The Legend

LINK TO PRESS PACK

We had no idea how we were gonna do it.  But we were gonna do it.  We loved comedy and thought we could do a serviceable job at it.  We wanted to perform somewhere.  We had a starving artist aesthetic and a smirk on our faces. We didn’t need money, just gumption and a commitment to the funny.  We tried a bar but people talked over us and ignored us for the most part.  Mostly because we were interrupting Karaoke on Wednesdays.  We trudged on.  Personalities clashed.  People left the group.  Those of us who remained took a hiatus and rethought our style.

We simplified everything.  We had a two-car garage that we could perform in. We had some friends who liked to come laugh at our hi-jinks.  We had some costumes.   We had some wigs.  We wrote more scripts.  We had that guy crashing on our couch do some acting to help us out.  We found school desks, abandoned roadside furniture and old van seats to use as seating. We put the back row up on cement blocks, so they could see over the front row.  We christened our garage, “The Woodfin Theater Shack,” but everyone just called it “The Shed.”   We had no budget.  But we had beer and comedy for free.  People started coming. We could seat 23 and we did two shows so everyone could sit and watch what we did.  Show times varied…it was free after all.  People didn’t mind.  They still came.  In December we brought blankets so no one had to shiver too much.  We didn’t advertise.  We liked being mysterious.  A guy from the newspaper came to interview us.  We told him not to give away our location.    More people told other people.  Those people brought their friends out of sheer curiosity and hipster necessity.  Parking was suddenly at a premium.  The police came to call.  The neighbors complained.  Our perfect little punk rock theater had grown too popular.  Our yard was full of people watching the show through the garage windows.  We didn’t know most of these people.  We had to rethink our style again.

We auditioned people to help us.  Very funny people.  One of them even did film work and we were able to add film sketches to our repertoire.  We wrote even more scripts.  We were asked to perform regularly at a real theater.  “The Shed” was now for rehearsals only.  We bought more wigs.  Hilarious wigs.  We charged money for people to see us.  We sold out.  We sold out that theater and had to add more shows.  We had to turn people away.

That year things changed some.  Some of the original garage members left.  We had more auditions to find more funny people.  Great people.  People who were really committed to the final product without getting paid.  We also bought more wigs.  We had to.  Another sold out summer.  A bigger venue this year.  Every year the Chihuahuas get better.  Tighter shows, more production value, and bigger crowds.  Every year we have to work harder to make our ideas a reality, and every time we step on stage it’s worth it.  There are those who still come to our shows who used to see us in “The Shed” for free.  Hipster people who knew us when.  They’ll tell you some good stories about the birth of the Chihuahuas in a two-car garage.  Don’t taunt them, newbie, or you will regret it.

For you will feel the wrath of the Chihuahuas.  We will leave teeny piles of poop in our wake.  We will destroy your couch cushions.  We will hump your leg at inappropriate times.  We will do it all while wearing a horrible wig.  We…are the Feral Chihuahuas.