We think this was the result of an improv induced migrane.
Leaping, handspring style, onto the Gilded Balloon stage from the auditorium, attempting to land on my knees, but undershooting considerably, and foolishly. There is still a dent in my shin.
A week of Showstopper workshops has passed by and this chap has appeared on my elbow. Who knows when this occurred. Perhaps while I was a school student in a wormhole. Or a rabbit in a warren. Or a nurse in the loveliest hospital in the world.
From now on, bruises shall be accounted for. Perhaps certain characters get more bruises.
I shall be documenting my own and those of other improvisers at the Fringe.