Man oh man I love my cast.

Tonight's rehearsal.

The rehearsal of the gigglers so they should have all been slapped.

Kirsty, slightly less ailing than she has been, bless her angelchild heart, said (our collective) favourite line:

I love chups.

Emma sniggered happily, perfectly on cue.

Finally, Gary was staggering through his closing heartbreak.

And Kirsty, she of the angelchild heart, whooped WHOOPED I tell you, with laughter.

And it was ruined. Slaps all round. But how can a proud mother hen slap the prettiest collection of chickens known this side of the West Coast?

Can I pickle this in aspic and keep them for always?