Tab meets: Cirque De L’Extraordinaire

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a band of strapping young men with perfectly coiffed hair. I can’t believe it, this is it, the group I’ve been longing to see in person for so long. They are tailed by a homogenous swarm of teenage girls in black leather jackets and jeggings.

As One Direction move on, I see the cast of Cirque entering Starbucks: Jordan, Theo, Sam and Guy. They are dishevelled, and all four hold hands forlornly, a vapid paper chain.

“Morning, Andy”, they cry out in unison to the barista.

“Morning Stewarts” the barista calls back, hurling an egg at Theo’s procumbent face. It transpires that Guy, Theo, Jordan and Sam are stage names, and the cast of Cirque are all in fact called Stewart. 

Sam, Jordan and Theo order a cup of tap water, iced, lemoned. Guy orders an empty mug. As we sit down on an array of beige poofs, he cackles maniacally into the vacant vessel. Jordan leans in and whispers in my ear, ‘he’s filling it with his hopes and dreams’. They all leer at me. I decide to begin the interview.

Archie: Your previous show was called Pelican, last term at Corpus Playroom. Did that have anything to do with the enormous expandable gullet that Guy is semi-successfully hiding under that beard?

Sam: No, that was purely coincidental, although we would like to assure readers that he is seeking medical advice on the issue; if anyone has any, please do write in or comment below. We actually chose the name Pelican because it’s an anagram of “a pencil”.

Jordan pulls out a pencil and snaps it in two. Theo’s back instantly breaks. Guy leans in and whispers ‘voodoo magic’ into my ear, before kissing my nape.

Archie: What can we expect from your new show?

Guy: It’s a mind-blowing sketch-circus extravaganza. Trapeze artists, elephants, dancers, even a bearded lady.

Theo: Guy is a fierce advocate of realism, it was really good of him to agree to letting us carry out the sex change.

Guy winces; Jordan laughs once, aggressively; Sam quietly vomits into a shoe.

Archie: Jordan, we just wanted to say you’re looking really great after the breast reduction. Has your string of kickboxing husbands helped you move on after divorcing Peter?

Jordan: My husbands have helped me move on emotionally, and the breast reduction has helped me move spatially.

Archie: Scholars maintain that you are all too suspiciously Aryan to be involved in comedy. Is Cirque merely a front for master race promotion?

Guy: What isn’t these days?

We all laugh, but the laugh is uncomfortable, like when someone spits food onto your elbow.

Archie: Is it true that you’ve propped up all your respective mattresses in one room at Fitz and have set up a £2 toll booth for anyone who wishes to enter the sexy love den?

Theo: Archie, you know first hand that it’s true.

I blush. Jordan takes offence and punches my genitals. I later learnt that he has his genetic origins in a culture in which blushing is the equivalent to asking someone for a genital punch.

Archie: It’s rumoured that Cirque is going to contain full-frontal nudity. Do you get competitive about the size of your respective sausages? And after breakfast, do you compare your penises?

Sam: There is a lot of nudity in the show. Comparing penises after breakfast is for knobs; we always do it before. We do it everyday, but the results are always the same. Sausage competition has put a big strain on group dynamics.

The troupe of youths at this point removes all clothing and begins passionately kissing, in some sort of decadent hedonistic ritual. I close my notepad and join in. All eyes on me, in the centre of the ring. Just like a circus.

Cirque De L’Extraordinaire is on at the ADC from Wed 4 – Sat 7 March at 11pm