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Well, Tardwatch came into action on Friday, when I was able to experience the joys of visiting the tard school across the road from where I work firsthand.

We were alerted by a firedrill at about 10:30 in the morning, and made our way outside to stand aimlessly around on the front lawn of the building. Whilst enjoying the activity of doing fuck all, a woman approached myself and a few other people from the office, and introduced herself as chief wrangler from over the road. She said that the herd had a play that they had been practicing, and would we be as so good as to go and see it.

I was, naturally, delighted by the invitation.

It only occured to me once I was inside the tard school, that it was a somewhat unusual request, but then I was greeted by a truly marvellous sight: The tards were all on display, decked out in wonderful costumes consisting of nothing more than a few towels (used to mop up the slime no doubt, there were hundreds of the things around) draped over their hideous malformed heads. And there was not a single other norm, other than the wrangler and ourselves, anywhere to be seen.

Not even the breeders of the tards had bothered to show up. The wrangler explained that they were probably 'confused as to when the performance was'. No shit, if it was left up to the tards to inform thier providers about the matter. I believe though that the real reason was not a one of them was prepared to watch their tard-child gibbering on like an even greater sick mockery of humanity than they already had to endure. Tard school is not a place they want to come. Tard school is purely there to give the spawners a few hours freedom, to live once again as normal, happy, people. To think about that fateful night when one of them said, 'honey, let's not bother with the rubber tonight'.

It was also around this time that I thought that perhaps the wrangler had set up the whole fire drill thing, just to get some people, any people, to come and watch the freakshow. The wrangler informed us that this performance would be, "a unique take by the children on 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'". Unique being the key-word here. Let's just say it was performed, somewhat different to how the Bard would have forseen 21st century actors performing one of his plays.

Without a doubt it was the greatest performance I've ever sat through.

First out was Titania, described by Will as 'the greatest beauty'. This was a highly inspired casting choice by the wrangler. I imagine this she-beast which stood, shambling and dribbling in front of us, is the 'looker' of the school. The one all the tard boys salivate even greater over. She had a different look than the rest of them - more like tard by accident, like she was kicked in the head by a horse at a young age. She came out gracefully, only dragging one leg behind her, and stood looking at us all with the stupidest tard grin you ever did see on her face. Her buck teeth certainly showed off her eyes - so crossed were they that I wondered who the idiotic optomitrist was that issued her glasses in the first place, a pointless piece of aperatus on one whose eyes point perminately at the nose.

There the great beauty Titania stood, grinning inanely and completely silent. The sweat was running off her like nothing else. The stench was getting cought in the ceiling fan and blown over us all. It smelt exactly like Apple Sauce. No doubt this is the staple diet at the tard school. The Wrangler stood there trying to encourage Titania, giving her prompts, egging her on, grinning just as inanley as the tard-girl was. 'C'mon Lisa, you can do it!' she encouraged.

To no avail.

At the mention of those words, Lisa's face twisted into a more hiddeous mis-shapen feature than it was already, and tears flowed freely down her face. She wailed like a wounded animal, before covering her face in the towel and running off to the wings, where she was comforted by other tard-girls. A tard-boy thought this was extremely funny, and began to chortle, at this the other tards began to laugh, and Lisa cried even harder. One of her sisters in tardiness, with arms wrapped tightly around her, told the boys to 'fuck off', in an unexpected display of vulgarity.

The Wrangler rounded them up, and made the tard-boys apologise, at which point every tard had to hug every other tard. What I would have given to slip unseen into this circle of love, and experience tard love first hand. The place was awash with emotion - anger, sorrow, glee, all like Will intended. After a brief pause, the Wrangler asked us all to clap as Lisa had decided she would continue, and play Titania.

Next came on Oberon, I think it was he, for he had a stick tied to his head. It was certainly an imposing 'Lord of the Woods'. Obviously feeling superior to evry other tard, Oberon stood firm and proud. Well as firm and proud as a hunched back, bow legged tard with severe acne and a cleft pallete can look (it was this tard I recognized, as the one who liked to wank through his shorts on the short yellow bus).

He then began to dry-wretch.

This continued for some time, at which point, myself and a collegue got up and asked the wrangler if some medical attention shouldn't be given. She looked at us strangley, and asked why we would want to do such a thing. 'Because he's convulsing' my colleague informed her, to which a look of sheer and utter shock and hurt glassed over her eyes. 'He's NOT convulsing. He's ACTING.' She roared defiantly at us, and we returned to our seats, wiser for the fact that the display before us was in fact the tard trying to speak. Yet another inspired piece of casting.

The scene then cut to the players, Bottom, John et al deciding on who should play who in the play within the play, pyramis and thisbe. One of the characters of course, gets to play 'wall'. This was one badly designed wall, is all I can say, the creator had obviously not taken heed of the assembly manual. The scene then jumped again, to puck having put the spell on Bottom, making him an ass, but irresistable to Titania. Personally this was the part I was looking forward to the most. The love scene. How would this be depicted in a tard way?

Sadly, sadly, sadly, it wasn't.

Lisa broke into tears again before she came out, but even after all the hugging again, she refused to come back on. The Wrangler thanked us for coming, and asked if we enjoyed the performance. She deliberately ignored my colleague, obviously deciding he was an enemy of tard-dom.

'Lady, it was the greatest show of my life. How can I repay you?' I asked.

'Come back in a few weeks when we do 'Much Ado About Nothing.' She replied.

I told her my ticket was already booked. As I left I glanced behind me to see the wrangler in nearly tears of joy at what her herd had done. Truly this IS the most pointlessly humourous profession one can choose. Spending weeks rehearsing a bunch of tards, far better suited to the sideshows, to stumble and dribble, blunder and shamble through some of the finest words ever written in the englih tongue, and then, once the tards have outdone themsleves, even gone beyond normal tardiness in their butchery of a performance, you feel overwhelming joy.

I count down the days until Much ado.


credit given to original author if known

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