Mo'Shroom

I'm still trying to manage a post a day, on average, for Mo'vember...

I recently had the unusual experience of attending the ED Talent Show. This is evidently a nascent tradition at my current place of work. I think this was year four, and it felt very much as if it was the brainchild of one particular consultant, but I maybe wrong.

It had been my intention to avoid entering at all, as I have precious little that could be described as talent; my plan almost worked, as most of the recruiting appeared to have been done in the week after my worst-weekend-ever experience, when I was off. (Track back a few posts if you really want all the gory details of that shebang...)

However, one of my colleagues had other ideas. Aware that moves were afoot to stage a production lampooning one consultant's appearance on a tv programme featuring a German anatomist, he had generously suggested me for the role of said anatomist.

I guess I do have a little of the Aryan about me (e.g pale and blonde, not necessarily intent on a European land war...)

So, Friday afternoon found me collared by one of the Nursing Sisters, urging me to step forward and 'do my bit'. For fear of being labelled a miserable bastard, I agreed.

Sunday night found me frantically downloading TV footage of the guy I'm supposed to be spoofing, desperate for any little character quirks he might have. Other than being German, and slightly odd, there weren't any...

Monday afternoon saw our company meet for the first and only time to thrash out a rough idea of where we wanted out sketch to go. And so to that evening, and the command performance...

The rest of the skits were a mix of the sublime, and ridiculous. There were musical turns, ballet dancers, and an inspired version of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody. Our entry went last, ensuring that the audience were well lubricated.

Much to my surprise, it went down a storm. Apparently nudity, a cod-German accent, one Boss spoofing another and the throwing of offal into the crowd went down very well. (You remember, of course, that they were all one or two over the eight...)

We won. Well, joint first, with the Queen team. No' bad, eh?

An evening of surreal clubbing ensued, as many of us remained in the angel wings and tutus used for the mini Swan Lake production...

The next morning, I began to question the 'wisdom' of having won, as it dawned on me that I had done so by taking the piss out of one boss, and beaten another into second... (well, third, but I didn't labour that point)

So... maybe there is life after medicine?