Showing posts with label Mr. Barrabas Scrivener. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr. Barrabas Scrivener. Show all posts

Sunday, July 19, 2009

The Taming of John the Baptist, A Critical Review

Last evening, dear Mr. Thoroughgood and I had the unfortunate experience of viewing The Taming of John the Baptist, the most abhorrent piece of theatrical dreck that has ever existed.

Worse than last year's Ring my Bell! The Many Loves of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and more offensive than the Battle Creek Family Players' recent dramatization of Stryper's 1986 album To Hell with the Devil, last evening's entertainments have left me with the desire to fumigate my eyes. (Yes, it was even worse than Comstock! The Musical.)

Unfortunately, the director did not understand the subtle differences between Baptists and Boaters.

Charmed by the description of this "playful romantic romp with just a hint of religion," Mr. Thoroughgood and I trotted gullibly off to the playhouse. Idiots! We were idiots!

Local Medium and Battle Creek's single largest producer of ectoplasmic jellies, Mr. Barrabas Scrivener's portrayal of the title character might have been somewhat tolerable had he not spent the entire first act swimming in a shark tank. All of his lines had to be overdubbed by Charlie the Prop Boy from backstage.

Miss Vidalia Orpheum was quite stunning as Pansy Tankett, the fast-talking cabaret dancer, but her otherwise flawless performance was woefully impaired by the fact that she was stinking drunk. Mr. Thoroughgood counted seventeen times she fell of the stage. But what really tipped us off was her impromptu striptease in the middle of Sir Lancelot's pivotal "To kill myself or not to kill myself" speech, culminating in a wardrobe so tangled it took five stagehands to put her to rights.

The divine Miss Vidalia Orpheum mistaking Mr. Blinkums the Horse for her love interest.

The coup de grace, however, was director's fatal decision to move the setting of the play from Biblical Jerusalem to Colonial Jamestown. I don't know about you, but I was certainly not aware that there were so many cabarets and auto mechanics in Colonial America, not to mention several Knights of the Round Table! But who am I to deny others their breathtaking stupidity?

The Taming of John the Baptist will be playing Thursday through Sunday at 9pm and 11:30pm until the end of the month. I urge you all to avoid this monstrosity as though it were the most virulent consumption. In fact, I would rather you caught consumption that be subjected to this offal.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

How Seances May Spread Consumption

Last night, Mrs. Vix and I attended a very strange affair known as a seance at the home of my dear friend, Mrs. Violetta Pinkhurst. The Medium, a Mr. Barrabas Scrivener, demonstrated a considerable talent for turning lights on and off and cracking his toes beneath the table.

We trembled and gasped politely, so as not to make the man feel unappreciated. Then Mr. Scrivener slowly turned his head to prodigiously vomit a wad of ectoplasm down the front of his shirt.

"Oh dear," I said. "How disgusting."

Types of Ectoplasm

It is a true fact that ectoplasm is 500 times more virulent than even the spit of a five-year old child!

Not only does it carry all of the ordinary germs present in human saliva (influenza, consumption, poor attitude), but it also contains all of the germs present in the Realm Beyond Death, including, but not limited to:
  • Wailing Cough
  • Religious Fever
  • Heavy Clanking Chains That Must Be Dragged Across the Attic Floor
  • Excessive Whining
  • Infectious Transparency
  • Borderline Personality Disorder
Remember, while spirits may cross the Divide as they choose, they rarely show the courtesy to bring along antibiotics.