I went inside to the kitchen and got a cup and saucer, a plate and napkin, and hurried back to them.

“I’ve been giving your act a lot of thought,” the QB said to Charlie. “In fact, I’ve hardly slept a wink.”

“What are you thinking?” Charlie said.

“Well, I made it my business to watch every bit of Dame Edna on YouTube and her Web site and anything else I could dig up, and suddenly I have a much better understanding of what you’re after. Suzanne’s idea, of course,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Forgive this old bee, but I’ve never given two minutes of thought to the difference between drag queens and female impersonators. I live on Sullivan’s Island and the subject seldom comes up in conversation. But coming here and meeting Suzanne and seeing what you’re doing and then Dame Edna? Honey? That guy is the glue that put it all together for me!”

“Hallelujah!” Charlie said. “He’s making wads of money and having a ball while he’s doing it!”

“But here’s what he’s got that you don’t.”

“What?” I said.

Charlie held his breath.

“He’s got a shtick!” Momma said. “That’s Yiddish for having your own act.”

“I know that,” Charlie said.

“Actually, I knew that, too,” I said.

“Well, Suzanne explained it all to me,” the QB said. “We stayed up watching Dame Edna until I understood what it was I was watching.”

“Dame Edna is the gold standard,” Charlie said.

“Agreed,” Bee said. “Suzanne agrees, too. Here’s the thing. Dame Edna’s been entertaining family and friends by dressing up in all sorts of costumes since she was a child. She has extensive history in theater and film, which you don’t have.”

“He was our drum major with our marching band,” I said, hoping to add some credibility to Charlie’s résumé. “And we know he’s a helluva lip-syncer.”

“These are helpful, but they are not the things that will catapult our sweet Charlie to the big league. But we came up with something that might.”

“Well, for the love of all that’s good and holy, spill it!” Charlie said.

“You lip-sync Cher’s songs, and these are your favorites, correct?”

“Yes,” Charlie said.

“What if you were her identical twin sister, who actually wrote all those songs and Cher stole them, having heard you singing them in the shower?”

“What?” I said. “That’s crazy.”

“No, it isn’t. Think about it,” Momma said, stirring cream into her coffee like one of Macbeth’s witches tending the cauldron. “If you have a character that’s only yours, then you can build a shtick around it!”

“Dame Edna calls her fans possums and refers to her outrageous eyeglasses as face furniture,” Charlie said.

“So what if you compared Cher having sex with Sonny to landing on an aircraft carrier?”