Three-minute Crusoe.

My name’s Robinson Crusoe. My dad is from Breman. But really, he’s from Hull. But really, we’re English. And middle-class. Being middle-class was boring, I wanted to go to sea. Dad cried when I told him the news: I bet it’s because he’s not as English as I am. I went to sea with my friend, and my friend’s dad, who forgot to call my parents to get their permission. Sea, sea, sea. Ugh, I got seasick. Then it was stormy. Our boat got wrecked. But we all got on shore. What’s-his-face’s dad told me to go back to England. Too bad. I got on another boat. More sea.  Seaseaseaseaseaseaseaseaseasea. Ooh, pirates! (Don’t worry, I won’t interrupt this monologue with too many exciting pirate tales!) I was a slave for two years. But my master left me in charge of the boat one day, and I escaped with a slave boy named Xury. Xury was loyal and followed me and my new friend the Portuguese captain to Brazil, land of plantations. I bought a plantation and sold Xury: don’t worry, he volunteered for it! I’m not a slaver, I promise! Oh, except then I decided to sail to Africa to collect more slaves for my plantation. Seaseaseaseaseaseaseaseasea. Storm. Shipwreck. Waves. Island. I found a cave. I collected a convenient number of provisions from the shipwreck, including guns. I shot a goat. I built a wall. I built a wall. I built a wall. Here is my journal of my 28 years on the island:

I am building a wall. I am shooting goats. I am shooting cats. I am building a wall around my wall. I am building hedges. I am shooting goats. I am collecting the goats’ children and keeping them in my pens made of hedges. I am killing a tortoise. I am sick from eating a tortoise. Tobacco makes me healthy. I am building a boat to sail to the other side of the island. Other side of the island! Savages! Back to my side of the island. Footprint! Scary footprint! I am scared of the footprint for two years. Savages! I shall rescue one of their captives and he will owe me his life and love me forever. Rescue! “Hello Friday, call me Master.” Friday almost beats me at a debate about theology,  but I laugh and belittle him so that I win! We rescue Spanish sailors from the savages! We rescue Friday’s dad! We rescue a captain from some mutineers! We build a boat and leave the island! Goodbye island! Goodbye journal!

I went back to England. Dad was dead and didn’t leave me anything in the will. So I went back to my plantations to collect all my money and be rich again. Then I went by land to England. I don’t want to talk about the land. Except that there were lots of wolves in these mountains we had to cross. And then Friday danced with a bear. Silly Friday! Hurrah, England! (Da, da, da,  daaah, iiiin ancient times, da, da-da England’s mountain green.)


I liked my island better anways.

And so:

I went back to my island.

28 September 2010 ~ Hamilton


4 thoughts on “Three-minute Crusoe.

  1. “I am building a wall. I am shooting goats. I am shooting cats. I am building a wall around my wall.” Walls have never been funnier.

    You should really turn this into a series of three-minute-novels, -plays, etc.

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