|Fleet Services: Gateway to the South|
And for the first time in the year-and-a-bit we've been going, there was a nasty heckler stage right.
Fleet is so middle class nobody dare look down in case they notice they've got genitals, so heckling at Fleet Comedy Club is usual of a polite and polished standard ("I say, good sir! We heard that joke about Fleet Services last month! Do try to come up with something orginal, old bean!"). This particular lady came from outside the town, seemed determined to cause trouble, and made some of the audience so cross we nearly said something.
Alas, after the first interval, she was horribly, horribly rude to the compere, was asked to leave, stood her ground, and things got a bit tense from there. People might call it bullying, but it was the bully who got taken to pieces, and to say she got crucified was an understatement.
Luckily, the front of house staff looted the nearby hardware store and were on hand with wood, hammers, nails and a ladder, everything to help us in our drink-fuelled bloodlust, helping us all get back in time for the headliner. And they're right, crucifixion's not so bad if you all pull together as a team - even the victim took time out from her cries for mercy to offer personal insults on people's weight and appearance.
But - boy - we knew we were all going to regret it in the morning. It's nowhere near Easter, and the local rector's got the sole concession on the execution of outsiders and undesirables round here.
Still, after a couple of years living in Fleet, it's nice to know that I finally belong to this town, even if it's through the medium of hammering a witch to a tree next to the skate park.