On the stageToo shy to ever appear on stage myself, I still hung around theatres like a bad smell when I was younger - lighting and set design were what I was good at.
Backstage we'd attempt to sabotage every production - us lighting geeks would wind up the sound man by putting the remote "pause" button for his reel-to-reel tape machine on his chair, so when he sat down it'd start running, ruining his cues. Actors would do scenes out of order to make our lives hell. It was great and I don't know why I don't still do it.
Tell us your stories of life on the stage.
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chthonic, Fri 2 Dec 2005, 11:02)
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WARNING: NONSENSICAL POST BELOW!I was jigging around on the stage as part of my one-man show, yanking my left leg for the symbols, kicking my right leg for the bass drum, waving maracas in my left hand and brandishing a small trumpet in my right with a harmonica mounted in front of my face and a kazoo dangling from the front of my hat. The crowd was loving it. A dwarf (or it could have been an ugly child) got overexcited by my one-man version of Golden Earring's Radar Love and raced onto the stage. He wrapped himself around my leg so tightly that it caused my bass drum stick to go astray and, as I kicked, the solid head of the stick struck the tiny creature on the back of the head, causing him to recoil and stagger in front of me. In the heat of the jig I tripped over the stunned shortarse and toppled headlong off the front of the stage. The whirling action of my body as it fell caused one of the cymbals to spin off and fizz through the air, beheading a rabbi near the back of the school hall. His headless body then fell back and the top of his exposed spinal column broke the glass of a nearby fire alarm. The siren howled, attracting dogs that suddenly appeared from all around. They came through the doors, through the windows, and from where I lay on the hard wooden floor, I even saw a couple of border terriers bust through the ceiling, yapping with excitement like a pair of dirty fucking spackers on a trip to Asda.
Chaos ensued. People were running around trying to make a swift and desperate exit, but they couldn't see the doors for the army of cattle that had just entered, presumably attracted by the low-frequency drone emitted as the rabbi's soul left his body and drilled through the floor towards Hell. Some of the dogs fell through the hole, too, and I could hear them yelping as they were sodomized by fiery fuckdemons. The evil pheromones of these flame-engulfed lava-jizzers spewed up out of the hole like an unholy, purple, salty smoke, tempting the confused, frantic crowd in the hall to grab the nearest man, woman, child, dog or cow and start pumping at the first available orifice with the kind of rampant savagery that God usually reserves for the Greeks.
I didn't get to do my encore, and I was a bit pissed off about that.
(, Wed 7 Dec 2005, 17:28, Reply)
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