Hello! Hello! And welcome back, no your eyes don’t deceive you, I am a dog in a dinner suit sat next to what looks like Santa in his tweed civvies, on a maroon leather couch that looks like it was stolen from the set of Twin peaks. This is what light entertain has come down to people, and I ask you *adopts Russel Crowe voice* are you not entertained!! Welcome back to an evening with Boff Moatman, I’m honoured to be your host as we gently probe through the moist parts of Boff’s cerebral cortex. Before the break we heard about how Boff and I met, and got to the meaty topics like what would Boff name a pigeon, and how he likes to impose himself on French people. So If you’re reading this you’ve clearly come back for more of the same. Good.
Now before the break we heard from Auntie Em who wanted to know what a Womble actually is, but you haven’t heard yet about when I first met them. I remember the first time I came to Maison de Moatman and I was met by the suspicious noses of Great Uncle Bulgaria and Bungo, maybe it was my Lynx Java or the remains of bolognese matted into my chest hair but they were not happy of my presence at all, as we quietly sipped sherry I noticed Bungo's record collection and was instantly drawn to a mint 12" remix of The Locomotion by Kylie, his eyes lit up at my approval and he placed it eagerly on the Matsui and whacked it up to ten. That night we danced and drank till sunrise, they both still greet me with the same suspicion all these years later but once Boff puts his gold Spinning Around hot pants on and the twister comes out we know we've got another party.
Oh Jesus! (Sweary Jesus looks up from his phone in the executive box), sorry Sweary, that must be an occupational hazard for you. I’d forgotten all about Bungo’s “Kylie Phase”, he’s usually a drum n bass kind of guy, which drives me up the wall, literally, he has the bedroom next to me. But I remember the first time he saw Kylie on neighbours and a little bit of drool ran down his chin. When the music video for ‘locomotion’ came out, he taped it and watched it so many times that he broke the VCR. The others were not happy. But even now, if I need him to mellow out all I have to do is don a pair of gold hot pants and wiggle about to some Kylie and he goes off to dreamy land. It’s quite hypnotic really. *Boff laughs as he remembers the moment*, cause I also remember those silver hot pants you got so you could join…. *Sweaty nervously laughs* “Ahhh what a great time we had Boff, Club Tropicana, and 2lt bottles of Lilt for 80p”.
Okay, anyway, enough of us, as you know we’re big on audience participation here, so now it’s time for a few more questions from our guest audience, Kachela (@KachelaMurray) has been patiently waiting to ask you a hypothetical question”
The camera cuts to the third row in the centre block where Mr and Mrs Murray are enjoying a few cheeky alcohol beverages. Hello Boff! It’s lovely to be here, I hope you’re enjoying this too, so I have a hypothetical question for you, ahem, ‘Linda, the chief fish fryer from the local chippy has been giving you the glad eye for months, she’s just swiped right on your tinder profile, so where will you be taking her and what would you do to cement her affections?
The camera now moves down the row where in an end seat Tabitha Stirling (@Volequeen) is waiting, dressed glamorously in her best clobber, a glass of chilled wine in her hand. “Hello Boff! I must admit I wasn’t sure whether to get an executive box, but I can see you so much better from here, you’re looking very slim this evening if you don’t mind me saying”, says the Vole Queen. “Now, you already know of my somewhat dangerous background, a girl’s always got to be prepared in my line of work, so I wanted to ask, ‘If you were an assassin tasked to protect me, what would be your weapon of choice and why?’
Hello my darling! You look gorgeous as always, and thank you for your kind words *Boff and Sweaty compare girdles* - Sweaty comments that his came endorsed by William Shatner, if it’s good enough for the Shat, it’s good enough for me says Sweaty. Boff replies that he gets all of his girdles from Miss Selfridge, price competitive and pretty in pink. Anyway! Coming back to your question, I would have to say a French baguette, but not just any French baguette, it would have to be one covered in pre-sharpened sesame seeds, attached with a free range egg yolk. I don’t know if you’ve ever got bread crumbs from a French baguette in your eyes, but I can tell you it’s extremely sore. This is not the kind of weapon you would entrust to an amateur I can tell you my dear. *Sweaty nods, adding that bread is dangerous stuff, especially if you have wheat allergies”.
The camera now swings down to the front left segment, where Janine (@ThewriteSF) is sat holding a signed photo of one specific Womble. “Hello Boff! I hope you’re enjoying your time on stage, I wanted to say since our interview (it has almost been 2 years), I keep receiving these gifts in the post, I’m very flattered but I don’t think a human ~ womble relationship would work, could you let him down gently for me, oh and if you were an icecream flavour, what would you be and why?
Hello my darling! May I just say you’re looking radiant this evening and I can easily see why my young chap was so enamoured, but bless you, I’ll talk to him. As for your question, wow, I think if I were a flavour of ice cream I’d probably be marmite. I’m definitely a marmite kind of guy, some people love me and desperately want to smear me over everything, including themselves. Others can’t stand me, and lets be fair marmite flavoured ice cream would definitely be on the special menu, I could argue like other rogues of my generation, that I’m a product of my society, but that sounds like a load of old balls, I prefer to say I am Boff. Love me, hate me, but you’ll never forget me!
*Janine blushes* You are certainly that! And thank you!
The camera now swing back into the right-hand side of the audience where in the middle is sat our dear Reverend (@Ironhip1), “Hello Boff, it’s good to see you again my old mate, you’re looking well under the hot studio lights. I’m going to follow Kachela’s style and ask you a hypothetical question if that’s okay. So, it’s said that if you gave a hundred chimpanzees a hundred typewriters, that in enough time they would write the full works of Shakespear, so I wanted to ask if you had a 100 chimps, what would you like them to write and why?”
“Ah Reverend! Come and get some bro love” exclaims Boff, beckoning the Rev down to the stage. The Reverend comes up on stage hugging Sweaty and Boff, before joining Boff on the Maroon couch. “It’s quite soft this couch, I’m slowly sinking into the thing” explains Boff. Well, in terms of your question, I think there’s so many good books out there that could be given a Simian twist. Although I’d love to see what would happen if you asked the 100 chimps to re-write the script for the ‘Rise of the planet of the apes’, would they have a better insight to the chimp mindset, I bet you they would. But you were asking about books weren’t you, so if we’re sticking to literature, I’d have to go with ‘Dracula’, I would love to see how the 100 chimps would re-write Dracula with a Chimp-based vampire novel, I bet you it would be brilliant. Hahahha
Sweaty, Ironhip and Boff, laugh and exchange comments, before Ironhip hugs Sweaty and Boff and leaves the stage to return to his seat in the audience. “Oh, this is quite emotionally really, isn’t it Sweaty, such a lovely bunch of people’ says Boff. “Okay mate, now, lets get back to our story, there’s one topic yet that we haven’t broached….
A question Boff gets asked a lot is what does he do for a living, I'm sworn to secrecy but what I can say is his name is Moatman...Boff Moatman, I can't say any more than that but let's just say he likes his Lambrini shaken not stirred. I swore I'd never talk about his ejector seat on his moped or his luxurious canoe docked at Cannes, as one of his closest friends I can't talk about his Nissan Almera that turns into a boat or about the fat Chinese bloke who keeps trying to kill him with his hat. Let's just leave it at that eh!
Oh Sweaty! You promised you wouldn’t tell *laughs Boff*, well as a man approaching the winter of my life, much like the Game of Thrones, I’m more semi-retired these days. When I was a younger man with the energy of say a young Austin Powers or possibly David Bellamy, I could whizz round town on my motorbike complete with side car, like some kind of Cockney Rebel. I’d give that young Roger Moore a run for his money. I’ve not got where I am today without wrestling with a few under world crime bosses in seedy backstreet kitchens, and I don’t mean coming face to face with Mr Oliver’s turkey twizzler either.
Ahhh, you are a scamp my darling, in terms of what scares me, spiders obviously, confined spaces, heights, being trapped in a glass-bottomed lift with spiders over a cliff wouldn’t be great. But I think if we’re going to analyse fear, and I think that’s what you’re asking, we need to really dig deep into the psychology of things. So I have all your Wilde-an fears about not being loved and respected by my peers, the Freudian fears that I’ll wake up one morning to find my penis has been replaced by a rubber chicken; but I think if you want to get to the really bone chilling stuff, then the knowledge that all existence and human civilisation is merely a product of chaotic evolution, and that we are utterly alone in the Universe. Moreover, that because we are a product of that chaotic evolution, everything we say and do is utterly meaningless and without merit, that will be quickly forgotten when our human bodies are consigned to empty nothingness. In effect, that we are merely a blip in an endless empty eternity, but of cause we all know that’s completely ridiculous, right?
*Your Demon shrieks with laughter, cupping herself and winking at Boff, before doing a ‘call me’ sign with her hands*, the camera then jerkly moves diagonally down to the left, where several rows nearer the front the boys from ‘visit wakefield’ (@visit_wakefield) are sat proudly with their ‘Visit_wakefield’ badges on their lapels. “bloody hell Boff, what was that all about, Helen Worth would have shat her pants if she’d seen that”, they say, “Okay, our question was simply, If you had one day left on the planet and you had unlimited money, what would you do?”
Wow, you saved all the deep philosophical questions to the end. That’s a really tough one to answer actually. The noble and sentimental part of me wants to say that I would probably spend it with my immediate family and friends, somewhere beautiful, with good food and live music. If travel time wasn’t the issue, maybe I would spend it in Tibet with the monks trying to find inner enlightenment in my last few hours, so that I was ready to meet my maker. But then again, you know me, all too well actually. If I had 24 hours left to live and unlimited funds, I fear my last day on earth would probably not be unlike the music video for the Prodigy song ‘smack my bitch up’, ahem. That probably says more about me than it does you doesn’t it? *Sweaty interjects* Is that the one where at the end it turns out to be a girl? “yes, mate” replies Boff. “That video is mental, that would be a heck of a night out though Boff”, says Sweaty.
The camera now pans to the back part of the left-hand side block of seats, where a clown is sat trying to stretch up to reach the sound-boom. JB (@JB1971_) waves to camera “hey guys, don’t worry Boff, I’ve got my toe under control today” says JB cryptically. “I wanted to ask Boff whether he has ever had birds nesting in his beard? Did that really happen?”
Ah JB, I’m glad to hear that your cheeky little toe is back underwraps, it must be a bind having talking body parts. Still, it never held Cyndi Lauper back, ahem. So anyway to your question, I’m sorry to say that’s an urban myth, much as I’m sure my beard would make a lovely home for any prospective birdy couple, it simply has never happened. I think the rumour originates from a day out at the seaside I had. I was enjoying a day out on Brighton beach, a cone of chips in hand, and while eating, a chip missed my mouth and got stuck in my beard. For beard wearers this is unfortunately a common problem, which is why cleanliness really is next to godliness. In this case I didn’t notice the mistake, but a seagull did, and I ended up with the feathery bastard wedged in my beard, wings flapping all over the place. It was quite distressing for all concerned, but it did make the evening news in Brighton, and that’s where I think the myth started.
*Sweaty gets up from his armchair and walks back to centre stage* “Okay, and with that this evenings events are drawing to a close, the band have kindly agreed to play us out with one of their classic tunes. We’d like to invite our audience to come down and join us on stage as we shake our funky thangs. So with that, here’s Duran Duran again with their hit ‘Wild Boys’”. *The camera zooms out as people flood down from the audience to enjoy the music and congratulate Boffy and Sweaty on a job welldone.*
No comments:
Post a Comment