ANYONE with the nerve to rhyme ‘Chaucer’ with ‘saucer’ as they do a total rewrite job with this English language classic certainly gets my vote.

And it gets worse… brilliantly so, in fact. Hence ‘reliable’ goes with ‘Bible’, ‘trumpet’ is matched with ‘crumpet’ and too much ‘quaffing’ inevitably leads to ‘coffin’.

So as you have now probably guessed, writer Phil Woods has thrown a brick through this particular literary greenhouse, shattering all those cumbersome consonants and phonetic funnies that are the hallmark of the original works.

Essentially, this is a late 15th century rap, the ‘hood’ being something you wear rather than the term for one’s place of residence.

Nevertheless, director Chris Jaeger is at pains to point out that that the only liberty taken is with the actual words - for the updated script stays absolutely true to the moralising storyline.

This is without doubt an extremely amusing production. Worcester Repertory Company has fielded its top team, seven magnificent mediaeval marvels who serve up a banquet of non-stop fun.

Oliver Brooks and Jonathan Darby give us knights to remember as Tim Watson leaves us with the impression that he’s more chain than alpha male. Meanwhile, Liz Grand delivers a frighteningly formidable Wife of Bath, providing a crone-like counterpoint to Rob Leetham’s court fool.

This was Natasha Karp’s first outing with the company and it was astounding to see how effortlessly she morphed from comely maid to hellish hag. Special mention should also be made of Gemma Martyn Smith, who not only switched from narrator to chicken with astonishing ease, but also brought up the rear in more ways than one.

And oiling the wheels of all this frenetic frolicking was the superb musicianship of John Kirkpatrick and Paul Burgess, adding to the enjoyment of the night by bringing their consummate skills to the bar area during the interval.

However, just one question remains. Why was the word ‘Canterbury’ misspelled in the Powick competition poster… could it be that the ghost of Geoffrey Chaucer was having the last laugh? We may never know.