Drama In The Kitchen

Here's a new radio script because they are fun to write. I might get people far more skilled behind a microphone than me to perform them. Mind what happens in your kitchen...

SCENE BRIEFING
SETTING: A normal kitchen in a normal house in a normal city in England. 

CHARACTERS:

• NARRATOR: Middle-aged man who is a highly skilled storyteller.
• KEITH: A fast-boil kettle from up North.
• BRIAN: A fine porcelain butter dish, a bit posh.
• SARAH A teaspoon, bright, cheery and friendly

---

FX: The kitchen is quiet apart from a soft muttering voice.

NARRATOR:
If you are under the impression this story I am going to tell you is in any way strange, I suggest you leave a recorder in your kitchen tonight. This kitchen was calm and quiet on a Tuesday evening…

BRIAN:
(MUTTERING)
It’s not right, it really isn’t right at all! Not one bit!

(BEAT) 

BRIAN (CONT):
(QUIETLY)
I should not be stuck here, filled with this greasy stuff! It is against my family heritage. 

KEITH:
(LOUD, ANNOYED)
Fer fuck’s sake! Will yer shut the hell up! I’m trying to sleep. 

BRIAN:
(INDIGNANT)
It’s alright for you, Keith. You are merely a kettle. I, on the other hand, am a pristine porcelain ornament. 

FX: Keith blows a loud, wet, aggressive raspberry.

KEITH:
Happen yer don’t know what yer are. 

BRIAN:
(INDIGNANT)
I DO. I am a fine Porcelain—

KEITH:
(LOUDLY)
Fucking butter dish! That’s what yer are! Now, shut the hell up and let me sleep. 

SARAH:
Now, now, Keith. Don’t swear so much. Brian is a little confused, that’s all. 

KEITH:
Aye, the fool is doin’ me head in. Tell ‘im Sarah, he’s a bloody butter dish!

SARAH:
(BRIGHTLY)
Brian? Keith is right, my lovely. You are a butter dish. A very fine one though. 

BRIAN:
But Sarah, my parents were porcelain vases, and my grandparents were porcelain cups. It is simply not possible—

KEITH:
(ANGRY)
LOOK, you twonk. What ‘ave yer got inside? Under yer lid? 

BRIAN:
Some sort of horrible, greasy stuff.

KEITH:
A lot like butter, yeah? 

BRIAN:
Yes, indeed! No idea why they would put that stuff on my tray.

KEITH:
(LOUD, ANGRY)
Happen it MIGHT be because you are a FUCKING BUTTER DISH?

SARAH:
(SCOLDING TONE)
Now, now, Keith. Please calm down, you’ll set yourself off boiling again. 

KEITH:
(LOUD, ANGRY)
Aye, and it will be that idiot’s fault! 

BRIAN:
(UNHAPPY)
He doesn’t understand, Sarah. He’s a dumb kettle…

FX: loud crash, the sound of shattering ceramic plates. 

BRIAN:
(LOUD SQUEL)
OUCH! Sarah! Help! He’s throwing plates again! 

SARAH:
(CALMING, AUTHORITATIVE)
Look, good people of the kitchen. Keith is always grumpy when he’s trying to sleep. But he has to boil twenty times a day, so I’m not surprised. I get dunked in boiling liquid twenty times a day as well. So, please, can we have some quiet?

BRIAN:
(MUTTERING)
I’m a fine porcelain receptacle not a butter dish! 

FX: A boiling kettle gurgling loudly. 

SARAH:
(ANGRY)
Ah, sodding hell, Brian! You couldn’t keep it shut could you? He’s boiling now. Meaning the humans will hear it. Meaning they come in and make tea. That’ll be me getting another dunking. YOU’RE A BLOODY BUTTER DISH! 

NARRATOR:
As you have heard. All was not well in this kitchen. Do NOT assume your kitchen is a peaceful haven. 

FX: Sudden hissing steam and a kettle coming to the boil. The kettle clicks off and there’s a sharp cut to total silence.