The Bride of Jug-u-lar
I didn’t really know much about what to expect
this evening. All I knew was that the show was called, ‘Underground’.
As we drove up the scene was set perfectly. There stood Katriina,
dressed in long flowing robes in amongst a white frosted landscape.
There were a couple of other people too, who I guessed were additional
audience, and I recognised Chris, Katriina’s
brother who was also along as a spectator.
“Hi Katriina” we greeted, as we climbed out of
the van into the snowy scene.
“Who iz zis Katriina of vich you zpeak?” came back
the reply in a strong Transylvanian accent.
“Oh, it’s like that is it?”
She then proceeded to tell us that what we were
about to do was exceptionally dangerous, and ask us a series of
questions, along the lines of “do eni off you haf planz for ztomorrow?
…. Yez ? …. ..Oh ….. Vell you might vant to canzcel zem…”
This probably wasn’t helped by us passing back
comments along the lines of “heh, you’ve got a better idea what
we’re doing tomorrow than we have”, and “what are we doing for lunch?”
She ignored us admirably.
We were led down a long snowy path, down the side
of a river. Someone asked what river it was. “That is not a river”
Katrinna answered, so getting into the spirit of things I added
“It’s the tears of a thousand lost souls”. “Donet be zo zentimentaaal”
she instantly quipped back in perfect Transilvanian, leaving me
and Jonathan in stitches. For the rest of the walk there, not to
mention at every opportunity over the next week we could be heard
mimicking “donet be zo zentimentaaaaal”.
…and then, up ahead in the distance, between the
windblown flakes of candy floss snow (it was fluffy, not pink) there
was a billowing … presence. It must be said in the review for this
show that the weather really was putting in a fantastic performance.
It could have been merely my eyes playing tricks … it could have
been one of the aforementioned lost souls … of course if I wasn’t
being so zentimental it could have been a person dressed in white
running around in the snow waving a sheet, but I’m sticking with
zentimental for now …. As we drew closer, and could just about make
out the form … in an instant, it vanished into the hillside.
We fumbled through the snow to where the form had
vanished, and Katriina’s Transylvanian doppelganger once again warned
us of the horrific dangers that lay inside. Then the huge iron door
that led into the hillside was swung open and one by one, we were
There were stalactites hanging from the ceiling
and it was … Dark. Torches were produced (some of them even worked)
and we were led down a long tunnel into a series of rooms, where
…. ‘Things’ happened. Strange and twisted things. I’m not going
to give the complete game away, because heh, if you want to know
the show you should go and see it, but I do have to mention one
piece of it, because it ties in with something I mentioned earlier…
…It turns out that back in the day it was the habit
of the local inhabitants, when building buildings, to leave sacrifices
in the walls to appease the gods. What a god is going to with a
sacrifice in a wall, god only knows, but there you go. Apparently
the wailing we could now here were the wailings of a young virgin
who was left in the walls as a sacrifice some time ago, and she
was in need of some assistance to escape. “Was there a hero in the
room who could help her?” It all went quite …. Well, the wailing
continued, but there was a distinct lack of volunteers. I was at
the front of the room, and although having limited experience in
the virgin rescuing business, I decided I might apply for the job
(so many jokes, so little time). So there I am digging through holes
in the walls when I happen upon Gunita. I should have guessed that
the contortionist would be the one trussed up in the hole, so with
much effort because no one could say she was going to be easy, I
pulled, lifted and squeezed her back out to freedom.
“OK, now zat you haf rescue-ed her, zis meanz zat
she iz your vife”
My vife? Oh, my wife! …right ….fair enough I’m
thinking, I could do a lot worse,
“But zyou must virzt zeal ze marriage viz a kizz”.
Again, I don’t see any problem with this, and puckering
up, the deal was done. My days as a bachelor are put to one side
for the simple pleasures of matrimony.
“and zen you must leave anozer virgin to replaze
……oh that was more of a problem ….. that
was more of a problem …
“Jonathan, get in the hole!”
I didn’t need to tell them he had offspring back
in the UK.
And that’s how I managed to acquire my Latvian
Bride. I’m not sure it would pass in the strictly legal sense, but
I must say that personally I have always been fonder of the less