Acting help pls

[Speckled snek]

I'm in a stage combut class and I'm playing captain hook. My partner and I were looking for some knife / stabbing puns for the end, because she is going to stabbing me. Please help!

[TheGrimPeddler]

Well... the biggest question by the end of it is "did you get her point?"

You could say that there's a sharp wit involved.

Perhaps she made a very pointed argument.

Hook is probably not actually left handed. (Cookies for the first one to get the reference).

The disrespect she shows wounds you deeply.

Oh, and mayhap this battle was thrust upon you?

Fortunately, you've got a mean left hook.

(If you guys are over 18) You could always brag your blade is bigger than Pan's.

Of course, Pan's not overcompensating.

[Ninja_Prawn]

Do you read the comic in the sidebar? Elan makes stabbing puns all the time, since it's required to trigger one of his class features (http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0390.html).

[Tvtyrant]

Captain Hook has a lot to draw from:
Pirate puns
Hook puns
Sword puns
Old man obsessed wit kids puns

"Don't think you are off the hook just yet!"
Gets stabbed in butt "Never touch a pirates booty!"

[Bastian Weaver]

Stage combat is awesome.
Don't forget that if you're dealing with Captain Hook, you could also use clock/crocodile jokes! Tick-tock, captain.

[Vinyadan]

I'm hooked!

[Jay R]

Don't improvise jokes in the middle of a stage combat scene. Everything should be completely scripted and practiced, to stay safe.

[Lvl 2 Expert]

I'd take a stab at it, but if I make the sharpest remark here I'll never be let of the hook, and I'll be asked to point out sword pun after soared pun, even though the pen is mightier than the sword, because you can't spell sword without word. I also don't want to put to fine a point on it, but if we use up all future puns Elan could use the giant is going to be crossed with us, and then we're playing by the sharp of the sword. So I've decided I'm not lowering myself to your level when pixie dust will get me the high I need.

Okay, a bunch of those aren't very funny, and I'm on the fence about a few more. That was just forcing it.

[Jay R]

Wait -- does this mean that you are taking James Barrie's excellent play, and re-writing it with puns from the Internet?

I'm ... not sure that's a good idea.

[Vinyadan]

Don't improvise jokes in the middle of a stage combat scene. Everything should be completely scripted and practiced, to stay safe.

Come on, the crowd loves the blood!

[Aedilred]

Wait -- does this mean that you are taking James Barrie's excellent play, and re-writing it with puns from the Internet?

I'm ... not sure that's a good idea.

It could be a pantomime.

[Jay R]

Come on, the crowd loves the blood!

Yeah, it's great for opening night. But the second performance loses something.

[Bastian Weaver]

Wait -- does this mean that you are taking James Barrie's excellent play, and re-writing it with puns from the Internet?

I'm ... not sure that's a good idea.

It could be Rick Elice's Peter and the Starcatchers. You know, based on the prequel by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. Nice book, I liked it.

[Insane Jeenyus]

Hook could tell Pan that his weapon looks as sharp as a fence post and any cutting remarks should be abandoned. he should also mention that Pan should not be such a sword loser.

Or Hook could say that for an opponent who is just a boy to fight a grown man is a total crock.

[Jay R]

Well, you might consider this approach.


“Put up your swords, boys,” cried the newcomer, “this man is mine.”

Thus suddenly Hook found himself face to face with Peter. The others drew back and formed a ring around them.

For long the two enemies looked at one another, Hook shuddering slightly, and Peter with the strange smile upon his face.

“So, Pan,” said Hook at last, “this is all your doing.”

“Ay, James Hook,” came the stern answer, “it is all my doing.”

“Proud and insolent youth,” said Hook, “prepare to meet thy doom.”

“Dark and sinister man,” Peter answered, “have at thee.”

Without more words they fell to, and for a space there was no advantage to either blade. Peter was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzling rapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that got past his foe’s defence, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home. Hook, scarcely his inferior in brilliancy, but not quite so nimble in wrist play, forced him back by the weight of his onset, hoping suddenly to end all with a favourite thrust, taught him long ago by Barbecue at Rio; but to his astonishment he found this thrust turned aside again and again. Then he sought to close and give the quietus with his iron hook, which all this time had been pawing the air; but Peter doubled under it and, lunging fiercely, pierced him in the ribs. At the sight of his own blood, whose peculiar colour, you remember, was offensive to him, the sword fell from Hook’s hand, and he was at Peter’s mercy.

“Now!” cried all the boys, but with a magnificent gesture Peter invited his opponent to pick up his sword. Hook did so instantly, but with a tragic feeling that Peter was showing good form.

Hitherto he had thought it was some fiend fighting him, but darker suspicions assailed him now.

“Pan, who and what art thou?” he cried huskily.

“I’m youth, I’m joy,” Peter answered at a venture, “I’m a little bird that has broken out of the egg.”

This, of course, was nonsense; but it was proof to the unhappy Hook that Peter did not know in the least who or what he was, which is the very pinnacle of good form.

“To’t again,” he cried despairingly.

He fought now like a human flail, and every sweep of that terrible sword would have severed in twain any man or boy who obstructed it; but Peter fluttered round him as if the very wind it made blew him out of the danger zone. And again and again he darted in and pricked.

Hook was fighting now without hope. That passionate breast no longer asked for life; but for one boon it craved: to see Peter show bad form before it was cold forever.

Abandoning the fight he rushed into the powder magazine and fired it.

“In two minutes,” he cried, “the ship will be blown to pieces.”

Now, now, he thought, true form will show.

But Peter issued from the powder magazine with the shell in his hands, and calmly flung it overboard.

What sort of form was Hook himself showing? Misguided man though he was, we may be glad, without sympathising with him, that in the end he was true to the traditions of his race. The other boys were flying around him now, flouting, scornful; and he staggered about the deck striking up at them impotently, his mind was no longer with them; it was slouching in the playing fields of long ago, or being sent up [to the headmaster] for good, or watching the wall-game from a famous wall. And his shoes were right, and his waistcoat was right, and his tie was right, and his socks were right.

James Hook, thou not wholly unheroic figure, farewell.

For we have come to his last moment.

Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with dagger poised, he sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea. He did not know that the crocodile was waiting for him; for we purposely stopped the clock that this knowledge might be spared him: a little mark of respect from us at the end.

He had one last triumph, which I think we need not grudge him. As he stood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding through the air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Peter kick instead of stab.

At last Hook had got the boon for which he craved.

“Bad form,” he cried jeeringly, and went content to the crocodile.

Thus perished James Hook.