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.
