Wit on Wednesday: What Sane People Say

Davina Mispell is the... who?!? (part 1)
While out walking his dog early one morning, a superstar encounters a stranger

Follower:            Hey, oh my God! You’re her, aren’t you?
Davina Mispell:                Yes, probably. Yes, you’re right I have been on telly. So come on then, who do you think I am then, but I warn you now I won’t be too happy if I’ve mistaken for Arnie Withercom or Marcel Patcher as the latter, in case you hadn’t heard has just had a funeral.... HERS!
Follower:            No, I mean you’re her!
Davina Mispell:                Yes, well that’s not really helping to clarify matters, is it? As an example of successful communication it doesn’t actually fit the bill, does it? That’s like saying, that blade of grass there is a thing while looking at and pointing to a cloud. So if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy...
Follower:            No I mean... sorry but it’s just... Oh forgive me my lord, I mean... oh! I guess your holiness the correct address is my lady. (Falling to his knees and bowing his head)

Davina Mispell:                Ah. I think I see your problem. You’re basically a mentally deranged person that I should of course take pity on and call for an ambulance but unfortunately for you I don’t have time, a phone and we’re in the middle of nowhere so you’re just going to have to pull yourself together just for a while and head in that direction where there is a village and where I’m sure someone will help you communicate via the very real means of a telephone to get the appropriate level of mental health care you need. I’m just not trained and not cut out for this though. So be a good man and head that way while I continue on my way in the opposite direction and we’ll say no more about it.
Follower:            But, I don’t understand? I will of course do as you ask but what’s the message I need to pass on?

Davina Mispell:                                Er... ok. Errrm. Let’s see then shall we? How about Davina sent you and that you, (that’s you) received a message to tell everyone that I need help from a mental health team.
Follower:            Davina! Davina says, my lady. Is that right?
Davina Mispell:                Yes, that’s right, now off you go.
Follower:            You mean it’s all true then. This is wonderful. Who would have believed...
Davina Mispell:                Yes quite. Who would have believed? But it’s alright now so... off you go. No time to loose etc.
Follower:            No, no, quite, yes, but... but... can you just tell me one thing as I go.
Davina Mispell:                                (sigh) I’ll try but I warn you I am running out of patience now. What is it and this is your last chance ok, because I have work to do.
Follower:            Righto. I just wanted to ask if you are in touch with Davina right now is all?
Davina Mispell:                Of course I am. I am Davina.
Follower:            I don’t understand.
Davina Mispell:                                Why doesn’t that surprise me?
Follower:            I mean, have you changed your name since you came back?
Davina Mispell:                Since I’ve come back? Look let’s not even go there. Changed my name from what exactly because I have to admit I am actually mildly curious now as to who you think I am.
Follower:            Why, the chosen one, of course.
Davina Mispell:                Oh brilliant! I mean, just brilliant. Perfect in fact. ‘Cos now I can actually say I’ve heard it all. And if this isn’t proof of how screwed up this country is then I don’t know what is! I mean really. I mean, what do you think this is ‘Life of Brian’?
Follower:            I’m sorry, my lord?
Davina Mispell:                Monty Python film, a fiction but nonetheless a classic in comedy. Oh I get it... oh very good. Ok where’s the camera then. This is just a set up from that bastard (sound fx including 1920s car claxon, whistles and a doorbell etc) Oh ha ha, you really had me going too, you total wanker. Come on, the games up you can come out now.
Follower:            Sorry, my lady?
Davina Mispell:                The camera crew, the sound technician and that arsehole director who I never liked anyway. Trust me you haven’t heard the end of this and when I get back to my agent...
(Davina starts looking in the bushes and undergrowth for a film crew)
Follower:            Are you feeling alright my lady? There is no one here but us my lord. At least not unless you can see an angel or two, but I can’t.
Davina Mispell:                                Right. That’s enough. You’ve had your fun, now stop! Just Stop. And stop urm... this verbal fornication and calling me ‘my lady’ all the time as this is serious now and I mean deadly serious. I am not the messiah as you well know, I was never call Jesus, I am never going to be called Jesus – I’m not even the right gender to be Jesus and I am never likely to ever to be anything like a messiah because... because I swear too much for one thing. And... hang on... what am I doing!! I am actually trying to justify myself and prove I am not the ficking messiah! My name is Davina actually. Always has been since my parents decided to start my endless and torturous career by giving back problems by dropping me in the font at my christening.
Follower:            As you said yourself, “To err is human, to forgive devine, Davina.”
Davina Mispell:  Well there you go, because actually I never have said that and whatever idiot did say it deserves shooting if this is the result. You see facts. You lack facts.
Follower:            But one doesn’t need facts when one believes.
Davina Mispell:  Right that’s it. The camera’s on you isn’t it? Fucking wanker. It’s you, isn’t it? Go fetch Tosvik! The camera... oh for fuck’s sake, come on Tosvik, you’ve done it before, don’t let me down now... Come here...
Follower:            My lady?
Davina Mispell:                It’s one of those pin hole cameras and I bet Stephanony Lauretta Pry gave it to you. Just you wait til I see my solicitor! Tosvik! Well fine, so much for man’s best friend then... I knew I should have preserved with trying to train the cat. Ok then, I’m not normally a violent woman, but if that’s what it takes to prove I’m right these days... ‘cos I’ve just about had enough now...
Follower:            (Trying to run away) No! Please God... she’s gone mad. Your daughter’s has gone mad! Help her.... Fucking hell...! Help ME!
Davina Mispell:                Yep you’re right I’m mad and you’re perfectly sane. Now where is that camera or do I have to use physical violence to beat the fucking truth out of you...?

Westminster Whimsy Wednesday

'Whipping It Up'

From 2009 this amateur theatrical production of 

'Whipping It Up' perfectly explained the inner workings of the behind the scenes at Westminster.

Many put it on a parr with 'Anyone for Dennis?' and 'Yes, Minister'. 

Worthwhile putting on a show like it as it proved immensely popular with voters and politicians alike. 



All involved were a mix of curious and dubious characters both on and off stage and in and out of public life. What more true to life experience does one need from the safety of your local theatrical establishment? 

Central to the plot, the Chief Whip who, on this occasion, was played by a semi retired professional from the BBC, which coincidentally also echoes real life for experience can make the difference between a convincing performance of merit and one that demands refunds from all the witnesses. 

    The stern opponent to dirtier than they could think up deals.

A secretary noticing things that are not quite right. 

The folly of frolics begins. 

The bright new talent that is sharp but yet to become a fully formed big fish. 

The sage old soaker reminiscing on how much more fun it was in his youth.

The appalled and baffled newbie.

Time to celebrate at last - briefly. 

Apologies for the poor quality of the images.
Sadly the lighting designer had difficulty lighting the show, taking orders from everyone to do everything from making more tea to fixing a prop, snapping... pictures and trying to keep a straight face while wrestling with her clockwork camera while almost trying not to get in the way.

They all said she should and could though, ha!

Picture This: Pantopanic (back by popular request)

WARNING: this should never be read by any member of the public, technical crews, actors, singers, dancers, animals, commissioning managers, clients and especially not theatrical directors - this just leaves children and the mentally insane by our reckoning. 

The twelve hours 'til Christmas (panto)

On the twelfth hour 'til Christmas my client wished of me, 
A parcan up a bean tree.

On the eleventh hour 'til Christmas my client wished of me,
Two trelcos working and a parcan up a bean tree.

On the tenth hour 'til Christmas my client wished of me
Three misty hazers, two treclos working and a parcan up a bean tree.

On the ninth hour 'til Christmas my client wished of me
Four chorus birds, three misty hazers, two treclos working and a parcan up a bean tree.

On the eighth hour 'til Chrismas my client asked of me
MORE mirrored balls!
Four more chorus birds, three hazers, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the seventh hour 'til Christmas my client asked of me
Six swipes not swaying, 
MORE mirrored balls!
Four new chorus birds, three actors, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the sixth hour 'til Christmas my client asked of me
Seven tills a ringing, six swipes not swaying, 
MORE mirrored balls!
Four new chorus birds, funny actors, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the fifth hour 'til Christmas my client asked of me
Eight adverts billing, seven tills a ringing, six swipes not swaying, 
MORE mirrored balls!
Four new chorus birds, evil actors, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the fourth hour 'til Christmas my client asked of me
Nine donkeys prancing, eight TV billings, seven tills a ringing, six swipes not swaying, MORE mirrored balls!
Four new chorus birds, three actors, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the third hour 'til Christmas my client sent to me
Ten techies weeping, nine donkeys prancing, eight TV billings, 

Seven tills not ringing, six swipes all swaying, MORE mirrored balls!
Four new chorus birds, three actors, two more tallescopes 
And a parcan up a bean tree.

On the second hour 'til Christmas my client sent to me
Eleven writers writing, ten techies weeping, nine donkeys prancing, eight TV critics, 

No tills a ringing, six swipes all swaying, MORE mirrored balls!
Four more chorus birds, three hazers, two more tallescopes and a parcan up a bean tree.

On the last hour 'til Christmas my client sent to me
Twelve wheelchairs coming, eleven writers writing, ten techies weeping, 

Nine donkeys prancing, eight new TV critics, no tills a ringing, six swipes all swaying, 

MORE mirrored balls!
Four more chorus birds, three hazers, two more tallescopes and a parcan up a bean tree.

NOTE: Few theatrical productions have enough of a budget to get things done as they would wish to which automatically leads to inventive, creative and fun solutions emerging from sheer determination from all involved.

Try and catch a live show this festive season. Quite a few don't even mention Christmas or... go mad and get involved in one!

Lastly most festive productions raise much needed money for all manner of good causes... told you they're crazy! Enjoy and have a wonderful, safe, healthy, happy festive season and future!

Mel x