Onstage we had a fake telephone (oldsters will know what that was) for requests. the sign was located somewhere nearby and under the prop, with generous lashings of duct tape to keep it in place against the energetic slammages of the populace. You can gauge the extent of your body‘s entropic deterioration by correctly identifying the B-52s reference in the pic.

Poster-art made from another pic of the shoot.

Squids were all about merch. Intrinsic to each set was the Tee Shirt Pitch, typically delivered by a slime-voiced Rudy, background music provided by Guy Lombardo And His Royal Canadians performing "Third Man Theme," featuing running commentary on Rudy‘s pitch by the rest of the Squids. Uncannily, we sold a bunch.
Less popular, and much more anti-Merch, was the Big Note Songbook, although recently the estimably talented, totally-at-ease-with-thirty-second-notes Benny Rietveld requested (and got) his very own copy. Although money never changed hands, I consider it, 28 years after, our first sale.

Our first (casual) photo session, right after our first (fantastic) rehearsal, chez Frank: in the carport we came across two detached Renault-sized car doors. Voila -- instant proppage, plus our geleeful discovery that we all were hams of the first order. My honey Rubella (nee Gerry) feigns boredom, under the first appearance of the Very Useful Wig.