Marc and I did a short fifteen minute improv set (with two other gentlemen from our London group) at a pub called The Bath House last night. Our final scene was a game of Detective with Marc as the detective and me as the deputy.
The murder weapon we got was tampax (key line later on: "Gosh! Look at all this blood everywhere!"), and the location was a pub. But when it came to selecting a celebrity murderer, the audience overwhelmingly began shouting out 'Michael Barrymore', an Eighties British TV presenter with whom I'm familiar but I knew Marc wouldn't be. Unfortunately the only other suggestion was 'Jim Davidson' (another, even more obscure Eighties British TV presenter) so I had to take it.
Marc got it, bless him, after some pretty cheap tactics ("Oh, my phone's ringing, let me just take MY CALL"; "Well, let's get this body to the cemetery and BURY MORE of him than is buried right now"), but, mostly for his benefit, I present these clips from the golden age of British entertainment. Please appreciate the undercurrents of racism and/or homophobia from the audience. I also love that all male British gameshow presenters wore tuxes at all times until well into the Nineties.
When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him.
-The Eleven Satanic Rules of the Earth[quote database]
