Never thought it would come to this, can't wait for more!
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| The Chalet School's Got Talent! updated
09/06 http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=4583 |
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| Author: | abbeygirl [ Thu May 29, 2008 12:15 pm ] |
| Post subject: | The Chalet School's Got Talent! updated 09/06 |
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Apologies in advance to anyone who has never come across this show…. And apologies to any one who has. I have taken enormous liberties with times, dates, ages and places. But hey – its my story! Ps I know I haven't quite finished Paul Temple yet - but the bunnies would not be silenced... I hope this is in the right place... Announcer: And now, live from Switzerland we present “The Chalet School’s Got Talent! And here to present the show this evening – please welcome Ant and Dec!” Wild applause rings out as a screen opens to reveal the two eternally youthful, be-suited Peter Pan look-alikes, smiling broadly for the benefit of the camera. Beneath the sugary, crinkly faced smiles, however, they are whispering urgently to each other “How the heck did we end up here?” asks Ant – his lips barely moving as he frames the question in lightly accented Geordie. “No idea mate” replies Dec in similar dulcet accents – “last thing I knew we were set to go on stage at the London Palladium. There was a huge flash and the next thing I know we are behind a set of screens with that bloke announcing us. Look – there’s the autocue – lets just follow that and we can not go wrong. After all it can’t be worse than the auditions for Britain’s Got Talent.” And suiting the action to the word, – unaware of just how wrong they could be - the pair turned back to the autocue and with the ease of long partnership, smoothly began presenting the show. “First – every one welcome our judges. Piers Morgan! Amanda Holden! And Simon Cowell!” sang out Dec as three very puzzled looking judges, alternately strode or minced down the steps to their places. “Piers – are we expecting something good tonight then!” “To be honest – I really haven’t a clue” replied Piers – as always smart in his Saville Row suit and dark silk tie. “I’m not even quite sure where we are?” and he looked hopefully at his fellow judges – Amanda in a sprayed gold dress, lavishly decorated with sequins – and Simon – as usual also in made- to- measure – but with a silk shirt, open sufficiently far to demonstrate conclusively that Darwin’s theory of the Origin of the Species was the correct version of events. Both of them, however, looked equally at a loss, and Ant – a seasoned pro – quickly turned attention away from the judges – towards the contestants. “Lets hear it for our first act for this evening” and he turns towards the right hand side of the stage where a small dark haired girl in a red silk dress, with appliquéd bits of holly round hem and waist is waiting in the wings. As she hears her cue, she moves to the centre of the stage – shyly but very sweetly – smiling at the audience, judges and finally Ant and Dec. “And your name is?” Ant asks, pulling the child between them and turning her face to the camera. “Je m’appelle..” she begins and then blushes adorably with confusion. “I am so sorry” she whispers “My beloved Maman was French and we always spoke that dear language together before… before she died” and the child finished with a small sob – one perfect tear rolling down that pretty red cheek. There was a pause, whilst the audience choked back their own tears – and Amanda Holden began to well up herself. The child controlled herself with an effort and began again “My name is Robin – Robin Humphries. And I’m seven.” “And what are you going to be doing for us tonight?” enquires Simon Cowell – his shrewd eyes calculating the effect of the child’s elfin prettiness on the audience. His quick ears caught the comments such as “Das EngelKind!” and he stored that information away for the future. “I am going to sing a song my Muzzer taught me – it is called Ze Red Zarafan – and it once bought my beloved adopted sister back from the brink of death…” replied the little girl. “Carry on then!” invited Simon – his eyebrows raised - and the judges and audience alike settled back to listen. “The Red Sarafan – a traditional Russian folk song” the Robin announced importantly and began to sing. "On the red sarafan, dear mother, Do not work anymore, It is useless sewing it. So, do not exert yourself! Daughter, sit here close to me and listen: Youth will never return, It flees away from you. Happily you may sing like the May lark; Laugh out, dance and spring... It will all be gone. Soon shall come the time When lust and joy fly away... And the wilted face Shall be covered with wrinkles. Once I sang songs, Laughed out, danced and sprang; Stiff are now my arms and legs, Limping is my walking. On sewing the sarafan I can revive old memories. Then I gaze at you dancing in it, And can feel I am young again". The Robin managed to sing the entire song without breaking down – although the same could not be said for the audience and also Amanda Holden, who had tears streaming down her face as the last melodious note died away. After one perfect moment of silence, the cheers erupted all round the packed hallway, many of the people in the crowd getting to their feet in appreciation of the song and the cuteness of the singer. Robin looked shyly pleased and performed the graceful curtsey that was expected of all pupils at the Chalet School, to show her appreciation. Ant and Dec appeared at her side once more. “Well Robin – we can see what the audience thought of that! Now let’s here what the judges have to say. Piers – you first.” “Well I thought that was just marvelous Robin. I think you could be a serious contender, I really do” “Thank You” muttered the Robin shyly. “Amanda? Can you stop crying long enough to tell us your thoughts?” “I could feel you singing that from your heart – you were thinking of the lost mother – I could tell. It was just wonderful!” and handkerchief in hand, Amanda proceeded to test out the efficacy of her extremely expensive brand of waterproof mascara. “Simon?” “Well … I’m going to have to say that I …. ” He pauses for effect here. The audience tense, ready to boo him, if he dare criticize their darling “ I agree with Piers and Amanda. The song might have been a little old for you – but you sang it extremely well, with a great deal of feeling. I definitely think you are a finalist!” His final words can hardly be heard over the noise of the audience – who are clapping and cheering and shouting “Final” at the tops of their voices. Ant holds up his hand – and as if by magic the noise stops. “Well Robin. It doesn’t get any better than that. Are you pleased?” “Oh yes! Zank u all so much. It has always been my dream to sing on a big stage like this one and it has come true! I am so happy!” “We’ll see how the voting goes later on – but for now at least, we’ll say good bye to the Robin…” And smiling adorably, the Robin goes off stage, where Madge – her surrogate mother is waiting to hug her…and Ant and Dec turn to the Auto cue to find out which will be the next act to appear on The Chalet School’s Got Talent…… | |
| Author: | Liz K [ Thu May 29, 2008 12:22 pm ] |
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Never thought it would come to this, can't wait for more!
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| Author: | Abi [ Thu May 29, 2008 2:21 pm ] |
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I have only seen this once, when I was babysitting, but VERY funny! | |
| Author: | Chelsea [ Thu May 29, 2008 2:46 pm ] |
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I've only seen this on you tube. One the guy who sang opera (and I think eventually won his season). The other a boy who said he was always being teased at school and then open his mouth and sang a gorgeous song - I think Simon made some comment about the teasing about to stop. | |
| Author: | abbeybufo [ Thu May 29, 2008 7:12 pm ] |
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Thanks Fi 
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| Author: | PaulineS [ Thu May 29, 2008 9:02 pm ] |
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Thank you.
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| Author: | roversgirl [ Thu May 29, 2008 9:05 pm ] |
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Thanks very much!
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| Author: | Rebecca [ Thu May 29, 2008 9:20 pm ] |
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I'm liking this a lot!
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| Author: | abbeygirl [ Fri May 30, 2008 2:04 pm ] |
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Thanks everyone for the comments..... I was all set to write a really sort of serious sad story (and had actually started it) but this one sort of leapt out at me first.... Reading from his autocue Dec announces : “And next up this evening it’s Cornelia’s Flowers – let’s give them a hearty round of applause.” The audience oblige as out from the wings of the stage run a group of young girls clutching a variety of instruments of varying calibre including jews’-harps, ukuleles, mouth-organs, whistles, a drum, a tambourine, castanets, cymbals, a bugle, and a zither. They come to a stop beside Ant and Dec and cluster round the single microphone in the centre of the stage. “And who are you?” asks Simon “We’re Cornelia’s Flowers!” came the chorus of high pitched girlish voices in synchrony. “That’s quite an unusual name girls. How did that come about?” chips in Ant “Well – it was Cornelia’s idea to form a band and enter The Chalet School’s Got Talent – and as her dad bought all the instruments, she said if we didn’t call the band after her, we couldn’t have them.” Explained one of the other girls. Cornelia blushed and there was a loud yelp as Cornelia accidentally trod on the foot of the informant. “I think we’d best get on” decided Simon and the three judges sat back in anticipation of a great treat. Looking rather scared, now that the time had come to actually strut their stuff, the performers got on to the platform and after counting three several times, finally began. No one had thought to ask the girls exactly what music they were planning to perform, which might have been a good idea. Certainly no one in the audience had a clue what they were supposed to be listening to. But then that might have been due to the fact that Cornelia had changed her mind at the last minute and told everyone that they were to play Elgar’s Land of Hope and Glory – she thought that such a well known and rousing tune would appeal to the audience and gain them valuable votes. And so it might have done, if in the confusion and nerves that surrounded their first performance in front of millions, half of them lost their heads and completely forgetting Cornelia’s decision, had stuck to the original choice – Variations on Wagner’s Ride of the Valkeries. The effect was interesting to say the least, particularly given the rather short time some of the instrumentalists had had to come to terms with the vagaries of their particular choice of weapon. Mr Tristan Denny – Plato to one and all – wished with every fibre of his being that he had laid in a stock of cotton wool for his maltreated musical ears – the effects of stuffing large red cotton handkerchiefs into his suffering orifices just did not do the trick, although even he managed to spare a thought from his pain to wonder just how Joyce had managed to THAT to the jew’s harp she was holding…… It was only a few seconds into the piece that the first buzzer sounded from the judges – it was predictably enough Simon Cowell – the judge who spent much of his working life evaluating musical talent – but after an extraordinary screech from the saxophone Cornelia was wielding – Piers’ buzzer with its giant red cross followed in hot pursuit. By rights Amanda should have followed shortly after and the whole performance would perforce have had to come to an end. However, once again Ms Holden was reduced to tears, this time of helpless laughter. She held onto her seat by the barest of margins, and was certainly in no condition to press anything. So the “music” continued – and the audience reaction was mixed. Half were shouting “Off! Off! Off!” – the others were as convulsed as Amanda. At last the piece finished – more or less together – which was a bit of a miracle really in the circumstances, and the performers turned to bow to the audience and await the judges reaction which they were sure would be appreciative. This time Amanda didn’t recover in time to speak her piece – but Piers and Simon made up for it. It was a very crestfallen set of girls who walked sadly from the stage – their dreams of global stardom in ruins around them. “I think” said Ant in a rather dazed tone of voice (he had been closest to Cornelia and her saxophone throughout the rendition) “That now would be a very good time for our first commercial break. We’ll be back soon with another - - amazing act for you…” | |
| Author: | PaulineS [ Fri May 30, 2008 4:54 pm ] |
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Thank you | |
| Author: | Rebecca [ Fri May 30, 2008 6:35 pm ] |
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Fabulous! Thanks, abbeygirl! | |
| Author: | abbeybufo [ Fri May 30, 2008 8:16 pm ] |
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I'm giggling like mad and I've never even seen the 'original' Love the way you are bringing in 'acts' from the series - what next, I wonder? 
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| Author: | Lisa [ Fri May 30, 2008 8:52 pm ] |
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abbeygirl wrote:
Mr Tristan Denny – Plato to one and all – wished
with every fibre of his being that he had laid in a stock of cotton wool
for his maltreated musical ears – the effects of stuffing large red cotton
handkerchiefs into his suffering orifices just did not do the trick,
Beautifully expressed A great
installment - thanks! | |
| Author: | Lesley [ Fri May 30, 2008 8:56 pm ] |
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Poor old Plato!
Thanks abbeygirl | |
| Author: | Chris S [ Sat May 31, 2008 2:37 pm ] |
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Great story, I have watched the 5 semi finals this year and they're just like this - good acts and badly rehearsed acts.
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| Author: | jilianb [ Thu Jun 05, 2008 4:21 pm ] |
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Brilliant, thanks Abbeygirl. Can't wait to see who comes next. | |
| Author: | abbeygirl [ Sat Jun 07, 2008 9:09 am ] |
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Thanks for all the comments.... and as a reward for your patience here are the next two acts..... It is strange that one – shall we be polite and say a not quite so good act? – is often followed by one of a similar quality on this show. And I’m afraid, with the judges fingers already primed and ready to buzz, it takes a good act to pull them round. Unfortunately the next act was not it. The next contestant walked confidently onto the stage and announced herself. “I have had six years of verse speaking training and am hopeful that the judges and audience will be more appreciate of my talents than the rather shortsighted staff members at the School. “ And with a shake of the picturesque long blond hair that she wore loose around her shoulders in defiance of school rules, Yseult Pertwee pulled the hood of the cape over her head, in the belief it heightened the atmosphere. In actuality it merely made most of what she was saying inaudible – a fact for which many members of the audience were devoutly grateful. “The Scene is laid in the Barony of Kilmacowen, in the County of Sligo, and at a remote time.” Announced Yseult and, flinging her arms violently to one side (for what reason no one was ever able to decide), began to declaim in what had to be the worst Oirsh accent ever: (Biddy O’Ryan eat your heart out) “ How a Princess Edane, A daughter of a King of Ireland, heard A voice singing on a May Eve like this, And followed half awake and half asleep, (this signified by a vigorous rubbing of the eyes) Until she came into the Land of Faery, (Yseult fluttered her arms up and down in a fairy like manner on the stage) Where nobody gets old and godly and grave, Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise, Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue. And she is still there, busied with a dance Deep in the dewy shadow of a wood, Or where stars walk upon a mountain-top.” Three buzzers went off simulataneously at this point and three very large crosses appeared above Yseult’s head. She stopped puzzled. Presumably the judges must have thought that she had finished her speech. She was just about to inform them of their error, when Ant and Dec came on to the stage commiserating with her. “Well Yseult – the judges obviously didn’t like that – lets hear why. Piers” said Dec turning to the first judge. “Well Dec I would have thought that was patently obvious!” exclaimed Piers. “The only reason I didn’t buzz before was because I couldn’t decide if she was serious or tying to be funny. I still can’t as it happens, but it doesn’t matter – as it was rubbish whatever way you looked at it.” The audience cheered and Yseult looked totally affronted. “It is a very serious and eerie play!” she exclaimed, moving to the microphone and addressing Piers directly. “Not the way you were playing it love” he retorted. “Lets move on to Amanda” cut in Ant, who could sense a fight brewing. “I agree with everyhthing Piers said.” Amanada replied and left it at that. “Simon? What did you think Comedy or Straight?” asked Dec, turning to the notoriously harsh final judge. “Quite frankly a straight jacket is my solution. Sorry dear but you just don’t have the talent needed to win this competition.” Yesult could hardly believe her ears. Surely not another set of people who could just not appreciate the finer things in life – like her acting. Still she supposed it was her own fault for going on to such a common show – now if it had been Radio 4….. and her ego unaffected either by the judges comments, or the riff raff audience’s shouts of “Off! Off! Offf!” Yseult left the stage in search of a more appreciative audience. ******** The judges mood following two bad acts was slightly subdued, although the audience remained in good spirits – which were boosted still further when three girls sashayed on to the stage next, all carrying string instruments, and wearing very little in the way of clothing. Their tunics had been hoiked up well over the knee and there was not a sign of a sensible woollen stocking anywhere. Crisp white regulation blouses were undone to shadow crevice level, and the look was completed with heavily kohled eyes and artfully mussed hair. In the audience, Plato had to be resuscitated by his sister – who was forced to employ a sharp blow from her pointed elbow simply to restart his breathing. He wheezed his thanks and sat forward as far as possible in order to allow him to concentrate more closely on the technique of the performers. Matey on the other hand sniffed audibly and was heard to mutter things about dosing them all well before bedtime. Mlle Lepattre on the other hand, lost her head completely and shouted “Bravo!” as she fondly recalled her days in the Follies Bergeres. “I’m Gay” and a voice from the audience was heard to matter “Damm shame!” “and I’m Jacynth and this is Vi.” “And what is your act?” asked Amanda. The girls looked down at the enormous stringed instruments that belonged to two of them and the violin that Vi Lucy was clutching in one hand and looked slightly blank. “Err. We’re a string trio?” ventured Vi at last when the silence had threatened to become oppressive. “Well off you go then girls” responded Amanda brightly and sat back to listen. At a nod from Vi – they swung into a slick, polished routine which combined Vivaldi’s Storm with beautifully choreographed moves which allowed the shortened gym tunics to flutter tantalisingly upwards. Plato was so lost in the beauty of the music that his sister had to recourse to the elbow at least twice during the performance. The three musicians executed a beautifully timed rallantando and finished together on one final triumphant note. The audience – and judges - leapt to their feet and the applause rang out through the Hall. The three delighted girls bowed low to their appreciative audience and for some reason this intensified the cheering in part of the crowd, whilst Plato – overcome by the emotional reaction to the music – fainted. Ant and Dec strolled back to the middle of the stage – their big grins in evidence. “Well girls – you’ve heard the audience reaction to that. They obviously like it, shall we see what the judges think?” The three girls nod and move closer together, anxious to hear what these three people who have such an influence on the voting process, have to say about them. “Piers – you first” says Dec and Piers opens and shuts his moth a few times before saying “you girls were phenomenal! I think this competition just got serious!” the audience cheers again and the Trio on the stage hug themselves in excitement. This makes Plato faint again. “Amanda?” “Yes – Piers has just said it for me. I agree with everything he said.!” The audience cheer still more loudly. The girls jump up and down in excitement and Plato faints – again. “Simon?” “That was phenomenal. Just brilliant. Totally original. I can see you three going all the way1” and Simon Cowell sits back in his chair, smiling. The girls on stage go mad. This is by far the best reaction so far from the judges, and they can almost taste fame and fortune. Clutching their instruments, they go off stage, smiling and waving as the audience clap and cheer and then settle back in their seats to see what happens next… | |
| Author: | Lesley [ Sat Jun 07, 2008 9:32 am ] |
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Therese - i never realised! Love the comment when Gay introduced herself.
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| Author: | abbeybufo [ Sat Jun 07, 2008 2:07 pm ] |
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abbeygirl wrote:
In the audience, Plato had to be resuscitated by
his sister – who was forced to employ a sharp blow from her pointed elbow
simply to restart his breathing. He wheezed his thanks and sat forward as
far as possible in order to allow him to concentrate more closely on the
technique of the performers.
Thanks Fi - but please don't forget that other drabble where you've left us all on a cliff
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| Author: | Sugar [ Sat Jun 07, 2008 2:47 pm ] |
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I love this! Gay Jac and Vi made me think of the group "Bond!" | |
| Author: | Elle [ Sat Jun 07, 2008 6:35 pm ] |
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Brilliant! Loved the comment about Gay! | |
| Author: | abbeygirl [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 12:06 pm ] |
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And yet more acts........ The audience has settled back into their seats and at a signal from Ant a troupe of girls dressed smartly in blue march on to the stage. Their shiny trefoils sparkle in the fierce lights of the stage and the two flags they carry – one the Union Jack, the other the Guide flag - flutter in time to the marching. They stop and line up along the stage, whilst the three judges stare open mouthed at the really rather unexpected sight of a troop of Girls Guides. “Guides! Attention!” cries the Captain, and like a well oiled machine the Guides come smartly to attention and salute the three judges. Then, like the well trained and disciplined group they are, they wait silently and smartly for further orders. Simon looks a bit dumbfounded – never having come across a Girl Guide troop in a talent competition before – well actually never having come across a Girl Guide at all. In fact he had never been one for uniformed youth groups, although was to this day was always prepared. “So what – exactly is your act ladies?” he asked in polite bewilderment. Miss Carthew – Carty to her girls – for it was she, stepped forward a saluted smartly. “ The Chalet School Girl Guide troop will now give a demonstration of some of the skills required to be an efficient guide.” And with that she put whistle to lips and blew twice sharply. Instantly the girls scattered to their respective groups – each one demonstrating an aspect of guiding. The first group – right at the front of the stage were demonstrating First Aid – although whether it was necessary to use so much realism in supplying the group with a victim was – and indeed still is – a matter for debate. Nonetheless, the net result was that there was a great deal of blood which required efficient bandaging and some highly essential limb splinting at the end – so there was plenty for the audience to admire. However, the initial injury also had the effect of making the more sensitive members of the audience avert their gaze from the stage – and Amanda buzz rapidly. Meanwhile at the back of the stage a drill session was being conducted and this was very vigorous if shall we say a tad on the boring side, whilst a third group was busy laying a complicated series of tracks across the stage for the fourth group to decipher and follow. As you can imagine, this lost a little in translation from the great outdoors to a small stage. It is not actually clear why by the end of the performance – signalled by a further two sharp blasts of the whistle from the Captain – had not been accelerated by more buzzing, but both Piers and Simon still looked absolutely gobsmacked – so maybe shock had kept their fingers from doing the walking? As the troop eagerly awaited their comments though, Simon visibly pulled himself together and asked “Do you really think that was a suitable act to entertain the Royal Family with?” The guides and their captain looked a bit startled by the question. “But of course!” Carty answered, surprised that there could be any doubt. “The Royal Family are great admirers of the Guiding movement! And indeed their Majesties are actively involved in the Movement!” “Well I thought it was horrible!” cried the sensitive Amanda “Look! Your girls have even left blood on the stage. Ugh!” “I admit the gals might have got a bit carried away” admitted Carty “But you have to admire their keenness!” “I’m all in favour of having something a bit different ..….” began Piers and the guides faces brightened slightly. It was a only a temporary reprieve though as the third judge added “But that wasn’t it….” “So it’s three crosses then?” asked Simon and at the emphatic nods of his fellow judges broke the news to the guides. “Well!” exclaimed Carty in disgust. “Come on Girls!” And forming their lines once more (the two at the end having to carry the stretcher between them, as their First Aid victim was now unable to walk unaided) with flags once again flying proudly, the guides marched off the stage and out of the competition. The judges sat back thankfully in their seats and took a long pull at the glass of juniper flavoured water with ice and lemon that sat in a very large glass in from them. Then as they remembered the scream from the First Aid victim they took another – and another. “Ok boys” said Simon eventually as he waited for the effect of the water to kick in – “Wheel on the next one..” A large piano stood centre stage now and a slightly built girl with a thick mop of untidy curly brown hair and grey eyes in a bright, square chinned face came forward. “And who are you?” asked Dec In a soft, pretty voice, the girl answered “Margia Stevens” “Hello Margia! And what will you be performing for us this evening?” chipped in Ant “I shall start with a little song I composed for our beloved Madame – the founder and first headmistress of the school – on her birthday.” The audience cheered at the mention of Madame – a conditioned response that Margia had cleverly relied upon whilst introducing her act. She sat down at the piano and began: “I sing the charms of Margaret, sweet and kind, No fairer maiden ever graced this day; The richest pearl she is that man could find. It is thy birth-morn! Sweeting, come away.” The air was as simple as the words, but with a certain freshness which covered one or two rather glaring mistakes in composition and once the final notes had died away, Margia let herself go – her fingers dancing across the keys in a compendium of Chalet School favourites. The audience were delighted and clapped and cheered as they recognized each familiar note and as the final chord sounded they leapt to their feet calling her name and “Final” at the same time. “Let the judges speak!” Dec implored and gradually the noise from the audience faded. “Well that was an outrageously successful manipulation of the audience!” began Simon “Very sneaky. I like it – well done!” and Margia’s face – which had fallen at the start of hearing his words – brightened up again. “It was lovely – just lovely” sniffed Amanda who had probably taken a tad too much water by this stage. “It wasn’t the best performance I’ve ever heard… but..” Piers was interrupted by the audience – very cross with him for daring to criticize their beloved Madame – or was it Margia… “Let me finish!” Piers said crossly. “I was going to say but that didn’t matter as it obviously came from the heart and the audience loved it. I’m going to say yes!” “And yes from me” sniffed Amanda again.. “You’ve got three yesses!” trilled Simon and Margia floated off the stage – at last her dreams were starting to become true! | |
| Author: | abbeybufo [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 12:57 pm ] |
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abbeygirl wrote:
The audience cheered at the mention of Madame – a
conditioned response that Margia had cleverly relied upon whilst
introducing her act. Love it!
Thanks Fi
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| Author: | PaulineS [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 2:40 pm ] |
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Thank you for a laugh at the thought of the guides and Simon!! Not to speak of Amanda's response to the blood. | |
| Author: | Lesley [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 5:50 pm ] |
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Love the first aid victim! | |
| Author: | jilianb [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 7:01 pm ] |
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This gets better & better. Wonder who was the first-aid victim?? | |
| Author: | Jennie [ Mon Jun 09, 2008 8:44 pm ] |
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Jo perhaps? It might have been the only way to stop her coming back to the school. | |
| Author: | Fiona Mc [ Tue Jun 10, 2008 5:23 am ] |
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at the
Girl Guides. Loved Margia | |
| Author: | Abi [ Tue Jun 17, 2008 1:38 pm ] |
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Loved the First Aid! | |
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