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  1. Context: Mark is a nightclub bouncer who likes his job a bit too much. Would like some comments on my narration and dialogue please :)

    ‘I.D. please’ I say to the two girls who approach the door. One is older than the other, the youngest looks about eighteen, but you can never tell with girls, the make-up and the clothes can deceive you.
    ‘We have already been in there tonight,’ the older one says, ‘we just popped out so she can have a fag,’ she continues.
    ‘I.D. please’ I repeat.
    ‘We left our bags in there with our friends…’ she begins. I’ve heard that one before.
    ‘I.D. please’ I repeat again.
    ‘My I.D. is in my purse, same as hers,’ she indicates her friend with a nod of the head, ‘if you would just let one of us go in to get our bags we can show you our I.D.’
    ‘No’ I say and turn to face another punter who is trying to get in. He is wearing a baseball cap. ‘No hats,’ I say and he grumbles something and moves on.
    ‘Why?’ she asks.
    ‘Why what?’
    ‘Why won’t you let one of us go in to get our bags?’
    ‘Call one of your friends to bring them out.’ I stress the word friends, implying she doesn’t know anyone in there, and I see her start to get angry.
    ‘My phone is in my bag, which is inside there with my friends,’ she jabs a finger forward, pointing over my shoulder.
    I shrug
    ‘So if you won’t let me in to get my bag to prove my age to you, will you find my friends and tell them I’m stuck out here?,’ she pleads – full works – big blue eyes the lot.
    ‘So what do you suggest I do?’ she demands.
    To be honest by this point I am starting to believe her, but I’m not going to appear soft by backing down. So I just shrug again.
    ‘You’re being so awkward!’ she shouts. I have to smile at that.

  2. The setting is a church wedding ceremony....

    'The bride's a couple of minutes away, people!' I informed the guests, in the hope that they would get themselves organised quick sharp.
    I walked up the aisle, calmly, with Tony. But when we got to the altar my heart was pounding with a multitude of emotions. My hands felt clammy, a wave of nausea washed over me.... in short, I was bricking it!
    'Rings?' I asked him, through clenched teeth.
    'Check,' he replied as we assumed our positions in the site of God.
    The organ began and I coughed nervously. I closed my eyes for a moment, mentally praying, as the most ridiculous image popped up.... of the Sex Pistols doing "Here Comes The Bride'' in their own unique way.
    Then - suddenly she was there! at the altar! Yikes! What now??
    I felt faint and clammy. I knew I could do it. It was understandable to be nervous, I told myself, as the Organised finished.
    'Good luck, Johnny mate,' winked the groom to me.
    'And you, bro, ' I whispered back. And so it began.
    'Dearly beloved,' I started, loud and indeed, proudly from my pulpit.
    I didn't know why I'd been so terrified - this was a piece of cake!
    Mind you, I suppose I'd been doubly anxious as it wasn't only the first wedding I'd conducted since my ordination but the wedding of my younger brother to the stunning girl he'd been with since they were just fifteen years old. I felt my whole life depended upon getting it just so.
    And no sooner had it began then I was 'finishing off,' so to speak!
    '...and so, by the power invested in me, by Jesus Christ our lord - I know pronounce you - ''Our Kid'' - husband and you, "Spaghetti Legs Smith,'' - wife'.
    You may kiss the bride'. And so, with my eyes to the ceiling I said a silent 'thank you' to the ''Man Upstairs'' and gave myself an invisible pat on the back. Job done.


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