Kinda Like Gallagher Meets Zumanity. But With Much More Penis.
As a fan of pushing the limits, and making the most of one’s talents, I have to admit that while I may not like shows such as “American Idol” and “America’s Got Talent” or “The View”, there is something to be said about taking amateurs with little (and often misguided) vision and strapping them into a vehicle that could rocket them to fame, no matter how lacking they may be in the content department. Sit back and drink in the magic of going from a nobody to having YOUR OWN VEGAS SHOW! Your name in lights… tickets being sold at a deep discount at a kiosk outside of a hotel on the Strip where people stop abruptly to take photos on an overpass amongst the homeless. It’s what dreams are made of. Or at least the outer lying fringes of dreams… but with far more talking animals, strange indoor weather and a smell that you can’t quite put your finger on (and live in fear that you may have stepped in). And, should you recall my earlier dream of becoming a world-class Olympic Figure Skating Choreographer, well, this just builds toward that, my friends.
That said, in keeping the underlying “solo sex tape” theme from a prior post, let’s really stretch this out, and throw down a tribute to Liberace. After all, the man personifies the Vegas of old, so it just feels right. But as a traveling, one-man show that would one day find its way into a theater in Vegas, baby! We set things as a retro-looking piece, inspiring the glory days of that city in the desert, featuring Brian, Master of the Hands-Free Piano. A jaw-dropping spectacle that’s loads of fun for everyone. Can you see it? I can:
“He really works to put the ‘penis’ in ‘pianist’. Really an eye-full!”, raves Variety.
“Re-MEMBER your favorite classics as Brian tickles the ivories with his giggle stick!” —People Magazine
“A festival of testicles… and something else we weren’t sitting close enough to get a really good look at.” Entertainment Weekly
“It was all over so fast. And pretty much all over.” — Clarice Gimbalson, front row, center at the Harrisburg YMCA show
The show, in a nutshell: I take to the stage, riding atop one of the old Siegfried & Roy Tigers, decked-out in roller skates and having a gold-plated chicken on its head (at the matinee shows, we’ll have matching gold-plated chickens). The chorus will rise into an a cappella version of the “Axel F” theme from Beverly Hills Cop, and little custom Skittles, coated to look like Cialis will fall from the ceiling into the crowd. I’ll pound-out classics like “I’ll be Seeing You”, “The Beer Barrel Polka”, and “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing”, and putting my own spin on favorites with versions like “Begin the Big One”, “Everywhere My Love”, and “Spellbound Cockcerto”. We’ll use the intermission as a refractory period, and allow for a costume change (and a cleaning crew to, uh, do their thing). Come to think of it, if we can get Clorox on board, this will be great. Ponder, too, the sheer genius of having the theater lit by blacklight, and then incorporating a laser show… We could do a planetarium tour, and change-up the show with some Pink Floyd. This is going places.
Actually, I jumped the gun there. We save the cleaning crew for AFTER the finale, which would be a back-light and laser light spectacular! Sequins and ropey jets all aglow, the relentless pounding of the ivories, a triple-stacked set of grand pianos and a trampoline are but the beginning! Axl Rose will join me in a gut-wrenching duet of “I’m Always Chasing Rainbows”, on which we’ll have to write our own lyrics, but he’s good like that. We’ll drift into a medley, highlighted by my unique spins on classic with “Semen Mixer”, “Brian Rag” and the visual tour de force “El Cockbanchero”, finally closing it all with a reprise and disco remix of “I’ll Be Seeing You”… and a walk through the gift shop, thank you very much.
I want people to think of this as not only a tribute to the days gone by in showbiz, and not just a cross between Zumanity and a Gallagher show from the 1980’s, but a commentary on what people perceive as celebrity. It’s everything that you never imagined Vegas could be.
Ponder the genius of this being televised on New Year’s Eve, and the natural tie-in to the ball drop. Naturally, we’ll have to stage this someplace much warmer than Times Square, but sometimes we have to make concessions. Suck it, Seacrest.