After cast members stopped frolicking in the parking lot in front of a hopefully blind security camera, after the pizza and Chinese food, after the haphazard line-running, we actually started getting ready for the performance.

GRUMIO: Oh, Jesus roller-skating Christ.

FLEUR: What’s wrong?

GRUMIO: I just ate meat. Oh well.

FLEUR: I’m a better Catholic than you! Nyah!

Mao’s play was up first; preparation was as chaotic as ever, as was the pep talk. I ended up drawing on age lines with purple eyeliner, which yielded surprisingly good results.

IVY: Do I look like a haggard mother?

PHIL: You look like an alcoholic who just got beat up.

LUCENTIO: Yeah, those bags under your eyes are definitely not carry-on.

FRANK (aside): Who is that?

I took the commentary as complimentary. Give an Ivy a ponytail and take away her glasses and, voila, she’s unrecognizable. After Mao’s play, a couple members of Joff and Dakis’ cast actually came up to me and blurted out, "That was you up there?" Evidently, they didn’t read the playbill. One fellow followed up his brilliant inquiry with the comment, "I didn’t think you talked." Again, not exactly a compliment, but no matter. We were good.

Warren and Amanda’s play next, which I missed in order to change costumes. Supposedly, it was excellent, which wasn’t at all hard to believe. Crow was an excellent Hand of Fate and their one altered line served its purpose admirably:

WARREN: So what if I once had total-body liposuction? So what if I sold my soul to Giorgio?

Ms. Giorgio being the IB coordinator, naturally. Its funny, really.

Then, intermission, filled by the hosts, the three Steves and a few guitars.

Reyu’s play after that, which was even more surprising. I’d had no idea of Reyu’s mass appeal or crowd-pleasing tactics, nor that the audience, in spite of being primarily made up of teenagers, would be so responsive. The only rough spot occurred when Lucentio was supposed to break a coffee mug. He tossed it on the floor, accompanied by a perfectly delivered line, and the handle broke off. Unfortunately, the mug itself kept rolling. And rolling. And rolling. Towards the orchestra pit. Eventually, it occurred to the cast that it wasn’t going to stop rolling until after it reached the pit. Phil had been surreptitiously inching towards the moving mug; finally, he gave up and dove at it just as it reached the edge of the pit. But, alas, it was too late, and the mug fell, and a very loud crash resounded, and the audience laughed for a few more minutes, and someone, somewhere, is out a nice cappuccino mug. Yet another of the sacrifices the stage demands.

Joff and Dakis’ play was simply odd. In order to understand the entire thing, one needs to have taken IB English and TOK and also have at least some knowledge as to Joff and Dakis’ normal personalities. In other words, that a ferret-faced Greek god and a freakishly tall peroxide-dipped palm tree are among the most gorgeous creatures on the earth and therefore deserve staggering amounts of applause and catcalls for every bad joke they make. Their play would never have yielded such results if they’d performed it elsewhere. It was interesting, though. Guest stars included Pip, Shakespeare, Hester Prynne, Julius Caesar, a Jedi, Grendel (played by the controversial Stalin), and Mr. Pickles, a slight variation of Mr. Nichols, the TOK prof. The poor boy playing Shakespeare was wearing Joff’s old Petruchio shirt and vest. However, the boy also happens to be a great deal shorter and livelier than Joff and, rather than looking like the typical gay rabbi-pirate, the awful thing gave him the general appearance of a demonic hobbit playing dress-up in a sixteenth-century costume shop.

The Curmudgeon showed up, irate and a tad late; he only caught the last few minutes of the last play. Afterward, he deposited me at Denny’s for a bit in order to drive and vent. I spent my time yapping with the dramamates and wondering about secondhand smoke.

I left the McGonagall specs at the school and didn’t bring my camera. Both of these factors will be remedied tonight. Hee.

Adieu.