This apex of amusement did not take place at the Pleasance Courtyard, C Venues, the Underbelly, Udderbelly, Overbelly, Bellyflop, Wellybelly or any other Fringe venue. It was not part of the paid-for or free Fringe or the grand finale of a street performance by someone with dreadlocks. In fact it had nothing whatsoever to do with any of the zillions of shows taking place in Portakabins, sheds, alleys, tents and holes across the city. There was no press release, no flyer, no warning.
My friends were mooching about near Victoria Street when it happened. A woman was walking along when suddenly her legs went from under her and she was flying backwards into the air, a look of shock and surprise etched across her face. A quick-thinking companion darted forward and half-managed to break the woman's fall but could not save her dignity. They looked down to see what had caused this unexpected trip and there it was: a banana skin. Someone actually slipped on a banana skin. The entire street erupted with mirth. Six stars.
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