A play in three acts Written in the style of Alan Bennett
ACT I — "Storms & Schemes"
Setting: Ian’s lounge. Doilies on every surface. A barometer swings wildly.
Characters:
Ian: Retired geography teacher
Marjorie: Sister, knitter of improbable contraptions
Mr. Goffrey: Local councilor and hobby meteorologist
Voiceover: Narrator with melancholic warmth
Scene begins: Rain lashes the windows. Ian scribbles on a pad.
Ian: "See, it’s not just wet. It’s molecular madness out there. Heavy rain releases X-rays! That’s the sort of thing gets published—if your name’s Rutherford and you don’t eat dinner off a tray."
Marjorie (unmoved): "You said that last week about steam. Then boiled your socks trying to prove it."
Voiceover: Ian had ideas. Big ones. The sort that scare cats and short microwaves.
Mr. Goffrey enters, flustered and holding a plunger.
Goffrey: "You heard about the flash in Bingley? Lightning struck a bouncy castle. Inflated three kids and set off someone's pacemaker."
Ian: "Aye! That’s nature doing physical nuclear fusion. TU, pressure, and a cheeky discharge. You get He²⁺, 3e⁻, and a bit of excitement. Like chemistry, but with better sound effects."
ACT II — "The Steam Plaza Initiative"
Setting: Ian’s garage. Blueprints pinned under sausages. Kettle always on.
Scene begins: Ian unveils “STEVE”—the 30x1.5 thermoelectric wonder.
Marjorie: "Is that a colander?"
Ian: "Thermoelectric generator casing. See, we cross heat over thorium salt, get out DC electricity. One megawatt of carbon-free heat. No oil vans. No whiff of nuclear trauma."
Goffrey: "The council’s still recovering from last week’s compost fire. If this works, you’ll be first man since Brunel to make thermal power smell like Yorkshire pudding."
Voiceover: The national grid would pay handsomely. £1.8 million annually for syncing 65 kilowatts. Enough for toast, telly, and a small revolution.
ACT III — "Gridlocked & Glorious"
Setting: Salford Electricity Cooperative's Community Hall. Folding chairs, tepid tea.
Scene begins: Ian presents the Steam Plaza to skeptical townsfolk.
Mrs. Pritchard: "Is it safe? I still have concerns about your solar kettle. Exploded into a pork pie."
Ian: "No fossil fuel. No radioactive soup. Just good honest steam. We’re carbon-zero pioneers—like Jules Verne, but with thermals."
Marjorie (smiling, knitting wires): "I’ve made a hat for the generator. Keeps out condensation and judgment."
Voiceover: And so, in a hall scented with biscuits and ambition, the townsfolk voted. It passed. Steam Plaza was born. Not a revolution, no. Just a bit of heat and hope, wrapped in Yorkshire irony.
Curtain Call
Voiceover (final): They didn’t mean to change the world. Just wanted to warm the house, get paid, and maybe glow a little in the rain. And who knows… maybe X-rays are just nature’s applause.
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