I played the king
and my dad had used the board of my favourite board game to make it into a crown :( What a waste (of a perfectly good game). Can't remember it though. God it was so long ago.
( g0atchild Is back and has been away since, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 23:29, Reply)

We never had a donkey in our plays
Instead, we had a camel, whose name was Doris. She managed to get a part in every play, even those that didn't need a donkey, (or a camel for that matter) and was a talented tap dancer.
(Pretty strangers and promises, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 22:16, 1 reply)

N(eg)ativity
This QOTW sucks. Isn't it over yet?
(Richy_T hundreds if not thousands of dollars, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 22:05, 8 replies)

i was Mr Mole
i lived in a hole...!!!! but i was the star of the show!!!

that's about it!!
( Rev. Jesse. broke his ankle, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 21:38, Reply)

Well I never.
Just found out my brother was a DINOSAUR in the nativity at our Roman Catholic school..

I dont think baby Jesus would have been best pleased about that.
(i should have joined myspace, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 19:46, 3 replies)

Snow White
Not a nativity but fuck it! As a young lad of about 6 I was in a play of this. I played the evil king. That was fun. The lad who was playing Prince Charming came out and had to fight a dragon or something or other. He danced around this dragon singing

"Secret weapon secret weapon I can see your secret weapon"

At which point his cock fell out of his costume. Leading to someone in the audience shouting

"And we can see yours!"

Tears and hilarity ensued.

The end.
(Dangerous Disco Trev Isn't my real name, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 19:29, Reply)

Not a Nativity
Don't really remember doing any of those, though I'm sure I must have. Still a school play though, so that kind of counts.

Every year at my old junior school, the departing 4th year (10 and 11 year olds) would put on a leavers play. Ours was about WWII evacuees or somesuch, with singing and dancing aplenty. I auditioned for one of the nine main characters, and actually got handed one of the parts. I was chuffed as chuffed could be!

And then rehearsals started... And after a little while, the teachers began to mutter amongst themselves. Until after one such session when I was called over to the director, and told that I spoke too well(!) to play the part of a London child, and consequently they would be giving my part to someone that dropped their aitches all the time as it would sound "more authentic".

Devastation.

My misery was further compounded by being told that instead, I would be playing the role of the politicians in the play, and could I please do them all with a Mrs Thatcher voice?

My humiliation was complete.



In fact, it only got worse a few years later when my younger brother's year did their play. He not only got given one of the lead roles and kept it, but understudied for one of the other kids too, who was ill the days of the performance.

And yes, I was supposed to be the artistic, dramatic one of the two...
(Kitimariana, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 16:51, 2 replies)

Isn't it a question of personal choice?
Our teacher, Miss Laramie, was ever-so-slightly new wave. The nativity was set in Richmond, Golden Virginia for a start.

And we didn't have a donkey, we had a Camel, which was actually pretty damn Kool. And instead of an inn, the nativity took place in an Embassy on Pall Mall, or was it Mayfair, could even have been Old Holborn? - I forget.

We also had four kings instead of three, there was Lambert and Butler, and Benson and Hedges, they were exquist Royals. Their costumes were made of the finest material, made by hand, they were a really nice Silk Cut. They looked incredibly Regal as they delivered their presents, including a big box of Gold Flake.

Mary was played by a girl named Kim. Joseph was a kid named John who was originally from Newport, it was a Lucky Strike on our part because he played the role to Death. He really was our John Player Special.

After the show the audience demanded More. Anyone would think they'd become addicted, but there really wasn't any strong sceintific proof that nativity plays were habit forming.

Its really down to a question of choice and individual responsibility.
( SpankyHanky, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 16:40, 11 replies)

wonkey donkey
I was the front of the donkey (theres always someone worse off than yourself). My parents had spent ages making a custom made papier mache donkey head which fitted loosely onto my legendary large bonce.

All I remember was getting half way across, stumbling and the head fell off into the front row. I burst into tears and pissed myself.

Happy days
(gentleman mongoose the Lion, the Witch & the Robot, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 16:13, 3 replies)

Texts
Last Xmas I went to my neices nativity play and felt my phone vibrate. I then had a very long and dirty exchange of texts with my boyfriend. I was very turned on by the end of the show. I must have been bright red and breathless and probably left a slightly damp patch on the seat.
(Milly One, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 15:19, 10 replies)

when the three kings left the East
they were disoriented.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 14:46, 2 replies)

My little cousin
Had a brief line in the nativity last year, she was playing the part of 'the fairy'

Her total performance consisted of...

'I'm twinklebell, the fairy queen,
for you I say my spell,
my magic wand will do the trick,
you'll soon be fit and well'

(It was more a poorly-Santa story, rather than the birth of that bloke)

She forgot her words, cried a bit and then wee'd herself.

Sadly, its not caught on video for replaying at her 21st birthday owing to the schools policy of only allowing video cameras if ALL parents sign a consent form.

Shame.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 13:10, Reply)

Curiously enough,
despite having attended two C of E schools, I have never taken part in a nativity play. At my second school this was because we alternated doing a proper panto and a proper play (Cinderella one year, The Duchess of Malfi the next, for example. Very cultural).

But why not at prep school? It was a Christian foundation, stuffed fuller than Bert's rectum with teeny-tiny children, ranging from 4 to 13 years old. Perfect Nativity fodder, you'd think.

But nooooo. Since the school was closely linked to one of the university colleges, and had (still has) a very famous choir, the school took every opportunity available to shoehorn in a shed-load of music, to show off the choristers and music department. And not just any old music. No, for a while we had a series of classical music extravaganzas, culminating in 5 "gala" performances of Britten's "Noye's Fludd" in the college chapel. Performances to which all local dignitaries, celebrities and mentalists were invited, and which was recorded for local television. A large ark was built in the chapel, next to the organ screen, the choristers were all chosen to play the main singing parts (apart from the Head, who played God, and the drunken RE teacher, who was Mrs Noah), and every single other child in the school was enlisted to play the animals.

Letters were sent to parents, asking them to make an animal costume for their little darlings, and informing them that they'd have to give up all semblance of a normal life for the next three months while we rehearsed our little socks off.

At the first performance, as the platoons of animals marched up the central aisle to the strains of the opening chorus, laughter rippled outwards through the audience. I saw my own mother stifling her giggles, as my father took a sneaky swig from his hipflask. You see, the school made one fatal error: they didn't specify which particular animals our parents needed to make their little darlings into. According to our performance, Noah went onto the ark with his family, a dove, a raven, an eagle, seven cows (no bull), and an army of nearly two hundred mice.

The following year, we did "Puss in Boots". I was a fairy, with 30 seconds stage time and no lines. Huh.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 12:40, 1 reply)

Another top notch QotW...
... deserves another mustabindun crap joke.

Q. Why didn't Glasgow have any nativity plays last Christmas?

A. Cos they couldn't find three wise men or one virgin.

Sure it's keech so's this question.

Something rather amusing happened to me and a young lady once involving vodka, a bedroom and an airpistol but it had nothing to do with nativity plays... Was fun tho.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 12:26, 2 replies)

Crappy middle-school Christmas carols
We we forced to sing some modern Christmas carol no-doubt written by some noncing church-goer who though the traditional ones were outdated and boring. One song simply went, "Were you there when they" + repead ad nauseum. At the end, after several verses of this drivel, the school tosser shouted, "NO!" and was thus given a thorough bollocking by the teachers. In retrospect though, he was right. I wasn't there, nor anyone else in the whole school, the parents in attendance nor anyone else in the church where the performance took place.
( mikeyyy, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 11:48, 3 replies)

B3ta Nativity play, Act 3

(Act 1 is here)

(Act 2 is here)

Scene: A suitably chastened bunch of b3tards stand around a cardboard box in which baw_bag lies, nappy-clad and gurgling as the baby Jesus, attempting to look up BGB's robe as she coos over the box. Pooflake, with a damp patch spreading across his crotch, glares at them.

CHCB: That night, Mary gave birth to a baby. And he was Jesus.

(On one side of the stage appear Apeloverage and Undercovercarrot wearing teatowels on their heads and accompanied by 127 sheep. Rakky, chickenlady and rachelswipe appear before them clad in diaphanous sheets and wearing tinsel halos.)

Angels (as a chorus): Be not afraid! We bring you tidings of great joy!

(Apeloverage bites his tongue, hard. The sheep try to out-fluffeh one another.)

Angels: You will find the saviour in a stable in Bethlehem.

(The shepherds manage to convey puns to each other by means of gestures. Mr chthonic marches on stage and confiscates Apeloverage's crook, then clips him round the ear with it.)

Apeloverage: (muttering) That's crooked behaviour.

(The shepherds and their 127 sheep shuffle offstage.)

(The Resident Loon appears on stage, clad only in tinfoil and twinkling for all he's worth. Enzyme, althegeordie and Bert Sexmonkey walk on stage with large cardboard gold crowns, singing "We Three Kings of Orient Are". Unknown to Enzyme, who leads the way nobly, al and Bert are pelvic thrusting in time to the tune and sniggering at the end of every line. Al is momentarily distracted by one of the sheep that he mistakes for a goat, but is pushed back into place by Mr chthonic. They arrive at the 'stable'.)

Enzyme (solemnly): We are the Wise Men. We have travelled far to see this child. I bring gifts of gold.

althegeordie; You stole that from your Turkish boy.

Enzyme: No I didn't, it's a middle class family heirloom.

althegeordie: I bring you gifts of frankincense. (He hands the box to BGB.)

Bert: Why is it white? And sticky?

althegeordie: Do you actually know what frankincense looks like?

Bert: er, no.

althegeordie: Then this is frankincense.

Bert: it looks very similar to my myrrh.

(BGB drops the box.)

CHCB: And so the Wise Men told everyone they knew that a Saviour had been born.

Enzyme: I didn't. I merely said a child had been born, possibly in 4BC actually, and that historically speaking this child may have been the individual that the Christian church came to associate with the biblical figure of Jesus.

CHCB: (ignoring him) but Herod heard of the birth of this child and unleashed his wrath.

Davros' Granddad: (stroking his beard menacingly) Kill all the firstborn! Oooooooo, yes.

(He is pelted with popcorn and Tourettes is forcibly removed from the audience.)

CHCB: But Mary and Joseph escaped into Egypt and they all lived happily ever after (until 33 years later when there was a minor skirmish with some Romans and a run-in with a cross).

(Everyone appears on stage for a lisping rendition of Away in a Manger.)

Mr chthonic: Beautiful! You've made me so proud! Next week, as a reward, you can have a really good QOTW.

The End.

( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 11:40, 34 replies)

what button do you press...
...if you want to hear squirrels covering a blackstreet record?

Nut-diggity Play
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Wed 1 Apr 2009, 11:35, 1 reply)

Perfect spot for a pearoast.
I live near a small village in the West Highlands. Local legend has it that some years ago the primary school had a particularly rough kid who had moved up with his parents from Glasgow.

Everyone in the final year of school got a part in the nativity play so that they didn't feel left out, but the teachers were a bit nervous about how this kid would behave. The starring roles should go to the better behaved children, they felt, but the supporting cast also seemed fraught with dangers. Giving him a shepherd's crook sounded like a good way to start a fight, and when they tried him out as a sheep he wouldn't stop shouting "Baa" and trying to butt the Holy Family in the knees.

In the end he was "promoted" to be the Star of Bethlehem, which basically involved standing on a box holding a large cardboard star which had been covered in tinfoil.

On the day of the play the lad did admirably well, until Mary and Joseph were about to receive the Three Wise Men, by which time he was thoroughly bored with proceedings.

Thus it was that as "We Three Kings of Orient Are" droned to a chaotic and tuneless finish and Balthazar stepped forward with his gold tea caddy, the audience was treated to the Star of Bethlehem announcing loudly "Ach! I'm fed up wi' fuckin' twinklin'" and stomping off the stage.
(richardm, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 11:19, Reply)

It was cold, bitterly cold as we approached bethlehem, I was so tired I could hardly keep awke on the little donkey
...went a very over dramatic nativity many years ago when I was Mary. Not sure how I still remember the words though.

Then there was the nativity tableaux in which 'a sheep looked at us funny' and instead of a moving scene of the birth of Christ, there was a whole lot of teenagers pissing themselves at a toy sheep.

I was in panto for a few years, too. My favourite was Sleeping Beauty. This was my starring moment

captain: Have you had breakfast, lovey?
me (as soldier): errr...
Sergeant: They don't have breakfast, sir!

I was so proud
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 10:43, Reply)

Not me, but my dad
Went to an all-boys Catholic school. So when Christmas time came around and the obligitory Nativity play organised, my dad was cast as Mary.

He says he did this on the proviso that the pervy priest organising it told him that he would get a better part the next year.

The next year he was Mary. Again.
(Papa Chocolat, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 0:57, 2 replies)

Carry On Nativity (B3ta - style)
Scene: North London, antiquated film studio. The director gathers his cast for an initial read-through of the latest, greatest, most amazing movie franchise in the history of the world ever, a phenomenon that has made us laugh, made us cry, made us wank like badgers, and filled us with hot, sweet, sticky joy on those cold, wet afternoons when we couldn't be fucked to do anything constructive: The Carry On Movies.

Pooflake: Oh bloody hell, people! I'm your director! Can you please stand proudly to attention and quiver in my mighty, throbbing presence!

The assembled cast and crew go erect instantly.

Bert: I'd just like to call you a cunting cunt, director.

Al & Kaol: Stop being such an annoying little shit, Bert!

Bert: Fuck you, you cunty fuck cocks!

Pooflake: Awww, can I have some quiet, please! Does everyone have a copy of the script?

Apeloverage (grumbling): There's not enough puns.

Undercovercarrot: I second that. This script is like a heavy lamp, its lightweight on the puns.

No3L: There's fuck all in there about hitch-hiking either.

CHCB: And there's a distinct lack of threesome action too. Hardly a fucking carry on at all if you ask me.

CHCB yawns, lifts her arms abover her head and her incredibly tight bra flies off and smacks Bert in the face. He picks it up and runs off with it.

Spikeypickle: Shit! Is that the time! I've gotta go and pray at the Church of Enzyme - I'll see you bastards in a couple of hours. Has anyone seen my robes with the big 'E' stenciled on the back in biro?

The Resident Loon: Err, Director Pooflake - where do you want me to put up this set? I can't stand here holding all this wood all day, you know?

Nitrous: Yeah, director - if you want me to play half the stable I need to know where it goes so I can get into character, my actings not wooden, you know.

BGB: Get off Pooflakes back! He's got a very hard job. Powervator! Don't even think about opening your mouth! And Cancer Joy, will you stop going on about Monkey Boy!

Pooflake: Thanks, BGB. I can handle this bunch of spasticated colons. Though I really could do with a nice long satisfying dump. Where's the assistant director? She's got the eloquence to sort you fucktards out.

Vampyrecat: Here I am Mr Lake! Why don't you go and drop the kids off at the pool? Right you horrible lot! Can I have your attention!

Bert: You're a cunt too!

Al & Kaol: Bert, stop being such a complete, utter, cunting, fucking, twating shitehawk.

Revenge of the Woodside Industries: I've got something important to add about this here Carry On production of the nativity. I have a story that will keep you glued to your seats - I just need to go and find my biology texts.

PJM: Fuck me! Are we ever going to get to the end of this fucking week, I mean film shoot? I mean, come on, the fucking nativity? Can't go with Carry On String? I blame the fucking Tories, and Gordon-cunting-Brown, and the roadworks on the M25.

Fuckpig: Or weird ideas, that would be better than this fucking useless boring shit.

piston broke(dubiously): This whole production sounds a bit Cheech and Chong to me.

snee: Will you people shut the fuck up! I'm a proper actor, you know. I've lived my role for the past six months. Its not easy being down on all fours all day in a field, eating grass, while a great big ram fucks you from behind. And wearing all that wool in the summer - I've suffered, you cunts!

MichaelS: Come on people, lets get on with this load of old monkey spunk. I'm the donkey you know... Fitting, really - I'm hung like one.

And so on.

Forever.

And ever.

And SpankyHanky was sitting at the back with his cock out dangling it in Porklips' ear.

And, alas, the film was never made. Lets all hope for a better Carry On topic for next weeks' production... Fire would be pretty good, or fashion, or even - dare I say - string.

Blame Pooflake for this.
( SpankyHanky, Wed 1 Apr 2009, 0:00, 21 replies)

I was a sheep.
A sheep that ruined the whole thing with an epically massive sneeze.

Teehee.
( Green Spanner and his magical lack of activity, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 22:33, Reply)

I can still remember the reading I had to do in one Nativity play, aged about 9,
having practiced it so many times.

I give you Luke 2, verses 8-14:

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over
their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Brainwashed, I tell'ee. Brainwashed.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 21:05, 2 replies)

I was very fat. Huge.
But I had a solo part..."I Three Kings Of Orient Am."

ba dum tish.
( HairyTwatter certified eel and sodium salesman, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 20:57, Reply)

I was The STAR!!!
I couldnt beleive my luck! I was the star that guided the 3 blokes who had gold and frankinsence or whatever. Anyway I was well chuffed until the day came for the big performance and I realised that I had absoloutly fuck all to say and just had to stand there while everyone else had lines. Raw Deal.
( P3L3 is not my real name., Tue 31 Mar 2009, 19:55, Reply)

I was the narrator...
..cos I could read good.

Every bloody year. Everyone else would be backstage, having a laugh, waiting for thier scene and I'd be stuck in front of the audience for the ENTIRE bloody show. Nver got to wear a costume, or anything.

Every sodding year. Narrator. Again.
(inflateable, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 19:37, Reply)

Confusion
In about year four or five, I played one of the three kings. I was the ONLY girl in my village school of about 45 pupils who had to play a male part, and no boys had to play girls' parts. I don't know why they couldn't have sacrificed a sheep or something to have a male king, and given me a generic female part (angel, 'inkeeper's wife' etc).. but I suppose I should be grateful as it played a part in making me who I am today - a transgendered man (not really but I do have a lot of lesbian fantasies...)
(CaraVAGgio, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 17:57, 3 replies)

The organ player's wife
When I was around 5 years old, I was given the part of the organ player's wife in the school Christmas play (a not at all suggestive role). I was delighted as the previous year I'd not been given a role, and my arch-rival Stacey had been made an angel much to my envy. So I avidly practiced my one line, determined that it should best exemplify my previously unrecognised acting prowess.

Night of the play. I enter under the bright lights, wearing a velvet red dress my parents had proudly bought in Laura Ashley. In that serious, earnest way that young children have when they're trying to act grown-up, I pronounced my line:
"I'm sure you can write a new song for your organ. WON'T you, dear?" (here doing my best, hen-pecking imitation of my gran after my poor grandfather had committed some minor misendeamor.)

The whole audience bursts into laughter.

Unfortunately I didn't see nor understand the funny side, and promptly burst into tears. I remember feeling humiliated and confused... had I not played my roll well enough? I spent the rest of my (now mute) time on stage with tears and snot running down my face, howled my indignance through the song and sniffed my wounded pride through the curtain call (cue fresh bouts of laughter).


Years later, this story is repeated at every family gathering, and worse still, a video recording somehow managed to find its way onto a famous home video show.
(I'm not here was here on, Tue 31 Mar 2009, 17:21, Reply)