.
“Look,” Robert says, “I can assure you that tomorrow’s performance will go much more smoothly.”
Chris closes his eyes, massages his temples. “Thank you, Robert, but you simply don’t know that.”
“I’ll be directing, after all.”
Chris looks very sharply at him.
“You absolutely will not,” he says.
“Of course I will,” Robert says. “You’ve made it clear you’re not up to the task of bringing this story to the stage. As the leading actor and a lover of theatre, it’s my duty to step in and—”
“You will not,” Chris says. “Gather everyone in the rehearsal room immediately. We’re going to be word-perfect by tomorrow.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris, 70 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'one letter off'.
“Good evening, and thank you for coming,” Chris says, smiling at the audience. “One small note: there’s been a minor typographical error in some of our promotional materials, so I’m afraid we will not be performing the listed play of Hamlet. But I’m sure you’ll still enjoy our production of Hamget, the tale of an indecisive young man going to the supermarket to buy some ham.”
The Goes Wrong Show, ensemble, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'the calm AFTER the storm'.
It’s not really their job, as the actors, but they’ve all got into the habit of helping to clear the debris off the stage after each performance: a time of quiet, regretful reflection on the latest disastrous evening.
“It was better, that night; the audience hardly threw anything at us at all,” Annie says, once.
She’s right, that’s the thing, and they all start finding the positives in each post-performance clearup after that: nothing caught fire even slightly, Dennis remembered a whole two of his lines, Jonathan only almost died.
The Goes Wrong Show, 60 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'make your second sentence exactly 3 words long'.
There’s a kind of awed tension among the actors as they approach the climax, a collective holding of breath: this play is going well, this might actually be the Cornley Drama Society’s first-ever perfect performance.
The theatre explodes.
If you discount that blip in the final scene, though, the evening is a triumph; it’s a shame the reviewer in attendance is among the casualties.
The Goes Wrong Show, 40 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'The King in Yellow'.
It’s extraordinary; they’ve finally found a play that the company can manage without issue. Every performance of The King in Yellow has gone off without a hitch. It’s just a shame that the response of the audience is always so strange and disappointing.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 190 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'morning after'.
Chris half-wakes to the sense that something horrible happened last night: a feeling he is, by this point, deeply familiar with. Of course something horrible happened; we put on a play, he tells himself, rolling over in bed and—
And into a living body.
There is someone in his bed.
Chris’s eyes snap open, and he finds himself instantly and unmistakably confronted by Robert Grove, naked as the day he came in to audition for the role of the Grinch.
“Oh, God,” Chris says.
Robert looks slightly put out. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Robert,” Chris says, scrambling through his mind in desperate search of some sort of clear recollection, “did we sleep together?”
“I mean, literally, obviously,” Robert says. “In the euphemistic sense, I don’t think we actually got around to the act. There was a disagreement over who’d be on top, as I recall, lasting several hours.”
That’s a relief. It’s still a little unsettling, of course; he’s come entirely too close to sex with Robert for comfort. But it was a temporary lapse of judgement, that’s all; a brief episode of insanity.
He doesn’t have to worry about this, surely.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt "You bit me!"
"If you didn't want me to bite you, Chris," Robert says, "why would you keep casting me as dogs?"
"If I wanted you to bite me," Chris says tightly, cradling his hand, "don't you think I might have included it in the stage directions?"
The next evening, when they reach that point in the performance, Chris is ready for it; it's satisfying to sink his teeth into Robert in return, although there is some confusion amongst the audience when the dog's owner swiftly bites back.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert/Chris, 120 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'what i do when i'm blackout drunk is none of my business'.
"Interesting conversation last night," Chris says, carefully. "You said you were in love with me."
"Oh," Robert says, perfectly calm, "no, no, no. I was intoxicated. It doesn't count."
Chris lets out a breath. He knew it was probably nothing, of course, but some part of him was still a little concerned. "It was a joke, I suppose."
"It doesn't count as my confession, I mean," Robert says. "I've got a much more impressive one planned. There's a three-hour script; there are doves involved. I'd advise you to clear your mind of anything I might have said for the full effect."
Chris stares at him.
Clearing his mind is, he suspects, going to be quite a task.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/everyone, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'in your life, what has been your biggest reason to celebrate? What did you do?'
The play went well, it went well, a few minor slipups but nothing outrageous; they put on a competent show, and Chris takes a bow alongside his fellow performers, buzzing with incredulous joy.
An instant later, Robert seizes him and kisses him, passionately, with tongue.
Chris stumbles back, staring, half a dozen questions suddenly in his throat – but then all the others kiss him too, and eventually he starts to feel that he might as well kiss back.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert and Max, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'what is the most drastic thing you've done in your life so far? Why?'
Robert is permitted to take the director's reins in their production of The Odyssey, and he is determined to make it a triumph; he personally oversees the construction of every prop and the training of every actor, and, all things considered, the show itself is going very well.
And then Max, in the decidedly non-speaking, non-bipedal role of Argos the dog, stands up and opens his mouth.
"In hindsight," Robert will tell a court of law later, "I probably shouldn't have shot him."
Poking through bits of the script for the stage version of Peter Pan Goes Wrong, I was intrigued to discover one particular tiny segment. Robert, playing Nana the dog, is trapped in the dog door, meaning he's nowhere near the human characters when they start complaining that he's getting fur on them. Naturally, they come up with the sanest possible solution:
Chris: Oh, you useless animal! You've got dog hairs all over my trousers!
(He goes over to Robert and rubs his trousers over him.)
Sandra: Silly hound! You've got hair all over everyone.
(They all rub themselves on Robert.)
Tragically, this did not make it into the television cut! HOWEVER, I'm delighted to find there is a three-second 'Robert on his hands and knees while Sandra rubs herself against his beard' clip from rehearsals floating around, which you can find here on Tumblr if you're as normal about Robert Grove as I am.
threesentenceficathon. Most of these are actually three sentences, at least!The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 270 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'trying not to cry'.
“For God’s sake, Chris, this is pathetic. Any directorial debut is bound to have a few issues.”
“A few issues?” Chris echoes, raising his head to stare at Robert. “Did you see anything that just happened out on that stage?”
“Yes, well, hard not to,” Robert says. “But there’s no point in sitting around crying about it.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re not even doing it properly. I’m not seeing any actual tears. An audience would have no idea how to read your emotions, you know.”
“You managed it,” Chris says, through gritted teeth.
“I’m very attuned to nuance, Chris. You simply cannot hold the theatregoing public to the same standard.”
“Please,” Chris says, “leave me alone. I tried to put on a play. It was a disaster. It’s as simple as that.”
Robert folds his arms. “Very defeatist attitude.”
“Perhaps I’ve been defeated.”
“There’s always the next night, you know.”
The next night. God, they’re going to have to do this again.
“Look,” Robert says, “I can assure you that tomorrow’s performance will go much more smoothly.”
Chris closes his eyes, massages his temples. “Thank you, Robert, but you simply don’t know that.”
“I’ll be directing, after all.”
Chris looks very sharply at him.
“You absolutely will not,” he says.
“Of course I will,” Robert says. “You’ve made it clear you’re not up to the task of bringing this story to the stage. As the leading actor and a lover of theatre, it’s my duty to step in and—”
“You will not,” Chris says. “Gather everyone in the rehearsal room immediately. We’re going to be word-perfect by tomorrow.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris, 70 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'one letter off'.
“Good evening, and thank you for coming,” Chris says, smiling at the audience. “One small note: there’s been a minor typographical error in some of our promotional materials, so I’m afraid we will not be performing the listed play of Hamlet. But I’m sure you’ll still enjoy our production of Hamget, the tale of an indecisive young man going to the supermarket to buy some ham.”
The Goes Wrong Show, ensemble, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'the calm AFTER the storm'.
It’s not really their job, as the actors, but they’ve all got into the habit of helping to clear the debris off the stage after each performance: a time of quiet, regretful reflection on the latest disastrous evening.
“It was better, that night; the audience hardly threw anything at us at all,” Annie says, once.
She’s right, that’s the thing, and they all start finding the positives in each post-performance clearup after that: nothing caught fire even slightly, Dennis remembered a whole two of his lines, Jonathan only almost died.
The Goes Wrong Show, 60 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'make your second sentence exactly 3 words long'.
There’s a kind of awed tension among the actors as they approach the climax, a collective holding of breath: this play is going well, this might actually be the Cornley Drama Society’s first-ever perfect performance.
The theatre explodes.
If you discount that blip in the final scene, though, the evening is a triumph; it’s a shame the reviewer in attendance is among the casualties.
The Goes Wrong Show, 40 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'The King in Yellow'.
It’s extraordinary; they’ve finally found a play that the company can manage without issue. Every performance of The King in Yellow has gone off without a hitch. It’s just a shame that the response of the audience is always so strange and disappointing.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 190 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'morning after'.
Chris half-wakes to the sense that something horrible happened last night: a feeling he is, by this point, deeply familiar with. Of course something horrible happened; we put on a play, he tells himself, rolling over in bed and—
And into a living body.
There is someone in his bed.
Chris’s eyes snap open, and he finds himself instantly and unmistakably confronted by Robert Grove, naked as the day he came in to audition for the role of the Grinch.
“Oh, God,” Chris says.
Robert looks slightly put out. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Robert,” Chris says, scrambling through his mind in desperate search of some sort of clear recollection, “did we sleep together?”
“I mean, literally, obviously,” Robert says. “In the euphemistic sense, I don’t think we actually got around to the act. There was a disagreement over who’d be on top, as I recall, lasting several hours.”
That’s a relief. It’s still a little unsettling, of course; he’s come entirely too close to sex with Robert for comfort. But it was a temporary lapse of judgement, that’s all; a brief episode of insanity.
He doesn’t have to worry about this, surely.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt "You bit me!"
"If you didn't want me to bite you, Chris," Robert says, "why would you keep casting me as dogs?"
"If I wanted you to bite me," Chris says tightly, cradling his hand, "don't you think I might have included it in the stage directions?"
The next evening, when they reach that point in the performance, Chris is ready for it; it's satisfying to sink his teeth into Robert in return, although there is some confusion amongst the audience when the dog's owner swiftly bites back.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert/Chris, 120 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'what i do when i'm blackout drunk is none of my business'.
"Interesting conversation last night," Chris says, carefully. "You said you were in love with me."
"Oh," Robert says, perfectly calm, "no, no, no. I was intoxicated. It doesn't count."
Chris lets out a breath. He knew it was probably nothing, of course, but some part of him was still a little concerned. "It was a joke, I suppose."
"It doesn't count as my confession, I mean," Robert says. "I've got a much more impressive one planned. There's a three-hour script; there are doves involved. I'd advise you to clear your mind of anything I might have said for the full effect."
Chris stares at him.
Clearing his mind is, he suspects, going to be quite a task.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/everyone, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'in your life, what has been your biggest reason to celebrate? What did you do?'
The play went well, it went well, a few minor slipups but nothing outrageous; they put on a competent show, and Chris takes a bow alongside his fellow performers, buzzing with incredulous joy.
An instant later, Robert seizes him and kisses him, passionately, with tongue.
Chris stumbles back, staring, half a dozen questions suddenly in his throat – but then all the others kiss him too, and eventually he starts to feel that he might as well kiss back.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert and Max, 80 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'what is the most drastic thing you've done in your life so far? Why?'
Robert is permitted to take the director's reins in their production of The Odyssey, and he is determined to make it a triumph; he personally oversees the construction of every prop and the training of every actor, and, all things considered, the show itself is going very well.
And then Max, in the decidedly non-speaking, non-bipedal role of Argos the dog, stands up and opens his mouth.
"In hindsight," Robert will tell a court of law later, "I probably shouldn't have shot him."
Poking through bits of the script for the stage version of Peter Pan Goes Wrong, I was intrigued to discover one particular tiny segment. Robert, playing Nana the dog, is trapped in the dog door, meaning he's nowhere near the human characters when they start complaining that he's getting fur on them. Naturally, they come up with the sanest possible solution:
Chris: Oh, you useless animal! You've got dog hairs all over my trousers!
(He goes over to Robert and rubs his trousers over him.)
Sandra: Silly hound! You've got hair all over everyone.
(They all rub themselves on Robert.)
Tragically, this did not make it into the television cut! HOWEVER, I'm delighted to find there is a three-second 'Robert on his hands and knees while Sandra rubs herself against his beard' clip from rehearsals floating around, which you can find here on Tumblr if you're as normal about Robert Grove as I am.
no subject
AHAHA! That whole ficlet is amazing, and my other favorite is Robert wanting a redo of the insufficient confession of love (with a proper one involving a three-hour script and doves) -- that sounds 100% like something Robert would do.
(They all rub themselves on Robert.)
That... sure is a thing XD
(I have now finished the show. Thank you for being the gateway to this delightful madness :)
no subject
(I'm so glad you enjoyed it! ♥)
no subject
Unfortunately accurate statement.
“You will not,” Chris says. “Gather everyone in the rehearsal room immediately. We’re going to be word-perfect by tomorrow.”
I love their whatever the fuck is wrong with them.
But I’m sure you’ll still enjoy our production of Hamget, the tale of an indecisive young man going to the supermarket to buy some ham.
Ao; dvsh dvoagsvoagvad
Jonathan only almost died.
Incredible
The theatre explodes.
AMAZINg.
Every performance of The King in Yellow has gone off without a hitch. It’s just a shame that the response of the audience is always so strange and disappointing.
Hahsuoa; gcilaugcaca Oh ohoho
“In the euphemistic sense, I don’t think we actually got around to the act. There was a disagreement over who’d be on top, as I recall, lasting several hours.”
Yesssssss.
"If you didn't want me to bite you, Chris," Robert says, "why would you keep casting me as dogs?"
What a very excellent question that deserves further exploration.
"It doesn't count as my confession, I mean," Robert says. "I've got a much more impressive one planned. There's a three-hour script; there are doves involved. I'd advise you to clear your mind of anything I might have said for the full effect."
You paint such a glorious picture of this man.
"In hindsight," Robert will tell a court of law later, "I probably shouldn't have shot him."
It's fine it's fine if there's a single director on the jury they'll understand.
no subject
They're so weird! They're so weird, and they just make each other weirder. It's beautiful.
I'm glad you enjoyed Hamget! I hesitated slightly over posting that one because it was just so stupid.
We've only seen you direct thirteen plays, Chris; it's weird that you cast Robert as a dog in two of them! That's a 15% Robert-as-a-dog ratio!
You paint such a glorious picture of this man.
I'm so pleased. He'd accept nothing less.
no subject
The most Robert response!
Brilliant!
This suggests that Jonathan is either in a drummer-from-Spinal-Tap situation where various Jonathans keep dying and getting replaced, or he's died and resurrected between performances.
Perfect!
I love everything about how you write Robert!
That is a very Robert argument!
Oh, that sounds exactly like something from one of your fic!
no subject
Heaven keeps sending him back because he can't get through the pearly gates.
I love everything about how you write Robert!
He's so much fun to write! He reminds me very fondly of writing for Jeremy Clarkson back in the day; they're both big, loud, ridiculous characters blithely causing problems for everyone around them.
Getting everyone to rub themselves on Robert is the main aim of most of my Goes Wrong fanfiction, I'll be honest.
no subject
(Anonymous) 2026-02-05 02:55 am (UTC)(link)Mysterious power outages traced back to West London theatre
Avant-garde play Hamget is a smash hit
Workplace accident insurance premiums rise to record levels
Six dead after explosion, ruled no-fault: "It was a Rube-Goldberg of events!"
Naked man stranded after calamitous auditoning
Local play beloved by pet supply company
Theatre troupe banned for life from bar
Random shooter explains his motivations, "He looked like a werewolf."
no subject