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 are prancing along next to me looking smug; Joanne is clutching a fistful of fivers. In what could only be a miracle caused by Fax holding his stupid obsidian, they’ve made a slight profit on today’s show. This is because everyone had a good time watching that naked man dancing on that roof, and they decided it would be rude not to thank Fax for this. Not that I can blame them, it’s the most fun I’ve had since I got here.
‘I told you Fax would be a success!’ crows Joanne. I don’t say anything, who am I to piss on their bonfire?
We’re wandering along up some street, with no real plan for the evening. Joanne and Fax are in a good mood because a naked guy inexplicably got them some money, I’m in a good mood because I had Quality Street for lunch and the sugar hasn’t worn off yet, and to top it all of it’s not raining. The world is our deep-fried oyster.
The area’s relatively quiet, but we still manage to be accosted by a billion people offering us ‘free five-star comedy’. I see the bald climate change Yul Brinner girl approaching; she doesn’t recognise me, but I recognise her.
‘DO NOT EVEN FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT.’
Then she does recognise me, and slopes off.
Joanne looks round after her. ‘What’s the matter? Do you not like that show?’
‘No, I’ve seen it. It’s about weather.’Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapters 41 & 42: Stepping Out, Nuclear Warheads”