“You sound awful!” says Jule.
“I’ve got flu!” I reply, coughing and spluttering.
“Just as well I rang, then,” Jule says.
“Are you going to make me some soup?” I ask, hopefully.
“No, something a lot better than that,” replies our artistic director. “I’m commissioning you to write our next pantomime…. help take your mind off things.”
“Oh thanks!” say I. “So, what are we on this year? Apart from the usual fairy dust, that is?”
“Tell you what, I’ll give you a clue,” says Jule and then starts ‘Ahoy-ing’ and ‘aha-ing’ and ‘me-hearty-ing’ for all she’s worth, while I become more feverish by the second. “Go on, guess. Try to guess!”
“Parrots?”
“Close….”
“Pirates?”
“Closer….shall I let you off the HOOK?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake Jule, please just put me out of my misery!”
There is a pause for dramatic effect before Jule announces proudly. “ Our new pantomime for 2013 is…..(drum rolls) Peter Pantastic! Isn’t that fantastic? So, what do you think? Based on Peter Pan, the original boy wonder! And one thing’s for sure. There’ll be no other production like it anywhere in the UK,” says Jule.
I was afraid of that. “Yes well, just remember, Madam, before you get your creative head on, there are certain conventions we need to adhere to,” I venture, trying to blow my nose with one hand while balancing the phone in the other. Now I know how Captain Hook feels.
“Oh yes, yes, yes…..keep a rule to break a rule – I told YOU that!” says Jule.
“Like flying?” I suggest. “Peter Pan’s meant to fly, isn’t he?”
Jule sighs. “If you can come up with ways to dangle Master Peter from the ceiling of a primary school or local community centre which happens to comply with health & safety regulations and doesn’t end up with him getting garrotted, I’m willing to listen. Until then, we’ll have to rely on stilts.”
“Stilts? Oh fine. What are they for then?”
“The dwarves.”
“Dwarves? What Dwarves? What are they doing in Peter Pan - and just WHY are they on stilts?”
“To make them bigger, of course.”
“But then they wouldn’t be dwarves!” I reasoned. “They’d be giants – surely?”
“Now you’re getting it!” says Jule triumphantly. “I knew you would - eventually. Now get writing, Missus – after all, there’s only nine more months before Christmas!”
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