Handicapped theatre group’s Christmas play receives piss-poor reviews, zero funding

Article by Brunk Edwards / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

Let’s Do This, a city-funded theatre group comprised of physically handicapped, mentally retarded, and all-around ridiculous people staged their Christmas play, Robot Cop, on Saturday night, resulting in unanimously bad reviews from all in attendance and a cancellation of their 2010 funding from Mayor Koch’s office.

The 3½ hour production was held on a shoddily built stage resting awkwardly against parked cars on Hancock Street outside of City Hall.

Selected randomly from a list of Quincy based performance groups, Let’s Do This began their production at 8:00PM, with the understanding that it was to end only a half hour later, in accordance with city laws concerning amateur theatre.

The gathering audience began to notice something was amiss almost immediately as a wheelchair bound actor shot out from behind the main stage curtain on fire, launching into the crowd and dying immediately.

The curtain then rose for a moment, briefly revealing a hideously painted backdrop that some assumed was meant to be a futuristic, post-apocalyptic city, with the words “North Pole” scrawled on a banner, before falling back down and remaining closed for approximately ten minutes.

Muffled screams were then heard, which were then rapidly drowned out by the sound of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” blaring at an ear-shattering volume from the stage speakers.

While the curtain remained closed, hundreds of multi-colored balloons ascended from behind the stage carrying a 20-square-foot tapestry of former Hollywood scoundrel, Raul Julia, into the night sky. Bored silence rippled through the crowd as the balloons drifted off into the distance.


The giant tapestry, currently believed to be floating forebodingly near Super Stop & Shop.

James Gravy, a Woburn-based pyrotechnical expert, then detonated a large amount of his personal 4th of July fireworks stash dangerously close to the front row, scarring many children and dogs, and causing local Christmas enthusiast, Alf Nelson, to keel over and die.

Reviews came pouring into the Mayor’s Arts & Entertainment hotline almost immediately following the event.

“That was insanity,” growled Babu Porkchop, a salt miner from lower Merrymount. “It appeared to me that they were trying to recreate the movie Robocop, but they got absolutely none of the Christmas spirit of the original. I mean, Robot Cop? Really? Are they fucking serious about that shit? C’mon!”

“Easily the worst Christmas play I’ve ever seen,” replied Brendan “The Rifleman” Stremmi, a single dad, currently squatting in a Wollaston backyard. “I took my kids here to see some culture, not see a bunch of deranged clowns shit their pants and cough up blood. I could have taken them to IHOP for that.”

Austin LeTruth, a key player in the Voyager Space Shuttle disaster, agreed with the negative feedback. “The costumes were terrible. That mute guy kept forgetting his lines. And for forty-five minutes, nothing happened except a guy wearing a cape drinking a carton of rancid milk.”

Pausing briefly to bust out a distortion-heavy guitar solo, LeTruth added “If this is the best Quincy can do for Christmas, then I’m moving to Rwanda.”

Seconds after LeTruth’s private jet darted off towards the dark continent, the mayor’s office issued a formal apology and announced it will sever all ties with the Let’s Do This entertainment group.

“They're finished,” bellowed Mayor Koch. “I’m deeply sorry to all the families who were in attendance. I promise you this won’t happen again.”


Mayor Koch, ready to collapse after a reported thirteen slices of meatball pizza.

Mayor Koch’s speech was later revealed to be recycled word-for-word from last year's Christmas apology speech, which was issued after numerous endangered silverback gorillas were dropped headfirst from a harrier jet over Quincy Center into a vat of melted rubber.