CRICK! CRACK! CRICK! CRACK! However enough about my back problems. If you are sitting comfortably (well one of us needs to be), then I shall begin. On a fair and splendid evening in the month of Februarius, the hero of our story took a trip to the theatre in a beautiful pea green coat. His destination did hold many tales so bold, from storytellers both young and old. Beneath the Derngate there lays a space they call the underground. This is no Piccalilli or Paddington silly, there are no trains here to behold. On this day the space was filled with tables and chairs that lay quite scattered around. Little tea lights glittered upon each table while a waitress wandered around. The Open Mic Story Night was an opportunity for keen individuals to get up in front of the mic (there was no mic!) and have a go at storytelling. My first experience of storytelling as an art form had come just a month earlier with Fairytales For Grown Ups and it has been a fascinating ex...