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” →

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 wonder which poor fucker is going to feel Joanne’s wrath today. I’m hoping Alan isn’t stupid enough to come back, I don’t care how much he needs a poo.

I’m still suffering from temporary diabetes thanks to Che Guevara’s Lying Quality Street Buffet, but I reckon I’ll be OK to get myself another pail of chips. Joanne orders me to buy her another pint of Stella. After yesterday’s performance, I’m starting to see why she wants it. It’s like super fighting bitch fuel.

I can’t help being in a good mood, despite everything, because tomorrow I’m going to see Dave Nonsense, in the flesh, and possibly have him fire a Super Soaker at me. I really hope he’s not senile, and in a wheelchair, that would lessen the effect of him gunging people. With any luck he’s just bald and trying to pay child support to his ex-wife, who I’ve just made up in my head, but is called Michelle and has a pool.

‘Mel will you come and hold Fax’s obsidian?’

Well, that sounds like the last thing I want to do.

‘Mel! We need you to hold Fax’s obsidian so he can cleanse the room!’

Yes. Why else would they need me to do that? It all makes sense now.

I stomp off to the other room. ‘Right, what is it I’m holding and why?’

Joanne has her hands on her hips. ‘Where’s my pint of Stella?’

‘It’s in the pump you fucking idiot, because I haven’t ordered it yet because you shouted at me to come and hold Fax’s agoraphobia pebbles.’

Continue reading “Crap Comedy Chapter 40: Wunderbar, 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.

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” →

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” →

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” →

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.

Continue reading “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.

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.

Continue reading “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.

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” →

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” →

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” →