2 Whole Hours of Fightin', and Bitin', and Pushin' and Head-Buttin'...

...and not a single lad, lass or pirate were harmed.

Surprise! Tis I, Jemmy Rathbone, 'ere again to inform all ye puss oozing, theivin' mongrels just what 'appened at this evenin's rehearsal.
The evenin' started with a good...start. The sun twas shinin' and no rain was fallin' down on us (like it has every other night for the past 2 weeks!). Everythin' was "peachy" aboard the Hispaniola and all the nasty filth known as pirates aboard were all but mindin' their own business, that is, until the sword-shieldin' boatswain who answers to the name of "Brock", did take the evenin's activities into his own hands.
It twere every man for himself then.
Afore I knows what's happend, the entire crew has turned their backs against me, ME I say! They approached me swift as hungry felines comin' in for the kill. They were all shieldin' knives in their mouths and holdin' pistols in their hands - pointed in MY direction! I didn't know what I was supposed to do OR what I did to make all me best mates turn against me in a mere moment with enough hate to sink a whole fleet.
I have the queerest feelin' that I've been set-up! But by who?...I think the univarse is tellin' me that I ain't to be findin' out just what has got these powder monkies' knickers in knots until opening night: February 3, 2012 at the Palace Theatre.
Be there to support yer fellow mate, me Jemmy Rathbone, and the rest o' them scurvey dogs upon the great spanish ship - the Hispaniola!

Stage Fightin' - It's a Shrew'd Business

Arr maties! Tis I again, Jemmy Rathbone, here to tell ye all 'bout the happenins and goin ons at the Palace Theatre jurin last night's combat workshop.  Never before did mine eyes see such a sight as they did lay 'pon last eve.

I was surrounded by nasty, dirty, snarlin' pirates both men and women alike-fallin' to the cold, dirty and dusty floor beneath them like maggots.  To any onlooker that should'st peak there noses into Procunier Hall last evenin', would have discovered a sight which would have appeared to look like an epic swordfight and perhaps, at times, a mass suicide. Bodies fallin' to the ground in every which way direction, swords were drawn and shots were fired!  It were a magical sight seein so many bodies sprawled all over the place like feta cheese on a nice Greek salad. What...pirates go on diets too ya know!

I did get meeself acquainted with the fair and lovely Reverend's Wife and Ms. Hawkins - though I fancy mine women to'have a few teeth missin' meeself.  I also did have such luck as to fight a few of the greatest pirates who e're did walk the face of this earth!: Cap'n Flint, Black Dog, Calico Jack, George Merry, Israel Hands and Long John Silver hi'self!

The fella in charge of last eve's fightin' and brawlin' and the man entirely responsible for all the sword sheildin', punch throwin', face slappin' and guns a blazin' was the mighty Brock Brockenshire! If ye want to learn how to fight like a REAL man, give him a call or check out his website & company called Shrew'd Business. If he can't put yer men in place, no one e're shall.

The next set date for pirate meetin' at the Palace be this Sunday - stay tuned!

Don't miss Ken Ludwig's Treasure Island coming to the Palace Theatre in London, Ontario February, 2012!

"There was a young lad on the sea - THE SEA!" by th'name Jim Hawkins

Tis I again, Jemmy Rathbone 'ere to inform you swashbucklers of the night passed...
A cold brisk eve it twere last night at the Palace where o' such sea filth did meet.
Read'ist we we did from the script "Treasure Island by the infamous scoundrel himself, Ken Ludwig.
We did'ist encounter the wick'd Black Dog who came'st all the way a long journey from Spain 'cross the sea.
Actually a close friend o' me own.
Both the wretch'd Squire Trelawney and the smooth-talkin' Doctor Livesey were present and the words which came'st from their mouths did sound so heavenly that I wanted to strangle 'em both silly with their own tongues.
The cleverest George Merry did'st get under the fingernails of the cap'n momentarily but once he was promised a spot 'mongst Silver's most prized collection o' heads -  he did'st shut his trap.
We also come 'cross a strange, stringy man with a beard o' white as snow and he did'st make the strangest requests o' the young Jim Hawkins...
The Captain Flint, mine hero and role model, doth inform me that we are soon to be in the possession of a treasure more brilliant than that e're imagined by man.
Next week, the common heresay 'round these parts be on Thursday - we be trainin' o' the ways o' the pistols and swords. Once complete, we shall'st be prepared to face any man or beast, armed to the teeth and ready to fight on rockin' boats, rope ladders, taverns and even in the middle o' a jungle riddled with snakes and the Lord knows what else.
Ne'er a man shall get in mine way of that glorious treasure awaitin' me and me mates 'pon Treasure Island!