Not so much of the Big Bird, Ron, else the Management might be invoked
Just then there was a commotion. Enter, stage left, a burly Badger with a striking resemblence to Bryn Terfel, dragging a battered chaise-longue. He was followed by a Stoat who was chirruping incessently.
"Ere, wot you doing?" she enquired with a toothy grin
"Just wait" replied Badger, disappearing off to return in dark glasses and a folding canvas chair.
"Wot's all this about then?" enquired Stoat, inquiringly.
"That" replied Stoat pointing to the chaise-longue "is me casting couch and this" pointing to the folding canvas chair "is me Director's chair" and these, he said, pointing to his shades "Are Cool, Rayburns they is, got them from Kevin the Taxi Driver"
"Oh, now I know you is joking" replied Stoat "Kevin's Taxi is an old Asda trolley pulled by weasels who have to stop every 15 minutes for a smoke break cos they do have run out of puff!"
Badger eyed Stoat sternly from behind his shades "So, you don't want to be considered for my new production of Francesca da Rimini then?"
"Wot, Rachmaninov?" squeaked Stoat, her mind already flitting to what costume she might wear, hmm, midnight aubergine velvet, low cut, skirt maybe cut on the bias, high heeled lace up boots ...... Oh Francesca, Francesca .... and with that she scuttled away to find her libretto and some chicken feathers to wear in her hair. Might rob a few nests whilst she was about it.
Film scripts Tommo? Don't know what you mean
