The Truth about Goats
Emergency services have been called to a local wedding, where guests report suffering from dehydration, boredom and a nagging sense of déjà vu – while the Best Man lurches into his thirtieth hour of drunken anecdotes. For many attending, the warning sign should have been when the Paul Chestney, 27, brought out a ring-binder of text labelled ‘Part one of twelve’, a sleeping bag and a razor.
The Best Man had initially told the gathered family that he was ‘unaccustomed’ to public speaking, but as day three looms, many suspect that it was twin concepts of brevity and wit, that he was a stranger to. Armed with a power-point display, a series of ‘amusing’ props and far too much optimism, Mr. Chestney’s tortuous speech seemed purely designed to make Theresa May seem accomplished.
With rambling stories that would test the endurance of a room full of Sherpa, Mr. Chestney was clearly set on outlasting the marriage itself and Crystal Palace’s tenure in the Premiership. Even though one quip about the stag night and a Turkish prison, managed to simultaneously offend every demographic – without sparking one iota of interest – a feat only previously achieved by Jim Davidson.
Sadly the bride is yet to be mentioned, despite being stretched out on day two, due to exhaustion and an excess of canapes. Meanwhile theatrical critics have given mixed reviews, heralding it as a ‘bold piece of installation art, that will run and run’ to a ‘never-ending Brexit negotiation – without the laughs’.