The First AC Choir Concert.

dreamdaisy

It's a dark, dank February night and in a village hall, somehwere in middle England, the AC choir plus friends and rellies (the Fs and Rs) have congregated with a view to giving a concert (well the choir will sing while the Fs and Rs gaze on admiringly).

It's about half-an-hour before kick off (8pm) when Frogmorton rushes into the Village Hall, turns on the lights etc and sets about preparing the urn. She puts it on a wheeled tray, fills it then rolls it into the hall and sets it up at the back on the left. She rounds up a wide variety od cups and saucers (nto in equal numbers and none matching) and gets ready to dispense her lovely liquid refreshment to all-comers. Fifteen minutes later Stickywicket wanders in and seats herself at the old upright piano to the right of the stage. She lifts the lid and begins to noodle her way through 'My Favourite Easy Chopin Pieces Volume 1'. The piano is a gnat's widget within being in tune - an auspicious start.

The choir (and their backing groupd called the Bods - they're made up of the blokes and the mods) assemble in the kitchen to the rear of the stage. Butterflies of various shapes and sizes are beginning to flutter - their rehearsal time has been limited due to geographical difficulties and Skype can only do so much.

At 7.56pm the Fs and Rs finally arrive - they've been next door in the Pig and Wiglet (sorry, Wig and Piglet) for the past few hours and are, therefore, somewhat red in the face and 'refreshed'. Sticky reluctantly closes her Chopin book and turns to some sheet music. A bellowing is heard from behind the rather moth-eaten red velvet curtain that screens the stage from prying eyes: yes, it's Miss Dream Daisy (last encountered in the offices of Messrs Tartitup and Floggit) and she yells (somehwat inelegantly it must be said) 'Right you lot, up and at 'em!'

Various clatters, clonks, squeaks and rumbles from various walking aids are heard as the choir and Bods assemble on the stage, the red velvet curtain is drawn back, the lights dim and the audience falls quiet. Sticky strikes up a spirited (if somewhat error-strewn tune, pop music and arthritic fingers are not comfy bedfellows) and Miss DD (think Miss Piggy but with short hair) prepares to conduct, from the comfort of her Clatterator seat. The choir launches itself, one and all, into the following:

The moment I wake up
And struggle to put on my make up (make up) (that was the Bods)
I say a little curse for you
While combing my hair now
And wondering what drugs to take now (take now)
I say a little curse for you

Forever, and ever, you'll stay in my joints
And I will hate you
Forever, and ever, we never will part
Oh how I detest you
Together, forever, that's how it must be
To live without you
Would only be joyful for me

I run for the bus dear
. . . . . .

At this point the place explodes into laughter. The refreshed Fs and Rs cannot control themselves. The choir stand, sit and lean aghast at the chaos before them. Miss DD bows her head, her shoulders heaving, but with mirth or distress?

(To be continued)

stickywicket

Ah yes (Please use your very best Maurice Chevalier accent), I remember it well.

I found the exquisite appropriateness of the non-matching cups and saucers very touching. ie I was, and am, touched.

I confess, the piano actually was in tune. It was the pianist who wasn’t. These days I find the 'My Favourite Easy Chopin Pieces Volume 1 for Two Fingers’ a little beyond my capabilities. (Chopin is in complete agreement with me.)

I do apologise if my opening accompaniment was a little out of sync. I had mistaken the ‘Various clatters, clonks, squeaks and rumbles from various walking aids’ for the orchestra’s intro. Plus the bottle of Chenin Blanc I had stored in the body of the piano was playing havoc with my top E#.

I thought Miss Dream Daisy looked delightful in her ….er…..negligee. The desert boots with orthotics made an imaginative contrast and who would have thought an elbow crutch could be employed so well as a baton. (I do hope Mig made a full recovery.)

Ah, happy days! My memory is a bit dim (Shut it, Numpty ) as to what happened next other than my entire bottle of CB disappeared. Please remind me.

Numptydumpty

So Sticky, you don't remember what you got up to with the Bods!
Surely you remember waking up in a police cell :shock:
You're lucky to have a friend like DD, willing to come up with the bail money.

barbara12

I have never been so ashamed...there I was with my baton..(walking stick)...who on earth sneaked the brandy in.....think it may have had something to do with SW and Miss DD....dancing on the tables indeed...that poor police office...

mig

I remember waking up with a splitting head or it could have been a spitting head,who ?what ? Where ? when ? total amnesia ,so whatever happened I can't be blamed. M??

Numptydumpty

Barbara, we all appreciate your efforts to police things,(it must have been very stressful trying to control Sticky and Miss Daisy, and well done opposing Migs suggestion that the Bods wore lycra.) but was your Dominatrix attire really necessary?

barbara12

Numptydumpty wrote:

Barbara, we all appreciate your efforts to police things,(it must have been very stressful trying to control Sticky and Miss Daisy, and well done opposing Migs suggestion that the Bods wore lycra.) but was your Dominatrix attire really necessary?

just about squeezed into it ...quite squeaky in places... :oops:

stickywicket

barbara12 wrote:

Numptydumpty wrote:

was your Dominatrix attire really necessary?

just about squeezed into it ...quite squeaky in places... :oops:

Squeaky? The attire? Or you? Which places? :shock:

kentishlady

Well that's cheered me up! What a laugh, guess it helps to have a sense of humour with Arthur, although am afraid mine goes AWOL very often these days. Hope you are all having as good a day as possible. Beryl

barbara12

stickywicket wrote:

barbara12 wrote:

Numptydumpty wrote:

was your Dominatrix attire really necessary?

just about squeezed into it ...quite squeaky in places... :oops:

Squeaky? The attire? Or you? Which places? :shock:

Both...but its so long since I wore this thing...better get some leather rub...

dreamdaisy

Ahem! To continue:

Frogmorton is startled awake by the noise of guffawing, whooping, coughing, chortling and general all-round raucous behaviour. She reaches anxiously out and touches the urn - it's barely warm. Meanwhile on the stage Miss DD rises from her stately throne (with a bit of a stagger because she forgot to apply the brakes) and, leaning slightly forward so as to afford those in the front rows an eyEful of wonderfully abundant creamy cleavage (out of which the top of a mobile and a car key can be seen poking) she bellows 'OI! SHUT IT!

The hall falls suddenly silent. The Fs and Rs clutch their ears in distress at the sheer volume of the stentorian bellow. There's a hissed consultation with the choir about where to restart, from the top or from where they were interrupted (in the interests of not over-doing things they decide on the latter).

Sticky strikes up again and the choir re-launch themselves.

I run for the bus dear [Miss DD turns and glares at the audience - not a sniggger]
And as usual I miss the s*dding bus dear (bus dear)
I say a little curse for you
At work I just take time (take time)
To nap and wait for my break time (break time)
And say a little curse for you

For ever, and ever, you'll stay in my joints
And I will hate you
For ever, and ever, we will never part
Oh how I detest you
Together, forever, that's how it must be
To live without you
Would only be joyful for me

My horror, believe me (believe me)
For me there is no choice
but to be with you, (I send you a curse)
You curse me too, (curses all round)
I'm in hate with you (curses all round)
You hate me too (curses all round)


By this time the audience are swaying, stamping, singing along, clapping then conga-ing round the hall and are led by Mr SW in the direction of the Pig and Wiglet (sorry, Wig and Piglet). The choir haphazardly fade out, drooping over their various aids and accoutrements with exhaustion, Sticky slams down the lid and, flexing her aching fingers, follows the audience hotly pursued by the choir who are being exhorted by their conductress to go to the Fig and Giblets. Frog is left is splendid isolation so she makes her way round the hall turning off lights and closing doors. She stretches over to switch off the urn and her right hip brushes against the tap; this moves to the open position. She turns off the main lights, shuts and locks the door and sets off for the Dog and Twiglet whilst a steady trickle of lukewarm tea falls to the floor (and judging by the state of the parquet it's not the first time this has happened.)

Peace is restored.

DD

stickywicket

It’s all coming back to me now, like a distant nightmare, though I remember things slightly differently :?

For a start, I was never convinced that that the reason for the conductor’s stagger was a lack of brakes – not the brakes of her clatterator anyway.

I do recall seeing her mobile and car keys but I swear there was also a hip flask lurking down there in the depths.

I remember the ‘curses all round’. I learnt some good new ones but I promise, DD, never to let on who taught me them.

I don’t recall everyone being led out by Mr SW to the Pigwig and Figgy Giblets but it sounds very authentic.

As for Numpty’s earlier post – Of course I don't remember what I got up to with the Bods. My top E# was fully functioning again by then. And one police cell looks very much like another as I’m sure you’re aware In any case I know you’re making this up because far from coming up with my bail money, DD is much more likely to have instigated the antics that got me thrown in there in the first place

villier

ENCORE!!!! BRAVO.............. mad as a bunch of frogs xx

stickywicket

You wouldn't have us any other way, Marie

mig

AC choir for European song contest :!: Mig

stickywicket

Following DD’s birthday celebrations with the now ex-rugby players sticks, crutches and clatterators may be retrieved from various sections of the M1 and also from the rugby club, including the bar area and the communal bath (Well done, someone )

The person responsible for decanting the entire optics section into frogmorton’s tea urn is respectfully asked to contact the club to arrange payment. The urn, decorated with some tassels, is now in the club secretary’s office along with a battered piano bearing the legend ‘AC Choir RUFC. Mission statement - Sing While You Scrum, Ruck & Maul’

villier

Tee Hee

---

splish splosh

---

:oops: :shock: xx

mig

But I'm a pensioner ,is there special rates,it wasn't just me ,was it Sticky and Numpty.Mig

stickywicket

Fair's fair, Mig. You didn't ask for special rates with the lycra-clad ones You didn't mention to them that you're a pensioner, did you?

dreamdaisy

Ye gods. Stuff hurts.

Where am I? :shock:

WHO am I? :?

Why do I have seventeen differently coloured rugby socks in my Clatterator basket? And a bus pass? And some very smelly embrocation?

I remember a concert with an erratic pianist and some odd singing, then a bit of dancing followed by the Fig and Giblets (which appeared to be on some sort of roundabout) and a number of very handsome, well-muscled young men who were more than happy to play Lucky Dip in my cleavage (I send my best wishes to the lad who found the tub of sulph and no, they don't taste of orange :oops: ) but as to the rest of the evening's events? I daresay there's some Twitbook footage somewhere but I care not. It was fun. 'Nuff said.

Numptydumpty

Has anyone seen my splints? I saw someone (you know who you are) putting them on one of the rugby players. ( M#g, they're meant for the wrist!)
:idea: DD, please could you check your cleavage for them?

dreamdaisy

No joy darling, sorry. I have found a number of interesting things however, including a rather pretty white ferret; does anyone want a ferret? DD

barbara12

stickywicket wrote:

Fair's fair, Mig. You didn't ask for special rates with the lycra-clad ones You didn't mention to them that you're a pensioner, did you?

And neither would I...

stickywicket

dreamdaisy wrote:

No joy darling, sorry. I have found a number of interesting things however, including a rather pretty white ferret; does anyone want a ferret? DD

Is it wearing a wrist splint?

GraceB

I needed that. I so, so needed that.

You are all utterly bonkers but wonderful.

Thank you all so much.

GraceB

dreamdaisy

There's are some wisps of beige elastic tangled in its whiskers: I think it may have eaten one? Perhaps both?

Grace, it's our pleasure and I'm glad you enjoyed our bit of nonsense. DD