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The World According to Bones

Posted by DCA Theater on April 28, 2012 in January - July 2012 Season, The Improv Play

Submitted by Bones, a character played by Kevin Anderson in InFusion Theatre Company‘s current production of The Improv Play at the DCA Storefront Theater

[Note: The character of Bones is described in the script as “a tragically inappropriate, gleefully self-obsessed character.”]

The World According to Bones: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Big Pecs: A Manifesto on Kissing and Talking with Tongue: And also Dix! ( + Improv)

In between bouts of my 3x a week Krav Maga classes, and my part time job at Snarf’s Sandwiches, lies the realm of my true passion. To say Improv is life and the rest is just details would do injustice to both Improv and my favorite 7th grade t-shirts. If I owned a T-shirt company (which I do, visit my kickstarter or my blog) the T-shirt would say ‘Improv is life and I love and hate that all at the same time.’ Improv is the life source, my bright light where my smoke monster is spawned. Without making up stupid stories and making people laugh, my existence would be that of the frog on the lily pad, jumping for no reason but to jump (much thanks to my life coach for that).

Ever since James Dellastritto kept flicking my ear on the bus and I said he should ‘watch out or ill give him an earful of #$!#,’ and everybody on the bus laughed, I became addicted to those breath expulsions/reactions. If I’m not making you laugh in a conversation, I’m failing. Why take things so seriously? I’ll stop laughing when I’m killed by a bunch of pirates on board the HMS Pinafore (my most likely death scenario). There is nothing quite like the feeling of pausing for a laugh. Or flipping a joke around from what you would expect. “Stop shaving that baby,” he said to the man cleaning an imaginary chalkboard. Get it?! It’s funny that a baby would be shaving considering I can’t even grow facial hair.

I also hate Improv more than anything. Who the F cares what I have to say to a priest about toothpaste in a submarine? I don’t. And F you audience for making me talk about that. I say F because my mom will most likely read this. Believe me, if I’m going to survive this pirate attack, you best believe I be cursing like a sailor. I’ve never known people like Chicago Improvisers. Generous, hilarious, warm, and welcoming, while simultaneously cut-throat, depressed, spiteful, critical, steam-rolling people-haters. Go to an Improv party, and try to get a joke into a conversation, and you’ll see.

In any case, I wish my Improv friends just had a crap-ton of money and we just lived in an Improv commune and constantly watched each other’s shows, while throwing lavish $500 bills and fresh mangos in reward for every good joke. But until that happens, at least come to my late-night-Improv-sketch-drinking-game-show called, Joke Daniels and a 40 year Barrel of Bourbon and Laughs. And remember: In the Game of Bones, you either win or you die. Or just live an existence where you work at Snarfs.