Britain's got Talent. But at what?

I do like an interesting life. Some of my previous incarnations have been a little dull, so it's nice that this one is getting extra mushrooms.

Today we went through our performance still with scripts in hand, although I didn't need mine for a lot of it as the parts of Standing Bloke and Running Rat are non-speaking roles. And it's a sweaty, noisy, funny experience all round. But meanwhile, back at the other ranch, the television executives at ITV had seen footage of my usual theatre on Youtube and had requested a filming session of us drama students doing our Lion King performance so they could do a piece on local stage schools as the intro to an episode of Britain's got Talent. This gives me a chance of appearing on TV 3 years in a row.

So slightly before our usual finish time, Bud picked Sydney and I up from the stage door and gave us a bag of fresh drinks and snacks to keep us hard workers full of energy. I said, have you got my blacks, which is not a Boer farmer comment, because in this case the black T-shirt and leggings we wear under our costumes are called blacks. He had not. Thus we had 14 minutes to get home, collect clothes, and get to the theatre before filming began. At home, he searched fruitlessly and said are you absolutely sure they're not in your bag, the bag you've had with you all day, the bag with your script and lunch in. Oh dear. We still made it to the theatre on time and we did the scene in which I played Second Drooling Hyena and it all went off OK. Plus, one of the girls gave me my Lion King script that I'd left behind and thought had been binned and lost forever. This memory thing runs in the family, apparently. Did I just say that? It's probably just chocolate deficiency.