Victoria University College. Extravaganza. "The Seven Year Switch." June 4 - 9, 1956.
____Those Concerned
____Those Concerned
Wardrobe Mistress: | Props Manager: |
Noeline Johnstone | Bill Harrison |
assisted by | assisted by |
Gaynor James | Ted Graham |
Wendy Jeune | Des Slow |
Patsy Lawson | Max Donnellan |
Shirley James | Murray Humphries |
Ann Darrell | |
Elena Welch | John Allen |
Valerie Judd | Norman Major |
Fanny Again!
Fanny—
I've come across the ocean
To play female lead for you
I've played for Leo time and time again.
I've heard a lot of stories and I reckon that they're true
About New Zealand's hordes of surplus men.
I reckon I can teach them quite a lot
About the assets that a girl has got . . .
I'm Fanny from the wild wild West
Men say I'm nice but I'm not.
For at a dance or far fetched fest
I show them all that I have got.
When a feller tries to cuddle me
Convention say I give his face a slap!
But when his moustache tickles me
I somehow sorta wanta tickle back!
Some guys have whispered lets get wed,
Let's buy a ring and a bed,
But when my appetite's fed
I shoot the poor critter dead
I can't say no!
Just an Old Suspectitute
Sid-
New Zealand's youth they often say is always on the spree
The finger of suspicion points at me
Juvenile delinquency, immoral she and he,
The finger of suspicion points at me
But as soon as they can make the guilty ones confess
I know exactly what I'm gonna be—
I'll become the kind old man and hold them on my knees
And subtly set their inhibition free.
And subtly set their inhibition free.
Sid and Chorus—
I'll sell myself for Business but only for a fee
The finger of supicion points at me.
They say I'll do my level best to stifle industry
The finger of suspicion points at me.
But as soon as they can make the profit ones confess
I'll tell you what I'm going to do
I'll open up a boom, conceal it with a slump
And private enterprise, I'll set it free-ee-ee
And private enterprise, I'll set it free.
It's all so too, too, too
Crooks—
5 Arty-crafty artists, arty-crafty artists, arty as can be
We waste our time on the wherefores and whys of it,
We like art and that's about the size of it,
People say that art demoralises use, lead us to a life of shame,
Learned critics try to criticise us, psycho-analyse us,
Darlings what a game! They don't know Coward taught us
So their quips distraught us
Hurt us through and through.
When they say "go low brow,"
We have got the know-how.
We are artists true.
The Cast
(in order of appearance from one end to the next.)
Mac | John Archibald |
Bod One | Lawrence Atkinson |
Bod Two | Paul Canham |
Sheriff Arnett | Ted Woodfield |
Big foot | Davy Crookett |
Wife the First | Janet Court |
Bartender | Lawrence Atkinson |
Sid | Dennis Brown again |
Voice Behind | Tony Shelley |
Holybug | Graeme Eton |
Mabel | Wendy Barret |
Messenger | John Fowler |
Fanny | Rosemary Lovegrove |
Gaylord Owen | Des Deacon |
Sally, or Wife the Second | Sylvienne Cockburn |
Georgie Peorgie | Ted Schroder |
Bulganin | Tony Ferrers |
Kruschev | Ron Polson |
Mountaineer | Bryce Evans |
Director | Michael Nicolaidi |
Elia | John Archibald |
Joe | John Gamby |
Joseph L. | John Dawick |
Ngaio Drongo | Carole Charles |
Mayor | Terry Corbet |
Cameraman | Terry Shelley |
Clapper Boy | Lawrence Atkinson |
Hospital Entertainers | Derek Homewood & Tony Ferrers |
Doctor | Paul Canham |
Assistant Doctor | John Archibald |
Bedstead | Chris Austin |
Councillors | Russel Bell, Tom Steiner, Byron Callingham, John Fowler |
Gagged Doctor | John Gamby |
Announcer | Lawrence Atkinson |
Lecturer | John Dawick |
Sir Clifton Wubb | John Archibald |
Announcer, U.S.A. | Ron Poison |
Workmen | see Councillors, believe it or not |
Farmer and Girl | Heather Scott and Michael Nicolaidi |
Students | Diana Spurdle, Patsy Lawson, Terry Corbett and Elliot Henderson |
Learnin' to Booze
Kruschev—
You drink your first vodka,
You down your first whisky
Your mind starts to wander
And feel kind of frisky
When drink touches your lips
Whatever you choose
You've had your first lesson
In learnin' to booze.
Six dry martinis
With gin squash to follow
You start to enjoy it
You feel yourself wallow,
You're under the table
Making love with your shoes
You don't need a lesson
In learnin' to booze.
You see a pink object
You legs start to quiver
Your mind starts to boggle
Your bones start to shiver
You've got the dry horrors
Your stomach feels blue.
You've had your last lesson
In learnin' to booze.
Chorus—
You're feeling good just like you should
Because quite suddenly you find,
That when you're drunk as any skunk
You leave those deadly blues behind.
Little-Things-Mean-A-Lott-Ery
Sheriff Arnett
Give them relief from sales tax demands, give them Chryslers and large yachts.
Give them all the cash that they want
Little things mean a lot
Give them free beer and licence all pubs, close them at 10 on the dot
Give them your arm when they start to sway
Little things mean a lot.
You'll have to give pens'ners some more, wharfies miners and such,
They never cared much for drudgery and work
But constantly Sidney, they must have money
Give them compo for the kids they've got
Ten bob a week to rely on,
But if they lack the large offspring, give them
your mattress to try on.
Send them a cheque for a hundred pounds to show them you haven't forgot.
For voteship forever, pamper forever,
Little things mean a lot.
Sid's Big Night
Sheriff and Elia—
It was Walter Nash versus Sydney Hol, in the springtime of '54
There was lots of speculation at the poll, whether Syd would be out the door;
But the Labour Party did not have much hope, they were ready to say goodbye,
And while poor old Walter handed out soft soap, he could hear the people cry;
Chorus—
C'mon Syd,
C'mon Syd,
We've voted for you with all our might;
C'mon Syd,
C'mon Syd,
And thanks to all those voters it was Syd's big night.
Now Social Credit had a lot of nerve, with a stander in every spot;
They got a lot more votes than they did deserve, but elected they were not.
Walter made a final desperate bid, to have all the vote slips mixed
But a far more cunning move was made by Sid— he had all the boundaries fixed.
C'mon Syd,
C'mon Syd,
They voted for him with all their might;
C'mon Syd,
C'mon Syd,
And thanks to all those voters it was Syd's big night.
End of Act One