“You’re performing at Edinburgh Fringe?” “Bring us back a cool present!” “What’s fringe?” “Where are you staying?” “Do they fly you over?” “It’s going to be cold, buy thermals.” “It’s going to be summer, buy a raincoat.” “Have you seen the Mile? It’s crazy!” “Where are you from?” “THIS is the space I’m paying for?” “There’s a fucking castle. Right. There. A fucking castle. Fuck.” “I cannae tell the difference between Australian and New Zealand accents.” “I have a girlfriend back home.” “I can’t even tell what colour the carpet is.” “Want to come oot for a drink?” “They gave HER four stars, so wha the fuck do stars even mean?” “Have you seen Brush? It’s amazing.” “See dis? Wha do you see? Lotsa fuckeeng people right? All derookies flyer here ‘cause dey fink is wha you do. Is not. Is fuckeeng stoopid to flyer here.” “Jus the two punnets of blueberries, bud? Two pound.” “That light points at the wall, sort of to the side so it looks like a wing.” “Chookas!” “I think there was a reviewer in, they had an orange lanyard.” “No of course I didn’t bring bedding.” “So what’s your show about?” “Stay out for a drink?” “Spare some change pal?” “It’s so hard doing it all by yourself.” “Look at the fireworks!” “If you find any feathers, give them to me.” “You need to ge a flyering track that will help geh noh only high-value customers, bu alleeveeATE your spiri. Righ? So ere, I’ll show you.” “Oh shit five stars what the fuck?” “The food here is all white.” “He makes a killin, every year, with the same fuckeeng routine.” “Have you seen Kraken? It’s wonderful” “Haggis is a trap! Don’t do it!” “Go to Tesco and buy food, don’t buy food out, you’ll go broke.” “I’m not bitching I’m just being honest.” “I’m okay.” “There’s a new Mark Ravenhill play at Summerhall, wanna come?” “Your accent has gotten less Australian. You drop all your ‘t’s’ now.” “Spare some change pal?” “The seagulls are evil.” “So what’s your show about?” “Can everyone please do their own washing up?” “I’m glad you’ve gotten into a training routine.” “Where the fuck is Summerhall?” “I miss you.” “I won’t be able to look at feathers the same once this show’s finished.” “I don’t have the same tech person for the run? Okay… The lights point at the wall, sort of to the side so they look like wings, yeah.” “Can I have chilli?” “Just the two punnets of blueberries, bud? Three pound.” “That space is a sauna.” “Can I tell you what I think you should do with the show?” “No, I’m not drinking.” “See dis parf? Beeyotiful day, give ow a flyer, walk along give ow a flyer, there you go laydeees, THIS show is for YOU. Walk along, see, fuckeeng magnificent? People fink tha flyering is all abow givin em ow. Is not. Is abow THE INTERACTION.” “Chookas!” “Are you okay?” “You only have ONE night off performing this whole month?” “He sat in the back row writing the whole time.” “I miss you.” “Your arse was great when you arrived, now it’s a sack of potatoes.” “Aye mun, this record is some Kuh Wallity Stax there Scotty. Put it on. I’ll roll us a wee joint!” “And I felt like saying I can fucking SEE YOU dickhead!” “Congratulations!” “Is she like, ‘important’ or something?” “Do you have the Matt Fraction Uncanny X-Men?” “Jus don worry bow ih man, here, wha you nee to do is climb Arfur’s Seat an spreh your arms an geh your fuckeeng spiri back.” “So what’s your show about?” “The lights point at the wall, sort of to the side so they look like wings, yeah.” “Let’s go this way so we avoid the Mile.” “She’s got a boyfriend, I’ve got a girlfriend, it’s fine, it’s nothing.” “All I wanted was someone that was aligned with my artistic vision. It was just so hard doing it all by myself.” “Spare some change pal?” “It’s Fringe. EVERYONE’S crazy and anxious. Don’t take it personally.” “Next year we should do a Rest Villa or something, a place where you can pick nursery rhymes, cocoa, or songs off a menu and just lie down and go to sleep.” “All I want in my salad is a shit load of colour.” “Dude, you like, just crawled into my bed at four a.m. It was weird.” “It’s the Icarus myth as a metaphor for my life. So yes it has a happy ending.” “Next year we’ll do it right.” “Has anyone seen Kate?” “I just want what every artist wants: some sort of sustainable practice man. To be able to continue.” “Who the fuck ate my curry?” “I’ll meet you on Calton Hill, near the cannon.” “I’ll see you back home.” “It’s Edinburgh Fringe, you can never do it right.” “Just survive.”

Scott Wings is an award-winning physical poetic performer, writer, teacher and co-director of Ruckus Slam.

Photo used under Creative Commons by Phil Richards (Flickr)