The Moatman Interviews -S1- No.2 The Reverend (@Ironhip1)

Hello my darlings, it's me, Boff Moatman here with another of my celebrity twitter interviews. Today's guest to Wimbledon Common is a raconteur, Do or die action man, and all round lovely chap. yes, The Reverend or as the kids on the street call him @Ironhip1. The Rev and I have known each other for many years but when he arrives at the Common I decide to help us relax and warm up we should recreate the wrestling scene from 'women in love'. While the Rev isn't troubled by nude male wrestling he thought we should spare the wombles blushes, so we slipped into our cossies and went a few rounds. The Rev is surprisingly limber and agile, and soon had me pinned in a crab for the three count. After our wrestling session we catch our breath with a refreshing glass of dandelion and burdock and a bag of frazzles each on the lawn before retiring to the conservatory for our interview. The Rev ever the gent insists on giving each of the wombles a sherbet fountain each before we get to the weighty topics of the day.

Reverend, as a local country vicar you must have seen your fair share of scandal, do you have any juicy stories to tell us?
Well boffy, juicy is a very apt word you see, a few years back, I was walking though my cider orchard, keeping an eye out for urchins and scrumpers and such like, when I happened across some muted cries of ecstasy coming from behind the apple press. My interest piqued, I examined this subtle cacophony, only to discover my gardner, Stump, playing strip suduko with my housekeeper Mrs Gusset! Both as naked as cupid and as drunk as sailors. The scandal rocked the W.I. and the turnip society for months. Unfortunately the cider house had to go to pay for Mrs Gussets divorce settlement. I barely survived the inquisition.

How dreadfully awful and of cause you were close friends with both of them, that must have put you in a terrible position? *The Rev nods ruefully* The Rev now a respected vicar for many years came to the priesthood later in life, first having an active career as an anthropologist digging up various artifacts in far flung countries. I'm keen to know more about the Reverend before his life at the seminary. So then Rev,my researchers tell me before becoming a priest you were something of a tearaway yourself, did you get into many scrapes?

Unfortunately My early days were interspersed with my collar being felt by teachers and the boys and girls in blue. Nothing too serious you must understand, rather high spirited and mischievous pig wrestling and piracy on the boating lake at the manor. That is where I met the current Mrs Rev. I stormed her punt and took her hostage. I demanded 10 sherbet fountains, a jet and jelly for tea. Unfortunately Mrs Revs father was having none of it and told me to keep her as she scared the horses.

I see and is it true you once crossed the Moroccan border in a Morris Minor, with a pocket full of cut diamonds and an ape as your co-pilot? that must have been scary?
Blimey, your researchers are very good. Mi6 Still have those files tucked away somewhere. Yes that is true, the diamonds were a payment from my involvement in orchestrating a military coup in Chiswick and the overthrow of the despot fat George who ran the local roller disco. The monkey ( referred henceforth as agent flea) accompanied me as he was fluent in Morracan, Sudanese and cockney. Flea unfortunately stole the diamonds and is now to be found in Montego Bay with the PG tips chimps and Robbie Coltraine.

You had quite the dare devil lifestyle, but then you found god and chose the priesthood, where exactly did you find him?
Good question and one I often get asked. I found the lord at the bottom of a bottle. The miracle happened whilst I was partying hard in Rhyl and whilst downing my third bottle of blue nun, I nearly choked on a dog collar that the Nuns must have slipped in during the fermentation process. Never one to miss an opportunity, I popped it on, blagged my way into St Mary of the glare Vicar school and after a wimple or two found myself here at the Mansion house, lord of all I survey. Perfik

Indeed! and my researchers also tell me that you may have been part of a covert underground tactical squad, going by the name big daddy hannibal?? do you still have crime fighting desires?
Well, I don't like to talk about my glory days in the royal auxiliary balloon corps but you are right. I worked alot under cover. Mainly as a one legged bavarian milk maid called Bernard. I no longer harbour desires to fight crime, as Mrs Rev tells me that slip on shoes with socks and shorts Do not inspire confidence amongst the public or indeed His honor Judge Fister. Sad really

There's a sad rueful look on the Rev's face after that last question, clearly daring do is still in the chap's heart even now after hanging up his fedora and bullwhip. So Instead I decide to change the topic to something else I know the Reverend holds dear to his heart. Now Rev like all good vicars you produce your own alcohol up at the vicarage. Apparently the home brewed puchine you made went with quite a bang at the village fair?
Oh yes, we produce not only Cider but our own version of jagermeister. The ladies of the choir thought it was a throat loosening tonic, and polished off 6 bottles before the error was realised. To everyones horror, they ended up dressed as the rocky horror cast and belted out smack my bitch up and the sex pistols god save the queen. The parish council had to convene to establish a cover up. Disastrous.

....and you regularly attend the summer fetes at Crinkly Bottom. Have you ever met Noel Edmonds and what did you think of him?

Mr Edmunds is a lovely fellow, bit short for my liking and his hair appears to have been donated by some badger with a Peter stringfellow fixation, but he donates well to the retired vergers home and helps lining the slurry pits when a storm is due. 13 toes you know!

... is it true you challenged Mr Blobby to an arm wrestling contest as a matter of honour?

That blobby swine. Honor my backside! That cad blind sided me and goosed Mrs Rev in the undercroft! It is all I could do not to let my security guard Burt (87) from giving his hide a tanning! The arm wrestling was a showpiece and I beat the bounder fair and square... although Mrs Rev did have a toasting fork pressed against his nadgers under the table.

Delightful stuff! I'm sure he had it coming, now one more thing Sir, your street name is Ironhip? is that reference to your ill-fated sporting career?
Unfortunately Yes my friend. Captained the knockers 15 rugby team, in the loose bottom finals Northern division. Went on to Ski for the Cheddar Gorge sliders, reaching the world cup ski off in Lincolnshire. Bit flat there, so I invented butter shoes, down the Marks and Spensers escalator. It went down hill from there and I busted my hip whilst colliding with the eyeliner and facial stalls, very messy, but I looked fabulous in A+E.

Finally Rev, we'd like to know what's in store for you next? presumably you have a busy summer calendar lined up?
This summer will be filled with fêtes, marriages and re-roofing the porsch... Ahem I mean the church roof. I am also involved in establishing a new world order where brown sauce is compulsory on saussage sandwiches, and men must wear hats and doff them gallantly to passers by. Oh and of course anyone who wears their trousers half way down their backsides are to be immediately taken to scotland and introduced to Kilts and a biting North wind.

Thank you Reverend, that's brilliant. Well as another interview draws to a close the Reverend very kindly invites me to sample a crate of his homemade scrumpy and a game of backgammon that lasts until the wee small hours. The Reverend when not attending church can be found on twitter under his street name @ironhip1 teaching morals to the local street punks.