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How a single Tweet become the show we all wanted to see.
What started as a simple tweet about how Emma Tompkins’ dad planned to put on a Christmas show for his granddaughter, Bonnie, quickly became the hottest show around, as publications up and down the country fought for the rights to the exclusive scoop on the show. Luckily we at ET always have our finger on the pulse and got in quick, tying Emma and her dad into a rock solid contract that meant no one else was getting this story!
Quickly things escalated, and a casting shot was provided. We were just amazed at some of the stars who had agreed to take part in this show, including the much sought after Gonzo the Gorilla. An insider informed us it had taken a lot of bananas to persuade him.
However, some people were clearly disappointed not to have made it past auditions. A few accusations of nepotism were whispered, but we really couldn’t comment on such a thing, not without a hefty legal battle at least!
It probably didn’t help these accusations when it was revealed that all ticket sales were being arranged by Bonnie herself. A lot of people were concerned they would find their way on to the black market or worse, be reserved for friends and family only!
At last the big night arrived: the excitement was high, and we were honoured to have nabbed the only press comp going, although further nepotism raised its ugly head as even that ticket somehow went to Emma!
But we still got this exclusive review of the performance, and we are now proud to share it with you.
Massive thanks to Emma and family for allowing us into this wonderful Christmas tale. We hope you enjoy it.
Rambo and the Lost Shorts
‘Twas the weekend before Christmas and all through the house,
Every soft toy was stirring, yes even Walter, the moose.
The suitcase was laid in front of a curtain,
For a play was to be made, the plot of which was uncertain.
The family was nestled all snug in their seats,
With visions of Rambo and chums dancing, nothing could compete.
And Bonnie’s grandad, with his maverick genius,
And I with my degree and 13 years of professional theatre experience
Did come up with it, in literal minutes, prior to the show.
With audience now settled, it was time to give this a go.
When out from the suitcase arose such a clatter,
Bonnie sprang from the sofa to see what was the matter.
Away from the cohesive dramaturgy, it flew like a flash,
We opened the suitcase lid after bringing up the sash.
The rabbit Rambo, of suitcase land, with new friends and best,
Gave talk of a midday idea for a quest.
His legs were long and shortless, he never knew why;
His fellows all clueless, as they took to the sky.
With little encouragement from so lively a bunch,
They knew to go in a moment; they all had a hunch.
More rapid than cultural recovery funds, his friends they came,
Rambo whistled, and shouted and called them by name:
Now STEGGY, now POLAR BEAR, now BABY BUNNY and KNITTED CLOWN,
on SQUIRI, on SOME SORT OF WEASEL, GRUMPY DOG, come on down!
“To the kitchen where the rabbits live” the friends did say,
“This suitcase can fly”: how convenient for a promenade play.
Through door frames that existed before the wild suitcase ride,
When they met with an obstacle, they did think on the fly.
So up to the kitchen table top, the coursers they flew,
With the suitcase full of toys, Bonnie along with them too.
Then, in a high chair, we heard a noise foreign,
And discovered the rabbits, burrowed deep in their warren.
As we drew near, the rabbits did make such a racket,
“We have no shorts for you Rambo but we do have a jacket.”
Rambo was dressed in gold sparkles, from his head to his navel.
Dressed with new jacket, the group danced on the table.
But shorts there were not, so the group flew upstairs,
Because rumour did have it, help would come from some bears.
The spare room! How neat it was, as Aunty Emma did clean*!
And the bears were all resting, suitably lit by the bedside lamp’s beam.
(*Her stuff, Bonnie’s mum and dad are very neat already)
As suitcase landed, Rambo did ask help from the bears.
No shorts they could speak of, but they did have some flares!
Last hope was of Kanga, for many years she did know
Old Rambo and friends. Thus to Bonnie’s parents’ bedroom we did go,
The pre-positioned bunny ears, held tight in the bed
Were immediately appropriated by Bonnie for her head.
So improvising quickly, we did change the plot
And decided Kanga’s purple scarf was a better choice of prop.
Rambo was now serving a look, slaying like no other,
But loss he still felt, so there was only one friend left to cover.
As wise as an oak and as sweet as vanilla,
Rambo knew he must visit Gonzo the Gorilla.
He spoke not a word, but went straight on his mission,
Friends all gathered up, and flew with precision.
Laying our hands on the suitcase, dad and I we did zoom.
Round the landing, past the pot plant, straight to Bonnie’s bedroom.
Rambo sprang to the seat, where Gonzo was waiting,
And spoke of his quest, his shorts and their fate (ing*).
(*Can’t all be zingers)
“My dear boy”, said the banana-holding, friendly old primate.
“Your shorts are long lost but there’s more to your life’s fate.
It doesn’t matter what you wear, as long as it makes you happy;
Now how about a dance, before this all gets too sappy.”
And with a click on a phone screen, the friends moved with no ‘owwies’
And all grooved to ‘Let’s Dance’, by the legend David Bowie.
The end
Thanks go to Emma Tompkins for sharing this wonderful tale with ET. For the film rights, please contact Emma directly.
