Show report for Saturday February 27th
Report by Jason
SHOW ME YOUR TITS!!!
Yes, I realize that you're reading a document and not at the show, but I still encourage people reading this to flash your computer monitor. Especially if you're reading this at a library or a Barnes & Noble.
So Bastard Gras 2010 is in the books, and it was EPIC. First off, here's the lineup:
Frank: Madame Leah
Riff Raff: Nuggett
Dr. Scott: Mike
Transies: Bizah, Buttons, Chris, Fish, Gussie, Jon, Lyndi, Marc, Megaaaan, Napoleon, Paul, Pete, Wes, and Mideon
Tech/Grip/Props: Scott, Jery, Donna, Mike, Sean, Britt, Gussie, Wes, Marc, and Bizah
Floorwalkers: Jason, Jeremy, Cody, Charles, Sean, and Wes
Let's talk about beads. On their own, they don't seem like much. They're shiny, they're all different shapes, they're all different colors. But at Bastard Gras, they become the official currency of the First National Bank of Titties. We had a metric shit-ton of beads, and we gave pretty much all of them out. And in return, funbags occurred. The ladies had their breasts on display, and all they wanted in return was our beads. And they got them. And then we got them.
And then the show started.
We had no fewer than three girls dancing on the box before the show in nothing but pasties, for one thing. That kind of behavior is totally inappropriate...which means that it is totally encouraged. Do it more often, please. We had a ridiculous amount of people packed into that theater, so it took us a while to find seats for everybody...which meant looking at the dancing girls some more. Oh no, what a shame :P Mary and Britt took us through the rules (Rule Number One: Boobs = Beads), then Madame Leah came up to announce some announcements. Our annual free show at All-Con (www.all-con.org) is coming up on March 12th, so if you're reading this before then, come see us! If you're reading this after March 12th, then you missed a great show, sucka! We're also still recruiting for cast, so if you want to lease your soul to us (and especially if you're a lady...we need ladies), then come by and see us or email the Madame and we'll tell you how to become one of us).
Many virgins were sacrificed...which reminds me, bring us virgins! We like to initiate people into the Cult of Rocky! After they were broken in, Lyndi and I teamed up to inflict further emotional scars on four very special virgins in a little game called "Show Me Your Jugs". They each had an empty gallon jug, and they had to go through the audience and get it filled. They had a time limit though, they had until Sean finished stripping down to his elephant...ummm...weiner sock. *sigh* One virgin actually scored about a buck in change, in addition to a lot of other crap, so she won. One girl showed us her mammaries, so I won too. My prize? A boner.
With all of those hijinks out of the way, we decided to roll the movie and see what happened. For those Rocky purists who like to see the cast perform to the exact actions going on up in the screen...well, not a great week. Instead, we had a transie army of drunken revelers, including Gus with a massive bottle of Jager (possibly empty, I refuse to speculate). Brad was also crazy drunk, which was just fine with Janet, who got an early start on exploring her bi-curious side with all of the other barely-clad gals. Seriously, there was so much mostly naked girl on girl going on, my penis should be typing this report.
Any time the boy transies weren't on stage, they were swarming through the audience with beads, getting more girls to show off their snack trays. It was the best possible night to be a transie, and the worst to be a shirt. I think the transie shirts lasted about five minutes before being tossed aside...pants lasted a couple minutes longer. That's right...something for the ladies. Heh heh heh.
The transies couldn't search for gazongas all night though, because they had to get onstage for THE TIME WARP!!! Everybody loves to do the Time Warp, even if Charles was too drunk to properly teach the audience the dance. Its okay though, the directions are right there in the song, like the Hokey Pokey, or anything by the Black Eyed Peas. Then Madame Leah made her way out as Frank, all Mardi Gras'd out and looking fierce. Not drag queen fierce either, regular people fierce. Okay, and she was drag queen fierce too. Everyone's T was Sweet by the end of it, and then more stripping, this time on stage! And also in the audience too. Then Leah did some science and made a skeleton! Okay, it was Britt as Baron Samedi (I probably only know that from cartoons too), and he ran and ran and ran. He ran so far awayyyyy.
Uh oh, here comes Cody on a motorcycle. That's a DUI right there. Him and Columbia (whose jubblies kept mysteriously kept falling out of her top all night) did some fancy dancing, then he chased drunken Transies around the theater. I'm surprised anyone could flee in a straight line by this point.
With the Transies done with onstage business, they were free to continue to trade beads for nudity (and did so...often), but there was some hot bedroom action to be had. Leah and Ashley were able to have a little privacy (although silhouettes make for some good imagination fuel), but when it came time for Danny's turn, he and Sean ambushed poor poor Madame Leah and turned her head into the middle of a testicle sandwich. And that's the one kind of sandwich that she would not enjoy. Megaaaan came to the rescue though (and likely, came), and all was mostly well. Nothing a long shower can't fix, anyway.
But no time for showers, because it was time for some Ashley on Britt action, with a side order of boobs. Over on the other side, Mary and Amy planted the seeds for an eventual girl pile...which was awesome. Then Dr. Scott came down from FEMA (yep, still milking the Katrina jokes) to kill everyone's buzz, so they decided to have a little dinner. Mmm...dinner. That reminds me, I haven't eaten since post-show breakfast. Damn you food, always turning into poop and escaping!
Dinner scene was obscured by the roving gangs of near-feral Transies, their hunger for bare baby feeders not yet sated. I did see Frank and Janet getting frisky, but damned if I was going to fight my way up there for a better view. See, you get to the show early, you can get up front where the action's at. And by "Action", I mean "Rubbing up on each other with their lady business". Hot. Everybody ran around a little more (havin to weave around sex-crazed Transies like a combination of Mad Max and a slalom course), then they all ducked backstage to change. To distract the crowd, Charles was supposed to drop some knowledge on us, but he was blitzed out of his mind, so we just had an inanimate object standing in for him. So it was Britt, Danny, Ashley, and Amy up to do a little floor show for us, followed by Madame Leah (I almost spelled that as "Edamame Leah"...I'm hungry) to talk about going home. We didn't go home though, cause Nuggett and Mary (in a box with something written on it that I couldn't read) came down to shoot the place up like it was the Source awards.
Hold on, Team USA just scored to tie up the gold medal hockey game, and I need to jump around like the sports monkey I am for a minute.
Okay, better now. So where were we? Nestled against the warm comforting bosom of a stranger, most likely. Also, the show was about to end. Ashley's boobs took one more chance to escape, and then we introduced the cast, took a bow, and fled outside to smoke/leave/look at more tits in better light.
All in all, it was an amazing show, and it was due to our amazing audience. You are the real heroes (well, except you. You know who you are. Jerk), and your energy (and money) make us better onstage. Keep the fun going; come back next week, and every week, bring your friends, bring your co-workers, bring your grandma. Kidnap a stranger, stuff an ether-soaked rag in their mouth, and bring them to us in the trunk of your car. Spend all week looking for the perfect slutty outfit to wear to our show. Get there early and have a snack and a beer (or nine) before the show. Co-sign on our car loans. Teach us the ancient art of ninjutsu. Be our Facebook friends (www.facebook.com/losbastardoscast). Don't send us Farmville stuff, please. Seriously. WE LOVE YOU AUDIENCE!!!