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Monday, December 17, 2018
Thursday, June 14, 2018
Dear Diary by Skylar Truman
Come meet Skylar Truman
and all the survivors of the Robot Wars at
Wow Wee 2! Adventures of a Little Girl Killbot
and all the survivors of the Robot Wars at
Wow Wee 2! Adventures of a Little Girl Killbot
SATURDAY, June 16, 2018 @ 7:00pm
SUNDAY, June 17, 2018 @ 8:45pm
25A Forest Ave, Portland, ME 04104
The Producers Club
FRIDAYS & SATURDAYS June 22, 23, 29 & 30,
8:00pm, Tickets $15
358 West 44th Street
New York, NY 10036
Friday, May 25, 2018
Meet Layla Lowe Wilcox - Heiress, Modern Woman, Femme Fatale
Layla Lowe Wilcox is wealthy, fearlessly independent, and wildly
misunderstood. A columnist for the LA Herald, she writes under a pen name,
so no one is the wiser. Layla Lowe earns ger living, but most people believe she's never
lifted a dainty, well-manicured finger in her life. The truth
is, between what her father and her ex-husband left Layla in their will, she's got enough cush (money) to fall back on for ten life times.
As a child, Layla Lowe got a taste of the gangtails (horseraces). She and her pals would put on their glad rags (fancy clothes) every Saturday and go to the
gangtails (horseraces) and then to the casino on Sunday. You can still find Layla there every weekend. Around the tracks, she's known as “Lady Luck,” cause she never could bet on a losing horse.
Even when Layla was married to Herbert Wilcox, she enjoyed a certain independence. Herbert was a shyster (lawyer) worked long hours, never cared
too much about her comings and goings. They got along swell. Until one night, not
so long ago, Layla found him in his study with a shiv in his back. Police still
haven’t figured out who killed him. They figure it was some droppers (hired
killers) with a grudge, repaying her husband for a three spot (three years in
jail) their boss was doing in the slammer.
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| Layla Lowe Wilcox at the "Gangtails" with local jockey. |
Two weeks later, the croaker (doctor) declared Layla's father dead after a couple of troubled boys (gangsters) robbed the rattler (train) he
was on and put the screws on (questioned him) him about where he hiding his
scratch (money) and ice (diamonds). Cornelius Lowe was a proud, self-made man, a little too proud, if you ask just about anyone. He wouldn’t
talk and it landed him in the back of the meat wagon (ambulance). Now Layla Lowe Wilcox is alone, and on the hunt for her next husband. She says she won’t be too quick to jump into
anything though; she enjoys her freedom too much.
Come meet all the Dames, Dicks and Gangsters at...
IRTE NOIR
Friday and Saturday nights at 8 p.m.
May 18 & 19, June 1 & 2
The Producer’s Club
358 W 44th St, New York, NY
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Meet Jane Doe, Intrepid, Unrelenting Girl Reporter
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| Newshawk Jane Doe |
Jane Doe is an intrepid, unrelenting REPORTER - a fact seeker, GUNNING for stories at all times. Everyone's business is HER business. She has been on the staff of the local newspaper The Town Tattler ever since a "major publishing house" failed to take notice of her debut literary fiction because, as they said, she was a GIRL.
It was a sweeping tale of intrigue, an opus of delight. A tad bitter over that rejection but emboldened enough to not care, Jane sought refuge in the FACTS, WORDS, the language of the TRUTH. Sure, by writing her novel she bared her weary soul, committing acts of literary grace with lyrical and haunting metaphors. But what did the editors of publishing houses really know of talent?
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| "A DAME wrote this?!" marvels local newsie Rusty Nail |
She'll show them. Maybe with a PULITZER!
She lives alone with a Murphy Bed and two raggedy stuffed toys, from her childhood Muffin and Teddy. It was a solitary time growing up, the only child of a mother who was often institutionalized for various ills and, a father who went out for cigarettes one night and never came back.
 |
| Bitter "Career Gal" |
Miss Doe has never married but was engaged once for a very brief time. The groom to be was the son of the local newspaper editor-in-chief. Realizing she had dreams of success she threw the fiance over for a job offer from his father to be the paper's first female cub reporter.
A REPORTER!
Come meet all the Dames, Dicks and Gangsters at...
IRTE NOIR
Friday and Saturday nights at 8 p.m.
May 18 & 19, June 1 & 2
The Producer’s Club
358 W 44th St, New York, NY
Monday, May 14, 2018
Meet Norah Diamond, Washed-Up Never-Was
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| Norah Diamond and "Associates" at Tym's Place |
Norah Diamond was born Eunice Elvira Bloch on March 27, 1899 in
Newark, NJ. Her parents were Martha and Harry Bloch. Harry was an army private
stationed at Fort Dix. When she was six, the Bloch family moved to Fort Lee, NJ.
One day, as a
very young child, Norah wandered on to the set of "Rescued from Eagles"
starring DW Griffith. Looking predatory and starved, she was naturally cast as an
extra, "chick #5." Pretty soon, due to very loose child labor laws, Norah dropped out of school and was under contract with Champion Film Company, making
as many as nine films a day. In 1918, with many important bit roles under her belt (Urchin #3 in "The Perils of Pauline," the consumptive friend of
the "Littlest Key Stone Cop," Pretty Pauper #2 in "Robin
Hood"), she made her move to Hollywood. First though, the future Mrs. Diamond had a husband to get
rid of. When she was 16, Norah Diamond met and married Marvin Diamante, a film cutter with
the Edison Company. Horrified, Norah's parents had that marriage quietly annulled. The union produced one
child, Tiffany Diamante, who was later "donated" to the Edison Company
in a basket left outside the casting office.
 |
| "Rescued From Eagles" (1905) |
Martha Bloch vowed to chaperone her daughter to her new Hollywood life. By
this time, Martha was a widow, Harry having died of tetanus during WWI. (He stepped on a nail while getting off the boat in Calais.) Unfortunately, Mrs. Bloch never made it to Hollywood. Having never had a formal education,
herself, she got on a boat that she thought was headed to California - she did
not have a strong grasp of geography - and was never heard from again.
Miss Diamond, however, took the train cross country. While on the train, she met, married and divorced fellow would-be actor Walter Alehouse. He would be
the second of her 7 1/2 husbands. The 1/2 was due to having accidentally married
actress Norma Shearer in the Divorcee (1930) when she was a lighting stand-in for
Robert Montgomery during a wedding scene that used an actual priest. The scene
was eventually cut from the film.
While in Hollywood, Norah Diamond continued her torrid pace of constantly
being cast in largely unsuccessful, overlooked or just cheap rip offs of more
successful Hollywood films, including "The Pullman Broad" (1919),
"The Shifty Beard" (1920), and "You Should Change your Husband's
Pants" (1925). By the middle of the 1920s, Norah Diamond was the most averagely paid
"lead actress" in films no one ever cared to see. In the 1930s when
the sound revolution hit, no one wondered if she'd adapt.
 |
| Norah and "wife" Norma Shearer |
Slowly, as the bit roles died out, Norah was left earning money as a
stunt double (despite a clear lack of any formal training whatsoever) for Sonja Henie (she couldn't skate) and Norma Shearer (her former husband) - Very few people to this day
remember that early Norma Shearer films featured lengthy and vicious fight
sequences. (Irving Thalberg demanded it). However, many of these sequences were
to be later left on the cutting room floor..
During the fall of 1942, in a fit of desperation, Norah Diamond got very
drunk at a party she crashed at the Chateau Marmont and ended up married the next
morning to Louis Costello, the half brother of mobster Frank Costello - not, as she had mistakenly thought, half of the comedy duo Abbot and Costello. The poor
sap, however, was deeply in love with her and bought Norah her first car (the 1941
Cadillac Convertible she currently still drives) and a house in the Hills. Sadly, Louis committed suicide by shooting himself in the back nine times outside the
Flamingo Resort in Las Vegas. With the money he left her (and the ties to
certain associates), Norah Diamond bought in to Tym's Place, becoming a "not so
silent" partner.
Come meet all the Dames, Dicks and Gangsters at...
IRTE NOIR
IRTE NOIR
Friday and Saturday nights at 8 p.m.
May 18 & 19, June 1 & 2
The Producer’s Club
358 W 44th St, New York, NY
Friday, May 11, 2018
Notorious Goon Fitted for "Chicago Overcoat"
By Izzy Church
Late last night, there was a
disturbance down at the docks and the notorious gangster, Gil Weeze was found
dead. Now everyone is a suspect. Who
could it be? Read all about it!
Perhaps, it’s the newspaper
boy, Rusty Nail? He looks sweet and innocent, but perhaps there is a much
darker side to this paperboy that we’ve yet to discover?
 |
| Best Dick on the Case: Detective Philip Cannon |
The story will unfold differently every night, with a different murder, so be prepared for foolhardiness as Detective Philip Cannon presses his suspects for information about the mysterious death(s) in this not so sleepy town.
You don’t want to miss IRTE Noir! Directed by Curtis Dixon.
Come meet all the Dames, Dicks and Gangsters at...
IRTE NOIR
Friday and Saturday nights at 8 p.m.
May 18 & 19, June 1 & 2
The Producer’s Club
358 W 44th St, New York, NY
Tuesday, April 17, 2018
From The Diary of Dr. Fiend
Saturday:
All week the pigeons had been eating the special grain I prepared. Poor, unsuspecting citizens! As planned the effects of the grain began in the early afternoon. I watched with delight as special reports began streaming throughout the media. The first was a couple who were enjoying a lovely picnic in the park - yuck! - when the first incident happened. Suddenly it was as if lava had fallen from the sky and set their blanket ablaze. What was this? Stupid citizens! Before long there was one story after another of the mysterious "lava rain" that was devastating the city. The fires were lovely! I left my window open so I could listen to the beautiful music of sirens and the screams of a city in chaos. Even after my little flying merchants of death finished their "rain" of terror the fires burned. It made for a wonderful evening and I was quite pleased with myself.
Sunday:
Well, the stupid authorities finally figured out that it was the pigeons. Surely they would know that some evil genius had planned the whole thing, right? WRONG! The cretins and their inept "experts" decided that the birds had somehow consumed large amounts of ghost peppers. GHOST PEPPERS!? The level of brain activity these fools display is shockingly low. I doubt they even bothered to test the residue left behind. Because if they did they would know the genius it took to formulate the grain and have it make its way through the digestive track of the birds to release its full effect at precisely the right moment. I almost went public but have decided to work on another plan for next weekend. This time they will know that it was someone with a brilliant mind and a thirst for destruction. Then I will hear those words I've been waiting to hear from their lips: "Who would do such a thing?!"
Monday:
I was almost late to work because of a bus driver who decided to be kind and help several handicapped people get on and off the bus. Why do we keep the handicapped around? They're simply in the way all of the time and the rest of us have to work around them. It would much more helpful if they would just use them for human experimentation. If it's good enough for prisoners it's good enough for the handicapped I say. Work was a complete disappointment as well. I had planned to stay in the server room and work on my next act of evil but as IT Director it's never that easy. The idiots that I work with managed to completely crash the server and I had to spend the entire day fixing it. But it did give me a wonderful idea for next weekend's event. An electrical current that I can remotely send to the dogs and cats of the city that will make them enraged and turn on their owners. Should be simple enough. Hopefully the authorities will figure it out this time. But I'm not holding my breath. Now it's time for a nice dinner and a warm bath. Tomorrow the wheels begin to turn and I'll be one step closer to another glorious weekend of chaos!
All week the pigeons had been eating the special grain I prepared. Poor, unsuspecting citizens! As planned the effects of the grain began in the early afternoon. I watched with delight as special reports began streaming throughout the media. The first was a couple who were enjoying a lovely picnic in the park - yuck! - when the first incident happened. Suddenly it was as if lava had fallen from the sky and set their blanket ablaze. What was this? Stupid citizens! Before long there was one story after another of the mysterious "lava rain" that was devastating the city. The fires were lovely! I left my window open so I could listen to the beautiful music of sirens and the screams of a city in chaos. Even after my little flying merchants of death finished their "rain" of terror the fires burned. It made for a wonderful evening and I was quite pleased with myself.
Sunday:
Well, the stupid authorities finally figured out that it was the pigeons. Surely they would know that some evil genius had planned the whole thing, right? WRONG! The cretins and their inept "experts" decided that the birds had somehow consumed large amounts of ghost peppers. GHOST PEPPERS!? The level of brain activity these fools display is shockingly low. I doubt they even bothered to test the residue left behind. Because if they did they would know the genius it took to formulate the grain and have it make its way through the digestive track of the birds to release its full effect at precisely the right moment. I almost went public but have decided to work on another plan for next weekend. This time they will know that it was someone with a brilliant mind and a thirst for destruction. Then I will hear those words I've been waiting to hear from their lips: "Who would do such a thing?!"
Monday:
I was almost late to work because of a bus driver who decided to be kind and help several handicapped people get on and off the bus. Why do we keep the handicapped around? They're simply in the way all of the time and the rest of us have to work around them. It would much more helpful if they would just use them for human experimentation. If it's good enough for prisoners it's good enough for the handicapped I say. Work was a complete disappointment as well. I had planned to stay in the server room and work on my next act of evil but as IT Director it's never that easy. The idiots that I work with managed to completely crash the server and I had to spend the entire day fixing it. But it did give me a wonderful idea for next weekend's event. An electrical current that I can remotely send to the dogs and cats of the city that will make them enraged and turn on their owners. Should be simple enough. Hopefully the authorities will figure it out this time. But I'm not holding my breath. Now it's time for a nice dinner and a warm bath. Tomorrow the wheels begin to turn and I'll be one step closer to another glorious weekend of chaos!
Sunday, January 21, 2018
Ripped from the Floorboards…
Sci-Fi-Q Gets Lost in IRTE’s The Experiment
By Jeremy Binderhull
~ ~ ~
This scene is just one example of what you might witness when you attend one of IRTE’s performances of their sci-fi comedy thriller, The Experiment, at this year’s Asheville Fringe Arts Festival.
Performing for two nights during the 4-day festival, the Improvisational Repertory Theatre Ensemble mixes comedy improv and science fiction in their unique brand of improvisational theater. The troupe works without a script, crafting their character relationships and stories onstage before your very eyes.
Last year IRTE won the award for “Artists Whose Work Made Me Laugh The Most” for their improvisational birthday party extravaganza, Happy Birthday, Stupid Kid! Their production for the 2018 festival (the 16th annual Asheville Fringe Arts Festival!) is a decidedly different show. Thanks to their director writing up his impressions from some of the ensemble’s rehearsals (yes, they do rehearse for their unscripted shows), we have a few more glimpses into the possible worlds awaiting audience members who dare to submit themselves to "The Experiment"... Enjoy!
~ ~ ~
Is he gone yet? I don’t hear any footsteps. He must be gone.
"He"? Why do you keep saying “he”? You saw that thing same as I did. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t know if I can call it a “he” or anything else I’ve ever known.
Did you just hear a chicken?
~ ~ ~
She gazed deep into my eyes. I could smell her breath. She’d had some of Charlie’s four-alarm chili. That was when I knew she was still human, still one of us.
~ ~ ~
Strange going-on in the mountains of western North Carolina...
Kids gone missing up in the foothills outside of Waynesville, Asheville, and Fletcher. Reports of bizarre sounds and eerie lights. These are the things that keep residents ever watchful and neighbors banding together to solve a problem local authorities seem unable to. With the winter chill firmly taken hold in these small, mountain communities, folks aren’t taking any chances. People are taking things into their own hands, and it’s about to get messy.
Find out what happens, and be a part of the action at IRTE’s The Experiment, presented by the Asheville Fringe Arts Festival
Featuring Actors: Nannette Deasy, Robert Baumgardner, Jamie Maloney, Connie Perry, and Sam Katz
Directed by Bill Berg
With Musical Guest Mike Andersen and Friends
Thursday, January 25 at 7 p.m.
Saturday, January 27 at 7 p.m.
Sly Grog Lounge, 271 Haywood St, Asheville, NC
Tickets: $13
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