On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

As I approach my flat, I find myself inexplicably trying to move ‘stealthily’, like I’m some sort of fucking spy. It’s not really working, given that I’m pulling a suitcase and the vodka bottle I liberated from the Feng Shui Co-op is clinking in my bag. Also, the Andi Peters QVC police probably won’t be waiting round corners just in case I come back off holiday. Probably.

Great. Here comes the world famous fat, hungover spy, getting up in people’s business because… the Queen… there’s probably a bomb somewhere. No there isn’t. OK, here comes the world’s shittest spy on account of how you’re not supposed to be famous if you’re a spy you fucking idiot.

No one’s around when I finally stop being enough of a twat to go inside the building where I live. Not even Tony from downstairs. Oh shit, what if Andi Peters has killed Tony from downstairs? Like, as a down payment? I don’t know, isn’t that how mafias work?

Come on, get a grip. Andi Peters would not go round killing Tony from downstairs.

Right, I have to stop being such a coward and go inside and face whatever they’ve decided to punish me with. And I need to do it before Tony comes upstairs and asks if I’ve ‘been looking under men’s kilts’, which is something Tony from downstairs would say, even if he was dead.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

I call in at work on my way back to the flat. This is a sign of how desperate I am not to go home.

Abu Dhabi. Why Abu fucking Dhabi? I don’t even know where that is but it sounds like there’s probably a war there. And I don’t even know eight people, let alone eight people I’d want to be stuck on a boat with. I know I should go home and face whatever music is waiting for me, but I can’t. This wouldn’t have been a problem had I just started living at Knutsford services, foraging out of bins like I wanted to.

All the way to the Co-op I try to rationalise it in my head. I should go straight home, but my legs and brain have other ideas.

Things waiting for me at home:

• Sofa
• Hot bath
• Food (if I buy some food, otherwise no food)
• TV
• Not being in Scotland
• Possibly Andi Peters and his henchmen
• If not, probably a letter demanding money, signed by Andi Peters, maybe in blood

Things waiting for me at the Co-op:

• Saif

While annoying, Saif isn’t as bad as a letter written in the blood of QVC.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

The train carriage smells of wee. For some reason I keep thinking going to the buffet car would help with this problem. It might help for all I know, but I’m never going to test that theory since it involves moving. Better to just learn to live with the wee smell.

Joanne and Fax were still in bed when I left this morning. This was good because I didn’t have the embarrassment of them coming to see me off like they’d threatened to last night when they were smashed (Fax said something about a hankie). On the other hand, I did have to hold in my puke and judgement long enough to go into their bedroom while they were in it.

I inched my head around their door, nose first; to my relief they weren’t engaged in copious amounts of farmyard grunting and I Gave My Love A shitting Cherry, they were just asleep. Joanne was snoring.

‘Guys, I’m off now.’

No reply.

‘Guys?’

No reply. At least one of them farts.

‘WAKE FUCKING UP’

Joanne wakes up. ‘What?’

‘I’m going now.’

‘Going where?’

‘…Alton Towers.’

‘…’

I’m going to the train station aren’t I?’

‘Oh right yeah.’ Joanne thinks for a minute. ‘Will you get me a sugar free Red Bull while you’re out?’

‘Yeah.’ I don’t bother explaining to her why this is not going to happen. I’m too hungover and late for my train to start going over the finer points of energy drink logistics.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

We gave up on Snap not long after that. I suspect they knew I was going to forbid any showing of Joanne’s tits or Fax’s willy. In they end they settled on a 0-0 draw, but they’re still sitting there muttering about how ‘tantric wind energy can totally be a Snap when it’s paired with a lunar goddess card’.

Right. Reasons this has been a shit week:

1. Everyone in Scotland is a vegan.
2. I don’t understand these people and their jokes.
3. I’ve seen too many naked people. The ideal total would have been 0, unless Andrew Lincoln was involved.
4. I never did get near anything resembling meeting Andrew Lincoln, let alone having Fax do his weird sex maths at him.
5. I have bagpipes disease.
6. I possibly have less money now than if I’d stayed at home and waited in for Andi Peters to arrest me.

On the plus side, I did get to upset that barman by talking about Brian Clough.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

After all that fannying about, we end up back at the flat with a load of wine and crisps. We could have just done that anyway. I know it was me who wanted to go out, but I’m still annoyed at those two for existing, and smelling of vegetables.

Fax has produced a pack of cards from… somewhere. If he tries to do card tricks at me I am not going to be responsible for laughing in his face until one or both of us die.

Still, I’d rather be sat on a settee with a load of booze and food than out in the cold night, being forced to listen to a load of students being shit at Welsh accents.

Joanne arranges the bags of crisps in a circle on the kitchen table. She never explains the purpose of this. When I go to grab a bag of Skips from the circle, she slaps my hand away. I’m too tired and too pissed to argue, so I go for the Monster Munch. She slaps my hand away.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

Some song starts playing. I think it’s the Kaiser Chiefs. Something about rioting, or getting arrested, or condoms. Not sure. I wish Fax had got me something stronger than Stella. I mean, it’s not like I demanded another pitcher of “Assblaster”, but it would have been nice.

A group of skinny kids run onto the stage. I immediately hate them because they’re waving and acting like they’re at Butlin’s. Then I remember that I chose this show, so I make my mind up to act like I’m really enjoying myself, just to spite Joanne and Fax.

The main one bounds over to the microphone and yells at us.

‘WE ARE THE DE MONTFORD UNIVERSITY IMPROV ALL-STARS!’

That name rings a bell. Did they try and shove a flyer in my face?

They carry on flailing about while I go to the bar for a Stella, a Campari, and hopefully an arsenic and lemon. I only chose this show because I vaguely remember watching Whose Line Is It Anyway when I was younger, and that was always funny. Whose Line Is It Anyway didn’t feature screeching students in matching t-shirts.

When I get back to our table, Joanne is squinting at the stage. I assume she’s trying to read the writing on their t-shirts. I’m not much better, but I’m almost certain it says ‘De Montford University Improv All-Stars’. In comic sans.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

If I’m absolutely honest, I’m starting to doubt that finishing a pitcher of “Assblaster” before 6pm was a good idea. I’ve already fallen over once. The three of us are staggering up the street like we’ve lost our carer. Joanne’s got the improv leaflet in her hand, and she claims she’s taking us the right way, but she hasn’t once looked at the leaflet to see what the address is. There’s no point questioning her about this, because she’ll just claim she can “sense” when we’re there. In the meantime they’re walking ahead of me, having a bizarre mumbled conversation about rugby union. If either of those two know the first thing about rugby union I’ll shit in my hat. And I don’t even have a hat.

I must have misheard them; they can’t possibly be having a conversation about rugby union. Not those two. And why are they walking on ahead and leaving me out?

I plod a bit faster to catch up with them. ‘What are you two talking about?’

‘Using reiki as a healing tool for the genitals.’

‘Oh.’ You know what, I’m fine walking on my own.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

Fax is back to his usual prancing self when we meet up again. He seems to have forgotten that a few hours ago he was standing on a stage crying over a balloon. No sign of the velvet suit, but Fax does seem to have an infinite supply of shirts he imagines make him look like a Catherine Cookson hero, so he’s OK. We make our way to the nearest pub to inspect some more leaflets, and decide what this evening’s quality entertainment will be. I feel like I should choose because I’m going home tomorrow. When I put this to Joanne and Fax they agree without argument, surprising me for the second time this afternoon.

We sit there sorting through the assorted miniature billboards of shite. Subconsciously, I’m looking for one that will lead me to the annoying guy on the poster, who I’ve come to think of as my arch-nemesis. I’m still mad that I never got to write “I AM A HUGE TWAT” on his forehead. If I’m really lucky I can find out where he is this evening, then sneak up on him and write it on his real forehead, in permanent marker. That’ll learn him.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

I’m not sure how to feel about this turn of events. On one hand, it’s obviously hilarious. On the other hand, I’m not sure Fax understands what the show involves. And on the other hand (that I keep for best), I’m a bit worried about what Joanne will do to Dave Nonsense if anything happens to Fax. Like if he starts crying because he gets a question wrong. Thank fuck he isn’t wearing his purple suit today. Apparently he’s not allowed to clog up the pub with his shite on weekends, therefore no show today, so he’s opted for his usual outfit of linen and big sleeves.

I spin round and glare at Joanne. She shrugs, as in ‘well I tried to tell you’. She did nothing of the sort. Joanne takes one of my flumps, and settles back in her seat.

Meanwhile, Fax is attempting to explain his stand-up show to a bemused Dave Nonsense. Dave is nodding along and looking round frantically. Joanne is now standing up in her seat and cheering for Fax. She is the only one.

On the run from Andi Peters following a misunderstanding about cruises, Melissa begrudgingly agrees to follow her friend Joanne (and Joanne’s 17th century throwback ‘life partner’ Fax) to the Edinburgh Fringe. While leafleting for Fax’s dreadful stand up show about faith healing and vegans, Melissa endures the highs and lows of pretentious student plays, ‘street typing’, and the knowledge that her shop has been left in the hands of someone who doesn’t understand tills…

Crap Comedy is the follow up to the 2018 novel Crap Holiday. Read it here.

‘Come on fucking hurry up, we’ll be late!’

For once this is shouting this at Fax and Joanne, not the other way round. I am skipping down the road. I’m so excited to be seeing Dave Nonsense in the flesh. I’m 10 years old again, eating Honey Nut Loops in front of the TV. I can spend the rest of the day riding my bike and going to buy stickers with my friends, and I don’t have to get ready for school until tomorrow evening, after Bullseye.

Joanne and Fax are mooching along behind me, whingeing. Joanne has my sunglasses on. I don’t give a fuck – they made me go to circus skills with a hangover, so it serves them right.

‘I’ve got no fucking sympathy for you,’ I yell at Joanne. ‘You never even gave me a pen last night like we said! That man’s still out there without “TWAT” written on his forehead.’

She shuffles her (my) sunglasses. ‘I was busy.’

‘Yeah, I heard you being busy with rowan trees and giving your love a cherry. I don’t give a fuck, come on!’

I skip ahead. For once I’m full of beans. Nonsense! Wheel of Seafood! Silly Sausages! I can’t wait.