Davey Doodah can’t sing to save his life but he finds it very hard to stop smiling. Even though he wouldn’t know the meaning of either of the following words, his enthusiasm is certainly infectious. As he sways slightly in front of the microphone encouraging the audience to put their hands in the air, Davey truly looks like the epitome of pop star perfection.
Daphne Doodah bashes, waves, whacks and whirls her silent tambourine. Daphne isn’t aware that the tambourine can’t make a sound but it doesn’t matter anyway. A simple fact like this would never stop her from really shaking it really, really hard over her head in a shiny, shimmering shower of silvery silent notes.
Deirdre Doodah sings and dances as if every performance is her last. This would probably be the case were there ever to be a power cut during a performance, and so Doodah’s record company spends at least fifty percent of its budget on ensuring that the various digital enhancements designed to make a Doodah concert the pleasurable experience it is do not ever malfunction while the group are ‘live’ on stage.
Nobody would pay money to hear what Doodah really sounded like. There would be riots on the streets and questions asked in parliaments all around the world.