Notes from The Deep End: How I infiltrated the cast...

Well, well. I'm in a PLAY! For the first time in about three years. Wellity, wellity, wellity... but how and why?? What fate befalls this house that two of its inmates should be in plays right after one another, both of them SWEARING they'll "give theatre a break and concentrate on the back yard"??? Well, it's a looooooooooooooong story, kiddies. Snuggle in... My PLSS (Poor Long Suffering Spouse), currently playing about 40 gazillion roles in a production of Two for KADS' season coming up (free plug), let it slip to this site's Ming-The-Merciless type webmaster that "El might be able to fill a gap in your cast" that the aforementioned Ming of Mings had howled about in his blog. Also, it would appear that the PLSS made ironic mention of the fact that she had "no idea" if I'd be interested or not. This was a bald-faced lie (for which she was punished, as described elsewhere on this site) as Mah Wahf knew full well that the itchy feet I'd remarked of earlier that day were NOT the result of tinea, but a growing hankering to hit the boards once more. I returned from rehearsing one of 40 gazillion bands I'm playing in at present, to be accosted with the garbled witterings of the aforementioned Ming infecting my answering machine. The demented ramblings are excitable in tone, and totally incomprehensible in content. "What play??", I ask myself- bemused. "What e-mail from Jen??", I nervously query (whilst simultaneously splitting a bitchen infinitive!). "Why is Malks giggling like a schoolboy with fireworks?", I opine- to no avail. Then the hideous truth dawns; this is the works of my Evil Betrothed!! SHE is to blame!! Like the Sirens of Greek mythology, she leads the unfortunate astray with her honeyed words and her bizarre, presumptive promises!! Of course this is NOT the tale my PLSS tells me; OH no.... "well, Grant put a post on the crack-pipe etc etc.... so I only sent him an e-mail... sorry if I've dumped you in it, etc etc blink blink cute cute..." and thus I am defeated by her wiles. The irony here is of course the fact I am now in a play which will mean less time at home for me, so less chance of me having to do work in the garden- which, as half the nation witnessed in 2001, I am crap at. Is victory mine? Not yet; the PLSS is cunning of method and cruel of vengeance. We shall see... So, with one read-through down, it is time to hit the books and learn these lines. THIS will be a test- can I still do it? Learning lines is one thing- repeating them at the right time, entirely another. Retaining them for the season, another again. Refraining from regurgitating them to people who won't get the joke, there's yer set of four... As Grant will no doubt keep us abreast with his account of what transpires, it falls to me to tell YOU, The Reader, the Low-End TRUTH of it all. Next instalment will deal with the horror of Blocking, or "Why Does Our Director Lack Spatial Awareness?" Til next time, eat yer greens and sleep tight. El