I have no idea what that is.

Last night was a very social event (considering my very unsocial nature, that is). I ran to the train straight after work (ok, "ran" may be an exaggeration) and got to the Comedy Store Queue (TM) at five past six or so. Luckily my flatmate was already there, because the queue was getting longer by the minute. Just about. The poor people having their dinner at TGI Friday's were probably glad to get rid of us by the time we were let in at 6.30, as we had been blocking their view quite efficiently. For some reason the queue had changed directions since we were there on Sunday, but hey, that's how wacky and random we Comedy Store patrons are! Hahaha...ok, calm down.

Since we already had tickets booked, we pretty much got in there rather quickly, and even got the very seats we wanted (as we're not among the Loudly Squeeing Fangirls, we didn't feel the urge to sit up front; in fact, I'd be much too embarrassed for that). We then had to waste 90 minutes. Which meant we would have to...*gasps*...talk to each other! The first post on the programme was to decide how to refurbish the Comedy Store itself, because it's not going to look like that for much longer after I've bought it! So there. I'm very happy with the first draft, and with some improvements here and there, I'm sure we can turn the place in a successful one. I mean, it's only been in business for 29 years, and I'm 30, so clearly I have more experience!

Well, as my flatmate is a filthy smoker (if she hadn't been a smoker, she'd just be filthy), she went upstairs a few times to have a fag, and I must have had a stroke or something, because I turned to the girl next to me and started talking to her! Of course, it must be mentioned that I knew she was American, and as we all know, Americans are very open and chatty people when they're abroad, so I thought "at least she wouldn't just look at me with disdain and start tut-tuting". So we had a long chat while our "other halves for the evening" were away doing their thing (I don't want to know what went on there, frankly). I also spoke with the girl on my other side during the interval, but this time she started talking to me first (she was English, btw). I guess we were just too wacky and random to care! OK...once again, calm down.

Oh yeah, the show? Great. But I am highly biased and would probably say it was great even if I didn't mean it. Neil Mullarkey wasn't as annoying this time around! Maybe we were just having a bad day, the both of us, on Sunday. And it was lovely to see Steve Steen in the flesh; he absolutely ruled, by the way, so well worth a visit the next time he's there (which, incidentally, I see will be the next time I'll be there; quelle coincidence!) They played out this gothic horror musical, among other things, about The Beetroot of Death, where the awfully posh, Welsh 87-year-old Doctor Van Housing, played by Josie Lawrence, went to Transylvania with her assistant Chip (Andy Smart) in order to warn the evil, vampirical Count Cuncunti (the name changed several times during the course of the musical, but I choose this version), played by Greg Proops, about The Beetroot of Death, which actually was The Beetroot of All Evil, it turned out. As this musical will never come to a cinema near you, I'm not spoiling anything by mentioning that it also turned out that Doctor Van Housing's assistant Chip happened to be the long-lost previously-conjoined twin of Count Cuncunti's assistant, Splurge (Steve Steen), whose mother had died in a horrible, horrible beetroot accident when they were young.

The evening ended with a brilliant game of Three-headed Expert (which is the name I have given the game; I don't care about the actual name), where Greg interviewed someone (the name escapes me), played by Andy, Josie and Neil (they were not allowed to utter more than one word at a time, and had to speak in sequence), who was there to talk about quantum physics and sex. It was so funny Greg eventually ended up just repeating whatever they said, with the pitch in his voice going higher and higher, desperately trying not to laugh. Or so it seemed. We learnt some very interesting things along the way. Did you, for instance, know that Einstein had a theory of naughtiness? Apparently, it's the exact same formula as the theory of relativity, and yet it works differently. The correlation between quantum physics and sex, however, can be boiled down to "Lubrication equals momentum". So there you go.

Ooh! And my flatmate's suggestion of Ibsen as a style of theatre was picked up (eventually) - and they played it exactly like I had predicted; moody, dark and with Swedish-sounding accents (with lots of "Ø"-sounds ("Ø" just about equals an English RP "err") - or perhaps that should be "Ö", since it was in Swedish :p ). Great fun was had by all.

All in all a perfect night out. I would recommend it to anyone with a sense of humour and fifteen quid in their wallet (seventeen fifty if you go through Ticketmaster).

Labels: comedy, greg proops