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Jonathan Clough - Tenor

Jonathan was born of an incestuous ménage à trois on Rolf Harris’s opening tour of the U.K. His birth, a hideous affair for all those involved, happened in a lay-by on the M1 motorway. Rejected by his mother Jonathan was hidden away in a private clinic in the village of Royston Vasey in the dark north of England, until his mental state could be controlled (to this day he has a terrible fear of rectal probes). His only relief from pain was to wail in a tuneful manner - until they brought out the gag. 

One day the opportunity for escape presented itself and he grabbed it with all three vocal cords. A troupe of crazies called Men Wot Sing, who were passing through the village, stopped at the butcher for his special meat (the butcher of Royston Vasey was well known for his special meat). He was taking his enforced weekly therapeutic walk around the village. This therapy involved the villagers pelting him with their dead family pets. His doctor thought that budgies were particularly beneficial if they could contact his head, at a 30 degree angle to the sun, as long as they had been dead for four days or more.

Anyway, back to Jonathan's story. He managed to get hold of the butcher's knife and in a flash he had disembowelled his guard. While the guard was distracted, holding his colon away from the sawdust, Jonathan slipped in amongst Men Wot Sing and struck up a pose as the group shuffled back to the tour bus. After sniffing him a few times and urinating on his leg, he was accepted and has been a member of the group ever since.

And, to Jonathan's joy, he is encouraged to wail tunefully as often as he likes, never again having to worry about the dreaded gag.

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Knackered! ::: Setting up for Woodford, 2009
A cranky tenor. ::: Awesome image courtesy of Bryce Wegener.
Spokesmen of the Dramatic Arts! ::: Awesome photo taken by Sharon Dean.
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