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Blue Bayou - It aint half hot mum

The sun - the damned sun - continues to beat down on the shrivelled bodies of the ill thriven crew. A motley collection of young and old, rich and poor, gay and straight, industrious and work shy, they are struggling to bond as a team of men with one common goal; the next drink. (Note to Readers, this is for lemon related scurvy prevention and not to calm the DT’s) So in a desperate attempt to curry favour with the domineering skipper, and get the drinks safe opened earlier than 5pm, it has been decided to put on a wee show for him.
The character of “Lofty” was a natural choice for the somewhat subservient and vertically challenged ship’s rat, and he is looking forward to performing a rendition of “Whispering Grass” in homage to the gently swaying shag pile of the luxurious carpet in skip’s executive cabin.
Meanwhile in steerage, competition for the part of Gloria has been intense, with the Daft Lad, the Plane Driver and the the karaoke queen all applying their slap in increasingly lurid and high camp fashion in a desperate bid to win the part. My money is on the Plane Driver with his soft hands and boyish good looks.
The Laird is maintaining a cool and calculated distance from all this desperate positioning for a part, and I suspect is about to come in for the kill on the casting couch, a la Harvey Weinstein. He looks a bit like him btw.
So it’s all to play for, with casting incomplete and the show yet to happen.
We will report more in due course, god willing. And then the law suits will undoubtedly follow.

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