It was a few days shy of Christmas and Kenneth had
arrived at Talbot ‘Tolly’ Rothwell's (Carry On scriptwriter), house with just
three hours to learn his lines, rehearse his scenes and partake in a dress
rehearsal.
So, with time short .. Kenneth did none of the above
three. Instead he put on a show there and then, to an audience of just three.
Tolly, my dad and myself sat enraptured, though a
little intimidated, as Kenneth delivered uncensored anecdotes on the behind the
scenes going-ons of his fellow Carry On stars.
The air was blue, Tolly and my dad were blushing and
fidgeting awkwardly in their chairs .. while I was in seventh heaven. Kenneth
noted my youthful abandon and delivered many of his cutting/killer punchlines
down his long nose and directly to my lugholes.
With an hour till showtime he tired of us and was
whisked away to the local village hall. By all accounts, he adlibbed the local
amateur dramatic society off of the stage, endeared himself to few of those in
attendance, and loved every minute of the unforgettable and outrageous scene
had he created.
My dad dined-out on the story
for years to come. As time passed he somewhat elevated his part in that night’s
proceedings. He really should have known better. There was only one performer
that night, and he played a blinder!
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