AnonymousIt will probably be a while as I am guessing you don’t have a lot of visitors.
Dame Judi shuddered at the sound of the doorbell. She absolutely detested these actors luncheons, as far as she was concerned it was a whole lot of old has-beens talking about their forgotten careers. And it was her turn to host. She sat staring at the roof, barely able to feign interest in conversation as the likes of Sir Ian McKellen, Dame Joan Plowright and Sir Michael Caine poured through the door. How boring, thought Judi, as she watched Dame Joan try to navigate her walking frame between the couch and the coffee table.
Then the room lit up as Dame Maggie Smith entered Dame Judi’s breakfast and entertaining room. Judi and Maggie had worked on a lot of projects together, ever since Oscar Wilde introduced them at one of his poetry readings in the late 1800’s. But they had rarely had a moment alone. Judi smiled at Maggie, and noticed a slight glint in her good eye. Maggie walked over with a brisk pace that she had recently acquired since having both hips replaced, and whispered ever so softly into Judi’s ear “Is there, perhaps, somewhere we could go?”
Judi said in a loud, bold tone “There’s no need to whisper, Maggs, none of them can hear us, they’re all bonkers”.
Judi and Maggie hurried out of the room, stepping over Jim Broadbent who had collapsed whilst masticating on a curried egg and alfalfa finger sandwich, and hurried to Judi’s bedroom.
Maggie took in the ambiance of the room. The smell of lavender wafted from an old BAFTA award Judi used to hold potpourri in. The wallpaper was printed with an assortment of British wild flowers, like the ones Maggies nanny Helga used to pick for her when she was a child. Maggie and Helga were very close, until she was sent back to the continent after her mother had caught them playing nurses one night, and Judi reminded Maggie of Helga.
Maggie noticed a script on the bedside table. “Granny Dyke Spies? That sounds interesting!” said Maggie.
“Oh yes” said Judi, “It’s a ghastly script but the Americans are paying me top dollar to do it… actually there is a particular scene I am having trouble with…”
Maggie was intrigued. “Oh yes… go on…”
“Well it’s a love scene, you see, and, well, perhaps you could help me read through it?” asked Judi, nervously.
“Judi, just like Whoopi Goldberg once said to me on the set of Sister Act 2, ‘we don’t need no script’”
And with that Judi leapt onto the bed, rolled down Maggies cardigan and pressed her withered, earl grey tea lips up against her own. The two embraced for what seemed to Judi to be an eternity, until she felt a hand slide up her thigh and undo her mother of pearl coloured suspenders. Judi rolled over onto all fours and lifted her knee length skirt, looked back, smiled and said “I do believe it’s time for Mrs. Henderson to present…”
Hey tumblr cuntz this is what I looked like when I was 18. And no, it wasn’t the 1970’s, I just thought it was.
AnonymousFuck I love tumblr.
AnonymousGet a spot on a panel show on Channel 10, that usually does the trick.
AnonymousOh! I have only just discovered this question thing (I am so shit at tumblr.)… I have no idea when you sent this but thanks! I hope you have a great day too!
Red Stitch Actors Theatre remounts The Laramie Project – Ten Years Later at Arts Centre Melbourne in an unmissable season commencing this week. In the wake of Barack Obama’s support of marriage equality, the same-sex marriage rally in Melbourne on Saturday and IDAHO this week, the messages learned from Matthew Shepard’s murder are as pertinent today as they were in 1998.
Opening night pictures 16th May
Top left: Carl Katter and guest
Top right: Josh Thomas
Middle: Tom Jaspers and guest
Bottom left: Glen Hosking and guest
Bottom middle: Brett Luderman and guest
Bottom right: Rosie Traynor (left) and Hester van der Vyver (right)
