Showing posts with label show. Show all posts
Showing posts with label show. Show all posts

Thursday, May 31, 2018

Story 240: The Magicrobat


“Come one, come all; step right up; don’t be shy; and any other version on the phrase ‘Get your butts over here’ you can think of, to witness the spectacular spectacle that is The Amazing Acrobatic Magician!”
            If she didn’t promote her own act, who would?
            “Welcome, friends.  You there, little boy in the front, thank you for volunteering!”
            “Uhhhh…?”
            “Here, have the quarter that’s been hiding behind your ear.  I’m kidding; no one wants to see that garbage when they can see this!”  She levitated the child several feet above the stage, circled him once over the crowd, and set him back down in his seat.  “Notice that my lips never moved!”
            She grabbed four hatchets from the floor and began juggling them extremely fast.  “Now, keep your eyes on each of these as I make them disappear one-by-one.”  Each one vanished in mid-toss.  “You, ma’am in the back row, what’s that in your oversized swag bag?”  The audience member pulled out four hatchets and dropped them in shock.  “Voila!  Nothing up my sleeves!”
            She grabbed a deck of cards out of thin air and flung all of them into the audience.  “OK everybody, pick a card!”  All 52 plus one Joker were picked up.  “Memorize it!  You got it?”  She pulled down a trapeze that was hanging nearby, flipped around on it a bit 50 feet in the air, and shouted down: “I’m going to finish with a triple-somersault and land on one foot atop that glass there – ” she pointed with her toe to the glass that had appeared center stage – “and when I have alit upon it, all of your cards will have returned to me.”  She did and they did.  She pulled one out of the deck and held it face out: “Is this your card?”
            “Yes!” One voice called out.
            “I thought so.”  She set some batons on fire.  “For my final trick – ”
            “Awwww,” the crowd groaned in disappointment.
            “Sweet.  For my final trick, I will be throwing these flaming projectiles into the air above us, creating a chemical reaction in the atmosphere that will transform these implements of destruction into a shower of roses that will cascade upon us.  Before I do so, does anyone here have seasonal allergies?”  Several hands raised.  “After this, you will be cured.”  She juggled the batons for another minute, throwing them higher each time and spinning around every so often just to show off, then vaulted them in the air and lay down on the stage for a quick nap as the flowers fell gently on everyone.  She was jolted awake by the thundering applause and $20 bills flung in her direction.
            “Thank you, good people, I do this all for you and your adoration!”
            She had three more shows that day, then off to the next state’s Renaissance Fair – truly, she was living the dream in entertaining the nerds.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

Story 200: Neverending Encores

            On closing night, the cast members of the regional theater company were beyond thrilled when they heard “Encore!  Encore!” after taking their bows.  They had worked so hard on this show for weeks, and it always was bittersweet saying good-bye when it was all over.
            “All right!”  The dance captain corralled the cast as the director and stage manager signaled the lighting booth to reset, the orchestra to take it from the top of the finale, and the dry ice gal to fire up the machine again.
            Running on the euphoria, the cast members sang their hearts out and danced their feet off in an almost-exact duplicate of the number they had just performed.  Flushed with the exertion, they took their bows again in triumph as the cymbals deafeningly crashed in conclusion.
            “Encore!  Encore!”
           Starting to feel short of breath, the dance captain looked to the director, who signaled everyone to take their places and go through it again.
            The dance captain hissed to the director off-stage: “Most of us can do it, but the ones I stuck on the ends are about to pass out and we’re all choking on the dry ice!”
            “I’m sorry, but we need to keep the audience happy – they’re the ones who’ll keep buying the tickets!”  And that was that.
            Another run-through, and even the veteran dancers were winded as they bowed to the floor.
            “Encore!  Encore!”
            “You want another one?!”  The director maniacally asked the audience.
            The dance captain’s “Nooooooo!!!!!!” was drowned out by a voice in the audience shouting “YESSSS!!!!”
            Half the orchestra left in protest so there was minimal musical accompaniment that failed to conceal the wheezing, stumbling, and mumbled cursing as the cast members tripped their out-of-breath way through the finale for the fourth time.
            “Encore!  Encore!”
          “WHO SAID THAT?!”  The dance captain squinted into the darkness: the lone lighting operator at that point turned on the houselights to show that there was only one person sitting in the audience – everyone else had left or been waiting for the cast to come out to the lobby for quite some time.
            “Encore!”  The man in the audience cheered again.
            One of the supporting players in the back came forward: “Dad!  What are you doing?!”
            “I’m just so proud of you, son – I’ve never been to a play before, isn’t ‘Encore!’ what you’re supposed to say at these things?”
            The rest of the cast collapsed on stage as the director said, “I’m glad you enjoyed the show, sir.  We’re just going to head backstage now, if you want to wait in the lobby for your son.”
            “All right, but if you all leave then who’s going to encore?”