I am assured by those involved that this actually happened*."Hello, Supreme Talent Agency, how can we help?"
Might as well get straight to the point:
"Yeah, do you do dwarves?"
"If you mean persons of restricted height..."
"Yeah, dwarves..."
"...then we have a number of these artistes on our books. What kind of production are you staging?"
"Stag night."
"I beg your pardon?"
"We want a dwarf for my mate's stag night. We're going to handcuff him to the dwarf for 24 hours and go on a pub crawl."
"I... I... don't think..."
"It's OK, we'll feed him. Or her."
"I'm sorry. There's no way we can let one of our artistes go through with this. It's degrading. It's.. it's... just not the sort of thing we do. Good. Day."
> click <
Five minutes later, by the magic of 1471, the phone rings.
"OK, we've spoken to our dwarf. Five hundred pounds and free drinks."
"Fifty per cent discount?"
"What? Why?"
"We reckon we can get him in places half price"
> click <
* May not have actually happened
IN OTHER NEWS: It is my birthday. Send cake.
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