Queenzilla Strikes Again!

What happens when you mix six highly developed egos, filthy costumes, stockings and a few strains of body odour that could qualify as a neurotoxin? Then, what if you squeeze all of this into dressing room smaller than 3 metres square with no ventilation? Not my idea of a good time. I woke up this morning with a swollen throat, achy body and a few other issues that I really didn’t want to have to deal with. So, by the time I got to interval in the show tonight I was desperately trying to keep my inner volcano down to a dull roar. I usually have a temperament that can be compared to that of a care bear, but tonight I was feeling more like one of their man-eating grisly cousins. I bit my tongue down really hard but eventually the persistent little fucker slipped out and promptly caused me to bite at least one persons head off. It felt AMAZING! I don’t feel any guilt or remorse. I’m only human! I pride myself on being a very considerate and sensitive person generally, but tonight my tolerance for suffering fools was similar to my lactose tolerance. Nil. My inner acid-bitch-queen came out and it wanted blood. I am happy to say that I wasn’t too cruel nor did I really cause any permanent damage but I did make it very clear that I was not to be taken for a chop. There is something deeply gratifying about telling someone where to get off whilst dressed in fishnets, heels and a fully loaded hunchback. I have had a lovely warm bath and am planning on severely sedating myself on corenza C in a little while. I hope this will restore me to my natural fluffy pastel coloured state of being. If not, I am still comforted by the fact that I will at least have a few previously “challenging” individuals walking on eggshells within the cramped 3 meters we will once again be sharing tomorrow night, for fear of lightning striking in the same place again. Tonight I embrace my shadow aspect. Mwah ah ah!