Audience: 2 extra rows of seats, mainly empty, but it’s the thought that counts.
Friends in: 5! Thanks Cassie, Daneeta, Rachel, Eirian and of course Mairi, hope you enjoyed it!
Well, that was a good one! The audience actually did stuff like laugh, move about, clap and so on. Must be something in the water.
Tonight’s victim, picked from the cream of the back row (no Director’s plants tonight) reacted fantastically. My line, “And you’re for me, you.”, got the reaction, “Oh god.”, which had them rolling in the aisles. She disappeared pretty quickly after the show…
The JMB was deadly serious tonight. No crying children, no muttered threats, just a stunned silence. Nasty.
In fact the whole show was most effective. And it went down a storm. So well in fact, that we were forced to go to the pub. As I was standing at the bar, getting a round, I heard a voice…
“…and whatever he’s having.”
I looked round to see group of burly men at the bar next to me, with the leader (the burliest) indicating me to the barman. This never having happened to me before, I was rather taken aback. I did the usual chest-pointing and eyebrow-raising to ascertain it was me he was referring to. It was. I said to him, “I’m buying a round for my friends here…”, but he cut in with, “That’s fine, what do they want?”. It was like that bit in The Shining, “Your money’s no good here, Mr. Torrance”. “I like to know who’s buying my drinks, Lloyd”.
It turned out he and his gang were colleagues of the battered Jayne, and they were so impressed with the show that they were buying the whole cast a drink. Most kind. And fatal. Bees round a honeypot, I tell you. Having a round bought for you because you entertained someone briefly – brings a tear to my eye. A Round of Applause! Har har.
No applause ever felt sweeter. Of course, this is the slippery slope. First it’s free drinks, then come the drugs and getting smacked off your box on ecstasy pipes, the next thing you know you wake up in a bathtub full of ice, barely able to bid for your own kidneys on Ebay.
But it’s early days yet. Jethro didn’t order Stella, curiously enough. He’s not method, clearly.
Talking of booze, my creation Alan Dresden now pleads with the landlord for a drink. Maybe he needs a backstory. Perhaps one that involves eating a banana. Right Katy?