The box was almost traditional. Just tall enough. Curtain in front, small stage. Just enough room for the show.
The colors were a little strange, and the show was not traditional at all.
Mr. Punch did take the center stage, as is his right.
But his performance was clumsy. I stayed for several shows, and it seemed to be clumsier as time went on.
It was almost as if Punch was battling something other than Judy.
Judy herself seemed to be missing, at least she was never seen on stage. At one point I thought I heard her voice in the distance. But the other noises off were pretty loud and I might well have been imagining things.
Maybe Judy has been on a bender?
Her speech seemed a touch slurred. And there have been rumors of extra beer going missing. The dumb-waiter would start up with a full keg, and arrive with a half. That sort of thing.
Of course, half a keg would be an awful lot for Judy to drink alone.
Or possibly someone is trying to poison her. Punch would be the first suspect, of course. The husband always is in a domestic. And it is not exactly like they have been quiet about their unhappy relationship. She used to beat him nightly with a fish, on stage, with an audience, for instance.
Or perhaps this lying frog has been feeding me too many stories. He really ought to be sent back to spend time with the crocodile, but when he’s not obviously lying, he’s pretty funny.
Ouch. That’s gonna leave a mark.