The Backstoryteller

V/O We now return to the tales of…the storyteller

(old man sits by fire with Pipe telling a scary tale)

Storyteller: A flash of thunder…the crash of lightning, it was a night no one would forget. As Peter headed up the steps to the front door he carried in his hands the fate of the world. If he did not deliver this message to Doctor Jackson then all hope would be lost.

(storyteller is interrupted by a second storyteller on stage)

Intruder: Frank Jackson had not always wished to be a doctor, as a child he had dreamed of being a singer, swooning women with Moon River or When I Fall in Love .His mother had always sung him that song as a lullabye as he went to sleep.

Storyteller: (pause) Doctor Jackson hearing the loud knocking came to the door of his old Victorian house

Intruder: He’d build this house years earlier with the help of Sanchez the local town drunk, a man who had loved and lost his family in a bizarre drowning.

Storyteller: Look I’m trying to tell a story here, who are you?

Intruder: I…am the backstoryteller.

Storyteller: Fine. So Peter..

Intruder: who had preferred go by his middle name Brian as a younger man but no longer.

Storyteller: Look what’s the point of what you’re doing?

Intruder: It tells people about the past and the memories people carry with them.

Storyteller: Yes but its not relevant.

Intruder: I think it’s very relevant in the context of….murder.

Storyteller: Peter doesn’t murder anyone.

Intruder: But his uncle Moriarty had witnessed a murder as a young man which scared him deeply and he always carried that pain with him.

Storyteller: (Trying to carry on) On this dark and stormy night no-one could possibly know the burden that Peter now bore.

Intruder: Except for Diago… a man who had carried a dark secret…

Storyteller: Diago? That sounds interesting.

Intruder: to his grave some 135 years before Peters birth. It bears no significance here.

Storyteller: Oh shut up. Peter carried a most urgent message on the paper in his hands.

Intruder: The word paper derives from the Greek term papyrus, which was produced as early as 3500 BC in Egypt…

Storyteller: The fate of the entire people of the world was on his shoulders.

Intruder: He had injured his left shoulder in a game of rugby 3 summers earlier…

Storyteller: Look I’m trying to tell them that there’s a killer virus and Peter is the chosen one! (pause) Look what you made me do! The story is ruined now.

Intruder: It was not the first time that he had screwed up. His entire life had been a series of mistakes ever since his 1st wife left him for another woman.

Storyteller: Oh stop!

Storyteller: With his work done the backstoryteller...he had always been victorious, the first time was 20 years ago