Crap Comedy Chapter 39: Purple Ones

Crap Comedy Chapter 39: Purple Ones

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 end up on a road I recognise from our drive here in the van. My first instinct is to shield myself from ‘silent disco’ knobheads, but there doesn’t seem to be any around, so that’s good. However, there are still four billion people on this street, all absolutely convinced that they need to be somewhere more urgently than everyone else.

After ten minutes of getting elbowed and suitcases running over our feet, the three of us duck into the nearest building that looks like a pub/bar/café/restaurant/fucking brothel/I don’t care just let us get off this bastard street.

It’s a café. Fair enough. Café is fine. We’ll have lunch then Fax can go do his show, Joanne can threaten the audience, and I can pretend I’m not with them.

The guy behind the counter looks surprised to see us.

‘Oh!’

‘Oh sorry are you closed?’

‘Oh no no not at all!’ Come in, grab a table!’

The urgency in his voice suggests we need to be quick if we want to ‘grab a table’. We’re the only ones in here; I think ‘grabbing a table’ is going to be a piece of piss.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 39: Purple Ones”

Crap Comedy Chapter 38: Handstand

Crap Comedy Chapter 38: Handstand

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.

Half an hour later we’re out the door and making our way through the park. I’m still wearing my barbecue sauce jeans. In fact, the only thing I’ve changed is to add sunglasses to my outfit, even though it’s cloudy. Fuck any daylight escaping into my retinas this morning. Fax is wearing his velvet suit again.

Joanne and Fax spot a group of people doing handstands in another part of the park. ‘Oh, circus skills! Come on Mel!’

I stand my ground. ‘If by ‘come on Mel’ you mean ‘Don’t worry, we’re just kidding, we’re not going to make you attempt a handstand so last night’s gin comes out of your face’, then that’s fine.’

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 38: Handstand”

Crap Comedy Chapter 37: Oh Fuck, Part 2

Crap Comedy Chapter 37: Oh Fuck, Part 2

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.

Oh Jesus Christ not again. Right, brain, what did we do this time?

‘Me?’ snorts my brain. ‘Don’t look at me, this is your stupid fault. You know I can’t talk to you when you’ve had ten gins. I had an early night last night, so don’t come asking me what you got up to.’

I don’t need to open my eyes to know this is bad, I can smell the cough medicine. However, when I do finally open my eyes I discover I’m alone in the bed. Small mercies, I suppose. Eww, my foot just touched a sock.

I go through yesterday morning’s routine of crawling to the bathroom, being sick, then sitting on the loo trying to remember the night’s events. Christ, is this my life now? Am I doomed to repeat this cycle for all eternity? Or at least until Sunday. I hope not.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 37: Oh Fuck, Part 2”

Crap Comedy Chapter 36: Wunderbar

Crap Comedy Chapter 36: Wunderbar

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 pub is called the ‘Kilderkin’. I don’t know what that means in German; I hope it doesn’t mean ‘I murdered my family’. As soon as we step inside my headache feels better, thanks to the air conditioning and dark wood panelling everywhere. It smells of chips and hot dogs, and there’s some sort of rock music playing at a discreet volume. I like this place.

The ‘cabaret room’ is separated from the main bar by a curtain. Fax and Joanne disappear behind it excitedly while I go to the bar. I really need to start pacing myself, so I just order a beer. Fax wants a mineral water, and Joanne wants a pint of Stella, which isn’t like her.

My phone vibrates in my bag. Just as I’m wondering what to tell head office if Saif really has managed to burn the Co-op down, I remember Lee said he’d text me. I was hoping he’d have a change of heart. I was hoping he’d remember some urgent mending he had to do, or that he’d suddenly become gay.

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Crap Comedy Chapter 35: Kaftan

Crap Comedy Chapter 35: Kaftan

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.

It’s just gone 9 when I get back to the flat, feeling more like a squeezed-out dishcloth with every minute that passes. Joanne and Fax are in the kitchen eating muesli. This is one of the most normal things I’ve ever walked in on them doing – normally they’re naked or trying to summon Mesopotamian gods. Maybe eating muesli is just part of the ritual. I’m onto them.

Fax jumps up to greet me, which takes me by surprise. ‘Oh Melissa, we are glad you’re OK!’

‘OK’ is an optimistic term, but I’m alive if that’s what he means. I just nod, then immediately regret nodding, because nodding makes my headache a hundred times worse. I need some solpadeine.

‘And where did you get to last night, madam?’ snorts Joanne. She’s incredibly relaxed for someone who thought I was dead an hour ago. I ignore her as I root around in the cupboard for painkillers and a gun to shoot myself with.

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Crap Comedy Chapter 34: Oh Fuck

Crap Comedy Chapter 34: Oh Fuck

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.

My bastard head. Please kill me now. Please God, stop hitting my skull with a pan and just put me out of my misery.

God/my brain tells me ‘you need water’. I do. I also really need a piss. I roll over and collide with…

Oh my fucking Christ no. Please let it be a dead rat instead.

I collide with the body of Andrew Scunthorpe, who I apparently spent the night with. He looks a lot less like Andrew Lincoln this morning. A quick check confirms that at least I’m wearing some sort of t-shirt. The pillow smells of cough medicine.

I roll back over and close my eyes. My phone buzzes. After what feels like a month, I look at it. Even if my phone is filled with Joanne and Fax’s bullshit, at least they can come and get me in the meat van.

Three missed calls. One text from Joanne, two texts from Saif.

For fuck’s sake. Right, I need a big piss before I can deal with any of this stuff.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 34: Oh Fuck”

Crap Comedy Chapter 33: Paddy McGintey’s Goat

Crap Comedy Chapter 33: Paddy McGintey’s Goat

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 wander around for a bit until I come across a man doing the most amazing balancing stuff. Seriously, he’s balancing on a pole by one strand of his hair. I instinctively look for the strings that must be attached to him, but that’s stupid because they’d have to be attached to the sky. I think he’s just really clever.

For the first time this week, I clap because he’s good, instead of because Joanne is elbowing me and ordering me to clap. My clapping is a bit too enthusiastic, because I end up slapping the hand of the guy next to me. I shuffle away a bit. Shit, he must have thought I was trying to get his attention, because he turns to me.

‘This guy’s amazing isn’t he?’

‘Oh, erm, yeah. Sorry didn’t mean to hit you with my hand.’

‘That’s OK. Oh my god look at him now!’ He points and I look back at the balancing man, who I swear is now balancing on one finger. How he doesn’t work for MI5 or whoever magic people work for is beyond me. I’m definitely going to stick a fiver in his bucket.

When he’s finished (and fuck knows how he still has a penis after that finale) I hunt around in my purse for a fiver.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 33: Paddy McGintey’s Goat”

Crap Comedy Chapter 32: Queue

Crap Comedy Chapter 32: Queue

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.

Joanne and Fax have gone to watch – and I quote – ‘A man in a gorilla suit laughing at various fruit put in front of him’. This is somehow a thing. This means I’m on my own, relatively sober, belly full of food, rest of the night to fill. It’s only half 7, and I’m on my own with, well, oh Jesus, let’s see how much money I’ve got left.

I fight my way to a cashpoint. Why does everything this week involve fighting your way to something? Must be a Scottish thing.

Right, it’s fine, it’s not that bad. Forgot I earn a bit more now. Bills are covered. Money’s fine, as long as I don’t do anything stupid, like give a hundred quid to a busker.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 32: Queue”

Crap Comedy Chapter 31: Poutine

Crap Comedy Chapter 31: Poutine

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 get to a place called George something, which Joanne suggested because apparently they do ‘vegan chilli and some lovely hummus’. As soon as we get within sight of it, my stomach is battered by the smell of food. I am fucking starving. All around us are vans chucking out meat, and crepes, and chips. I might get all three, and put them in my mouth all at once.

One problem – between me and every item of food stand two dozen people in a queue. They’re only doing this to piss me off, they don’t really need food. Case in point – the two girls in front of me in the first queue I join, which promises to lead me to a van called ‘Burger City’. I challenge you to think of a place you’d want to live more than ‘Burger City’. I mean, if it was an actual city, not just a creaky van. I’ve spent long enough in a fucking burger van.

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Crap Comedy Chapter 30: Olivetti

Crap Comedy Chapter 30: Olivetti

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 make our way through the park. I’m still muttering ‘80 quid’ to myself over and over again, so I don’t notice the park has become a market until Joanne and Fax start going ‘Oh look, Himalayan salt lamps!’ I look up from my self-inflicted misery to see stalls selling ‘hand woven dream bags’ (whatever the fuck they are), ‘goat soap’, and crystals. It’s always fucking crystals. I guess we’re not having dinner for a bit then.

They’ve stopped at a stall called ‘The Psychic Hedgerow’. ‘Ooh, tourmaline!’ says Fax. ‘Would that help with potential stage fright?’

Joanne gets a tiny book called Crystal Prescriptions out of her bag, and they pore over the best remedy for stage fright that involves holding a rock.

While Joanne and Fax shit themselves over ‘septarian flame’ and ‘rough agate’, I browse the other stalls. There’s really annoying clicking noise following me wherever I go. With any luck it’ll be my bones giving up, and then I can just lie here in a heap and die quietly. 80 fucking quid. At this point it might have just been easier and cheaper to hand myself over to the Andi Peters QVC Police.

I try to distract myself by looking at dragon statues and handmade cards with pictures of fairies on them. I recognise the fairies as part of the ‘Dawn Bibby Fairy Enchantment Collection’, which they sell late at night on Create & Craft. I told you, I have a problem.

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 30: Olivetti”