Back in the 80s, we were doing a production of a "Dad and Dave" play in a little theatre up in the North end of town. The theatre had raked seating, with wooden floorboards all the way down, and a sloping aisle instead of steps. I was playing Dad, and young Johnno was playing Dave. I reckon it was the Saturday night this happened - fairly packed house, and the audience was enjoying it.
So anyway, we're doing a dinner scene, sitting opposite each other at a small table in the middle of the stage, when some poor bastard up the very back of the theatre drops an entire packet of Jaffas. Into the aisle. The sloping, wooden aisle.
It was an incredible bloody racket, and I don't know how long it went on for, but we just sat there on stage, staring at the table, waiting. It felt like a bloody long time.
Then, just as the very last Jaffa rolled to a stop, in the second of silence that followed, Johnno looked up at me absolutely deadpan, and in his best Dave voice drawled
"I told yer that sheep was constipated."
I had to walk off stage, the ba$tard. Brought the bl00dy house down.
