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Free full-cast drama scripts

30 scripts written by us, free to practice with, record and put in your reel. Every one lists voice age, accent and length, so you can pick a read that fits the audition you are chasing.

Pass the Gravy

Family drama, dinnerAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator90 secondsabout 2.1 min

Cast: ELSIEMARKJOTYLER

A dining room in suburban Ohio, Sunday dinner. ELSIE, 78, sits at the head of the table. Her son MARK, 50, her daughter JO, 46, and her grandson TYLER, 19, are halfway through the roast

SFX: cutlery, a clock ticking

ELSIEMark, pass the gravy. And I'm getting married.
MARKHere you... What?
ELSIEThe gravy, dear. It's by your elbow.
JOMom. Did you just say married?
ELSIEI did. In May. You'll all get a card.
TYLEROh, this is the best Sunday ever.
MARKMarried to whom?
ELSIEHis name is Leonard.
MARKWho is Leonard?
ELSIELeonard from water aerobics. Tall. Good teeth. Mostly his own.
JOWater aerobics Leonard? With the hat?
ELSIEHe has several hats. Pass the gravy, Mark.
MARKYou've known him for how long?
ELSIEEight months.
MARKEight months! Mom, you're seventy-eight.
ELSIEWhich is exactly why I'm not waiting for a year's engagement. Do the math, sweetheart.
TYLERGrandma, is he on social media? I need to see him.
ELSIEHe's on the internet, if that's what you mean. He sells birdhouses.
JOMom, I think it's wonderful. I think it's actually wonderful.
TYLERFound him. Leonard's Lovely Birdhouses. Five stars. He's wearing a hat in every photo.
MARKYou would think it's wonderful. You thought the timeshare was wonderful.
JOThis isn't a timeshare, Mark. It's Mom.
MARKI'm just saying we don't know him.
ELSIEYou didn't know your father either, when I married him. Neither did I. It worked out for forty-one years. Now, Leonard's coming for dessert.
MARKTonight?
ELSIEHe's in the car. He's been in the car since the soup. Tyler, go and let him in.
JOSince the soup? Mom, it's forty degrees out there!
ELSIEHe's got a blanket. He's very resourceful.
TYLERWith pleasure.
MARKThe gravy, Mom.
ELSIEOh, now you want the gravy.

What it is for: A Sunday dinner where Grandma drops news nobody at the table is ready for. Four voices, one bombshell, and everybody reacting in character.
Coach's note: Watch out for everyone reacting the same way. Mark is outraged, Jo is delighted, Tyler is filming it in his head, and Elsie is completely calm. Elsie drives the scene by refusing to raise her voice. Leave space after 'His name is Leonard.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for distinct characters in a crowd scene: four people who could never be mistaken for each other with your eyes closed.

Page One, 10:52

Newsroom drama, deadlineAdult (40-55)Neutral AmericanOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: RUTHDANNYGLORIA

A regional newspaper newsroom, 10:52 p.m. RUTH, 52, the night editor, stands over DANNY, 26, a reporter. GLORIA, 64, the copy chief, types at the next desk without looking up

SFX: keyboards, a police scanner murmuring, a phone ringing unanswered

RUTHEight minutes, Danny. Where's my second source?
DANNYI've got him. I've got him, basically.
RUTHBasically is not a source.
DANNYHe said "no comment," but the way he said it...
GLORIAOh, here we go.
DANNYIt was a very guilty "no comment."
RUTHI can't print tone of voice.
DANNYRuth, the councilman took the money. Everybody knows he took the money.
RUTHThen somebody will say so. On the record.
GLORIASix minutes.
DANNYThe Courier has it too. If we don't run it tonight, they run it first.
RUTHThen they run it first.
DANNYAre you serious?
RUTHIf we're wrong, he sues, we fold, and forty people lose their jobs. Including Gloria.
GLORIAI'd like to retire on my own terms, thank you.
DANNYWhat about the bank records?
RUTHWhat bank records?
DANNYThe ones in my bag. The ones I didn't think were enough on their own.
RUTHDanny.
DANNYI didn't know if they counted.
RUTHGive them to me. Gloria, hold page one.
GLORIAHolding. Four minutes.
RUTHThis is a transfer. His name. The contractor's name. The date.
DANNYSo we run it?
RUTHWe run what the paper shows. Not what the "no comment" sounded like. Rewrite the top. Three paragraphs. Go.
DANNYGoing.
GLORIAAnd spell "councilman" right this time.
DANNYThat was once, Gloria!
GLORIAOnce is a correction, sweetheart. Three minutes.

What it is for: Eight minutes to deadline and the lead story has a hole in it. Fast overlapping newsroom pace with a moral choice in the middle.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting urgency become shouting. Ruth gets quieter as the pressure rises; Danny gets faster; Gloria is the only one who is calm, because she has seen it all. The turn is 'The ones in my bag', where Ruth stops arguing and starts editing.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for pace, clean diction at speed and three different kinds of pressure.

Morning Briefing

Police procedural, briefingAdult (40-55)Neutral BritishOne narrator90 secondsabout 2.1 min

Cast: MARSHPRICECOLEPRIYA

A CID office in Bristol, 7:30 a.m. DI HELEN MARSH, 48, leads a briefing. DS OWEN PRICE, 40, takes notes. PC JAMIE COLE, 24, is on his first week in plain clothes. PRIYA SHAH, 33, a civilian analyst, sits at the back with a laptop

SFX: a projector fan, a mug being put down

MARSHRight. Mrs. Deacon. Seventy-one. Found at the bottom of her stairs on Saturday. Owen.
PRICENeighbour found her at nine a.m. Front door locked. Back door locked. No sign of forced entry. Pathologist says a fall.
MARSHSo why are we here, Jamie?
COLEMa'am?
MARSHIf it's a fall, why am I doing a briefing on a Monday?
COLEBecause... the son?
MARSHWhat about the son?
COLEHe inherits. He was in debt.
PRICEHalf the sons in Bristol are in debt. He was in Cardiff all weekend. Cash machine, camera, pub. Solid.
MARSHPriya. You've been itching since I walked in.
PRIYAThe kettle.
MARSHGo on.
PRIYAThe scene photos. The kettle's full. Two cups out on the side. Two teabags. One is used.
PRICESo she made tea.
PRIYAFor two. And never poured the second one. And the milk's on the counter, not in the fridge.
MARSHMeaning?
PRIYAMeaning somebody knocked, she let them in, she put the kettle on. Then something happened before the kettle boiled.
COLEAnd they locked the door on the way out.
PRIYAWith her key. Which is missing. It's not on the hook. It's not in her bag. I checked the inventory twice.
MARSHOwen?
PRICENobody logged a missing key.
MARSHNobody looked for one. Jamie, you're with Priya. Every door on that street. I want the name of whoever had a cup of tea with Mrs. Deacon.
COLEYes, ma'am.
MARSHAnd Priya. Next time, don't wait for me to ask.

What it is for: A police briefing where the senior officer is quietly testing her team. Four professionals, one detail nobody has spotted yet.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing it like TV: loud and portentous. Real briefings are dry and quick. DI Marsh drives with questions. Priya the analyst is the one who has the answer and has to fight to be heard. The turn is 'The kettle.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for authority without volume and for a supporting character who steals the scene without raising her voice.

The Best Man Has Notes

Comedy drama, wedding toastAdult (25-40)ScottishOne narrator90 secondsabout 2.0 min

Cast: CRAIGALIFIONAMORAG

A wedding reception in a hotel outside Glasgow. CRAIG, 32, the best man, stands with a stack of cue cards. The groom, ALI, 33, the bride, FIONA, 31, and her mother, MORAG, 60, are at the top table

SFX: a spoon tapping a glass, the room going quiet

CRAIGLadies and gentlemen. For those who don't know me, I'm Craig. I've known Ali since primary three.
ALIKeep it short, Craig.
CRAIGI've been told to keep it short. So I've cut it down to forty-one cards.
FIONAHe's joking.
MORAGHe is not joking. I can see the cards.
CRAIGAli and I have been through a lot. Scouts. University. The camping holiday in Oban that we've both agreed never happened.
ALINext card.
CRAIGAnd then, three years ago, he met Fiona. And I said to him, Ali, she is way out of your league.
FIONAAw.
CRAIGAnd he said, I know. Then he said... Hang on. This isn't the right card.
MORAGWhat's on the card, Craig?
CRAIGIt's my notes. From the stag do. It says, "Do NOT mention Heather."
FIONAWho's Heather?
ALINobody.
MORAGWho is Heather, Alistair?
ALIHeather is a boat.
FIONAA boat?
CRAIGIt's a boat. He bought a boat. A wee sailing boat. Called Heather. Instead of a car. He was going to tell you after the honeymoon.
FIONAYou bought a boat?
ALIShe's very small. She's mostly a hobby.
MORAGHe's named a boat after another woman.
ALIShe came with the name, Morag!
CRAIGAnyway. Next card. Cards are gone. Right. Fiona. He talks about you like you're weather. Like you're the whole sky. That's all I've got. To the bride and groom.
MORAG...To the bride and groom.
FIONAAnd to Heather, apparently.

What it is for: A best man's speech that goes off the rails in real time, with the bride, groom and mother of the bride all trying to save it.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing Craig as drunk. He is sober and nervous and has kept one card too many. The others react in live whispers under his speech, so the timing of the overlaps matters more than the jokes. The turn is the wrong card.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for comic timing across four voices and for the one sincere line at the end landing without a wink.

Any Other Business

Community drama, village meetingAnyNeutral BritishOne narrator90 secondsabout 2.0 min

Cast: MARGARETGEOFFLUCYKENANNIE

A village hall in Yorkshire, 9:40 p.m. MARGARET, 70, chairs the parish council meeting. GEOFF, 66, a retired farmer, sits with his arms folded. LUCY, 34, is new to the village. KEN, 55, runs the pub. ANNIE, 80, knits in the front row

SFX: a gavel, the creak of stacking chairs

MARGARETItem fourteen. Any other business.
GEOFFAbout time.
MARGARETGeoff, you've been here since seven. You could have raised it under item three.
GEOFFItem three was potholes. This isn't potholes.
MARGARETGo on, then.
GEOFFThe goat.
LUCYOh, for heaven's sake.
GEOFFThat goat has been in my cabbages four times since Easter.
LUCYHis name is Brian, and he doesn't go in your cabbages. He goes near your cabbages.
GEOFFHe was wearing a cabbage, Lucy.
KENHe came in the pub on Thursday. Ate a beer mat. Very polite about it. Better behaved than Geoff, to be honest.
MARGARETKen, is this helping?
KENI'm just saying he's no trouble in the pub.
LUCYI've mended the fence twice. He jumps it. He's a very athletic goat.
GEOFFThen get a less athletic goat.
ANNIEI had a goat in 1962.
MARGARETYes, Annie?
ANNIENancy. Terrible goat. Ate my wedding veil. Best thing that ever happened. It was a horrible veil. His mother's.
GEOFFAnnie, that's not the point.
ANNIEEverything's the point at my age, Geoff.
LUCYSee? This village has a history of goats.
GEOFFIt has a history of cabbages, as well.
MARGARETRight. I propose Lucy pays Geoff for the cabbages, Geoff helps Lucy raise the fence, and Ken stops giving Brian beer mats.
KENHe likes the cardboard ones.
MARGARETAll in favour.
ANNIEAye. For Nancy.
MARGARETCarried. Meeting closed. Somebody fetch Brian, he's eating the minutes.

What it is for: The last item on a parish council agenda turns out to be the only one anybody came for. Five-voice meeting with a clear chair and escalating side-talk.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the chair as flustered. Margaret has run this meeting for twenty years and knows exactly what she is doing. Everyone else has one objective. Keep interruptions tight so the scene moves.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for comic ensemble control: each voice gets its moment, nobody treads on a laugh.

Juror Nine

Courtroom drama, jury roomAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: FOREPERSONJUROR NINEJUROR FOURJUROR TWO

A jury room in a county courthouse, late afternoon. The FOREPERSON, a man in his 50s, stands by a whiteboard. JUROR FOUR, a man in his 30s, checks his watch. JUROR TWO, a woman in her 60s, eats crackers. JUROR NINE, a woman in her 40s, has not spoken all day

FOREPERSONThat's eleven guilty. And one not guilty. Juror Nine, is that still you?
JUROR NINEIt's still me.
JUROR FOURCome on. We've been here since nine.
FOREPERSONLet her talk. Go ahead.
JUROR NINEThe receipt.
JUROR TWOWhat receipt?
JUROR NINEExhibit eleven. The gas station receipt. The prosecution said it put him near the store at 8:40.
JUROR FOURIt did. It's got the time on it.
JUROR NINEIt's got 8:40 on it. And a pump number. Pump six.
FOREPERSONSo?
JUROR NINEThe station manager testified on day two. He said pump six has been broken since June. Out of order. Bag over the handle.
JUROR TWO...He did say that. I remember, because he made a joke about the bag.
JUROR FOURSo the time's wrong. Doesn't mean he didn't do it.
JUROR NINENo. But it means that receipt isn't his. Somebody paid at a pump that doesn't work. Or the receipt was printed later. Either way, it's the only thing that puts him there.
FOREPERSONDoes anybody have the manager's testimony?
JUROR TWOI wrote it down. I write everything down. Here. "Pump six, broken since June."
JUROR FOURWhy didn't the defense say that?
JUROR NINEI don't know. Maybe they missed it. That's not a reason for us to.
FOREPERSON...Okay. Let's ask for the transcript.
JUROR FOURThat's another day.
JUROR TWOThen it's another day, honey. Have a cracker.

What it is for: Eleven people want to go home. One doesn't. A tight jury-room scene about pressure, doubt and the quiet one finally speaking.
Coach's note: Watch out for making Juror Nine meek. She is certain and polite, which is harder to argue with. The foreperson is trying to be fair and failing. The turn is the receipt, and the others have to genuinely think out loud.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a quiet voice that holds the room and for ensemble actors who react with the tiny sounds real people make.

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The Birthday Cake

Family drama, dinnerAdult (40-55)Southern USOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: LYNNRAYCASEY

A kitchen in Georgia. It is CASEY's twentieth birthday. Mom, LYNN, 48, is lighting candles on a cake. Dad, RAY, 52, is finishing his iced tea. CASEY, 20, is home from college for the weekend

LYNNOkay, lights off. Ray, lights.
RAYI'm going.

SFX: a light switch

LYNNHappy birthday to you...
CASEYMom, wait. Before the song. I want to say something.
LYNNBefore the song? The candles are going, honey.
CASEYIt won't take long. I'm leaving school.
RAYYou're what?
CASEYI'm leaving State. After this semester.
LYNNOh. Oh, sweetie. Is it the roommate? Because we can call about the roommate.
CASEYIt's not the roommate.
RAYCasey, you are two years from a degree.
CASEYI'm two years from a degree I don't want. I've been offered an apprenticeship. Electrical. With Hank Dupree's company.
RAYHank Dupree? You want to be an electrician?
CASEYI want to be good at something. I'm good at it. Hank says I'm the best first-year he's seen.
LYNNWell, that's... That's a real trade, Ray.
RAYI know it's a real trade, Lynn. I did it for thirty years. I put you through college so you wouldn't have to.
CASEYI know. I know that, Dad. And I'm grateful. I've already done it. I signed on Tuesday.
LYNNTuesday?
CASEYI wanted to tell you in person.
RAY...The candles are dripping.
LYNNRay.
RAYHank Dupree's got no sense of humor. You'll have to work twice as hard.
CASEYI know.
RAYAnd you'll wire your mother's porch light. It's been flickering since Easter.
CASEYDeal.
LYNNCan I sing now?
RAYSing, Lynn. Before we burn the house down.

What it is for: A birthday dinner where the guest of honour has an announcement, and the parents hear it very differently. A three-hander about who gets to be disappointed.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing Dad as the villain. He is scared for his kid and saying it badly. Mom thinks she is on Casey's side until she hears the second half. Casey drives the scene and must not apologise. The turn is 'I've already done it.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a family unit: three rhythms that clearly grew up together.

Between Floors

Contemporary drama, strangersAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: GAVINNADIAMR. PELLKEISHA

An office elevator in Chicago, stuck between the ninth and tenth floors. GAVIN, 35, in a suit, jabs at the buttons. NADIA, 45, on her phone. MR. PELL, 80, a retired accountant, leans on his cane. KEISHA, 22, an intern, holds a tray of coffees

SFX: a thud, the hum of the elevator cutting out

GAVINNo, no, no. Come on.
NADIAPressing it harder won't help.
GAVINI have a pitch at ten.
NADIAI have a flight at twelve. Nobody cares.
MR. PELLIsn't this exciting.
GAVINExciting?
MR. PELLI've been in this building forty years. Never once got stuck. I'd started to take it personally.
NADIAThere's no signal.
GAVINWhat do you mean, no signal? It's the twenty-first century.
NADIAIt's a metal box, hanging on a rope, in the twenty-first century.
NADIATell it that.
GAVINIs it getting hot? It's getting hot. It's getting really hot.
MR. PELLIt's the coffee, dear. She's got six coffees.
KEISHAEverybody sit down.
GAVINSorry?
KEISHASit down. On the floor. Uses less air and it's cooler down there. Sir, there's an emergency phone behind that panel. Can you open it?
MR. PELLWith pleasure.
NADIAHow do you know that?
KEISHAMy mom's an elevator inspector. I grew up hearing about this. Fifteen minutes, usually. Twenty if it's Friday.
GAVINIt's Friday.
KEISHAThen twenty. Here. Have a coffee. It's oat milk. It was for my boss.
GAVINI can't take your boss's coffee.
NADIAI can. Pass me one. Is there a vanilla?
KEISHASecond from the left.
KEISHAMy boss can take the stairs.
MR. PELLHello? Yes. Elevator three. We're all fine. A young lady is in charge. Twenty minutes? Lovely. No rush.

What it is for: Four strangers stuck in an office elevator. Panic, comedy and one unexpected leader, in a bottle scene.
Coach's note: Watch out for all four panicking. Only Gavin panics. Nadia is annoyed, Mr. Pell is delighted to have company, and Keisha, the youngest, quietly takes charge. The turn is 'Everybody sit down,' and the others have to follow her, not argue.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for distinct energies in a confined space and for a young voice that earns authority.

Open House

Family drama, saleAnyAustralianOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.8 min

Cast: BREESOPHIELIAMDEAN

A weatherboard house in Adelaide, Saturday morning. BREE, 38, a real-estate agent, shows a young couple, SOPHIE, 29, and LIAM, 30, through the back door. The owner's son, DEAN, 45, sits alone on the verandah

BREEAnd through here, the famous back verandah. North-facing. Perfect for a Sunday.
SOPHIEOh, it's gorgeous.
LIAMIs that a lemon tree?
BREEOriginal lemon tree. Fruits all year. And this is... Oh. Hello.
DEANG'day.
BREESorry, the house is meant to be empty during inspections.
DEANI'm the empty bit. Don't mind me.
SOPHIEDo you live here?
DEANUsed to. Grew up here. Mum's in a home now. We're selling for the fees.
LIAMOh. Sorry, mate.
BREEDean, maybe you could wait out the front?
DEANI'll be quiet. You carry on.
BREERight. The verandah was renovated in, um...
DEAN1987.
BREE1987. Thank you.
SOPHIEIt's beautiful work. Is that jarrah?
DEANRecycled jarrah. From a woolshed out near Burra. Dad hauled it back on a trailer. Took him four trips.
LIAMHe built it?
DEANHe built it. Every board. I held the torch. That's my initials, there, in the corner. Burnt in with a magnifying glass. I was nine.
SOPHIED.W.
DEANDean Walsh.
BREEThe Walshes have been a very loved family in this house.
DEANYou don't have to do the voice, Bree. It's all right.
BREE...Sorry.
LIAMWould you mind if we kept them? The initials. If we bought it.
DEANYou'd keep them?
SOPHIEWe wouldn't touch that board.
DEAN...Then you should put an offer in. Before the bloke with the spreadsheet does.

What it is for: A real-estate agent's perfect open house is derailed by the seller's grown son, who is not supposed to be there. Sales patter against grief.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the agent as a shark. Bree is doing a hard job well. The young couple are genuinely interested, which makes it worse for Dean. The turn is 'He built it,' and every voice should shift down a notch after it.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a salesperson voice that is persuasive and human, and for a quiet male voice that changes a room.

The Reading

Family drama, willAnyIrishOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: BYRNEUNAFERGALNUALA

A solicitor's office in Limerick. MR. BYRNE, 60, reads the will of Delia Keane to her three children: UNA, 55, FERGAL, 50, and NUALA, 44

SFX: paper rustling, a clock

BYRNE"To my eldest daughter Una, I leave the house on Cratloe Road, and my mother's rings."
UNAWell. That's only right.
FERGALThe house. Grand. Of course. Una gets the house.
UNAI did live with her for nine years, Fergal.
FERGALIn the house. Rent free.
BYRNEIf I may continue. "To my son Fergal, I leave my savings, less funeral costs, and the car."
FERGALThe car? The little blue one?
NUALAIt's a good car.
FERGALIt's got a hundred and ninety thousand on the clock and a goat's worth of dog hair in the back.
BYRNE"To my youngest, Nuala, I leave my books, my good china, and Bartholomew."
NUALAI'm sorry. Bartholomew?
BYRNEThe dog, I'm led to believe.
NUALAI live in a one-bedroom flat in Dublin!
UNAShe always said you needed company.
NUALAShe always said I needed a husband. This is the dog version.
FERGALThat dog is fourteen and bites the post.
BYRNEThere is a further paragraph. "To whichever of my children takes Bartholomew, the sum of twenty thousand euro for his care and for theirs."
FERGALTwenty thousand?
UNAFor the dog?
NUALAFor whoever takes the dog.
FERGALI'll take him. I've a garden.
NUALAYou've a patio.
FERGALIt's a big patio.
BYRNEI should say the will specifies the dog must be willing.
UNAMammy.
NUALAShe's done this on purpose.
BYRNEI'd imagine so, Miss Keane. He's in reception. Shall I bring him in?

What it is for: A solicitor reads a will to three adult siblings, and the last bequest sets them off. Four voices, one legal voice holding the line.
Coach's note: Watch out for making the solicitor comic. Mr. Byrne is professionally neutral and quietly enjoying it. Each sibling hears the will through their own grievance: Fergal the money, Una the house, Nuala the principle. The turn is the dog.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for four distinct Irish voices and for a straight-man character who never breaks.

Table Twelve

Workplace drama, restaurant kitchenAdult (30-45)Neutral AmericanOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: VASQUEZTONIJUNESAM

A busy restaurant kitchen, 8:45 p.m. on a Saturday. CHEF VASQUEZ, 42, runs the pass. TONI, 35, the sous chef, works the grill. SAM, 20, is a commis cook on his second week. JUNE, 28, a server, bursts through the swing door

SFX: pans, extractor fans, a ticket printer chattering

VASQUEZTwo duck, one bass, one risotto, table six. Walking in.
TONIHeard.
JUNEChef. Table twelve.
VASQUEZWhat about twelve?
JUNEIt's her. The critic. Glasses, grey coat, ordered the tasting menu and asked what the fish was yesterday.
VASQUEZYou're sure?
JUNEShe's writing in a little notebook under the table.
TONIOh, good. Great. Love that.
VASQUEZNobody panics. Toni, where's my bass?
TONITwo minutes. Chef, we're out of the fennel.
VASQUEZWe're out of fennel?
TONIDelivery was short. I told you at four.
VASQUEZYou told me at four we were short. You didn't say out.
JUNEShe's on course two. You've got ten minutes before the bass.
VASQUEZWhat else goes with the bass? Think.
SAMChef.
VASQUEZNot now, Sam.
SAMChef, the celery root. From staff meal. I roasted it with the orange peel, the way my grandma does it. There's a tray in the walk-in.
VASQUEZ...Bring it.
TONIChef, we can't give a critic the staff meal.
VASQUEZTaste it.
TONI...Okay. Okay, that's actually very good.
VASQUEZJune, the bass comes with roasted celery root and orange. It's always come with that. It's our signature.
JUNESince when?
VASQUEZSince about forty seconds ago. Go.
JUNEGoing.
VASQUEZSam.
SAMYes, Chef?
VASQUEZPlate it. Your hands. My pass. If she likes it, it's yours on the menu Tuesday.
SAMYes, Chef!
TONIHeard.

What it is for: A restaurant kitchen at the peak of Saturday service when a critic is spotted at table twelve. Overlapping calls, hierarchy under pressure and a new cook who saves the night.
Coach's note: Watch out for everybody at full volume. A good kitchen is loud in short bursts and silent in between. Chef Vasquez drives; Toni answers everything with 'Heard'; Sam, the new commis, speaks once with real weight. Make the calls crisp so the crisis reads.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for rhythm and diction under pressure, and whether an ensemble can keep a scene clear with lines on top of each other.

Last Orders at the Lamb

Contemporary drama, pubMature (55+)WelshOne narrator90 secondsabout 1.9 min

Cast: GLENYSNIADAIEMRYS

A village pub in North Wales, 10:55 p.m. GLENYS, 68, the landlady, wipes down the bar. Two regulars, EMRYS, 74, and DAI, 58, finish their pints. The door opens: NIA, 30, a stranger, comes in out of the rain

SFX: rain, a door, a bell over it

GLENYSWe're just closing, love.
NIAI'm sorry. I won't stay. I'm looking for someone. Or I was.
DAIYou'll want the post office for that. Shuts at five.
EMRYSAnd it's got nothing in it anyway.
NIAIt's an old photo. It was taken outside here. See the sign?
GLENYSLet's see.
NIAIt's my grandmother. Before she went to Liverpool. She never talked about Wales. Not once. She died in March.
EMRYSOh, now. That's the old sign. Before the gale took it. Sixty-something.
DAILook at the car. That's Tomos Parry's old van.
EMRYSIt is. Look at the state of the bumper.
NIADo any of you know her? Her name was Eira. Eira Hughes.
DAIHughes. There's a lot of Hugheses.
EMRYSHalf the valley's Hughes.
GLENYS...I knew her.
NIAYou did?
GLENYSShe was my best friend. Until she was sixteen. Then one Sunday she wasn't in chapel, and nobody would say why.
EMRYSGlenys.
GLENYSIt's all right, Emrys. It's sixty years. Sit down, love. Dai, put the kettle on.
DAIIt's closing time. And you've never once in your life said "put the kettle on" after ten.
GLENYSIt's my pub, Dai. I'll say when it's closing time.
NIAWhat happened to her?
GLENYSI'll tell you what I know. Then you tell me what you know. Between us, we might have the whole of her.

What it is for: Closing time at a village pub when a stranger arrives with a photograph. A small-community scene where everyone knows more than they say.
Coach's note: Watch out for making the stranger mysterious. Nia is nervous and hopeful. The regulars close ranks without meaning to. Glenys the landlady decides the scene; the turn is her 'I knew her,' and the room should go still around it.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a musical Welsh ensemble with a newcomer who sounds like she is from somewhere else in the same country.

Christmas at the Lake House

Family drama, dinnerAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.4 min

Cast: CAROLWALTGREGBETHSAM

A lake house in Michigan, Christmas night. CAROL, 60, the host, raises a glass. Her husband GREG, 62, carves. Their daughter BETH, 34, sits with her partner, SAM, 35. Carol's father, WALT, 88, is on his third eggnog

SFX: a fire crackling, glasses clinking

CAROLBefore we eat. I just want to say how wonderful it is to have everybody here. All together. No drama this year.
WALTGive it an hour.
CAROLDad.
GREGWho wants white meat?
BETHActually, Mom, Sam and I have something to say.
CAROLOh! Oh my goodness. Are you...?
BETHNo. Not that. Sit down, Mom.
SAMWe're moving.
CAROLMoving where?
SAMLisbon. In March. I got a transfer.
CAROLLisbon. Portugal Lisbon?
WALTIs there another one?
GREGThat's... That's exciting, kids.
CAROLGreg, you're not surprised.
GREGI'm very surprised. Look at my face.
CAROLThat is your "I knew" face. You had it when the dog died.
BETHDad knew. I told him in October.
CAROLOctober?
SAMAnd Grandpa knew.
WALTI've known since Labor Day. I helped with the paperwork.
CAROLEverybody knew?
BETHEverybody but you, Mom.
CAROLWhy? Why would you tell everybody but me?
BETHBecause you'd do this. Right now. Exactly this. You'd make it about the distance.
CAROLIt is about the distance! It's four thousand miles!
BETHIt's a seven-hour flight. You fly to Arizona for golf.
GREGShe's got you there, Carol.
CAROLDon't you dare, Gregory.
WALTWhen your mother and I moved to Detroit, her mother didn't speak to us for a year.
CAROLDad, that's not helping.
WALTI'm not trying to help. I'm telling you how it ends. She came round. Brought a ham. Cried in our kitchen. Said she'd wasted a whole year being right.
CAROL...
SAMI'm sorry, Carol. That was my idea, not telling you. Not Beth's. Blame me. Carol, there's a guest room. It's got a balcony. We measured it for you.
CAROLYou measured it?
BETHTwice. It faces the river.
CAROL...I'd need a good suitcase.
GREGI know a man.
CAROLWhite meat, Greg. Just carve.

What it is for: A Christmas dinner where a toast turns into an ambush. Five voices, three generations, and a secret everybody but one person knew.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting it become a shouting match. This family fights politely, which is sharper. Carol thinks she is hosting; Beth has been rehearsing this for a month; Grandpa Walt is the only one enjoying himself. The turn is 'Everybody knew?' Listen to who answers first.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for layered ensemble reactions: gasps, laughs and silences that tell the story between lines.

The Holdout

Courtroom drama, jury roomAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.6 min

Cast: DOLORESEDMARCUSCARMENOWEN

A jury room, day three of deliberations. DOLORES, 60, the foreperson. ED, 55, a contractor, stands by the window. MARCUS, 30, a teacher. CARMEN, 42, a nurse. OWEN, 70, retired, reads the evidence folder for the fourth time

DOLORESWe're six and six. Again. Does anyone want to change their vote before I tell the judge we're stuck?
EDI'm not changing. The kid did it.
MARCUSYou keep saying "the kid." He's twenty-two.
EDHe's a kid. I've got socks older than him.
CARMENEd, we're not voting on your socks.
OWENThe witness put him at the bus stop at eleven. The camera puts him at the bus stop at eleven. The robbery was at eleven-oh-five, a mile away.
EDSo he ran.
MARCUSA mile in five minutes? In those shoes?
EDHe's twenty-two!
CARMENSo now he's not a kid?
DOLORESAll right. Let's hear it, Ed. Not "the kid did it." Tell me why you're sure.
EDBecause they're always sure. The ones who do it. He sat there all week looking at the floor, like he was sorry. Guilty people look sorry.
OWENSo do scared people.
EDWhat would you know about it?
OWENI was a public defender for thirty-four years. I've seen a lot of floors looked at.
ED...
DOLORESEd?
EDI had a brother. Kenny. He got picked up for something when I was nineteen. Looked at the floor all through the trial, just like this one. Everybody said he was guilty.
CARMENWas he?
EDI don't know. He did six years. He came out and he never looked anybody in the eye again. Not even me. He died when he was forty.
MARCUSI'm sorry.
EDAnd I thought, if they'd just been sure. Either way. If somebody had been sure.
DOLORESIt was your brother you were voting on.
ED...Maybe.
OWENBeing sure isn't the same as being right, Ed. That's the whole job in here.
EDRead me the camera time again.
OWEN11:02. Bus stop. Hood down. Facing the camera.
EDFacing the camera.
CARMENNot looking at the floor.
ED...Put me down as undecided. For now. And somebody get me the map.
MARCUSPut me down undecided too. I was guilty because I was tired.
DOLORESSeven undecided. Carmen?
CARMENI'll order the sandwiches.

What it is for: A jury split six-six on day three. Five voices, one table, and the moment a loud juror reveals why he's so certain.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing Ed as the bully. He is loud because he is frightened of something personal. Dolores runs the room with patience that is wearing thin. Marcus and Carmen are the swing votes, so listen to them change. The turn is 'I had a brother.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for five distinct American voices and for a big character whose volume drops at exactly the right moment.

The Correction

Newsroom drama, ethicsAdult (40-55)Neutral BritishOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.5 min

Cast: FRANCESTOMRAJNADINE

A national newspaper office in London, 6:15 a.m. FRANCES, 54, the editor, stands with the morning edition. TOM, 31, the reporter, has just arrived. NADINE, 45, the paper's lawyer, is on speakerphone, then in person. RAJ, 38, the photo editor, is already there

SFX: a door, the building's air conditioning, a phone on speaker

FRANCESSit down, Tom.
TOMI got your message. Is it the council story?
FRANCESIt's the council story.
RAJThe photo. Page one. The man in the photo isn't Graham Pike.
TOMIt is. It's from his firm's website.
RAJIt's from his firm's website. It's his cousin. Martin Pike. Same firm, same name, same haircut. Martin Pike is a primary school governor in Swindon who has never met a councillor in his life.
TOMOh, no.
FRANCESHe rang at five. His daughter saw it on the school gates. Somebody had stuck it up with the word "crook" in red pen.
TOMI'm sorry. I checked. I thought I checked.
NADINEFrances, I'm here. I've read it. Legally, we're in a bad place, but not a catastrophic one, if we move now.
FRANCESHow now is now?
NADINEOnline correction in the next ten minutes. Apology on page two tomorrow. Call Mr. Pike personally. Don't let Tom call him.
TOMI'd like to call him.
NADINEI'd like a pony. Don't call him.
RAJPage two won't cut it. That photo was the whole front page. Everybody saw the front.
FRANCESRaj is right.
NADINEFrances, a front-page correction is an admission.
FRANCESIt is an admission. We did it. On the front. So we fix it on the front.
NADINEThe board won't like it.
FRANCESThe board didn't put a school governor's face under the word "corruption." We did. Tom, write it. Two paragraphs. No excuses, no "regrettably." Say what we got wrong and who we hurt.
TOMYes.
FRANCESAnd then you and I are going to Swindon.
TOMBoth of us?
FRANCESI'm the editor. It's my front page. Raj, pull a picture of the right Pike and check it three times.
RAJFour.
NADINEI'll draft the letter. For the record, this is a terrible legal strategy.
FRANCESNoted, Nadine. It's a good newspaper one.

What it is for: A national newsroom discovers its front page has named the wrong man. Four journalists, one lawyer's clock, and a choice about pride.
Coach's note: Watch out for making the editor a tyrant. Frances is furious with herself, and it comes out as calm. Tom, the reporter, is devastated and must not beg. The lawyer, Nadine, is the only person who is not emotional, and that is funny. The turn is Frances deciding the correction goes on page one.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for urgent, intelligent British voices with distinct status, and for how the room reorganises around one decision.

Missing Since Tuesday

Police procedural, briefingAdult (40-55)Neutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.4 min

Cast: REYESHALEKIMBENNY

A police department briefing room in Oregon, 8 a.m. LIEUTENANT REYES, 50, at the front. DETECTIVE HALE, 45, leans on a desk. OFFICER GRACE KIM, 32, the family liaison. TECH ANALYST BENNY OKAFOR, 27, at a laptop

SFX: a coffee machine gurgling, a whiteboard marker squeaking

REYESDanielle Price. Thirty-eight. Missing since Tuesday. Hale.
HALECar's gone, bank card used at a gas station in Redding Tuesday night. Husband says they argued Monday. Looks like she left.
REYESGrace?
KIMShe didn't leave.
HALEGrace, with respect, you've been at the house two days. You're on their side.
KIMI'm on the side of what's in the house, Detective. Her insulin's in the fridge. All of it. She's type one. She wouldn't go a day without it.
HALEPeople forget things when they're upset.
KIMNot that. Not for three days.
REYESBenny, the card.
BENNYCard was used at 9:14 p.m. Tuesday at a gas station off the interstate. Pump and in-store. Forty dollars of gas, a sandwich and dog food.
REYESDog food?
BENNYLarge bag. Chicken and rice.
KIMThey don't have a dog.
HALEMaybe she's getting one. New life.
KIMHer husband's brother has a dog. A big one. He lives outside Redding.
REYES...Did anybody interview the brother?
HALEHe wasn't on the list. Husband didn't mention him.
KIMI asked the daughter. She's nine. She said Uncle Rob was at the house on Monday. She said he and Mom were shouting in the garage.
HALEWhy didn't the husband tell us that?
KIMThat's a very good question.
REYESBenny, the gas station has cameras?
BENNYThree. I've requested them. Twenty minutes. And, Lieutenant, the card was used by a man. The clerk remembers. Big guy, ball cap, paid for the dog food separately.
REYESMake it ten. Hale, get Redding police to do a welfare check on the brother's address. Quietly. Don't spook him.
HALEYes, Lieutenant.
REYESGrace.
KIMLieutenant?
REYESGo back to the house. Stay with the kid. And if the husband wants to talk, let him talk.
KIMAnd if he doesn't?
REYESThen that's something too.

What it is for: A missing-person briefing where the family liaison officer challenges the lead detective's theory. Procedure with a human cost in the room.
Coach's note: Watch out for making Lieutenant Reyes cold. She has twelve open cases and a clock. Officer Kim has spent two days with the family and speaks for them. Detective Hale is the loudest and the least right. The turn is the dog.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a briefing that sounds real: overlapping, technical, tired, and human underneath.

The Maid of Honour Speaks

Comedy drama, wedding toastAdult (25-40)AustralianOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.7 min

Cast: JESSKATEBARRYLORRAINENICK

A wedding reception at a vineyard in the Barossa. JESS, 30, the maid of honour, stands at the microphone. The bride, KATE, 31, the groom, NICK, 33, Kate's dad, BARRY, 64, and Nick's mum, LORRAINE, 60, are at the top table

SFX: a microphone thump, laughter settling

JESSHi, everyone. I'm Jess. Kate and I met in year seven when she punched a boy for stealing my lunch.
KATEHe deserved it.
JESSHe did. He's here, actually. Hi, Tim.
BARRYGood on you, Tim. Brave man.
JESSWhen Kate met Nick, I was suspicious. He was too nice. He brought soup when she had the flu. Nobody brings soup.
LORRAINEI taught him that.
JESSThank you, Lorraine. And I thought, there's got to be a catch. And there was. Because three weeks ago, Nick asked me to help him plan the surprise.
NICKJess. Jess, not that bit.
JESSWhat? It's lovely. Nick has bought a house.
KATEWhat?
JESSIn Tasmania. With a view of the water.
KATETasmania?
NICKI was going to tell you on the plane.
KATEOn the plane to Bali?
NICKOn the plane home from Bali. Honeymoon glow. You'd have been relaxed.
LORRAINEHe gets this from his father. His father bought a caravan once without asking. We lived in it for a year.
KATEDid you like it?
LORRAINEI loved it, darling. That's not the point.
KATEWe live in Adelaide, Nick. My whole family's in Adelaide.
NICKI know. I know. But you said, the night we met, you said you'd always wanted to live somewhere with a sea you could hear from bed. And I found one.
KATE...I said that?
NICKYou said it about four times. You'd had a few.
JESSI'm so sorry. I thought she knew. I thought it was a "we" surprise.
BARRYCan I say something?
KATEDad, this isn't really...
BARRYYour mother and I moved to Adelaide from Broken Hill with one suitcase. Her mum said we were mad. Best thing we ever did. You don't hold on to a place, love. You hold on to him.
KATE...Does it have a spare room?
NICKTwo.
KATEThen Dad gets one. And Jess gets the other one, because she's never telling a secret again in her life.
JESSThat's fair. That's completely fair. To Kate and Nick. And to Tasmania.

What it is for: A maid of honour's speech that accidentally reveals the groom's secret, and the wedding that survives it. Big comedy with a sincere landing.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting Jess be a mess. She is precise and well prepared, which is what makes the slip hurt. The bride's father is the unexpected hero. The turn is 'I was going to tell you on the plane.' Keep the room reactions short.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for an Australian ensemble with confident comedy timing and a father figure with warmth.

The Allotment Vote

Community drama, village meetingMature (55+)Neutral BritishOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.7 min

Cast: BRENDACOLINDEREKSANDRAIVY

A church hall in a Midlands village, 7 p.m. BRENDA, 62, chairs the allotment committee. COLIN, 50, from the district council, presents a plan. DEREK, 70, grows prize onions. SANDRA, 45, runs the nursery school. IVY, 88, sits by the radiator

SFX: rain on high windows, the hum of an old heater

BRENDARight. Item one, and the only item. Colin, you have the floor.
COLINThank you, Brenda. As you know, the high street needs parking. The allotments are the only flat land in the village. The council proposes forty spaces, landscaping and a new bench.
DEREKA bench.
COLINA very good bench.
DEREKI've had plot nine for thirty-one years, Colin. You can't grow onions on a bench.
SANDRAThe nursery takes the children there every Thursday. They plant beans. They've never seen a bean before they come.
COLINI understand. And there'll be planters. In the car park.
SANDRAPlanters.
COLINLarge planters.
DEREKMy onions weigh more than your planters.
SANDRAAnd where do the children go on a wet Thursday? The car park?
BRENDADerek, please.
COLINThe shops are closing. The bakery closed in May. People can't park, so they drive to town. This is how you save a high street.
BRENDAHe does have a point, Derek.
DEREKI know he's got a point. I don't like his point.
IVYMay I?
BRENDAIvy? Of course.
IVYI'll stand, if you don't mind. I've been sitting since 1990.
COLINPlease, there's no need.
IVYThere's every need. Young man, do you know who owns that land?
COLINThe parish, I believe.
IVYYou believe wrong. My father gave the use of it to the village in 1946. For growing food. For as long as someone grows food there. I have the letter. I have the deeds. They're in my handbag. They've been in my handbag since 1990, in case somebody like you turned up.
COLIN...Could I see those?
IVYYou may. Carefully. They're older than you.
DEREKIvy, you never said.
IVYNobody asked. Now. The bakery. Sandra, you need a hall for the nursery on wet days. Derek, you've got more onions than sense. Colin, there's a yard behind the old bakery that would take twenty cars. That's your car park. Brenda, write that down.
BRENDAWriting it down.
COLINThat's... actually not a bad plan.
IVYI'm eighty-eight. I've had a long time to think about it.

What it is for: A committee meeting over whether the village allotments become a car park. Five small-town voices, one quiet secret weapon.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the developer as the villain. Colin believes he is helping. The real opposition is Ivy, who has barely said a word for twenty years. The turn is Ivy standing up. Everyone must go quiet for her.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a grounded ensemble of mostly older British voices, each with a clear personal stake.

Death at the Summer Fete, Part One

Mystery, radio-play whodunnitAnyNeutral BritishOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.7 min

Cast: NARRATORDUNNHATTIEPAMELARUPERT

A village summer fete in the 1950s, a radio-play in the classic style. NARRATOR, any age. INSPECTOR DUNN, 50s, male. PAMELA ASHWORTH, 40s, the vicar's wife. RUPERT GALE, 30s, a charming visitor. HATTIE BELL, 20s, runs the cake stall

SFX: a brass band in the distance, birdsong, a tent flap in the breeze

NARRATORThe summer fete at Little Hensley had never had a murder. It had had a runaway donkey, a scandal over a marrow, and one very serious wasp. But never a murder. Until four o'clock on the third of August, when Colonel Fitch was found face down in the Victoria sponge.
DUNNNobody touch the cake.
HATTIEIt's my cake! It won second prize!
DUNNIt's evidence now, miss. Who found him?
PAMELAI did, Inspector. I came in to count the raffle money. And there he was.
DUNNYou seem very calm, Mrs. Ashworth.
PAMELAI'm a vicar's wife. I've been to a great many funerals. One learns to keep a steady hand.
NARRATORHer hand was steady. But the inspector noticed that her gloves, white cotton, spotless, were on inside out.
DUNNAnd you, sir? You're not from the village.
RUPERTRupert Gale. On holiday. I heard the scream and dashed in to help. Anything I can do, Inspector. Anything at all.
PAMELAHe's a very kind young man, Inspector. He held my handbag.
DUNNDid he, now. Did you know the Colonel, Mr. Gale?
RUPERTNever met the man. Seemed a decent sort. From a distance.
HATTIEThat's not true! I saw you arguing with him! By the coconut shy!
RUPERTA misunderstanding. About... coconuts.
DUNNCoconuts.
RUPERTHe thought they were rigged. Which, frankly, they are.
NARRATORHattie Bell was crying now. Real tears. But she was crying, the inspector noted, a little too loudly. As though she wanted the whole tent to hear.
DUNNMiss Bell. Did the Colonel have any enemies?
HATTIEEverybody! He was horrible! He said my sponge was dry!
DUNNWas it?
HATTIE...It was a bit dry.
PAMELAIt was very dry, dear. I did say.
DUNNThen he died a critic. Nobody leaves this tent. Mrs. Ashworth, your gloves, please. Mr. Gale, the coconuts. And Miss Bell, I'll need the name of whoever took first prize.
NARRATORAnd from outside the tent, very faintly, came the sound of a brass band playing, quite cheerfully, as if nothing at all had happened. To be continued.

What it is for: The opening of a cosy radio-play mystery: a narrator, a body in the tea tent, and three suspects who all have something to hide.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting the narrator get arch. Narrate like a storyteller who likes these people. Each suspect must be clearly suspicious in a different way: Pamela too calm, Rupert too helpful, Hattie too upset. Inspector Dunn is dry, never theatrical.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for classic radio-drama clarity: every character identifiable within one line, and a narrator who sets pace without slowing it.

Parents' Evening

Family drama, school meetingAdult (40-55)Neutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.5 min

Cast: OBIANNADAVID

An elementary school classroom in Minnesota, 6 p.m. MS. OBI, 38, a fourth-grade teacher, sits on a tiny chair. Across from her, on equally tiny chairs, are DAVID, 45, and ANNA, 43, who divorced last year. They arrived separately

OBIThank you both for coming. I know schedules are difficult.
ANNASome schedules are more difficult than others.
DAVIDI was eight minutes late, Anna. There was a crash on the bypass.
ANNAThere's always a crash on the bypass.
OBISo. Leo. He's a lovely boy. He's bright. He's kind to the younger kids at recess.
DAVIDThat's great.
OBIBut he's stopped handing in homework.
ANNAThat's David's week. Homework's always missing on David's week.
DAVIDI do homework with him every night!
ANNAYou do the homework for him every night.
DAVIDThat's not fair.
OBIActually, it's not about which week. It's both weeks.
ANNABoth?
OBISince October. And he's been asking to stay in at recess. He says he's tired.
DAVIDHe's not sleeping well at mine. The new place is by the train.
ANNAHe doesn't sleep well at mine either. He comes into my room.
DAVIDHe does?
ANNAEvery night, since you left.
DAVIDYou never told me that.
ANNAYou never asked.
OBIMay I show you something? We did a project on homes last week. The children drew their house.
DAVIDOkay.
OBIThis is Leo's.
ANNA...That's both houses.
DAVIDWith a road between them.
OBIAnd there's a little boy standing in the middle of the road. With two backpacks.
ANNAOh, Leo.
DAVID...Okay.
OBII'm not a counselor, and I'm not taking sides. But I think he needs to see you two in the same room. Not fighting. Just in the same room.
DAVIDLike this?
OBILike this. On tiny chairs. It's very hard to fight on a tiny chair. I've seen people try.
ANNA...Leo's got a recital on the fourteenth. He's the tree.
DAVIDI know. He told me. He's very proud of being the tree.
ANNAWe could sit together.
DAVIDWe could. I'll get there early. Avoid the bypass.
OBIAnd I'll save you two tiny chairs.

What it is for: A teacher meets a divorced couple about their son, and ends up mediating their marriage. Three voices, a tiny desk and a lot of history.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the parents as villains. They love their son and have stopped listening to each other. Ms. Obi is the only person who has actually met the child this year, and she is patient until she isn't. The turn is the drawing.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a teacher's voice with authority and warmth, and a divorced couple whose timing gives them away.

The Search

Community drama, search partyAnyScottishOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.5 min

Cast: ROSSMORVENKIRSTYANGUS

A hillside above a Highland village, 9 p.m. in December. SERGEANT ROSS, 45, leads the search. MORVEN, 36, the missing boy's mother, carries a torch. ANGUS, 81, a retired shepherd, walks with a crook. KIRSTY, 19, a volunteer, carries the radio

SFX: wind, boots on frozen heather, a crackling police radio

ROSSKeep in a line. Ten yards apart. Call his name every thirty seconds, then listen.
MORVENCallum! Callum!
KIRSTYSergeant, the radio says the mountain rescue team's forty minutes out.
ROSSForty minutes. Right. Tell them we're on the east side of the burn.
MORVENHe's eight. He's in his school shoes. He went out after the dog.
ROSSWe know, Morven. Keep calling.
ANGUSThe dog.
ROSSSorry, Angus?
ANGUSWhat kind of dog?
MORVENA collie. Bess. She's only a year old.
ANGUSA young collie on this hill, in this wind, she'll go for the sheep. The sheep go to the old fank when the weather turns.
KIRSTYWhat's a fank?
ANGUSA pen. Stone walls. My father built it. It's up by the ruined bothy. Nobody uses it now. The sheep still remember.
ROSSThat's off our search area.
ANGUSThen your search area's wrong, son.
MORVENHow far?
ANGUSHalf a mile. Straight up. I'd not do it in the dark, at my age.
ROSSKirsty, radio the team. Tell them the fank above the bothy.
KIRSTYThey're asking for grid reference.
ANGUSTell them to follow the burn to the waterfall and turn left at the big rock. That's the grid reference.
KIRSTY...I'll tell them that.
MORVENI'm going up.
ROSSMorven, wait for the team.
MORVENI've waited three hours. Angus, which way?
ANGUSFollow the wall. Keep your hand on it. It'll take you all the way.

SFX: a long, thin whistle in the distance

KIRSTYWhat was that?
ANGUSShh. Listen.

SFX: the whistle again, then a dog barking faintly

MORVENThat's his whistle. That's the whistle for Bess. He's calling her!
ANGUSHe's calling her because he's safe enough to think of her. That's a clever boy.
ROSSEverybody, towards the sound. Slowly. Kirsty, tell rescue we've got a location.
KIRSTYWhat do I say?
ANGUSTell them the fank. And tell them he's got a good dog.

What it is for: A village search for a missing boy on a winter night. Radio chatter, torches and an old man who knows the hill better than the police.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing constant panic. Sergeant Ross is methodical; Morven, the mother, is holding herself together by being useful. Old Angus is slow, and the scene waits for him. The turn is the whistle, and everyone must stop and listen.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for tension held under control and a range of Scottish voices, from clipped professional to old Highland.

Anniversary

Family drama, dinnerMature (55+)Neutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.4 min

Cast: MIKELAURAPHILJOAN

A restaurant in Boston. JOAN, 66, and PHIL, 68, celebrate their fortieth anniversary with their adult children: LAURA, 38, and MIKE, 35

SFX: restaurant murmur, a waiter's footsteps

MIKETo forty years. Mom, Dad, you're the reason I believe in marriage.
LAURAHear, hear.
PHILThank you, son. That's lovely.
JOANVery lovely. Phil, do you want to tell them?
PHILYou tell them.
JOANWe said you'd tell them.
PHILI said I'd tell them if it was raining. It isn't raining.
LAURATell us what?
JOANWe're separating.
MIKE...What?
JOANNot divorcing. Separating. Your father's moving to the cabin in Maine. I'm keeping the house.
LAURAYou're joking. It's your anniversary.
PHILThat's why we picked tonight. Everybody's here.
MIKEYou just toasted forty years!
PHILIt was a very good forty years. That's why we're stopping now. While we're ahead.
LAURAAre you seeing somebody?
JOANOh, for heaven's sake, Laura.
PHILI'm seeing a lake. And a boat I'm going to fix. And about four thousand books I haven't read because your mother likes the TV on.
JOANAnd I'm seeing my own closet. For the first time since 1985.
MIKEThis is insane. Is this a midlife crisis?
PHILI'm sixty-eight, Michael. If this is midlife, I'm delighted.
LAURAAre you fighting? Is it something we did?
JOANSweetheart, we're not fighting. We haven't fought in years. We just want different weather.
MIKEYou don't even like each other anymore?
PHILNo. We still like each other. That's the point. We'd like to keep it that way.
JOANHe's going to call every Sunday. I'm going up in August.
PHILShe's going to tell me the boat's a waste of money.
JOANIt is a waste of money.
LAURA...You're serious. You're actually happy about this.
JOANWe are, honey. Can you try to be happy for us?
MIKEI need a minute.
PHILTake a minute. Take the bread. We ordered the good wine.
LAURASo who gets Christmas?
JOANOh, we'll all be at the house for Christmas. Your father's not leaving the family. He's just leaving the thermostat.
PHILSixty-eight degrees, Joan. Sixty-eight degrees. For forty years.

What it is for: A fortieth-anniversary dinner at which the parents announce they are separating, happily. The children take it much worse than the couple does.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing Joan and Phil as sad. They are relieved, and a little giddy. The adult kids think they are the grown-ups; the scene reverses that. The turn is 'We still like each other. That's the point.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a mature couple with genuine ease together, and grown children who instantly become teenagers again.

Beginners, Please

Backstage drama, theatreAnyNeutral BritishOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.5 min

Cast: KWAMEPIPCELIAJOSH

A dressing room in a regional theatre, 7:15 p.m. PIP, 40, the stage manager, holds a clipboard. DAME CELIA, 70, the leading lady, sits wrapped in a scarf with no voice. JOSH, 24, her understudy for the evening, emerges from the loo. KWAME, 45, the director, bursts in

SFX: a tannoy crackle: 'Fifteen minutes, please. Fifteen minutes.'

KWAMEWhat's happened? Somebody said "voice." Why is everybody saying "voice"?
PIPCelia's lost hers.
KWAMELost it where?
CELIA...Gone.
KWAMEGone? Gone how? Celia, you were doing scales at six.
PIPShe was doing scales at six. At six-fifteen she did the high note in act two to show the stage door man. At six-sixteen, gone.
CELIA...Worth it.
KWAMERight. Right. Understudy.
PIPThe understudy for Lady Agatha is Monica. Monica's in Scarborough at her sister's wedding.
KWAMEWhy is Monica in Scarborough?
PIPBecause you signed her leave form, Kwame.
KWAMEThen who...
JOSHMe. Um. Hello. Me.
KWAMEYou're the understudy for the butler.
JOSHAnd I'm covering the second understudy. For Agatha. It's in my contract. Page four.
KWAMEYou're a man.
JOSHSo was every Agatha until about 1660.
CELIA...Ha.
PIPJosh, you've been sick twice.
JOSHThree times. The third was very small.
KWAMEDo you know it? Do you actually know it?
JOSHI know it. I know every word. I've watched her every night for eight weeks from the wings. I know where she breathes.
CELIA...Show him.
JOSHWhat?
CELIAShow him. Act two.
JOSH"Do not speak to me of love, Mr. Crane. I have buried two husbands and a Pekinese, and I will not bury my heart as well."
KWAME...
PIPKwame?
KWAMEThat's... not bad.
CELIAIt's good.
JOSHYou can talk!
CELIAOnly... a little. Don't... tell anyone. Go.
PIPWardrobe, we need the purple gown in a larger size, and we need it in ten minutes.
KWAMEPip, what do I tell the audience?
PIPTell them tonight, Lady Agatha has a slightly deeper voice. And a beard, if Josh doesn't shave in the next nine minutes.
JOSHI'm shaving. I'm shaving!

SFX: the tannoy again: 'Beginners, please.'

JOSHThat's me.
CELIABreathe... where I breathe.
JOSHEvery time.

What it is for: Fifteen minutes to curtain, the leading lady has lost her voice, and the understudy is in the toilet being sick. A backstage ensemble in real time.
Coach's note: Watch out for making the stage manager hysterical. Pip is the calmest person in the building. Dame Celia communicates in croaks and gestures. Josh, the understudy, must turn from terrified to ready in one beat: 'I know it. I know every word.'
What casting listens for: Casting listens for comedy that grows from panic, and for the moment the scene turns sincere without anyone telling you.

The Night Porter's Story

Mystery, radio-play whodunnitMature (55+)Neutral AmericanOne narrator2 minutesabout 2.7 min

Cast: NARRATORMRS. CARLISLEMOSSEDDIELOTTIE

The Grand Palms Hotel, Miami, 1952. NARRATOR and EDDIE are the same actor: Eddie Doyle, the night porter, now in his 60s, looking back on the night. DETECTIVE MOSS, 40s, female. MRS. CARLISLE, 70s, a wealthy guest. LOTTIE, 19, a chambermaid

SFX: ceiling fans, distant surf, a jazz record through a wall

NARRATORI worked the night desk at the Grand Palms for twenty-six years. I saw a lot of things. Most of them I forgot on purpose. But I never forgot the night of the Carlisle diamonds.
MRS. CARLISLEThey were on the dresser at ten. I remember it precisely. I took them off before my bath.
MOSSAnd the door was locked?
MRS. CARLISLEOf course it was locked. I'm not a fool, Detective.
MOSSWho has keys to the suite?
EDDIEThe desk has a master. The maids have one each. That's all.
NARRATORI said it plainly. I didn't look at Lottie. I didn't have to. Everybody else did.
LOTTIEI didn't go in! I did the turndown at eight, and that's all. The necklace wasn't even out then.
MOSSHow do you know it wasn't out?
LOTTIEBecause... because I'd have seen it. I always look. It's so pretty.
MRS. CARLISLEThere. She admits it.
MOSSShe admits she has eyes, Mrs. Carlisle. Mr. Doyle, where was the master key between ten and midnight?
EDDIEOn the hook. Behind the desk. Where it always is.
NARRATORAnd that was the truth. Mostly.
MOSSYou never left the desk?
EDDIEOnce. For a smoke. Five minutes. Maybe six.
MOSSWhat time?
EDDIEAround eleven.
NARRATORIt was closer to ten-thirty. I don't know why I said eleven. Habit, maybe. Or maybe because I'd seen somebody by the desk when I came back in, and I didn't want to have seen it.
MOSSDid anyone come through the lobby?
EDDIENo, ma'am. Quiet night.
LOTTIEMr. Doyle. That's not right. Mr. Carlisle came down. I saw him from the stairs. He asked if you were around.
MRS. CARLISLEMy husband was asleep.
LOTTIEHe was in his dressing gown. He had something in his pocket. It was heavy. It swung.
MOSSMr. Doyle?
NARRATORTwenty-six years, and I only told one lie on that desk. And a nineteen-year-old maid undid it in four sentences.
EDDIE...He tipped me ten dollars, Detective. To not see him.
MOSSThen you'd better start seeing.

What it is for: A hotel night porter's story, told to a detective with a narrator. A radio-play mystery that trains distinct characters, period flavour and a narrator who is also a suspect.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the narrator neutral. The narrator is Eddie, the porter, remembering, so he colours everything. Detective Moss is sharp and a little bored. Mrs. Carlisle is grand; Lottie the maid is scared. The turn is when Eddie's narration and his dialogue stop matching.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a narrator who slides cleanly between storytelling and scene, and period voices that sound lived in rather than put on.

The Last Slice

Mystery, radio-play whodunnitAnyNeutral BritishOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.8 min

Cast: NARRATORCRANETEDDYMOSSPEARLLADY HARRIET

Fallowmere Hall, a country house in 1934, a radio-play in the classic style. NARRATOR, any voice. INSPECTOR ADA CRANE, 50s. LADY HARRIET VANE, 60s, the hostess. DR. JULIAN MOSS, 40s, the family doctor. PEARL, 20s, the cook. CAPTAIN TEDDY FARR, 30s, the late Sir Roland's nephew

SFX: a fire in a grate, rain against tall windows, a clock

NARRATORThey were gathered in the library at nine, as the inspector had asked. Sir Roland Vane had died at dinner the night before, over the last slice of his own birthday cake.
CRANEThank you all for coming.
TEDDYWe were rather told to come, Inspector.
CRANESo you were, Captain. Let's begin with you. Your uncle changed his will on Tuesday.
TEDDYDid he? News to me.
CRANEHe cut you out entirely. Your debts were mentioned. By name.
TEDDYThen I can hardly have killed him for it, can I?
CRANEUnless you're lying. Dr. Moss.
MOSSInspector.
CRANEYou signed the death certificate within the hour. Heart failure.
MOSSHe had a weak heart. I'd treated him for eleven years.
CRANEAnd yet you kept the plate.
MOSS...I'm a careful man.
CRANEYou're a frightened man. You suspected, and said nothing, because his death wiped out the four thousand pounds you owed him.
MOSSThat is not a crime.
CRANENo. But it is a reason. Pearl.
PEARLI only made the cake, miss. Lemon and elderflower. Same as every year.
CRANEWho cut it?
PEARLI did. In the kitchen. Seven slices. I brought them up on the silver tray.
CRANEAnd which slice went to Sir Roland?
PEARLThe last one. He always had the last slice. He said it had the most luck in it. The whole house knew.
TEDDYWell, there you are. Anyone could have done it.
CRANEAnyone could have poisoned the last slice. But the tray was in the kitchen from six until seven, and the only people in the kitchen were Pearl and one other.
PEARLHer Ladyship came down. To see the cake.
LADY HARRIETI often go down to the kitchen. It's my house.
CRANEOf course. Lady Harriet, did you touch the cake?
LADY HARRIETI admired it. I did not touch it.
CRANEThe laboratory found foxglove on that plate. Digitalis. The very medicine the doctor prescribed for your husband's heart, in a dose that would stop a horse.
MOSSI kept his medicine locked in my bag.
CRANEWhere was your bag, Doctor, from six until seven?
MOSSIn the hall. Where I always leave it.
NARRATORFor a moment nobody spoke. Then Lady Harriet reached, very calmly, for a cigarette.
LADY HARRIETThis is absurd. Anyone could have walked through that hall. Pearl, for instance.
PEARLI never left the kitchen, my lady. Not once.
CRANELady Harriet, last night you told the constable your husband complained the icing tasted bitter. But he never said a word. He took one bite and fell.
LADY HARRIET...He always complained about something.
CRANEHe did. But not this time. The only person in this house who knew that icing would taste bitter is the person who put the foxglove in it.
NARRATORThe cigarette never reached her lips.
TEDDYAunt Harriet?
LADY HARRIETThirty-one years, Teddy. Thirty-one years of that man having the last slice of everything.
CRANEConstable. Take her ladyship to the car. Gently, please. It's raining.

What it is for: The drawing-room reveal of a country-house radio mystery. A narrator, a detective and four suspects, each of whom gets one moment to crack.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting Inspector Crane do a monologue. She works the room one suspect at a time, and each one interrupts. Every suspect must sound guilty of something, just not the same thing. Lady Harriet's slip is the bitter icing: she knows something only the poisoner could know, and Crane lets her hang herself with it. Narrator: give the pause before it, then get out of the way.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for six clean, distinct characters in a genre with a strong house style, and whether the reveal lands without melodrama.

Verdict

Courtroom drama, jury roomAnyNeutral AmericanOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.8 min

Cast: FRANKDERRICKJANINEHELENPETEROSA

A jury room in a county courthouse, day two, 4 p.m. FRANK, 58, the foreperson, a bus driver. ROSA, 23, a waitress. HELEN, 67, a retired librarian. DERRICK, 40, an accountant. JANINE, 35, a nurse. PETE, 71, a veteran. The vote is being taken by show of hands

SFX: a clock, a radiator, paper cups

FRANKOkay. Final vote. Not guilty, hands up.
DERRICKHere.
JANINEYep.
HELENNot guilty.
PETENot guilty.
FRANKRosa?
ROSA...
FRANKRosa, is that a hand?
ROSAIt's half a hand.
DERRICKIt's either a hand or it isn't.
ROSACan I say something first?
FRANKOf course.
ROSAThe alibi. He said he was at the Starlight Diner on Fifth from ten until one in the morning. And the waitress backed him up. Carla. Carla said she served him pie.
HELENThat was very convincing testimony.
ROSAI work at the Starlight.
JANINEWhat?
ROSANot that night. I work weekends. But I know Carla. And the Starlight closes at midnight on Wednesdays. It's been midnight on Wednesdays since last spring. They cut the hours.
PETEHow do you know that?
ROSABecause I asked for the Wednesday late shift. They told me there wasn't one.
DERRICKThat's... that's not evidence. That wasn't presented.
JANINEThe defense said ten to one. Nobody challenged it.
HELENThe prosecution must have checked.
ROSAMaybe they didn't. Maybe they didn't think anyone would know.
FRANKWhy didn't you say so before?
ROSAThey asked if I knew the defendant. I don't. They asked if I knew the witnesses. I didn't know Carla's last name. I didn't realise it was her until she walked in. And then I was scared to say anything.
PETEWhy?
ROSABecause Carla's got two kids and she's always behind on rent. And I kept thinking, why would she lie? And I think I know why. And I don't want it to be true.
DERRICKWe're not allowed to use what we know outside the courtroom. That's the rule. It's the first thing they told us.
HELENHe's right, dear. We decide on the evidence.
JANINEBut if the evidence is a lie...
HELENThen that's for the lawyers.
PETEThe lawyers aren't in this room.
DERRICKSo what do we do? Guess? We send a man to prison because a waitress thinks a diner closed early?
ROSAI don't want to send anybody to prison. I just can't put my hand up and say I believe something I know isn't true.
FRANK...
JANINEFrank?
FRANKI drove the number nine bus for thirty years. I know the Starlight. I've seen it dark at midnight. I never thought about it until now.
DERRICKFrank.
FRANKNo, Derrick. We don't get to use it. You're right. But we also don't get to pretend we didn't hear it.
HELENSo what are you saying?
FRANKThen we tell the judge. We write a note. We say a juror has information she didn't know was relevant when she was picked. And we let the judge decide what that means.
DERRICKThat could be a mistrial. Two weeks of our lives.
PETEI've wasted two weeks on worse.
JANINEI'll sign it.
HELEN...So will I. Heaven help us.
DERRICKTerrible idea. Fine. Give me the pen.
ROSAI'm sorry.
FRANKDon't be sorry. You're the only one of us who was paying attention.

What it is for: A jury about to acquit, and the youngest juror realises she knows the alibi is false from her own life. A six-hander about rules, conscience and courage.
Coach's note: Watch out for making it a debate club. Everybody is tired and wants to be kind. Rosa is terrified, and her information comes out in the wrong order. Frank, the foreperson, is the one who has to choose, and his turn is 'Then we tell the judge.' Give the others space to be genuinely split.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for six clearly different Americans in age, energy and background, and a young woman who holds the centre without ever raising her voice.

The Final Edition

Newsroom drama, deadlineMature (55+)Neutral AmericanOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.9 min

Cast: DEBBIEHECTORJAKEMARIONLILY

The newsroom of the Harlow Ledger, a small-town weekly in Pennsylvania, 10:20 p.m. on the night of its last issue. MARION, 64, the editor and owner. HECTOR, 78, who has run the press for fifty years. DEBBIE, 50, ad sales and everything else. JAKE, 24, the only reporter. LILY, 19, the summer intern, on her last day

SFX: an old press warming up in the next room, a radio scanner, a cork popping

DEBBIETo the Harlow Ledger. A hundred and twelve years. Every Thursday, rain or shine.
HECTORExcept the flood of '72.
DEBBIEExcept the flood of '72.
JAKEWhat happened in '72?
HECTORThe press was under four feet of water. We printed on a mimeograph in the church basement. Eight hundred copies. My hands were purple for a month.
MARIONAnd we never missed another issue. Until next Thursday.
LILYI'm sorry. I know I've only been here since June. But this is a really sad party.
JAKEShe's not wrong. Debbie's been crying into the potato salad since nine.
DEBBIEI have allergies, Jake.
MARIONIt's a wake, honey. Wakes are sad. Have some cake.
DEBBIEFront page is locked. "Thank You, Harlow." Photo of all of us on the steps. Hector's blinking.
HECTORI always blink.
JAKEFinal press run at eleven?
HECTOREleven. Then I turn her off for the last time.

SFX: the scanner crackles: 'Engine four, respond, structure fire, Mill Street, the old Kessler building'

LILYWhat was that?
JAKEThat's a fire. Mill Street.
MARIONThe Kessler building?
DEBBIEThat's the library annex. They moved the town archive in there in March.
MARION...Everything? The whole archive?
DEBBIEEvery Ledger back to 1911. Bound volumes. It's the only full set.
JAKEI'm going.
MARIONTake the camera. Lily, go with him.
LILYMe?
MARIONYou. Notebook. Names, times, who's in charge. Spell everything twice.
LILYOkay. Okay!
MARIONHector, how long can you hold the press?
HECTORFor the last issue? As long as you need, Marion. Till dawn, if you want.
MARIONDebbie, I need page one open.
DEBBIEBut "Thank You, Harlow"...
MARIONGoes to page two. The town will understand. This is what we're for.

SFX: time passes: the scanner, a phone ringing, footsteps running in

JAKEI'm back. Fire's under control. Nobody hurt.
MARIONThe archive?
JAKEHalf of it. The east wing's gone. But Lily...
LILYThe fire chief let three volunteers carry out boxes before the roof went. They got 1911 to 1960. I have all their names. I got a quote. And a picture. It's a bit blurry.
DEBBIELet me see. ...Oh, it's a good picture.
MARIONIt is a good picture. Jake, four hundred words. Lily, you're sharing the byline.
LILYI have a byline? My mom is going to frame it. She's going to frame it and hang it in the bathroom.
MARIONOn the last front page of the Harlow Ledger. Don't let it go to your head.
JAKE1961 onward. That's gone?
HECTORNot all of it. Not by a long way.
MARIONHector?
HECTORI kept a copy. Every issue I ever printed. Fifty years. In my garage. My wife said I was a hoarder.
DEBBIEEvery issue since 1974?
HECTORSince 1972. The mimeographs too. Purple.
MARION...Put that in the story, Jake.
JAKEAlready typing.
HECTORPage one's closed?
MARIONPage one's closed.
HECTORThen let's print her. One last time. Properly.

What it is for: The last night of a century-old small-town paper, when a real story breaks forty minutes before the final press run. Five voices, one deadline and a lot of goodbye.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the whole thing elegiac. The first half is a wake, the second is a newsroom, and the switch is 'That's a fire.' From there, everyone's pace doubles and nobody gets to be sad until the last beat. Marion drives. Hector gets the last word, so save something for it.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for ensemble pace changes and for older voices that can snap into urgency without losing warmth.

Thanksgiving, Take Two

Family drama, dinnerMature (55+)Southern USOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.9 min

Cast: DELORESBENCAROLYNTASHAPEARL

A kitchen in Charleston, South Carolina, Thanksgiving Day. The first holiday for two families since TASHA, 29, married BEN, 30. Tasha's mother, DELORES, 58, is hosting. Ben's mother, CAROLYN, 60, has brought a pie. Tasha's grandmother, PEARL, 86, sits at the kitchen table with iced tea

SFX: an oven door, a smoke alarm beginning to beep

DELORESIt's fine. Everything's fine. Ben, honey, get the towel.
BENWhich towel?
DELORESAny towel. Wave it at the alarm.

SFX: the beeping stops

CAROLYNIs that the turkey?
DELORESThat's the outside of the turkey.
TASHAMama, it's black.
DELORESIt's blackened. It's a style. They do it in Louisiana.
CAROLYNThey do fish in Louisiana, Delores.
DELORESWell, today they do turkey.
PEARLI told you three-twenty-five.
DELORESMama, I've been making this turkey for thirty years.
PEARLYou've been making it at three-twenty-five for thirty years. Today you did four-fifty.
DELORESBecause we were running late, because some people were forty minutes late.
CAROLYNThere was traffic on the bridge!
BENMom, there wasn't traffic. You changed your blouse three times.
CAROLYNBenjamin!
TASHAOkay. Okay. Everybody breathe. We have sides. We have the mac and cheese. We have Carolyn's pie.
CAROLYNIt's a pecan pie. My mother's recipe. It's been in the family four generations.
PEARLMm.
CAROLYNI'm sorry, Miss Pearl?
PEARLI didn't say a word.
CAROLYNYou said "mm."
PEARL"Mm" is not a word, honey. It's an opinion.
DELORESMama, be nice.
PEARLI am being nice. If I wasn't being nice, I'd tell her about the dressing.
TASHAWhat about the dressing?
DELORESNothing about the dressing. Mama.
PEARLI'm eighty-six years old. I'm not taking it to the grave.
BENTaking what to the grave?
PEARLThe famous family dressing. Delores's famous dressing. That everybody at church asks for. Every year.
DELORESMama, don't you dare.
PEARLIt comes in a box. It has always come in a box. I bought it at the grocery store in 1971, and I put it in my good dish and I added celery, and your daddy said it was the best dressing he'd ever had. So I never told him. And then I never told you. And then I told you, Delores, when you got married, and you never told anybody.
TASHAIt's from a box?
DELORESIt's from a box with celery.
BENI asked you for that recipe. You said it was a family secret.
DELORESIt is a family secret! It's just not a very good one.
CAROLYN...Oh, thank the Lord.
DELORESWhat?
CAROLYNThe pie. It's a frozen pie. From the store. I put it in my mother's pie dish and crimped the edge with a fork.
TASHACarolyn!
CAROLYNFour generations of women in my family have bought that pie, Tasha. That's the tradition.
PEARLMm.
CAROLYNAnd what does that "mm" mean?
PEARLThat means I like you better now.
DELORESSo we've got a burnt turkey, a box of dressing and a frozen pie.
BENAnd mac and cheese.
TASHAIs the mac and cheese real?
DELORESThe mac and cheese is real, baby. I'd never lie about the mac and cheese.
PEARLThat's true. She wouldn't.
CAROLYNWell. Let's cut the black off that bird. There's got to be something in the middle.
DELORESYou'd help?
CAROLYNI've burnt more turkeys than you've had hot dinners, Delores. Hand me a knife.
TASHABen, are you crying?
BENA little. It's the smoke. It's mostly the smoke.

What it is for: Two families' first Thanksgiving together, a ruined turkey and a thirty-year kitchen secret. A comic ensemble with a warm, real centre.
Coach's note: Watch out for playing the mothers as rivals from line one. They are both trying desperately to be gracious, which is funnier. Grandma Pearl is not senile; she is strategic. The turn is her confession. Ben and Tasha, the young couple, should feel like the only sane people in the room until they aren't.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for Southern voices with range: gentility, sass, and one very dry grandmother.

The Lifeboat Meeting

Community drama, village meetingAnyIrishOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.9 min

Cast: NORAKAVANAGHPADDYSINEADAOIFE

A community hall in a fishing village on the west coast of Ireland, a winter evening. MR. KAVANAGH, 50, from the national sea-rescue service. NORA, 62, chair of the harbour committee. PADDY, 70, a retired fisherman. SINEAD, 40, a publican and lifeboat volunteer. AOIFE, 17, sits at the back with her mother

SFX: wind against windows, a full hall murmuring, then quiet

NORAMr. Kavanagh, you've heard the room. You might as well give us the rest of it.
KAVANAGHThank you, Nora. I know this isn't easy. The service has reviewed every station on this coast. This station launched four times last year. The one at Carrowmore launched sixty-one. We have one new boat. It can go to one place.
PADDYAnd that place isn't here.
KAVANAGHThe boat from Carrowmore can reach your harbour in thirty-five minutes.
PADDYThirty-five minutes. Have you ever been in that water in January, Mr. Kavanagh?
KAVANAGHI have, as it happens.
PADDYFor how long?
KAVANAGHNot long.
PADDYTwelve minutes, you get, before your hands stop working. My brother went in off the Hag's Rock in 1979. Our boat was there in eight. He's in the front row. Wave, Michael.
SINEADFour launches, you say. I crewed on three of them. That's three people alive who might not be. You can't put that on a spreadsheet.
KAVANAGHSinead, I can, and I have to. That's my job. I'd rather it wasn't.
NORAWhat would it take to keep it open?
KAVANAGHHonestly? A case the review didn't see. Something the numbers miss.
NORAIs there anyone else who wants to speak? Anyone at all?

SFX: a chair scraping at the back

AOIFEMe. I want to. Sorry.
NORAAoife. Go on, pet.
AOIFEI'm Aoife Doherty. I don't really do talking in front of people, so, sorry.
KAVANAGHTake your time.
AOIFELast August, I took my cousin's kayak out past the point. Which I shouldn't have. Everybody knows that. And the wind changed. And I went over. And I couldn't get back in. I tried for ages.
SINEADI remember.
AOIFEI had a whistle. Which is the only thing I did right. And Mrs. Ryan heard it from her garden and rang it in. And Sinead's boat came. It was eleven minutes. I know because Mrs. Ryan timed it. She's very precise.
PADDYShe is.
AOIFEI was so cold I couldn't hold the rope. Sinead had to lift me in. And I remember thinking, eleven minutes is a very long time. And I've been thinking since. Thirty-five minutes.
KAVANAGH...
AOIFEI wouldn't be here. That's all. That's the thing the numbers miss. It's me. I'm the thing. Sorry. That's it. I'll sit down now.
NORADon't sit down yet, love. Mr. Kavanagh?
KAVANAGHWas that launch in the report?
SINEADIt was logged as "kayak, recovered, no injury."
KAVANAGH"No injury."
AOIFEI was fine. After.
KAVANAGHNora, I'll be honest. I can't promise you anything tonight.
NORAWe're not asking for tonight.
KAVANAGHBut I can ask for the review to be reopened. With response times, not launch numbers. And a statement from everyone this boat has pulled out of the water.
PADDYMichael will give you one. He's been waiting forty-five years to give it.
SINEADI'll get you twenty names by Friday.
KAVANAGHAnd Aoife's first.
AOIFEMe? Do I have to talk again?
NORAJust write it down, pet. Exactly like you said it. Leave in all the sorrys.

What it is for: A coastal village meeting over the closure of its lifeboat station, where a young woman nobody expected to speak changes the vote. Community drama with a strong emotional build.
Coach's note: Watch out for letting the official be the villain. Mr. Kavanagh has a budget and a real point. Each villager argues from their own life. The turn is Aoife standing up, and her speech must never become a speech: she keeps losing her thread, and the room waits for her.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for a varied Irish ensemble, from official to fisherman to schoolgirl, and whether a quiet young voice can carry the climax.

Operation Kestrel

Police procedural, briefingAdult (40-55)Neutral BritishOne narrator3 minutesabout 3.6 min

Cast: ROWEBRADYGRANTHUSSAINNOLAN

A major crimes office in Manchester, 5 a.m. DCI CATHERINE ROWE, 50, stands at a whiteboard. DS LIAM BRADY, 38, Northern Irish, second in command. DC ZARA HUSSAIN, 29, sharp and ambitious. DC GARY NOLAN, 45, a long-serving detective. PC ELLA GRANT, 26, from the tactical unit

SFX: a strip light buzzing, rain, a kettle clicking off

ROWEOperation Kestrel. We go in at six. Target address is the unit on Canal Street. Liam.
BRADYTwo vans, eight officers. Front and back. Tactical on the door, us behind.
ROWEElla, you're first through.
GRANTMa'am.
ROWEGary, you're on the back with me. Zara, you're with Liam at the front.
HUSSAINMa'am, can I ask why we've moved it?
ROWEMoved it?
HUSSAINIt was Tuesday. On Friday's briefing, you said Tuesday. At the warehouse on Pollard Road.
ROWEIt was. Tuesday was a lie.
NOLANSorry, ma'am?
ROWEI told this team, and only this team, that we'd raid Pollard Road on Tuesday. On Sunday night, the Pollard Road warehouse was cleared out. Every box. Somebody told them.
BRADYCatherine, you didn't tell me.
ROWEI didn't tell anyone, Liam. That's rather the point.
GRANTI wasn't in the Friday briefing, ma'am.
ROWENo, Ella. You weren't. That's why you're first through the door this morning.
HUSSAINSo it's one of us four.
ROWEOne of you four. Or me. I've considered that. I've ruled myself out.
NOLANThis is a bit much at five in the morning.
ROWEIt's a lot much, Gary. Eighteen months of work.
BRADYSo why tell us about Canal Street at all? If there's a leak, it'll get out.
ROWEThere's no time for it to get out. We leave in twenty minutes. Nobody leaves this room. Phones on the table. Now, please.

SFX: four phones placed on a desk, one after another

HUSSAINMa'am, with respect, I've got nothing to hide.
ROWEGood. Then you won't mind. Ella, would you collect those?
GRANTMa'am.
NOLANMine's a work phone. There's nothing on it but rotas.
ROWEGary, how's your mum?
NOLAN...Sorry?
ROWEYour mum. The care home in Salford. The one you told me is costing you eleven hundred a month.
NOLANShe's fine. Why?
ROWEBecause the fees got paid off. In full. On Monday morning. The home rang to update the next-of-kin details. They rang the office by mistake. They got me.
NOLANMy brother paid it.
ROWEYour brother's in Spain, Gary. And he's been in Spain since 2015. With no job.
BRADYGary?
NOLAN...
HUSSAINGary, tell her it's not you.
NOLANIt's eleven hundred a month, Zara. On my salary. She doesn't know where she is half the time. But she knows if I'm not there.
GRANTMa'am?
ROWELiam, take Gary's warrant card. Zara, you're with me at the back. Ella, you're still first through the door.
BRADYWe're still going?
ROWEWe're still going. Canal Street is real. Gary didn't know until five minutes ago, and his phone's been on the table for four of them.
NOLANCatherine. I'm sorry.
ROWEI know you are. I'm sorry about your mum. I'll make sure someone visits her. Vans, everybody. Six o'clock.

What it is for: A pre-raid briefing where the senior officer uses a false detail to find the leak in her own team. A tense five-hander that plays like a trap closing.
Coach's note: Watch out for telegraphing the twist. DCI Rowe must sound like she is running an ordinary briefing; the audience should only realise what she is doing on 'The Tuesday was a lie.' Each officer needs a real personality, so the leak could plausibly be any of them. After the reveal, keep it quiet and fast, not shouty.
What casting listens for: Casting listens for controlled authority, clear status between ranks, and a guilty character who gives nothing away until one line.

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