SPUNK! Chapter 11 (An 80’s musical novel, inspired by past events…with plenty of poetic license)

The auditorium doors swing open to a tapping on a conga drum.
‘Right girls, let’s show ’em what we’re made of,’ shouts a fired up Mrs Newman as she enters and takes command of the auditorium. Mr. Anderton shrivels into the shadows at the back of the room.
Newman swings her coat from draped around shoulders and somehow makes it look like a superhero transforming back into her alter-ego. It seems her super power is she can glow in the dark. Mainly cause she’s been burnt to a crisp on holiday somewhere in Spain. Everyone stares, they can’t believe how red she is, she couldn’t give a monkies by the looks of it.
Following behind is her sidekick Super Geekboy, the sleepy eyed, curly haired lad Bruno with his conga drum. He plonks himself down adjusts his drum between his legs and tap tap taps a sexy rhythm. I actually think he looks like a simpleton younger brother version of Simon with a mop on his head. Cute. Oh god now I’m back to thinking about what Tony and Maria might be doing at the back of the hall? Something gymnastic from the Kama Sutra probably. No I don’t want to think about it. I’m not going to look, I am not not going to look.
‘Ey girls look what I got from my holidays.’
I think we can all imagine what she got from your holiday, bikini shaped white bits.
Newman fishes in her oversized bag and pulls out a pair of casta-bloody-nets!
‘What do you think?’
No-one’s that impressed, but then again Adam Ant could come swinging from the riggings, in full pirate get-up and invite them to ‘Hoist The Jolly Rodger!’ and I’m sure they’d be like,
‘Oh, I can’t be bothered, do it yourself!’
It’s not really a good idea to schedule a dance rehearsal before the canteen is about to open with the smell school dinners wafting in. I know sometimes it smells a bit like sick but I’m starving.
‘Come on, chop chop, we haven’t got all day,’ shouts Newman.
She clacks the castanets alternately above her head. Then she goes all demented and stomps around like someones set fire to dog shit outside her house on Mischievous Night. I suppose she’s quite good, saying that I’ve never been to Spain so she could be diabolical.
Vanessa is faffing with her skirt, trying to put it on over her head and she manages to get one arm through. If Vanessa was a superhero the end of the world would be sooner rather than later. ‘Blunder-blunder, blunder Woman!’
‘God with that burnt face she looks like a friggin lobster, mumbles Vanessa half in half out.
Newman’s cleavage is burnt red raw too.
‘Rock Lobster!’ I sing adding a sixties dance move.
Vanessa joins in finally taking the chocolate bar out of her mouth,
‘Nah nah nah na na na na naaaa, Rock Lobster.’
Gemma and Melissa slither out of the shadows and dump their bags. Vanessa sighs in disgust, it makes me laugh, even if I do look like I’ve been gouging my eyes out with a pencil and stink to high heaven of sweating onions. ‘fame is pain’ as Angel Marilyn reminded me.
I sit myself down, and wait for Vanessa to do her rehearsal, then after we’ll get our school dinner together. I quite fancy Chicken and Mushroom Pie, lots of crust with gravy, mashed spuds and Jam Rolly Polly and Custard mmmmm! Oh no that’s made me think of Jammie Dodgers, then that makes me think of Leroy’s smile and then bloody Simon! NOOOOOO! I’m not going to look back….Don’t look back…..I look back… only to find a pillar in the way.
‘I hope you’ve all been practicing girls?’ asks Newman flicking her long full skirt.
Gemma stomps brazenly to the stage,
‘Miss, I have.’
She puffs up her non-existant chest and swishes her own long flouncy skirt, well at least it’s not a Ra-ra skirt, ufff!
‘You can’t just rely on being flirty in this scene,’ adds Newman setting out the intent of the dancers.
‘It’s not just about using your womanly wiles, no! You’ve got to show you’re strong, powerful, you mean business.’
‘What she means Gemma is you can’t just be a slag and promise a bag of pork scratchings…sorry whore!’
Oooo! My American accent sounded quite good then. I say it loud enough for Vanessa to hear and she pisses herself which makes Gemma turn and think people are laughing at her…they are.
‘Whore! Whore! Whore!’
Gemma seethes.
‘Just practicing my accent!’
She’s got a right cob on now, ha! I’m sure I’ve just seen her click her fingers, either way Melissa bounds forwards and follows behind on her invisible lead up onto the stage.
I can see Marc Almond pouting into the camera, ‘I would like you on a long black leash, I would parade you down the high street… Sex Dwarf…Sex Dwarf isn’t it nice, luring disco dollies to a life of vice. Love him!
Melissa’s hardly a disco dolly, more like a lacy doily, or a lacy dolly on the top of a bog roll, and it’s hardly a life of prostitution, acting. Though it could be a slippery slope if you answer the wrong ad in the paper.
She’s anything but confident more traumatised by the looks of it, like a lemming about to hurl herself from the edge a cliff or failing that the stage onto poor Bruno.
Vanessa’s looking a bit traumatised too, she really hates the idea of dancing on stage. She’s alright doing an aloof New Romantic ‘Dip Your Toe in the bath,’ with wafty arms or maybe a ‘Cockroach Stomp’ with flailing ‘don’t put me in a straight jacket’ arms, head all hung to the side, that’s more if you’re dancing to Sisters of Mercy or Bauhaus.
Vanessa drops her head to one side and looks at me.
‘You been crying?’
‘No!.. Well yes!…No!
‘God, what do you smell of?’
‘What do you think?’
She knew what my plan was.
‘You don’t need that, just think of er…what would’ve happened if Miss Leeds wouldn’t have been in and the bloody Service Crew would have got hold of us…or something happeing to your Cagney.’
‘Oh thanks!’
I don’t want to think of either, especially something happening to my baby Cageny, Timmy was bad enough.
‘Oh my god, look!’
Gemma flounces around on the stage like a drunken moth looking for her spotlight. Look at her, showing off to Bruno, banging his drum between his legs now she hasn’t got her ‘boyfriend’ here.
Melissa hovers near by, careful not to get a trotter in the mush. She’s looking straight at me. Oh god, I think I’ve got my first stalker…I suppose that’s good, you’re nobody in this business if you’ve not got a stalker.
Gemma flicks her head back and kicks her leg in the air.
‘Look at her, looks like she’s having an epileptic fit. Or like she’s on Seaside Special, with Ken bloody Dodd!’ Daft tart.’
‘She is a fucking tart,’ snaps Vanessa, ‘She’ll end up in Japan her with glitter on her fried eggs and mucky G-string up her bum!’
We piss ourselves laughing.
‘Er, Vanessa! We’re not waiting for Christmas,’ coaxes Newman.
She continues to take her own sweet time to get up to the stage and decides to take the steps and not jump up like everyone else. I can see this pisses off Gemma and she huffs and sinks her trotter into Melissa’s arm and uses her like a dance-studio barre and wafts her leg out behind a few times.
She’s never been to a ballet class in her life I’m sure. Oh god what a stench, all that exercise and not enough deodrant, I can smell her from the front row.
‘Right, I want you all to listen, shouts Newman…Now, feel the music…the beat…the rhythm. This dance is all about confidence, attitude, it’s about being young and proud, being in control.’
Her body wiggles as she demonstrates, a lobster-pink blancmange in heels.
‘You’ve got to feel comfortable in your perky skin, not like old saggy bottom here.’
Newman slaps herself on the wobbly arse and everyone laughs. I like her, she’s fun. She follows Vanessa up the steps onto the stage and gives her a friendly nudge.
‘Chop! Chop! We can’t start without the star of the show,’ encourages Mrs Newman as she winks at Vanessa which gives her the kick up the arse that she needs.
Gemma’s livid. Her trotter grips even harder around Melissa’s arm, she doesn’t move but I can see she’s in agony. Her snout nostrils flare and she looks the double of one of her pigs, I’m sure I hear her grunt or maybe that was Melissa trying to signal her arm is dropping off. Gemma finally let’s go, to her relief.
While Mrs. Newman blocks out some of the routine with the girls. I pretend yawn and casually stretch, seeing if I can get a better look to the back of the hall…behind the pillar. Yes I can see something, but first I cant work out what’s going on, for a second it looks like there’s a midget in rehearsal, ‘Aaaaaaaah Sex Dwaaaarf! My eyes adjust and I can see Simon is on one knee and Samantha-Jane is looking down at him all cute and demented like. Is he proposing marriage? Maybe he’s just tying her shoelaces? Will someone ever tie my shoelaces for me? Or just tie them together and wait to trip up.
‘5, 6, 7 and…’
Mrs Newman on stage is up front by the side of Vanessa, Gemma, Melissa and the rest of the girl dancers behind.
Bruno bangs away, he’s getting on my nerves now.
‘Make shapes and lines, get out of your head into your body, let yourself go. More light and shade Vanessa, and you girls at the back too. That’s good Gemma.’
Vanessa is thrown by Gemma’s compliment behind. It’s not like Mrs. Newman knows they hate each other and oblivious she just gets into the music, even if no one else does.
Mrs. Newman seems really confident like she knows who she is, bags of sugar hips and all. Gemma might have the technique but she hasn’t got the knockers to compete. Vanessa’s not doing too bad, she remembers the moves and lefts and rights but when you look at Newman next to her swinging her hips around like a snake, you can really see the difference. I think its ’cause it’s supposed to be a bit sexy Vanessa can’t do it.
Even though she’s tough as old boots, Vanessa doesn’t feel that confidant about herself, her brains yes, but her looks no. Most lads and fellas are not even looking at her face. She’s always been more developed since she was about eleven or twelve, always stood out, literally. I know what that feels like, everyone looking.
People don’t see you, just the part they want to see, and focus on that. They think they know you because you look or dress a particular way, basically because you don’t look like everyone else, then they call you names…and the rest. They don’t even want to get to know you, not that I want to get to know them either. I’m just ‘poof,’ or ‘freak,’ and that’s the worse thing on the planet as far as the lads are concerned or like Vanessa you’re just a pair of boobs, which is the best thing. You’re there to be ogled and laugh at, or just ogle and drool. .… Well fuck ’em, boring retarded bastards.
Yes so what, we’re freaks! All the people me and Vanessa are into are freaks and weirdo’s. Look at Marilyn and Boy George, Siouxsie and Lene Lovich, Marc Almond they don’t care. I bet everyone called him all the names under the sun, all of them, they’re the one laughing now. Simon wanted to be different, but now he’s the same.
Ha! I’d love to see Tony and Maria as weirdo’s in West Side Story can you imagine? Instead of the Sharks and the Jet’s it could be the ‘Freak’s’ and the ‘Weirdo’s.’ That would be soooo good.
Angel Marilyn appears, PUFF! Talking of weirdo’s.
‘Jonathan that is such a sweet idea doll, it’d be called ‘West-End Side Story,’ or even better ‘Non-Stop Erotic Soho Cabaret…Story!’….Hmmm! Still working on the title.’
‘Oh my god yes, that sounds good. Anything would be better than than this crap.’
‘What if Maria was a sexy dominatrix in shiny black plastic, hair in a high pony tail seducing the cute little pot monk Tony into a life of vice and mucky films.’
‘Ha! Yes as if! Marilyn that’s twisted and perverse and totally brilliant, love it. Though I’m not sure I can see Maria as being anything but sweet and pretty…vomit!
Marilyn waves a magic wand that looks like something he’s got from a pantomime.
PUFF!
‘OH…MY…FUCKING…GOD!’
Maria is now trussed up like a kinky turkey just like Marilyn described, but forgot to mention the spike heels. This is the best thing I’ve ever seen. She stomps over to pot monk Tony on his knees looking all doe-eyed up at her, she reminds me of Miss Leeds.
“I can make a film and make you my star
You’ll be a natural the way you are…
He’s totally under her wicked spell. Marilyn wafts the magic wand again, PUFF!
‘OH…MY…FUCKING…FUCKING…HAHAHAHAHAA!’
Tony is now the one trussed up — in leather harness, studded dog collar and black eyeliner. That is strangely hot and ridiculous and hilarious all at the same time.
…I would like you on a long black leash
I will parade you down the high street…
Maria points a Super 8 camera at Tony who is begging for a treat, like a good little doggy.
…You’ve got the attraction
You’ve got the pulling power…
She tickles him under the chin and pats him on the head.
…Walk my little doggie, walk my little sex dwarf.”
Tony walks behind her wagging his tail right in front of me. Oh my god Vanessa will piss herself when I tell her.
PUFF!
Samantha Jane pulls on Simon’s hand trailing behind as they walk between me and the stage, my eyes on stalks.
Marilyn flounces down beside me.
‘Baby you left me, Baby you left me in the cold, woaahh wooaah!’
‘MARILYN!’
‘No…It’s a new track I’m recording for my album, I’m just practicing my vocals.’
‘Aw! Yes it’s really good.’
‘Mmmm! That food smells nice. Right I’m off. I hope it’s Toad in the Hole.’
He dissapears in a puff of smoke and glitter.
‘Cough! Cough!’
My belly rumbles. God I hope they’re not too long up there prancing about on stage, I’m starving.
‘Right, let’s finish there,’ shouts Newman signaling to Bruno to stop. Everyone looks relieved, Vanessa the most.
Simon and Samantha Jane are chatting to Mr Anderton, probably asking for her hand in marriage. I’m not bothered anyway, she can have him I’ve already got our Cagney, I don’t need another doggie.
Now I’ve just got to wait for slow coach to take her own sweet time to get down off the stage before I get my dinner, she doesn’t look too happy.
Miss Newman catches up with Gemma.
‘Well done Gemma, that’s really coming along nicely, I’m loving the skirt swishing.’
‘Ta Miss!’
Gemma looks like the cat that got the cream egg.
Vanessa looks like she’s been slapped around the face with a wet kipper and she hates stinky fish.
I’ve decided it’s Shepherd’s Pie. My favorite, but it could be stew, which looks like puke but it still tastes alright though.
