We were set the task of extending the autobiographical performance we had created the previous week and told to include a seeming non sequitar. I did create the work, which you can see below,  but it agrieves me to say I miss my chance to perform it – though my own fault. Please enjoy it and let me know what you think; I hope to eventually perform it so I can write about the feedback I received.

TSUNAMI IN STOKE-ON-TRENT

The story I’m about to tell you is called, “Tsunami in Stoke-on-Trent”;

For those that don’t know the dictionary definition of Tsunami is…

 

A large destructive ocean wave caused by an underwater earthquake or another movement of the Earth’s surface

 

This story is about myself and my friend Daniel Phillips and the first thing you need to understand is that Stoke is completely landlocked; the only water found is the River Trent which run through; hence why it’s cleverly called Stoke-on-Trent.

 

The next is about Dan himself;

 

Male, 22 – recently started his third first year at University and roughly 5 ft 7. Dan and I have been friends since our first Theatre Studies class in college, six years ago, where at the end of our first class when I hadn’t even spoken to him he came over and said “Hey, would you like to be in a film with me?”

 

I had to reply, “What kind of film were you thinking?”

 

 “Not like that! Not like that!” He laughed off in his grrrrr, manly I AM STRAIGHT way. However I had to tease him about that throughout our first year at college.  

 

The next is the sort of humour we share; it can be quite dark and cruel. For example when being shown the beautiful scene from the Elephant Man where he turns to the lady and says; “Would you like to see a picture of my mother?” Dan and I created many other lines such as; “Would you like to see a picture of my mother? She’s also my half sister…” And there were worse. This line “would you like to see a picture of my mother” became a common phrase. For example, (hold up picture of Maggie Thatcher) If we saw a not so attractive girl instead of saying something cruel like fugly, we’d subtly act like her and say the line. It even became a common greeting.

 

Until, after one night where I was meeting Dan to go the cinema and I was walking down the road where the Tsunami occurred. Dan saw me coming towards him when he was stood by a pub, a perfectly square pub with two windows on each side so if you stood on one side you could see diagonally through two windows. What a great chance! Dan thought to use the line and jump out on me. He waited, saw me and jumped onto my back and said “would you like to see a picture of my mother!?” and burst out laughing hitting my back.

 

Unfortunately that laughter soon stopped when he looked at my face and was shocked to see that I had a great big bushy beard and was not me at all but he had jumped on to a stranger. He was lucky not to be hit, the gentleman just as shocked as Dan walked away then turned round and called back “fucking freak”.

 

“Fucking freak” was to replace the old phrase as well as “great big bushy beard” because we did get to the cinema that night and it was to see Hot Fuzz where that line is said. But you see it had rained that fateful night where Dan had attacked a man with pictures of his mother. When he met me further up the road he walked past me as I’d not said hello too shocked by his pale white features. I had to turn and call him back; he saw me and relief swept his face. He started to recount the tale, but as I said it had rained that fateful night and by the road was a rather large puddle, stretching the length of this studio two and covering most the road. Stoke – shithole of England with terrible drains obviously. Dan is still shell shocked and explaining his story and we’re stood on the pavement half way along the length of the puddle when I see a lorry coming towards us doing about 40.

 

It hits the puddles and I see a wave of water rise and thunder onto the pavement, Dan’s looking the other way and doesn’t see what I’m seeing – in slow motion that is – I grab him and shout “ruuuuuuuuuuun!” Him not knowing why I’m dragging him running looks behind and sees the mound of water heading our way. His face turns ashen and he goes “urrrghh” which was his scream in slow motion. But we ran as fast as we could, the water pounding behind us and we can see the end of the puddle. If only we can…. we hurdle the last stretch and are safe. The water dripping from everywhere is settling back but we are safe and dry. And that is the only time there has been a Tsunami in Stoke-on-Trent.