A little while ago, Mumpty wrote some fictional stories on a few of her favourite Auckland burlesquers. And this Friday night, she’s done a wee update. Do enjoy …
Remember that saying:
Always be you …
unless you can be a fierce, intergalactic alien queen.
Then, always be a fierce, intergalactic alien queen.
No? Seriously? Well, it was inspired by Duchess deBerry, known simply to her nearest and dearest as The Duchess.
The Duchess had always been interested in space travel and so when her dear friend Sir Richard Branson (who rather fancied her) offered her the opportunity to accompany him on one of the first Virgin Airways trips to the moon, she jumped at the chance. What antipodean temptress wouldn’t really?
Soon after the initial excitement had died down though, The Duchess’s mind turned to more practical matters – what would she wear on the moon? She had no intention of wearing one of those ridiculous Michelin suits that’s for sure, but her current wardrobe didn’t inspire either. As always though, The Duchess had a plan, and that plan involved her illustrious pals at Asphyxia Couture and a brief to put together a little something something for her soiree on the moon.
She rather liked what they came up with – it was certainly a statement piece, but practical too she thought. Her hands were free and she had plenty of things to tie moon rocks and that kind of thing onto. Sure, she could have done with a handbag, and it might get a bit chilly, but she wasn’t going to be outside on the moon for long periods of time was she? She assumed she’d be able to pop in and out of the space shuttle at will – I mean even though she wasn’t paying for it, this was a commercial flight, and surely Sir Richard wouldn’t allow a passenger to get cold on the moon? That would be ridiculous.
No, this little number was perfect and The Duchess shivered with delight as she settled down happily into the seat beside Sir Richard, gratefully accepting the glass of Cristal he handed her. #suchfun
Lilly Loca: disrupted
Lilly Loca, as we know, is a time traveller. Just last year in fact, she travelled from 1920’s New York to 2016 in Auckland, where she spends a great deal of time pirouetting seductively on stages around that fair city wearing the showgirl’s version of an itsty-bitsy-teeny-weeny-yellow-polka-dot-bikini and a purple-hued “do” Ru Paul would be proud to own. But that isn’t enough for Lilly’s outrageous soul, so in an age where “disruption” is a buzz word in business circles, Lilly has decided to try a bit of disruption herself, and thus Gary Krumbert has emerged onto the scene.
When I say Gary has emerged onto the scene, I mean more that he has BURST onto the scene and not in a glamorous, overnight-sensation kind of way; but in a more clumsy, goofy kind of way. Because that’s the kind of guy Gary is; he’s a goofy drag king, born of the always glamorous, and sometimes androgynous, Lilly Loca. He’s been around a while, but more recently has begun to make his presence known.
One might be forgiven for assuming Gary is the quieter side of the Loca/Krumbert duo, and indeed he does tend to fly under the radar a bit. I think his slightly nerdy persona engenders a level of trust in people that allows him to get under their skin without them really even knowing it.
For Gary is most certainly not the quieter side of the duo. Recently a naive judge referred to him as the “Veteran Virgin King” – well, let me tell you, nothing could be further from the truth. Gary, in fact, is quite inspired by that raunchy, ginger-bearded Tudor King of old, King Henry the VIIIth. So much so, in fact, that he has a set of silk stockings and a hat set with a feather on a jaunty angle that he brings out on certain occasions, and it really does drive the ladies quite mad with lust; as you can imagine I’m sure.
So this one time, at Drag Camp, Gary did something quite naughty – even for Gary. He TOOK Lilly Loca’s rainbow-hued “do” and used it onstage as a “costume piece” shall we say. To make the situation much, much worse, the costume piece was a merkin (uuuuuuuggghhhhhh – I know, right!) Lilly, as you can imagine, was LIVID when she recognised it from her front-row seat in the audience. She leapt out of her seat, scaled the stage and advanced upon Gary with a look in her eye that inspired sheer terror in his. Such terror, in fact, that he scuttled offstage at the speed of light with Lilly’s “do” flapping between his legs and Lilly in hot pursuit. The audience squirmed uncomfortably as a loud slap, a shrill squeal and a muffled thump could be heard backstage. A few more thumps and squeals occurred and a couple of audience members burst into titters of barely suppressed nervous laughter, before the EMCEE Felicity Frockaccino hastily took over and began to belt out a rather raucous version of “I will survive” in a trembling vibrato.
Rumour has it Gary was EXTREMELY lucky to get away with just a broken leg and he’s currently overseas on an extended vacay while his poor, battered body recuperates. Reliable sources say he’ll be back when the heat dies down and Lilly has calmed her farm. #suchfun
Leda Petit: the rise and fall (and rise) of an assassin …
When last we left Leda Petit, she was doing well as a secret assassin, making money by the bushel and lurking in bars, drinking champagne out of shoes and fraternising alluringly with her marks before she made her final, lethal move.
But things have gone rather downhill since then …
Sadly, our Leda has become a little too fond of the high-rolling lifestyle she can now afford as a result of her prodigious “hit” rate. It’s a never-ending cycle of a whiskey here, a cigar there – a line of coke up her nose; “but never before lunchtime darling – I have standards.”
One particularly snipey member of the Auckland paparazzi could almost be excused for comparing Leda’s behaviour to that of Amy Winehouse at her worst. But really, that would be unfair – as she says, Leda has standards, and she would NEVER go on stage and deliver a less than stellar performance like Amy did on the odd occasion.
Yes, while these days Leda is having a lot more fun than your average punter, she is also getting the job done. I mean really, when you think about it, she’s living a glamorous Old Hollywood lifestyle that rivals that of Frank Sinatra and his cronies. Of course, she’s doing it Her Way (do you see what I did there?) and I have it on good authority that despite the heavy nights and the early morning stumbles home to her apartment, Leda can be relied upon to be bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to mingle come midnight when the “respectable” bars open and Leda’s marks await. Why look …
See what I mean? She really is a consummate professional, our Leda. #suchfun
Yours in updated curious creatures …