Sliming The Boards
Thanks to a friend in the theatre, a Mole was given the chance to interview a fine British luvvie for his college newspaper, way back in 2003, and was promised ten minutes after the show with the great man. But who was it?
Enjoying the play (Ibsen's 'Brand' in Haymarket), the Mole nipped backstage to thank his friend at the interval, to be confronted by the sight of the thespian ushering an usherette urgently into his dressing room during the ten minute break, trousers already tented at an angle.
Surely not? In a ten minute break? With an usherette? When said thesp was already famously involved with a much-older (and willing to turn a blind eye to her priapic beau) actress?
He managed to do the deed with five minutes to spare, emerging from the room with a grin on his face and actually zipping up his fly like a cad in a seventies porno. The play resumed and the Mole enjoyed the second act greatly, laughing continuously.
Laughing at the famously grim Ibsen. During a play about a man witnessing the death of his wife and child... But what could be so funny?
The Mole, from his seat on the front row, could see copious amounts of spunk littering the front of the great man's trousers and glowing heartily in the spotlights, like slug trails on a sunbaked patio.
It's not particularly interesting - I looked it up - it's Ralph Fiennes. He certainly puts it around...
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