It was 6 weeks since the now infamous 'Croaking Diva Debacle', and the Pearly King hadn't been heard of at all in that time. There had been no notes, no interruptions and no pranks: in short, he'd completely disappeared.
The police had been called in, in order to deal with the somewhat suspicious demise of Joe Bucket. The subsequent investigation ruled out foul play and concluded that Joe was perpetually intoxicated and in all likelihood tripped and fell in a drunken stupor and it was, according to the official report, 'his own fat fault'.
The Theatre's management, in order to quell the disquiet of the past few weeks had decided to throw a massive knees-up. The theme they chose was a masquerade ball: The colour scheme was Gold and Black. They'd invited all the staff and the richer and more influential of the theatre's patrons.
Phil 's taxi pulled up. He emerged from the cab resplendent in a gold and black demon outfit with phallic horns and a gas mask. He sauntered over to the theatre doors where Grant was waiting.
Grant was dressed in a Ali G outfit with a shiny black mask that had a large and dubious 'horn' coming out of its forehead.
"Phillip my good man," said Grant, "How are you on this fine evening? Welcome to the knees- up!"
"Why thank you Senor Grant" replied Phil, "And a splendid knees up it seems to be. Such a shame that the Pearly King is absent and will miss it. "
"A shame indeed dear boy." Replied his partner.
As Phil and Grant exchanged insults, another taxi pulled up and out got a man dressed in Persian robes.
"Why it's our dear friend from Paris!" exclaimed Grant, "How are you old boy?"
"I am well," replied their guest "How are you and your brother?"
"We ain't bad" Grant responded. Phil however was distracted by Peggy, who had just arrived dressed as a masked Wonder Woman. "Ignore Phil. Any sign of cleavage and he goes weak at the knees. Anyway, We'll catch up with you soon dear boy, go on in and get a drink while we greet our guests."
"I shall catch you soon" the Persian guest turned to Peggy "Would you care to accompany Madame?" He extended an arm, which she accepted.
"I'd love to," Giggled Peggy Beery. "How do you know those two?" Peggy asked, hoiking a thumb at the managers.
"Well, I was in the original book by Gaston Leroux, and for practical purposes in Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical version I was mostly merged with Madame Giry, the only physical remains of me was the figure of a monkey in Persian robes sat on a barrel organ. Warner Hedgehog decided to redress the balance a bit, and when he was writing this parody invited me to this party and I accepted. He seemed to think it would be nice to include me, if only in passing."
"That sort of makes sense. It was very nice of him." Peggy responded," It's a bit of a co-incidence that we're talking as I myself am a parody of A.L.W.'s Madame Giry. Mr. Hedgehog sort of combined me with Peggy Mitchell from Eastenders, so I'm one hell of a peculiar mish-mash. Anyway, enough of this post-modernist gibbering, shall we have some brandy?"
"Don't mind if I do," replied the Persian.
Outside Ricky and Chrissie had just arrived. They were dressed as Tweedle dum and Tweedle Dee. Chrissie had a cheap plastic ring on a chain around her neck as an accessory.
"Viscount Camberwick, Miss Dyer, so glad you could make it", enthused Phil.
"Happy to be here my man" replied Ricky.
"Wouldn't miss a knees-up for the world," Chrissie added.
As they shook hands and hugged, another taxi drew up and disgorged Madame Carlotta and Ernie Panell. Letitia Carlotta was dressed Alice in Wonderland and Ernie Panell had come as The Mad Hatter.
"Madame Carlotta, so pleased you could be here. Welcome to the knees-up Mr Panell," grinned Grant.
They did the obligatory hug-and-kiss as Viscount Ricky and Chrissie went indoors. Letitia and Ernie followed them shortly after.
After about half an hour of mindless chit-chat amongst the guests, the house band started playing some background music. This carried on for another 15 minutes, when Phil and Grant entered the foyer. That's when the band launched into their cockney classics repertoire. After playing the Lambeth Walk in various styles for comic effect (and to get the crowd going), the band started to play 'Roll out the barrel', so everyone climbed the big staircase and to joined in.
Suddenly the orchestra reached a bit in the score they weren't expecting. What was a bit of jolly cockney musical japery suddenly became serious and heavy. A panel at the top of the staircase suddenly opened and lots of smoke poured out. Out of the smoke stepped the Pearly King. In a red and black costume complete with skull mask.
"Oh for god's sake" muttered Phil "I thought we'd seen the last of that masked ponce".
"Shut up" snapped the Pearly King "The rest of you are a bit quiet; did you think I'd left the Theatre? Not a chance! I have written you a musical, and I bring to you the finished score: 'James May Triumphant'!" With that he threw a leather-bound wad of paper on to a desk that he was passing.
"A few points before I leave you good sirs." He calmly sauntered over to Phil and Grant. "My managers must learn that their place is on a scrap heap and not the arts" He meandered over to Letitia, "Madame Carlotta must be taught how to act and not to prance about the stage screeching like a wounded wombat" As she put on her most affronted expression, Billy turned to Ernie,"You have a terrible habit of stuffing pasties into your face. It's not healthy in a man of any age, let alone yours. Maybe you should think about cutting down before your waistline balloons." He paused and noticed Chrissie and Ricky, "As for Miss Dyer, she's good but not great and if she truly wishes to excel she should return to me, her teacher and forget that floppy haired nonce she chooses to hang around with. Your soul belongs to ME!" He snatched the ring from around her neck and jumped backward. A hole in the floor opened up in front of him with a lot of smoke and a bang and Billy leapt into it.
Chrissie turned to Ricky "What a weirdo. You gonna go after him?"
"Are you kidding‽" replied the Viscount, "he could have any sort of trap set down there: a hall of freaky mirrors, killer rabbits, rabid ducks, anything. Sod that. Wonder why he grabbed that stupid ring before he pissed off?"
"Maybe he thought it was a secret engagement ring or something?" mused Miss Dyer.
"What an odd bloke." Ricky observred.
With the atmosphere completely ruined, the guests at the knees-up stood about nattering about what and odd and possibly dangerous nutcase they were dealing with. During this strange period of confusion and wittering and general hubbub, Ricky happened to strike up a conversation with Madame Beery.
"This Pearly king has everyone on edge" commented Ricky.
"Yes he has. He's a strange one and no mistake," mused Madame Beery.
"He has this place as his own playground and us as his playthings," Ricky ranted.
"But his main obsession is Chrissie it seems," Peggy noted.
They were aimlessly wandering around the theatre as they chatted.
Peggy stopped at a seemingly random point. "This was where he first used a secret door", she said to herself.
"What was that?" the Viscount asked.
"Nothing, nothing! Just gibbering to myself!" Madame Berry hurriedly blurted.
"No, I think you know more than you're letting on" Ricky persisted.
"I know no more than anyone else!" wailed Peggy.
"I don't think that's true. You know more about this Pearly King, you have to."
"All right, I know a little" she conceded.
Ricky wasn't going to give in easliy "But Madame Beery, A little is better than nothing.
Madame Beery sighed. It'd been a long day so far and now this pillock wanted information.
"All right mister." She said wearily, "I do know something. Follow me." She led him to a secluded little room somewhere under the stage. "We should be safe here. It was many years ago when I was a mere dancer. Beppe's French Circus was in town, and they had him as an exhibit: 'Come and see the hideous accountant' they said, I entered the tent and was ushered along by a grubby bearded man, and all of a sudden, there he was: a child in a cage with a bag on his head and an ill-fitting pinstripe suit. As the crowd gathered, the beardy in charge entered the cage and went to the boy and pulled the bag from his head. The crowd erupted I tells you, erupted. They were jeering, laughing, pointing and smoking."
"Is that important?" Ricky enquired, "Surely smoking is nothing really to do with it"
"They were proper minging. That's all. I suppose the stench stood out in my mind. Anyway, when they'd seen enough they drifted off to see some of the other dull crap in the circus. When the crowd had gone, the beardo went to leave the cage. The boy in the bag suddenly leapt up and clonked the bloke on the head with a bit of wood. What else could I do? I helped him escape.
As we ran from the circus, our path was blocked by one of those awful French clowns. He refused to do anything funny and just stood there shrugging. I had to punch his stupid grimacing face, I just had to, do you understand?"
Ricky nodded. "Only last week, a travelling French circus was in town and one of their clowns stood there shrugging at me, so I too have punched a clown in his ridiculous face."
"Anyway" Madame B continued "We legged it from the circus and he's been here ever since."
"Would you say he's gone loopy in the intervening time?" The Viscount enquired.
"Yeah, probably." Said Madame Beery gloomily.
With that, they went to rejoin whatever was left of the by now ruined knees-up.
