Mike peered out from the side of the stage, sweat forming on his brow. There were more people than he expected, and he was sure he recognised three or four familiar faces.
What was it they say? Think of your audience naked?
Mike scanned the expectant crowd and removed their garments one by one.
No more floral shirt for you, Mr. Levi. Say goodbye to your trousers, Aaron Aaronson. You don’t need that dress, Mrs Rosenthal!
The congregation gasped as Mike walked on stage. Though his clothing was loose, his proud erection approached the lectern several seconds before he did.
Hey, listen!
Written as part of Friday Fictioneers. Hosted by Rochelle with a new photo prompt every Wednesday. This week’s photo was supplied by Roger Bultot. Thanks, Roger!
Me. You. Coffee. 
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