Once you have your bank manager placed upon the sideboard with the weasel sellotaped to the LEFT-hand side of the DVD player then you can see about whisking up the unguents to the required consistency for application to the front wheels of the naked vicar’s roller-skates. Until then it is probably best to leave the pineapple slices in the vicinity of the post-mistress until you have finished vigorously towelling-off the librarian and her assistant.
Now, I’m sure that many of your own quiet evenings with a few close friends have gone as smoothly (if you did remember the lubricating unguents, of course) as the evening described above when we in the Little Frigging Amateur Opera Society undertook the undress-rehearsal for our version of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro.
As it happens, I do enjoy assisting the cake shop manageress, Fanny Knickerless, improve the coloratura of her arias. At least, whenever I can get the firm grasp on the devices that such a strategy necessarily entails, even without the good tailwind and a hand-cranked turbo-weasel usually needed to help ease her into her bel canto.
Be that as it may, and it might as well be, until at least Act II, where we must get the salami prepared for the scene where the Countess secretes Cherubino in the closet.
Then, of course, we will have to get the traffic warden ready to receive the watermelon in the Finale, whilst the badgers dance around the suitably-restrained stockbroker festooned with pineapple rings about his person in readiness for the closing aria.
We do feel there is no reason why, after a few more undress rehearsals, we should not be ready to give our first public performance sometime in the early summer, providing, that is, that the orchestra can get his violin repaired in time.