Free Breaking Big by Penny Draper

jumps away and stares at the mess on the floor. I love it! And Cam is killing himself. I have to make sure they know it was me, so I pick up the streamers and, with great deference, arrange them on Quince’s head. Then I step back to admire my work. None of this is in the script, but this is dress rehearsal, right? It’s like filming live—you have to go with what you’ve got. Quince looks like a thundercloud, but Bottom is starting to grin. Just wait, Bottom, your turn is next!
    It’s been a long time since I clubbed Bottom with the donkey head. I think he’s suspicious that something like that is going to happen, and from the back I can see his shoulders tighten in anticipation. But no, the donkey head makes it safely onto his head. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve given it a new look. There’s a beard, and a long mustache, and I’ve added gigantic false eyelashes, a golden wig and a silver tiara. Bottom can’t see it, so he doesn’t know why he’s hearing snickers from the other dancers, snickers they’re trying hard to conceal from the audience. Snickers are good, but what I really want is a big laugh, one the dancers can’t contain.
    Oberon is up next. He’s supposed to go stage left and pick the magical purple flower, then give it to me so I can cast the love spell. Oberon does his stately dance across the stage and reaches down for the flower. But it’s not there. He looks again. Nothing. If his character was supposed to be comical, he could play it up, but Oberon is the King. It’s hard to look dignified when everybody knows you’ve been suckered. For the sake of the music—we can’t get too far behind—I dance sweetly over to him and hand him the missing flower. Then he hands it right back, which, of course, looks ridiculous. More snickers. A couple of lesser fairies pick up other, smaller flowers from around the stage and hand them solemnly to Oberon, making him even more disconcerted. That’s not supposed to happen.
    Now I have allies. The other fairies cover for me as more props go missing, and I’m never where they expect me to be. Unbelievably, we keep up with the music and the plot proceeds as it should, in spite of my unscheduled disruptions. There’s only one prank left to go.
    From stage left comes Starveling, carrying his lantern. He’s supposed to think the lantern is the moon, and that he’s the man in the moon. When he gets to center stage, he stops and opens the little door in the lantern so that the light can shine out. But this time, there is no light. Instead, there’s Ratinski, happily chewing a hunk of cheese inside the lantern. Starveling shrieks and throws the lantern away from him. I’m ready for it (Jeremy made me swear Ratinski wouldn’t get hurt), so I catch the lantern as it falls. Meanwhile, Starveling backs into Bottom, who can’t really see very well under the donkey’s head. They both fall down, and while the other characters are trying to help them up, I bring the lantern back into the crowd of fairies, and the shrieking starts up all over again. It’s a wonderful, fantastic, messy tangle, and if I hadn’t promised Jeremy I wouldn’t, I’d be tempted to let the rat out of the lantern and really have some fun. But for Ratinski’s sake, I’d better not.
    The dancers manage to untangle themselves and get back to the performance, and I hand off the lantern to Jeremy, waiting in the wings. He looks like he’s in shock. There’s a lot of improv going on as the dancers find their places in the choreography. I bet a lot of companies couldn’t get back on track after something like that. But the Premier Dance Company can do anything. I play it cool for the rest of the production, right to the very last moment when the artificial fog rolls across the stage, making us all disappear as the curtain finally drops.
    I’m mobbed. I don’t know if they’re going to kiss me or kill me, but I’m not worried. I did what I had to do. If they didn’t like it,