Me: Oh my goodness. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

Nell: Yes, even Ron Gilbert shed a tear when Jim presented those red roses to Harriet.

Me: I know.

Nell: David’s encore with Gladys and the chihuahuas was a little over the top. Throwing three in the air at one time. Reckless behaviour.

Me: It was exciting.

Nell: Rocky Martin and Rita Pawreno danced an amazing salsa. Anton called me to say they should be on Strictly.

Me: And all the cast joined in.

Nell: Yes, one of the Dartmouth Dachsunds slipped a disc and a Bichon Frise swallowed a sequin.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: I warned them to take it easy but they got carried away.

Me: Along with the audience.

Nell: Yes, I enjoyed the corgis doing the conga and those Cavalier King Charles Spaniels did a very passable cha-cha.

Me: Whatever will you all do next?

Nell: Well, Hamilton approached me about David as he thought he would suit his rap musical. I said David is an excellent rapper but he is simply too young.

Me: Do you mean Lin-Manuel Miranda?

Nell: No. I mean Hamilton Hound, Rupert’s brother. The only Miranda I know is that funny girl with the small friend. She has Poppy and I in stitches. Do keep up.

Me: Yes, sorry.

Me: Where are the puppies?

Nell: Harriet is having a strong word with David about yesterday’s dress rehearsal.

Me: Why?

Nell: The improvisation at the end was beyond belief.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Bernardo does not return as a ghost to join in the finale.

Me: No.

Nell: Especially wearing sequins and wire flying. I thought Rupert was going to spontaneously combust.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Ron Gilbert fell off his ladder.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: He narrowly missed squashing a chihuahua.

Me: Goodness.

Nell: The surfers all applauded of course and Jim and the farm dogs thought it was hilarious.

Me: It does sound funny.

Nell: But it was not supposed to be and it ruined Harriet’s moment.

Me: Yes, I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset her and it won’t happen again.

Nell: It better not. We are completely sold out.

Me: Really?

Nell: Yes, we had a last minute booking from the Whippets Institute. They are sending a couple of coach loads.

Me: They are awfully good at making jam, aren’t they? Is Poppy a member?

Nell: Poppy is not a whippet and I don’t even know if they like jam. What are you talking about?

Me: My mistake. Sorry.

Nell: I must say that young poodle with the dreadlocks took a surprisingly good photo.

Me: You look wonderful.

Nell: I wasn’t sure about giving the Daily Growl an exclusive but now I am glad I did.

Me: Yes, people are going to flock to see the show.

Nell: I’ve allowed the local press access to this evening’s dress rehearsal. The Torquay Terrier, The Paignton Pooch, The South Hams Hound, and The Kingsbridge and Salcombe Gazelle.

Me: I wonder why it’s a gazelle.

Nell: Don’t we all. Anyway, where are the rest of the papers? Poppy is preparing our Sunday roast so I thought I might indulge in a cup of Earl Grey and catch up with the latest news before The Archers.

Me: Good idea.

Nell: Hopefully our cast slept well after last night’s shenanigans.

Me: I did enjoy the dancing and fancy the Australian cattle dogs bringing a didjeridoo.

Nell: Awful thing. Sounded like a wounded sea lion.

Me: How do you know that?

Nell: From my time at the BBC, of course. David and I filmed an award winning documentary in Galapagos a few years ago.

Me: I never knew Dave was in Galapagos?

Nell: Not our David. Is he likely to be filming wildlife documentaries? Try and be a little realistic. David Attenborough.

Me: Yes, of course. Sorry.

Me: Oh dear. I know that look.

Nell: It’s one thing after another at the moment.

Me: Why?

Nell: Poppy packed a small picnic for Gladys and the chihuahuas to take to this morning’s rehearsal.

Me: That’s kind. Just a few snacks, then?

Nell: No, a proper picnic, but small. Fairy cakes, tiny sandwiches, mini quiches.

Me: I see. Lovely.

Nell: Not really. The farm dogs ate them.

Me: The chihuahuas?

Nell: No, the picnic. You fool.

Me: I was worried for a moment.

Nell: David and the surfers got involved and so did Jim and the farm dogs. There was a lot of name calling and shouting about canapés and poor starving chihuahuas. A few fairy cakes were thrown.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: But now they’ve all arranged to meet on the beach later.

Me: For a Rumble? I knew it. There is going to be a fight and Jim’s brother Ruff will die and Jim will stab David and he will die and then someone, I’m not sure who, will shoot Jim and he will die.

Nell: Excuse me?

Me: And Harriet will be left alone singing sadly about “Somewhere” and everyone will be very sorry, especially Gladys who told a wicked lie.

Nell: Good grief! Have you been drinking? Calm down. They are just having a barbecue on the beach. Jim and the farm dogs apologised and have organised it for everyone so we can relax before the dress rehearsal tomorrow. Honestly, you get carried away sometimes.

Me: Can I come?

Nell: Only if you promise to behave. Ron Gilbert is bringing the Australian cattle dogs as they know their way around a barbecue.

Me: Well, if we are having a barbie this arvo then I’d better put a few beers in my Esky.

Nell: If that was your attempt at Australian slang I would stop right now. You are an embarrassment. You have been watching far too many episodes of “Neighbours”.

Me: Yes, sorry.