Irish Spring, Secret, Right Guard, Sure?

Last night's show was horrible. I think I now know what flop sweat is.

It couldn't have come at a worse time, too. Just the night before, the owner of the theatre sat us down and told us that the improv program was not making enough money, and it was almost eliminated. Instead, they took away our time slot, and will sell it to an outside organization who can make them cash. They then put us on the same ticket as the main improv company, so we are now piggybacking them.

The upside is we still get to perform, and our dues don't get raised, and actually I think that 11PM on a Friday is better than 8:30PM.

The downside is we really need to prove ourselves with this run, and we are running one of the weakest shows ever. Hopefully, we get better. Obviously, we will. Just the mere fact of doing it over time will help, but we really need to make a leap in the improvement category.

Last night's audience was made up of mostly friends and fellow troupe members, people who would laugh at the worst things just because they love you or know what it is like, and we STILL couldn't get a laugh. Worse is, you stand in back while other people on stage are doing their scenes, and you can see all the long faces in the audience. Not really inspirational.

The mega-super worse part is that starting next week, we follow the main company show. Which is to say that all these audience folks are going to sit through one hour of a tight, long running, hilariously unique format, and then, like lambs to the slaughter, come in for the second half... our shit fest.

So, we have one week to really get it right. Which is one night, actually, because we only rehearse on Thursdays. Oh yeah, and the owner of the theatre is going to be there next week! Whoopee!

Now what sort of deodorant prevents flop sweat?

Help us, God.