In 2007, Doggett
& Ephgrave briefly reinvented ourselves as the fictional experimental pop duo, Troy Matthews & Portakabin:
Portakabin were destined to only appear in two sketches; one featuring the Tory MP Peter Lilley, and another, better one, above. There was
little to it, save us miming / dancing to an amusing piece of music whilst
wearing a pair of uncomfortably tight roll-necks that belonged to Glyn’s
mum, but it made for a popular diversion, when slipped into the midst of a
mixed-bill line-up.
We rolled the second sketch out countless times between 2007-2009, mostly to success. It was the glue between the two sitcom pilots we stitched together to make our 2007 Etcetera Theatre show ‘Two’s Company…', as well as featuring in our sketch show ‘Comedy Job Lot’, performed at both the Etcetera and Soho Theatre in 2009. We’d also did it at the odd London sketch night and local music gig – and most memorably of all, at Edinburgh’s infamous late-night compilation show 'Spank!', where we provoked more confusion than amusement. The techie managed to mess up the audio cues that were vital to make the sketch work, leaving us both standing on stage in silence with metaphorical egg on our faces. Thankfully nobody knew who we were, as our pseudonym maintained our anonymity – and even if they did, they were probably too pissed to remember the mistake.
I’ve still got the jumper. Perhaps I’ll squeeze into it one day and pop over to Glyn’s house, in the hope of staging a Portakabin reunion - but would he remember the dance?
We rolled the second sketch out countless times between 2007-2009, mostly to success. It was the glue between the two sitcom pilots we stitched together to make our 2007 Etcetera Theatre show ‘Two’s Company…', as well as featuring in our sketch show ‘Comedy Job Lot’, performed at both the Etcetera and Soho Theatre in 2009. We’d also did it at the odd London sketch night and local music gig – and most memorably of all, at Edinburgh’s infamous late-night compilation show 'Spank!', where we provoked more confusion than amusement. The techie managed to mess up the audio cues that were vital to make the sketch work, leaving us both standing on stage in silence with metaphorical egg on our faces. Thankfully nobody knew who we were, as our pseudonym maintained our anonymity – and even if they did, they were probably too pissed to remember the mistake.
I’ve still got the jumper. Perhaps I’ll squeeze into it one day and pop over to Glyn’s house, in the hope of staging a Portakabin reunion - but would he remember the dance?