"So how do you plan to get Greg's attention huh?" Ryan mused as he and Colin approached the club where Greg Proops was doing stand-up. "Streak across the stage and lasso him with silk scarves? Knock him out cold with a pineapple and drag him into a getaway car? Or maybe you're gonna dress as a woman, seduce him and take him back to your hotel room?"
          "What's wrong with you?" Colin replied horrified. "I'll talk to him after the show…I do actually like Greg's stand-up," he added.
          "Oh…So do I," Ryan mumbled unconvincingly.
          Colin and Ryan ordered drinks and found a table at the back where they hoped to stay unrecognised.

          Greg Proops peeked out at the forming array of fans. He felt his usual nervous jitters, although he wondered why since he'd been doing the same thing for years. One would think he'd be over it by now.
          He adjusted his glasses, took a deep breath and went straight into his usual false bravado as he sauntered on stage.
          Greg had been on stage for about 20 minutes and it was turning out to be one of his best shows. That was until a large bearded man took the opportunity to heckle and the whole situation turned to shit.
          "YOU'RE A DICKHEAD BUDDY," yelled the bearded man.
          Greg, being Greg, couldn't let this insult (although totally lame) pass and responded simply with, "Hey Pavarotti, get a new writer you inbred hick."
          The bearded man saw red and threw an empty beer can at Greg, Greg ducked and felt it sail over him, however he wasn't prepared for the next one which hit him square in the forehead. Infuriated, Greg hurled the only thing in his reach (the microphone) at beardy and ended up hitting a young woman, who slumped off her chair onto the floor.
          What proceeded could only be described as a small riot.
          "I suppose we should save his ass," Colin sighed, getting to his feet as a plate of fries flew past and crashed into a wall.
          "Hey!" Ryan squeaked, getting to his feet. "I'll just get a bouncer," he added and turned to leave.
          "Oh come on, don't be such a girl," Colin groaned, dragging Ryan across the floor.
          They were nearly at the safety of the stage door when Ryan was clobbered in the head with a six pack of empty beer cans. He let out several obscenities.
          "WOOHOO I GOT THE TALL GUY," yelled a young man from the crowd.
          It took all Colin's strength to hold Ryan back and drag him backstage.
          They found their way to the side of the stage and watched Greg flinging and dodging various items. It was Ryan who saw beardy with the ashtray first and pointed it out to Colin.
          "Someone's got to warn him," Colin gasped.
          "He'll never hear us above the racket," Ryan spat.
          "Well you better run out there and save him then," Colin ordered.
          "ME? I'm the closest thing they have to a target," Ryan whined.
          "Oh be a man," Colin huffed and pushed Ryan onto the stage.
          With more fear for his personal safety than Greg's, Ryan looked back at beardy who was preparing to throw the ashtray. Ryan's eyes went wide; it was now or never. He bolted across the stage toward Greg who was totally oblivious to the ashtray nearing his head. When he got close enough Ryan took a flying leap and in a tackle that would have made any footballer proud, and knocked Greg to the stage. The ashtray flew into the back of the set and broke.
          "Ryan what the hell are you doing here?" Greg gasped, rubbing the back of his head.
          "Saving your ass," Ryan snapped, getting to his knees.
          "My ass didn't need saving…I had the situation perfectly under control," Greg huffed.
          "Yeah, just like President Bush has control over Afghanistan," Ryan hissed and marched off stage.
          Greg got to his feet; feeling relieved that a cheap ashtray hadn't removed his brains and yet pissed that his ability to handle such a situation had been questioned. He pondered whether to follow Ryan and then a full can of beer missed him by millimetres and the decision was made.
          Off stage he was shocked to find Colin was there too, glaring at him like he was a naughty child.
          "Col how's it going dude?" Greg perked.
          "Well Greg it would be going a lot better if one of the world’s best improvers hadn't created a riot and nearly had his head sliced open by an ashtray," Colin scowled and then clipped Greg around the ear.
          "Hey, when did you get so nasty?" Greg gasped.
          "Since I discovered how many people think I want to have sex with Ryan," Colin hissed.
          Ryan looked horrified at the suggestion.
          "So is there a reason you're here? Not stalking me are you?" Greg half-mused while rubbing his head again.
          "I'm resurrecting Whose Line," Colin smirked.
          "Call me insane…but isn't that a tad illegal?" Greg said pointedly.
          "You have a problem with that?" Colin asked.
          "Who me? No…but I'm surprised you don't," Greg replied, not hiding the shock from his voice.
          "So you'll be at Drew's tomorrow night?" Colin smiled.
          "Of course," Greg nodded warily.
          "I knew I could count on you," Colin perked and began making his way toward the exit.
          Greg turned to Ryan
          "Is he on like some new kind of drugs or something?" he asked.
          "How the hell should I know?" Ryan replied.
          "'Cos man if he is…I want some," Greg gasped shaking his head.