Theatrical Jokes

A recently deposed Eastern potentate (who shall remain unnamed) was known for his prowess in the harem-often entertaining no less than a dozen wives per night. Shorn of his crown and possessions, he was seeking employment and was overjoyed when an American theatrical agent signed him up to perform these same feats at certain choice and private showings. The contract was signed, bookings were scheduled and twelve delectable beauties hired for the premiere. The box-office was sold out. The audience waited eagerly, for they had paid ten dollars per ticket to see the fabulous potentate. A symphony orchestra struck up an overture, the lights dimmed, the curtains parted and the dozen lovelies were revealed, reclining on couches. The potentate stepped briskly out from the wings, bowed to the audience, then proceeded. Naturally, after such a build-up, the audience was disappointed when the great man fell flat on his face after taking pleasure with only four of the beauties. They howled for more...

The theatrical manager exclaimed: "Your last role was magnificent, Mr. Brown. You enacted so well that officer wounded on the battlefield. Your suffering looked very much like real." "It was. Ive got a large nail in my shoe." "Well," said the manager, "for heavens sake leave it in until the end of the run of the play."

The theatrical agent, trying to sell a new strip act to a nightclub manager, was raving about the girl's unbelievable 72-26-40 figure. "What kind of a dance does she do?" the manager asked, duly impressed by the description of the girl's dimensions.
"Well, she doesn't actually dance at all," the agent replied. "She just crawls out onto the stage and tries to stand up!"

The theatrical manager exclaimed: "Your last role was magnificent, Mr. Brown. You enacted so well that officer wounded on the battlefield. Your suffering looked very much like real." "It was. I've got a large nail in my shoe." "Well," said the manager, "for heaven's sake leave it in until the end of the run of the play."

A musical reviewer admitted he always praised the first show of a new theatrical season: "Who am I to stone the first cast?"