A CHICAGO CABARET

Hello, and welcome to this special lockdown edition of The Autolycan. You've probably noticed that newspapers and magazines are full of helpful suggestions for things to do in lockdown, and The Autolycan is no exception! So in this edition we're going to make an earworm. Or two. It's all about songs from the movies – well, two particular movies – Cabaret and Chicago. But you've got to do some work this time, because in order to make the songs come alive you've got to add the music to the words. You can do this alone, in the family, in your bubble, round the piano, from your balcony, in a street get-together with neighbours (properly distanced of course!) - the list is endless! If you've forgotten the music to any of these songs, I've included links to relevant YouTube clips at the end. Enjoy your earworm!

A CHICAGO CABARET

or

LET'S MAKE AN EARWORM!

CAST

Emcee : Dominic Cummings

Sally Bowles : Boris Johnson

Mama Morton : Donald Trump

Roxie Hart : Michael Gove

Amos Hart : Dominic Raab

Billy Flynn : Rishi Sunak

SYNOPSIS

Roxie Hart and Sally Bowles are both desperate to be Prime Minister, and both are quite happy to stab their rival in the back to prevent her succeeding. When the post falls vacant, Sally employs Roxie's former assistant – Emcee – to run her campaign and subsequently act as power behind the throne. But her premiership turns farcical when she is required to deal with a major pandemic. So, come to the cabaret.......

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Emcee

Fick dich! Fous toi! Fuck off!

Sally recruited me and then snuck off.

I must say, it makes me mad

That they call me her senior SPAD

When truth be told and quite bizarrely

I'm happy to be called Svengali!

I've mastered political survival

I used to boss Roxie – Sally's rival.

From loyalty I'm wholly free

And rules don't apply to me

Even when some stupid arse'll

Track my trip to Barnard Castle!

Meine damen und herren, mes dames et messieurs, ladies and gentlemen. I introduce to you my protegé, Sally Bowles, who wants to tell you how much she wanted to be a Prime Minister! You don't believe that someone like Sally can possibly be Prime Minister? Well, with me in charge she can! 

Sally Bowles/Boris Johnson

Maybe this time, I will triumph,

Victor ludorum, I'll be first!

Maybe this time - it must be my time! -

Rivals will be accursed!

I'll get sworn in, fast,

Destiny met at last.

Not a minion any more

But the guy at the top of the very top drawer.

Everybody loves old Boris

So everybody loves me!

Boris PM! Boris happy!

That's what I long to be!

I'm entitled, went to Eton,

I'm the right sort of cove!

I'll inherit, I am Chosen....

I am destined.....

To kick the shit out of Gove!

Emcee

And now, ladies and gentlemen. With Sally in post as Prime Minister, she looks across the ocean to renew a Special Relationship with the Baron of Bombast, the King of Chaos, the Leader of the Free World....... well, that's what it says here....

Mama Moreton/Donald Trump

Got a little motto, just right for a Brit,

Try to mess with Donald,

He'll treat you just like shit!

There's a lot of favours you're equipped to do,

You do one for Donald,

Then another, too!

Chlorinated chicken, hormone treated beef,

You say you won't accept it.

Just bow down to the chief!

I don't like opposition, especially from you,

Disagree with Donald,

You'll disappear from view!

So what's the one conclusion, unless you tell me yes?

Donald puts the boot in –

And takes the NHS!

Emcee

And now, ladies und gentlemen. They say you shouldn't make enemies on the way up – you might meet them again on the way down. But they never said that to Sally.... and Roxie Hart has not forgotten......

Roxie Hart/Michael Gove

The name on everybody's lips, it shoulda been – Govey!

The name right at your fingertips, it shoulda been – Govey!

I wanna be a superstar, that means having my name up in lights -

I'd be on telly every day, but Boris thinks it's his by rights!

The virus needs a fall guy - ain't a-gonna be Govey

Who says betrayal's not an art?

And if I have to take the flak

Who's gonna stab him in the back?

Roxie 'Govey' Hart!

Emcee

But then ladies und gentlemen, Sally falls ill with a mystery virus and somebody has to take over. Roxie sees her chance, but no, Sally wants not Roxie Hart but Amos Hart, probably because most people don't have a clue who he is!

Amos Hart/Dominic Raab

If someone stood in for the boss

Most folks would give a sort of toss

And if he answered PMQs

You'd notice him.

If someone gave the wrong advice

Was found to be quite imprecise

But still gave loads of interviews

You'd notice him.

Sunak and Hancock often get a break

Even Patel – though that's hard to take

I don't know how I manage to stay sane

No recognition of my Megabrain!

Megabrain

Mr Megabrain

Not that I'm too vain

Mr Megabrain

I can shout and bellow

Be tough or mellow

And no-one gives a damn!

Megabrain

Mr Megabrain

Couldn't be more plain

Mr Megabrain

I've got credentials

Cover the essentials

And no-one gives a damn!

Emcee

But, ladies and gentlemen, the virus takes hold! People die in their thousands! Businesses close, jobs are lost, the economy......... ah, the economy......... what can we do about the economy, it will need a a financial wizard, a necromancer, a sorcerer........

Billy Flynn/Rishi Sunak

Give 'em the young Dishy Rishi

Dishy Rishi 'em!

Give 'em an act with lots of glittering

They'll never know how much you're frittering.

Give 'em the old business rate relief

Hug and comfort 'em

How can they argue if they've got the cash?

Why not dispel their sorrow – most of it -

Though you will have to borrow most of it?

Dishy Rishi 'em

With a lot of panache!

Give 'em the old four fifths furlough

Dishy Rishi 'em!

Though their concerns are only workaday

Everyone loves a mortgage holiday!

Give 'em the chance to put off payments,

Blind and dazzle 'em

When you're in trouble find someone to blame!

Make sure they feel both wined and dined

Though later you'll have to rob them blind

Dishy Rishi 'em

And you can bask in the fame!

Emcee

And that concludes our show, ladies and gentlemen! But always remember that just like these fine folks here, you can like the life you're living, you can live the life you like, because life is just a cabaret old chum! Good night!

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Clips can be found at

Wilkommen : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBlB8RAJEEc

Maybe This Time : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMpSQV1-bsA

When You're Good to Mama : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yy6j2LUyh24

Roxie : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-_HTUapDQo

Mr Cellophane : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKHzTtr_lNk&t=196s

Razzle Dazzle : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByeXMGqapnU

TALKING TURKEY

Hello, and welcome to an edition of The Autolycan which almost but not quite steers clear of coronavirus.  This one follows on from a delightful headline about Charles Dickens which the Guardian printed some time ago.  Apparently he and Thackeray, who had been friendly for years despite the huge difference in their social class, had a bit of a spat in later life, hence the invective.

Please feel free to pass this on to anyone who you feel might like it and/or want a bit of cheering up in present circumstances!

TALKING TURKEY

Charles Dickens's final Christmas turkey lost by Great Western Railway

Rediscovered letter records that 30lb bird was despatched by train but transferred to a replacement coach service that caught fire.

The Guardian

To : The Freight Manager, Great Western Railway

…..but I didn't get no satisfaction there neither, so I thought I know best go straight to the top, get it sorted, know what I mean, whole thing goes back about a month now when I was ordering my Christmas turkey as per normal up the butcher's when he says it's got to come GWR from Ross-on-Wye, 'Ross-on-Wye?' I says 'that's bloody miles away, what's that all about then?' and he goes 'you won't hardly credit this, Mr D, it's got something to do with introducing competition across the network, improving standards and driving down costs for the benefit of the consumer' and I says 'don't give me none of that crap about driving down costs, I'm old enough to remember the Tolpuddle Martyrs, dash my wig!' and anyway how can I be a bloody consumer if I've got nothing to consume on account of you've lost it, and I don't want none of that bullshit about failing on this occasion to meet our normal high standards, it's not that long since you people half killed me in that train crash, nasty business, losing my turkey is just adding insult to injury, the gilt on the gingerbread as you might say though probably not, metaphor never was my strong point, although the guilt of the injured head was definitely yours, ha ha, I'm better on puns, OK, not that much better, but I can do witty stuff you know, how about “there are books of which the backs and covers are by far the best part”, that's one of mine, I was thinking of that old fool Thackeray at the time, William Makepeace Thackeray, that is – Makepeace? - I mean what kind of family calls their bloody kid Makepeace, final nail in the coffin of nominative determinism if you ask me, toffee-nosed twerp never did try to make peace with me after that time we fell out, probably realised he was out of his league, I mean Vanity Fair, is that it?, I could go on but where was I, oh yes, my turkey, or rather the lack of it, I mean you lot up GWR can do difficult stuff like Box Tunnel, and fair dos, that wasn't easy but you can't find my bloody turkey, well, I'm saying 'turkey' but the despatch note says it's a thirty pound job, must have come from that farm just outside Hinkley Point, probably got four legs, five even, to weigh as much as that, what's Mrs D going to do with a thirty pounder, it'll never fit in the oven, we'll be eating turkey sandwiches till Easter when the kids will turn their noses up and gorge themselves stupid on chocolate instead, can't be good for them, and what if it's got one of them viruses, bird flu was it last time?, salmonella?, good job it's the whole bird not just the crown or it might get coronavirus, corona – crown, geddit?, just my little joke, and why you have to take it off the train and stick it on a replacement coach service beats me, have you any idea how much sheer dread is conjured up in the head of the average punter by the phrase 'replacement coach service', catching fire is the least of it, anyhow, seems to me that there's an opportunity there for a bit of a graft, know what I mean, substitute my thirty pounder for a smaller one, then transfer that back to a train somewhere else and swap it for a chicken, by the time it gets here I'd be lucky to get a bloody quail, have you ever tried feeding, what - eight kids is it plus God knows how many grandchildren, I lose count - off a quail, now I'm not saying for definite that's what happened and to be fair I didn't never get no quail which would have proved it but you can't help wondering, anyway I'll tell you what, I had this great idea see, you know I said I'd got all these grandkids, well I said to them let's have a bit of a competition, prize for the winner, how about making up a story explaining how GWR come to lose my bloody turkey, well, swearing, Mrs D don't like that and gives me one of her blackest looks, and the Devil himself don't have blacker ones, but fair enough, I hold my hand up, but anyway it was a kind of challenge to the kids to use their imagination, now I know I shouldn't really have asked little Augustus, kid's got a very dark side, very dark, always has had, and he come up with some quite chilling stuff about the bird being stolen and taken to Stonehenge where it was sacrificed on the Heel Stone at midnight and its heart buried at the dead centre of the circle, then various other bits buried under different what-do-you-call-'ems – the ones like goalposts except they can't be 'cos they didn't have football then - trilithons, that's it, and when they chanted some black magic incantations all the bits were resurrected and came together again as a Freight Manager, ha ha, no sorry, he didn't really put that, he put vampire, but you see what I mean about him, very odd for a kid his age, he's only seven, but anyway I give first prize to little Emily who come up with a heart-rending tale about Rudolph falling sick at the last minute, Santa didn't know how he was going to get round, when my turkey puts its wing up and says let me take Rudolph's place, I'm sure I've got the strength after all I am a thirty bloody pounder – and you simply wouldn't believe the trouble I got in for that off Mrs D, there are no words - but anyway Tallulah Turkey, don't ask me where she got Tallulah from, kids eh?, gets harnessed up at the front and just about gets round before collapsing of exhaustion and pleading piteously that someone should come and say sorry to me for ruining my Christmas dinner, then lies down and gobbles her last, what a talent that kid's got, bloody sight better than that plodding oaf Thackeray, he couldn't never have thought of that, but getting back to the competition I gave a special commendation to young Charles who come up with quite a promising story, needs a bit doing to it to smarten it up a bit, but good for his age, anyway in his story there was a miserable old skinflint, he called him Scrooge but I'm sure an old pro like me could think of a better name than that, and Scrooge is mean and horrible to a bloke called Cratchit who works for him, no idea where he gets these names from, and Cratchit has a disabled kid, well he would, wouldn't he, and Scrooge gets visited by three ghosts, puts the fear of God up him, so on Christmas morning he sees the error of his ways, yells at some passing kid to go and buy a massive turkey and take it round to the Cratchits - perhaps I'd better have a word with him about just how easy it is to buy a turkey on Christmas morning - anyway, when it gets to Cratchit it turns out to be mine, apparently the ghosts had seen to that, Cratchit whistles up Scrooge and me and the kids and I tell them all to come here with the bird and we'll have Christmas dinner at our place, all works out a treat if a bit late by then, story full of holes of course but see what I mean about the lad having a bit of promise, oh by the way, sorry about no full stops, my publisher says there's a national shortage- I expect you've lost them as well, have you? - and can I get by with commas, semi colons and colons, 'semi colons and colons?' I said, 'who uses them?' then I remembered its Vanity Fair colon followed by some subtitle, he's probably been panic buying colons and semi colons, got cupboards full, just the sort who would have, anyway, I got to go now, so I just want to say I got great expectations that you will sort this turkey business out for me, we're having a hard time without it in what is a bit of a bleak house

Yours ever



Charles Dickens 

ANAGRAM CORNER

Haven't done one of these for a while, but didn't want to let the moment pass 

O! CORONAVIRUS BITES ME!

BORIS VENOMOUS : I TRACE!

REVIEWING THE SITUATION

Hello, and welcome to another edition of The Autolycan.  Given what's going on either side of the Atlantic I thought a bit of topical comment might be in order, and I've based it on Ron Moody's wonderful performance as Fagin in the 1968 film Oliver!  Here he is Reviewing The Situation -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96rC4X_KWl4  It gets better every time I watch it.

Hope you enjoy this edition of the blog, and if so do feel free to pass it on or Like it on Facebook.  Thanks.

REVIEWING THE SITUATION

after Ron Moody

A guy's super smart, isn't he?

A winner with heart, isn't he?

And I'm always the first one to say that I'm really a saint,

Though they paint me so black that they always run clean out of paint.

Ain't reviewing no situation

To my brilliance there ain't no mystery,

I get love and infatuation,

I'm the greatest President in history.

I play around with Stormy

And the masses still adore me,

Pelosi's got it in for me

I'll give her a lobotomy,

I'm really very devious -

A very stable genius!

No way I'm gonna think it out again!

A man's got ambition, hasn't he?

Guile and cognition, hasn't he?

And I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to Leave or Remain -

But Leave gave the best chance of Boris's personal gain.

I'm renewing the British nation,

And though I rather tend to flippancy

And I often lose concentration,

I still think I'm right up there with Winston C.

May pushed off with a final gasp,

And untold power was in my grasp,

I grasped it rather sloppily

But Brexit was vox populi

I haven't really thought about

What happens now that WE ARE OUT.....

But can't be arsed to think it out again!

A Queen's dignified, isn't she?

Aghast, horrified, isn't she?

And one gnashes one's teeth, throws a wobbler and rages and snarls

When one looks at the national shambles that's coming to Charles.

One's reviewing ones situation,

One's getting rather pissed orf with the press,

Where they ought to show adulation

They point out that the monarchy's a mess.

It's true the year's been bumpy

And it's made one rather grumpy,

And the Sussexes have buggered off

And left one in a frightful trough

No parallel in all one's puff -

One's 93, one's had enough!

And if Andrew's going to fornicate

It must be time to abdicate -

One's far too old to think it out again!