Back in January, I attended a showcase for the National Theatre of Scotland's forthcoming year. They outlined various riches including something called The Great Yes, No, Don't Know Five Minute Theatre Show. 

To be curated by Davie Greig, this was an endeavour to offer 24 hours of live-streamed five minute pieces of theatre on a Referendum theme. 

So I submitted what must be getting close to being the most recycled play(let) ever and was - ta dah! - chosen to perform it as part of this epic venture. Along with 179 others. 

You have two choices. Three actually. To pre-record and send it in. Practical if you're the other side of the world. Or very organised. Or you can record it live on the day (and a night and a bit of a day), either at one of their performing hubs or you might have a roving camera crew sent out to find you and film your endeavours in situ.

I'd boldly said I wanted this piece of mine performed at the Parliament. A powerful promise. That I was then forced to follow up when NTS said they would indeed send a crew to us on location if we were at the Parliament. Why wouldn't you for a Referendum-themed show?

Dan very kindly furnished me with a contact so the quest began. Promisingly. Sounds interesting, she said, but it's not me. You need to speak to he. I emailed he. Sounds interesting, he said, but I'll need to consult they. Can you send me the script? 

With thanks aplenty to Scotrail wifi, I sent the man the script. And waited. A weird bumper (Friday and Monday!) Scottish bank holiday got in the way. Waiting. 

Extremely promptly the morning they got back, a "really great idea but afraid we can't right now". Of course they can't. They're about to run a Referendum. My five minutes has the "First Minister" railing and cursing at - you'll have to wait and see. So this wasn't a great surprise.

But it means we need a back-up. Fast. Rehearsals start Sunday. In a situation eerily reminiscent of the Big Burns Supper, I currently have no venue for my soon to be beloved cast. 

So if you're sitting on (or in) a plush office that looks like it might house a First Minister and could be opened to a small group of travelling players and a camera crew on the evening of 23 June, please get in touch. I'll remember you when I'm famous...