"So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersein, Goodbye . . ."

Well folks, it happened.

The last ever lesson. Bad times guys, bad times.

The idiot took us outside for our final Brecht orientated learning sesh, where we re-enacted any play that we'd studied in a Brechtian fashion.

After myself, The Grandad, Fringe and The Not-So-Quiet-One (NSQO) rejected re-enacting Romeo and Juliet and West Side Story (we wanted to incorporate Dalehead's fire escape Okay?) The Grandad suggested the terminator.

He then proceeded to march up the staircase in a robot-esque fashion, before quickly being heckled by his remaining sane cast members.

So eventually we settled on Phaedra. To say we got distracted is an understatement. Highlights included . . .

1)

Moi: What scenes should we do?

Fringe: "Ah! She is Dying!" scene?

NSQO: Yeah, and maybe the opening?
Grandad: Wasn't Punch and Judy based on Romeo and Juliet?

2)

Moi: [To the Grandad] Hold the sign higher!
NSQO: Now it's covering your face! LOWER!

Idiot: Why does it say Haemon?

Moi: We're doing the bit where she tries to seduce Haemon.

Idiot: I think you mean Hippolytus. Haemon's in Antigone guys.

Moi: Don't tell Colette!

Fringe: Especially because I'm resitting this paper next week!

3) The Lothario hitting himself with a stick/twig, thinking no one had noticed and going red when he realised that we did in fact see everything.

4) The Grandad attempting to return a football to the people on the Astroturf by kicking it over the fence, missing it completely and having to walk slowly up to it before camply throwing it back over.

The best part was probably the cheesy "gather round the table" moment at the end of the lesson, when we all divulged our most favourite drama-related moment to the group.

The Lothario: Pulling on two trips.

The Idiot: The lesson where he attempted to teach The Lothario not to swing on his chair.

These two where majorily outfavoured with the majority of The Cast deciding upon The Grandad's falling incident earlier on in the year. The highly comedic pratfall was furthered by the ever so embarrassed and gentle whisper of "Don't Look At Me!" as he lay bent over the theatre seating, bag over his head and arse in the air. I only wish I'd taken a picture.

The lesson ended all too soon.

We packed up or stuff, said our goodbyes and left. No tears, no hugs . . . nada.

True, we had a lesson with Colette the morning after, where amongst other things The Grandad, Lothario, Little Miss Topshop and Myself touch on topics including midget sex and Spit-roasting (Yes, that kind!) but still, the occasion went by fairly unmarked.

Hence the muffins. Individually iced. So atleast when people think back to their last lesson, their heads might not be able to think of much but their stomach might go, "ahhh yes, the 5th of June 2009, approximately half past ten in the morning, I believe I enjoyed the best chocolate muffin I have ever eaten, all thanks to the girl in the spotty red dress."

So until the 30th of June, that's it really. 25 days til we all get on that coach and take the 5hr trip to The Capital. We plan on getting as drunk as possible. Until then, blogs'll be few and far between and probably not drama related, more a case of what's grinding my gears (theraputic this malarky I tell thee).

So to The Cast thanks a bunch for two amazing and unforgettable years together!

And to the people of London I say this:

Brace Yourselves!