The roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd…

Susan tested the elasticity of her skin in the navel area, to rapturous applause from the audience of paying fishmongers. The human lettuce was left fretting in the wings wondering how he was possibly going to follow an act which emoted orgasmic delight in the gathering of professional fish-gutters. His act, consisting of peeling off his crisp, green costume, leaf-by-leaf, until all that was left was a small pastry-cutter, was received in a lukewarm-fashion at the best of times, let alone if he was going to follow Susan, that marvel of human skin-stretching.

As Susan cart wheeled off the stage, smoking five cigars at once, Justin Bakely-Kumquat, the human lettuce, had a brain wave. He would specialise! He would tailor-make his act for the viewing scale-frotterers, just like a convict learns how to carve naked women out of soap! Full of fresh confidence, the honourable Mr. Bakely-Kumquat rolled onto the stage, his leaves glistening in the hot spotlight and positioned himself upright. His eyes fixed on three hundred pairs of eyes, staring blankly and silently at him.

Just then, with ninja-like skill and lightning-quick speed, he whipped off his first leaf and screamed, “Halibut!”. A huge gasp of amazement came from the audience, followed by deafening applause! Justin knew he had a success on his hands and quickly whipped off the second leaf. “Flounder!” he yelled. The fishmongers were on their feet, clapping and whistling, hollering words of encouragement. One-by-one the leaves came off with a performance Justin had never given before, or was ever likely to give again. “Rock Salmon! Whiting! Haddock! Plaice! Whitebait!”, he proclaimed to wild adulation, until it was time for the final leaf.

The human lettuce thought that he could hear a drum-roll for the final leaf, but he quickly realised that it was his own heart beating rapidly. “This is IT!”, he thought. “International fame and stardom could beckon – all I have to do is take off this one leaf, say the magic piscine word and I will be a superstar! Money, fame, fortune, my own personal parking space in the Basildon branch of ‘Tesco’s’… all of this could be mine”. With a magical flourish, he whipped off the final leaf with a triumphant scream of “COD!!!” and braced himself for the ovation he rightfully deserved.

But…nothing. All he got was a shocked silence and then the sound of the whole theatre taking a horrified sharp intake of breath. Then Justin realised… he had forgotten the pastry cutter! He was standing there quite literally stark naked! In a flash of inspiration, he pointed to his shrivelled genitalia and shouted, “WINKLE!”. The room exploded with laughter and delirious applause. The audience bought it! They thought it was all part of the show! Justin grinned and lapped up the moment he had prayed for all his life.

And that, boys and girls, is how Al Pacino became so famous & ended up being the greatest actor in the world.  Or it could have been Danny Dyer.  He’s just as good.  Honest.

About A.D.S.

You are reading the musings of a music-obsessed forty-something who was brought up on The Beatles, lived through Britpop and now spends his time in pursuit of the best music around. This 'blog gives me an outlet to write about the huge number of albums I buy and the many gigs I go to. All of the opinions expressed are my own and if you don't agree with me, then I understand - music is a very personal thing. I like to receive comments, especially if they're nice ones.
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