Another year, another letting out, and I’m still squeezed into the bloody costume so tight I can hardly say my lines. Well, it’s been 20 years now since I first appeared, all young and tinkerbellish, and I loved it.
Nobody loves a fairy when she’s forty
Nobody loves a fairy when she’s old
She may still have a magic power but that is not enough
They like their bit of magic from a younger bit of stuff
When once your silver star has lost its glitter
And your tinsel looks like rust instead of gold
Fairy days are ending when your wand has started bending
No-one loves a fairy when she’s old.
Jerome Van Der Dyke. Calls himself that. He were Jimmy Duckworth at school. Three years before me so he didn’t notice me. I didn’t let on. He’s so happy preening like the great impresario. We’re only the Litherland Players but the way he goes on you’d think he was that NIGEL Bart. Anyway, I’m doing another year, whatever he says. Told him he could lump it and Angela can take over next year.
Thing is, he insists on playing Prince Charming but he’s looking a bit haggard and can’t remember his lines, even after all these years. It’s time young Gerry had a go but I’ll fix it this time. I’m going out with a bang.
Jerome has these prompt cards all over the set. I’ve had a little go at them. Not all of them; just the ones that will get noticed. My favourite is the one that is supposed to say:
“Oh Cinderella! The slipper fits you perfectly. You shall be my bride!”
It’s just a small change but the words will be out before he notices.
“Oh Cinderella! The flipper sh*ts you perfectly. You shall be my bride.”
There are a few others but I won’t spoil the surprise.
Tonight’s the night!
You shall go to the balls-up!