Another exciting week at Cafe C , a big old thespian (don't get over excited its not a mis spelling this post contains no girl on girl action) approached Mr C with a proposition for booking Cafe C for three nights for performances of an exciting new play featuring an internationally aclaimed cast of seasoned actors , there was wild talk of 50 punters per performance plus additional matinees all lapping up the culture and comestibles of Cafe C's .
Ever the cynic Mr C had already cut through the hyperbole and assumed the 'Internationally aclaimed cast' meant a load of out of work cruise ship hoofers , and that the advertising of a play that was being touted as 'a feel good light hearted comedy about aids' may take a smidgeon of finessing.
Too prove her self proclaimed comedic genuise and oscar winning writing skills to a increasingly dubious Mr C , the writer/director of this masterpeice would perform a stand up spot to open Saturday nights Caberet Nite.
Saturday arrived and following numerous diva like telephone calls our Prima Donna arrived and proceeded to demand various props to ensure a set of such hilarity we would not have a dry seat in the house. Apparently a pot of tea placed on a table on stage is comic gold ......
There is no polite way of saying this but her act was unutterable shite . You and I would be hard pushed to sit and write material that was so dull and utterley unfunny . Within ten minutes Mr C was almost having an embelism and the audience was turning nasty . It was highly likely we were about to have a lynching on our hands . Mr C leapt into action and tasked Beast of hunting down Frobisher and getting him dressed and on stage for an emergency 'Crap Bingo with Mavis' intervention.
I found a half cut Frobisher stumbling about in the garden , rushed him upstairs to change .There ensued a farcical 2 minute make over , as Frobi stumbled about trying to get into panty hose and a dress , James's squealing girls slapped make up on his face and myself and James ran about the house trying to retrieve the wig from Lloyd the staffies jaws
You can imagine the state of 'Mavis' when 5 minutes later, he stormed the stage .
If there are lessons to be learned from all this dear reader its dont attempt to put on panty hose in a hurry if your drunk .
Don't allow 8 year olds to do your makeup.
Dogs and wigs don't mix.
Frobisher set was of course a triumph and rumours of him being booed off stage are wildly exagerated.
The upshot of all these shenanigans is the play is no more
I believe the phrase 'You must be F*cking Joking' featured in spirit if not form
Mr C informs me he is now off to have an motivational pep talk with his staff