Panto Chronicles - The Reviews Are In

[peg22]

So it's just too delicious - Paul is Beyonce and David is Jane Fonda and no new shows are being written and so reality TV is taking over the tube and so I figure this is my contribution to Reality TV - Davey Loves Paulie: The London Years . . .

here's the review:  http://www.countrylife.co.uk/blogs/article/168957/Review_Peter_Pan.html

and here's the story:

it's RPalmostS
it's those boys I love
it's keeping me sane during the holiday rush

it's always for LS

Panto Chronicles Part 2 - The Reviews Are In

 

 

Hello?

 

What are you wearing?

 

Davey?

 

Who else calls you and asks what you’re wearing?

 

Wouldn’t you like to know?

 

So . . . what are you wearing?

 

Shorts and a t-shirt.

 

Short shorts?

 

Davey – really, doesn’t this ever get old?

 

Nope – you still look like sex on a stick in shorts. No matter how old you get.

 

Thanks – I think.

 

So, what’s all this Beyonce shit?

 

Beyonce?

 

Yeah, according to the rags, you’re like the older grandpa of Beyonce in your skit.

 

Oh, the review.

 

Oh the review? Please, Paulie – it’s me. You’ve probably committed it to memory.

 

I have not.

 

And what young blonde reporter are you bedding by the way?

 

I’m not bedding-

 

-because they even liked your accent.

 

It’s a good accent.

 

They don’t like anyone’s accent – you’ve got to be sleeping with someone . . .

 

Sorry, Davey – flying solo these days.

 

Don’t have to. Say the word and I’m in a taxi.

 

Yes, because that would solve everything.

 

Solves most things. 

 

But in the solution lies the problem.

 

God, I love you. We should run away to Borneo . . .

 

I thought you were too busy stopping the war and schtooping protest chicks.

 

So you do keep tabs on me.

 

Hard not to. David Soul lends his voice . . . Hutch Fights Back . . .

 

Hey, I do my part.

 

Oh, I don’t doubt that. What’s her name this week?

 

You’re just jealous.  So, you know I’m coming tonight, right?

 

(silence)

 

Paulie? Did you hear me?

 

Yes, I was just waiting for the other shoe.

 

Other shoe?

 

You know – I’m coming tonight AND I have tickets for your show.

 

Well . . . now that you mention it . . .

 

You’re so predictable.

 

And you love me.

 

Inexplicably, yes.

 

Heh – you gonna use those five dollar words tonight in the skit?

 

Yes, just for you.

 

You know what you can do – just for me?

 

I don’t dare imagine . . .

 

You can invite me over after the show.

 

You know you’re welcome . . .

 

No, I mean all the way over – like for a sleepover.

 

A sleepover? What are we, Davey? Twelve?

 

Hey, it’s the new thing – Alan and Denny have sleepovers all the time.

 

Alan and Denny – oh . . . “Boston Legal” Alan and Denny?

 

Yeah – reminds me of us sometimes – those balcony scenes – the dancing, the touching.

 

Shatner’s making a hell of a lot more than we did.

 

Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s always the money with you . . .

 

It’s a lot of money.

 

This coming from the treadmill king of New Jersey. How many fucking commercials have you done now?

 

Hey, don’t knock the commercials. Paying for my divorce, those commercials.

 

Okay, okay – I’m just saying – we could do those roles – that show. We should do that show.

 

Yes, I’m sure we top David Kelly’s list of guest stars.

 

You underestimate our appeal. As usual.

 

And you overestimate it – plus I thought you weren’t working in Los Angeles anymore.

 

I’m not . . . I’m just . . . oh hell, Paulie, I don’t’ know. I just miss you.

 

Ah, Davey, I’m right here.

 

I know. And I think it’s worse this way. You’re only a fucking train ride away now, but you’re so goddamn busy and I’m so goddamn busy. And you’re going to go home and I’m going to have pissed it all away in some pub with the likes of Hugh Laurie and Fry and probably that damn Alan Rickman, and all I really want is to just spend a week with you. Alone. I’m like some goddamn lovesick girl begging for one more chance. But it’s all I want. Just a week. Seven days. No work, no obligations, no press, no pressure. Just us. I just need to be in the same room with you, on the same beach with you, at the same bar with you – without it being for work, or for some other goddamn fabricated reason that you need in order to make it okay in your part of the universe. Okay? But I know it won’t happen because it never happens – and I don’t count 1999 because  . . . well . . . I just don’t – and then I sit in a pub dreaming up projects and reasons for us to get together and then this fucking panto comes along and you’re here – in England – and I get all juiced thinking that finally we can spend some time – some real time – together and then . . . well . . .

 

It’s okay, Davey.

 

No it’s not, Paulie. I mean, it is. It has to be. It’s just not.

 

What do you want me to do, Davey? I mean, really – what do you want me to do?

 

I want you to forget everything I just said. I’m just a pathetic bastard.

 

Yes, you are, but I’m used to you.

 

Fuck off.

 

Does that mean you’re not going to come over after the show?

 

Don’t mock me, Paulie.

 

I’m not – I’m serious. And you’re right. At least partly.

 

Which part?

 

Well, I miss you too, you know?

 

Now who’s pathetic?

 

You’re an ass. But you’re my ass . . .

 

Must you remind me of – hey, you’re not wearing tights tonight are you? I might have a damn heart attack if you’re wearing tights tonight.

 

Then who would sleepover with me?

 

Again with the mocking.

 

I’m serious. If Alan and Denny can do it . . . I mean, hell, we created the genre, didn’t we?

 

What genre? The “feel up your best friend whenever you get a chance, even if it’s not written in the script” genre?

 

That’s the one – so I’ll meet you at my flat, okay? And don’t get drunk before.

 

What – no stage door?

 

No stage door, Davey – I don’t want this to become a thing.

 

Fuck, Paulie – are you Captain Hook or Mother Theresa?

 

Come to my flat and you’ll find out.

 

Your phone bravado is such a turn on – if I didn’t know it never lasts past the dial tone.

 

And don’t bring anyone, either, okay?

 

You want to fax me a list? No drinking, come alone – should I wear a red carnation in my lapel?

 

You know you have the tendency to collect people when you’re out . . .

 

Collect people?

 

Yeah, I can’t remember a time lately when at least Coltrane and Fry didn’t suddenly appear at your side.

 

They’re my friends, Paulie. I have other friends, you know.

 

Well, I’m your only friend tonight. Okay?

 

Why Paul Starsky Hotpants Glaser – I do believe that is as close to a proposition as I have ever heard from you.

 

I’m changing my mind already.

 

No, don’t. I’ll be there. Alone.

 

Okay, so I’ll see you tonight.

 

Tonight it is.

 

Don’t sound so victorious, Davey. It’s just a sleepover. I’m not going to marry you.

 

You say that now. So, until tonight?

 

Why am I already regretting this?

 

Because that’s what you do, Paulie. You worry, I drink. It’s our thing.

 

Maybe I should drink and let you worry.

 

How bout we both drink and let your lawyer worry?

 

My lawyer?

 

Bye Paulie.

 

Davey, what? My lawyer?

 

Bye Paulie. Break a leg tonight, matey.

 

Oh hell - bye Davey.

 

Comments

[lauramcewan.livejournal.com]

I love you.

[tipitiwitchet.livejournal.com]

This? Is brilliant.
Absolutely infuckingcredible.
(Hope you don't mind me dropping in to say so.)
Cassandra

[kimberlyfdr.livejournal.com]

::Smooches You::

[ancastar.livejournal.com]

Usually real person stuff makes me nervous. But I loved this. It was sweet and funny, and just the teensiest bit sad. Well done, you.

[callistosh65.livejournal.com]

You are a total and utter genius. Nuff said.

::HUGE giggly kiss::

[lyricalsoul.livejournal.com]

*sigh of contentment*

[peg22.livejournal.com]

ah . . . blushes . . .thanks

[peg22.livejournal.com]

thanks girly - love you to drop in - anytime!

[peg22.livejournal.com]

smooches back - love your icon, btw.

[peg22.livejournal.com]

oh glad you read it - I love these characters - thanks!

[peg22.livejournal.com]

thanks girl! You know I just report the events. . . snerk!

[peg22.livejournal.com]

*basks* feel free to jump right in - I know you get the reports from London as well . . .

[kimberlyfdr.livejournal.com]

Love knows no age :)

[benzine-torch.livejournal.com]

You know, ever since I fell in love with SH and started learning about the real guys through online fandom, I've had these guilty little (or big) RPS thoughts. When you have DS go on his long ramble, sounding so unhappy and longing, that's really how I've always imagined it would be, so it is really neat to see how your interpretation matches up with my own.