What was the name of his other leg?

This week’s assignment (as far as I could tell) was to create a three line scene from various one line prompts. So I am only responsible for two-thirds of the following dialogue.

“I would like to rent an adz.”
“Get back in your cell, you miscreant.”
“I’m never inviting you to sleep over at my house again.”

“Don’t give me that guff, or I’ll use the hose again.”
“Don’t use that hose! There’s a leak in the main gas line.”
“Now maybe you’ll reconsider signing that check, Mr. Hubbard?”

“You better wash your hands before you kill me.”
“Stop being so melodramatic, Winston. You only need one kidney.”
“Well, as long as the insurance is paying for it…”

“Give me thirty lines of Latin hexameter, or you stay in for lunch.”
“You’ll never get your hands on my poetry, you Philistine!”
“Have it your way. Ms. Beluga, serve him a plate of baked beans!”

“Real druids don’t use velcro on their cloaks.”
“What do you know about the ways of the mystical ones, pale stranger?”
“Get off the hood of my car or I’ll call the cops.”

“Let me show you the best way to hamstring a horse.”
“Are you really my biological father?”
“I’m glad you decided to drop by for Thanksgiving dinner, son.”

Improvising by yourself can be tricky. Improv lives almost entirely in the interaction between people, between characters. What I am doing is not really improv in the stage-play sense of the word, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t improv in some capacity. I am, technically, making up these scenes as I go along, even if I have been stopping and starting, deleting and rephrasing. None of these scenes existed before I gave them my attention. Writing is just improvising by yourself in slow motion.

What I am doing here is more like exercise. (In fact, it is an exercise.) I am trying to strengthen the muscles I need on stage while improvising a scene with a fellow actor. Improv is creating in real time, and my creation is a little rusty right now.