Cancellation by death [antikvár]

PROLOGUEAll professions have their problems. The trouble with being an actor is all the time spent asking yourself, Why not me?The rest of the time is dawdled away asking yourself, Why me?In a stage play, performers like me just love getting murderedthe earlier, the better. In Something's Afoot, my/Lady Manley Prowe's smoking electrocution was the fabulous climax to act 1. Very flashy-strobe lights and much twitching and writhing. In the notable Shamokin, Pennsylvania, sum-mer-stock production of Deathtrap, I/Myra spent leisurely dead time flat on the stage even before intermission. Aside from the Twilight Show, in which a suspicious non-union fly chose to waltz all over my face, it was great. I got paid the same as all the other actors, had to learn only half as many lines, and spared myself (and the long-suffering choreographer) a lot of frustration. I got my share of the applause at curtain call, and caught up on my correspondence during the second act.Directors call me a natural actor. That means I am far too lazy to study my craft. Likely, the only