Rhod Gilbert and the Award-Winning Mince Pie (2009) - full transcript

Ladies and gentlemen,

please welcome to the stage

Mr Rhod Gilbert!

- Hello!

- Hello!

- Hello!

- Hello!

Hello, good evening, Bloomsbury Theatre!

Are you well?

It's lovely to be here,

thank you all for coming.

Thank you all for coming.

This is a... is a...

a DVD recording,

as you may be aware,

of a show called Rhod Gilbert...

And The Award-Winning Mince Pie.

Yes. Which never gets a laugh.

When I wrote that, I was quite

happy with that, I'll be honest,

I thought that would get

the first important laugh.

You know, cos it's quite important,

the first one.

Cos you relax and you think, "This

bloke's not quite as shit as I'd heard."

And I relax and think you're not as bad as I

thought you might be, and everyone's happy,

but that title has dropped me in the shit

every time I've done it.

Not so much as a chuckle anywhere

in the country on 80 tour shows.

It's been a bit of a...

I was quite happy when I wrote it,

I thought, "Ctrl+S, save,

take the rest of the day off.

"That's a good day's work you've done."

It's quite funny, isn't it? Why didn't

you laugh when you had the chance,

you miserable prick?

You haven't even taken your jacket off!

Look at you! Get it off!

Are you gonna give it ten minutes, see if

it's any good and then bugger off if not?

Come on! Sorry, I'm too aggressive.

I've had too much coffee

and I'm quite a nervous performer.

I'm a very nervy character. This whole show

is about me having a nervous breakdown.

That's funnier than

the title, apparently!

Why didn't I call it

Gilbert Has A Nervous Breakdown?

You'd be in hysterics, wouldn't you,

you Schadenfreude idiots!

It's about me having a nervous breakdown

in Knutsford services

on the M6

over a mince pie, of all the things.

- Do you all know what a mince pie is?

- Yes.

There's no need to sound so patronised.

No, I've had Australians

who weren't sure what I was talk...

- Do we have any Australians in tonight?

- Yep.

Have we? Where are...?

Do you know what a mince pie is?

It's pretty much every meat pie.

"It's pretty much every mince pie"?

Every meat pie.

Don't get all philosophical on my arse now.

Don't forget you're Australian,

you're a simple folk.

What did you say?

"It's pretty much every mince pie"?

- A meat pie, did you say?

- Yeah, a meat pie!

You see, you laughed at me,

this is the problem. I wasn't patronising.

You think it's a big beef... I've brought along

a mince pie just for occasions like this.

For the simpletons in the audience.

This is the mince pie.

Are you familiar

with that kind of thing in Australia?

That's what caused the nervous...

You haven't seen it?

This is a little Christmas thing

that caused the nervous breakdown.

This isn't the original pie.

In case you're wondering. If anybody is

disappointed that this isn't the original.

If I'm completely honest,

this is a Bramley apple pie, this one.

Piss off! You try getting a mince pie

in London in June!

They're out of bloody season!

I kept the original pie for six months

to do this show, you see.

I kept it, I thought it'd be nice

for you to see the original, wouldn't it?

But I kept the... Wouldn't it?

Yes!

But then I made the mistake of

taking the original mince pie along.

It was the stupidest thing

I've ever done

because the show was in a place in the

Welsh Valleys called Ebbw bloody Vale.

Some of you know it, do you?

Have you been to Ebbw Vale?

It's rough as shit.

Not the kind of place you go

with a mince pie you care about.

I found that out the hard way. If you

don't know it, you might have seen it,

it's where they film Ross Kemp

In Afghanistan. Have you seen that?

That's where they film it,

on location near Ebbw Vale.

People don't realise that, you see.

Ross Kemp's got the whole army with him.

All I had was a mince pie to defend myself.

I didn't stand a chance, did I?

The place is called

the Ebbw Vale Beaufort Ballroom.

And... A few of you laughed.

I know the idea of having a ballroom

in Ebbw Vale is...

it's like putting lipstick and blusher

on a Rottweiler, that is.

That's not polishing a

turd, that's framing it

and taking it along

to the Antiques Roadshow to have it valued.

A ballroom? I rang the venue manager,

I said, "Has there been some kind of

mistake? A ballroom in Ebbw Vale?"

He said, "No, there's no mistake!

We decorate the theatre beautifully.

"We do it up lovely. It makes it a special

event for the punters, they love it."

And this was the clincher for me, he said,

"To be honest with you,

"it makes them behave themselves a bit."

I thought, "Ballroom it is!

We'll go ballroom!"

But I got there, if you know it,

it's a working men's club.

It's like long rows of tables

and hard plastic school chairs

and they had thick glass ashtrays

on every single table.

This is a year after the smoking ban,

bear that in mind.

I said, "Why have you

still got ashtrays out?"

He said, "They're gonna throw something

and we get money back on the bottles."

A ballroom, I think Cinderella. Do you?

That's the image I had in my head

when I arrived.

In Cinderella, the fairy godmother

turns a pumpkin into a coach,

she turns the mice and the rats

into horses and coachmen.

She hadn't bloody bothered in Ebbw Vale -

the mice, the rats, they were all there.

She hadn't even given them waistcoats.

There was no pumpkin,

the fairy godmother hadn't had time,

she'd been too busy ripping

the toilet cisterns off the wall

and scratching the words "I love cock"

into all the toilet seats.

Cinderella leaves a glass slipper on the

steps of the ball as she leaves at midnight.

I left this place at

midnight, I promise you,

there was a woman in normal slippers

having a piss behind a taxi.

That's what I was up against.

I said, "So this is ballroom, is it?

"This is the ballroom?" The manager said,

"Yes, what do you think?"

I said, "What's the difference? What the

bloody hell... What have you done?"

He said, "What's the difference?"

He started doing that majestic sweep.

"What's the difference?"

I've never seen

such an incongruous gesture.

Even his arm was going,

"Sod this, I'm not getting involved."

"Do the majestic sweep!"

"You're on your own, mate."

"You've done worse!"

"You made me do that."

"I offered you rubber gloves! Do it!"

It's the most inappropriate gesture

I've ever seen in my life.

And I say that

even though I was a pallbearer

at a relative's funeral a few years ago,

and as I walked past my brother

very solemnly with the coffin

he spotted me and went like that...

How Welsh is that? "It's going all right!"

This was more inappropriate than that.

I just said, "I'm not being funny,

but what's the difference?

"Why is it a ballroom theatre?"

He said, "What's the difference?

"Look at the place, look what we've done!

You wouldn't have had that up for a start."

Yeah, bless you for looking up there, pal,

this is in the past.

"What's he looking at?"

This is about a year ago in a different bloody

place, different time, you bloody idiot.

I did what you did, to be fair, I followed

the line of where he was pointing.

I was supposed to, I was there at the time.

I followed the line of

where he was pointing,

and not even in the centre of the room

but off to one side was...

Are you still looking up?

Off to one side, not even in the centre,

was the tiniest glitterball

you've ever seen.

That was it. That's all they had.

I can't even think of an occasion

where you'd need a glitterball that small

unless you were having a disco in your ear,

possibly.

I said, "So that's what all the fuss

is about? That little glitterball?"

He said, "I'll take it down

if that's your attitude."

I said, "No, leave it

up, it doesn't matter."

He said, "No, I'm taking it down." He got

on a ladder, unscrewed the glitterball,

and locked the ballroom away

in his drawer for another year.

And the gig was a disaster,

I knew it would be. They were shouting...

They're animals.

They were shouting and heckling.

This is what happened, this woman

ran from the front, this madwoman,

and smashed my mince pie.

She did, she ran from the front

and smashed the original pie.

I'd been keeping it for six bloody months

to do this show.

The venue manager said, "How did it go?"

I said, "Look at my pie!

"That's all the evidence you need.

Look at the state of that bloody pie!"

I promise you, no hint of irony, he said,

"Well, you've only got yourself to blame!

"Maybe next time you'll have it ballroom

like I suggested."

So that's what happened

to the original mince pie,

and I'll try and do the show with this...

this Bramley apple thing.

It's not ideal, I know, we're working in

difficult circumstances, all of us.

Can you suspend disbelief and imagine

that's a mince pie for the next hour or so?

- Yes.

- About five of you can.

The rest of you - no way.

"No way, pal. This might be a theatre

but I cannot suspend my disbelief."

Please! Just imagine...

Cos, see, the background to this is,

the reason I had a breakdown

that night in Knutsford services,

is cos I was trying to

live in the real world.

And I know that sounds

a bit pretentious and whatnot, but...

See, cos my style... What I mean by that

is I was trying to do normal stand-up

for a while, observational stuff,

because my stuff has always been

a load of invented shit.

It's always been a load of surreal,

fantasy, made-up nonsense.

Like the last show I did was all about how I'd

had a new baby and it had changed my life

and how wonderful it all...

There was no bloody baby, you know.

Bloody hate kids. Right, anyway.

And it was all made-up shit.

I always used to come out on stage

and say I was from a place in Wales

called Llanbobl.

Right? And it doesn't exist. I'm levelling

with you, it doesn't exist, I made it up.

But the reason I've changed my ways,

the reason I've stopped making stuff up,

is cos I had so much shit for it.

The press all called me a liar,

and audiences freak out, I've found,

if you make things up.

People can't cope with you making...

I came out on stage one night,

I said, "I'm from Llanbobl."

This Welsh bloke leapt to his feet...

It's not funny. He started going berserk.

He was going, "That's bullshit!

"That's bullshit!"

I thought he was going to attack me.

He was appealing to the crowd, going,

"Don't listen to him! He's bullshitting!

"He's not from Llanbobl!

He's making it up!"

I said, "Calm down,

it's just a comedy show."

"I will not calm down! Don't you dare tell

me to calm down! It's a stupid name!"

He didn't mind the "Llan" bit

cos that means church in Welsh.

"Bobl", that's what he had

a big problem with.

"Bobble, is it? Bobble?!

"Bobble, that's nothing but

a pointless hat component."

What? I said, "How do you feel

about the Peak District?"

He said, "A peak keeps the sun

out of your eyes."

He was fine with that.

I said, "Calm down, mate,

Welsh place names are confusing,

"everybody pronounces them differently."

Does anybody speak Welsh here?

No. No.

I've been learning for 27 years,

I'm still on book one.

I can speak a bit of Welsh,

it sounds quite impressive,

but all I'm really talking about

is Peter and Jane most of the time.

If they don't happen to be in the garden

with a dog, I'm buggered.

I said, "Calm down, mate,

Welsh place names are confusing

"and everybody pronounces them differently

and the county names keep changing,

"they go from an old name to a new name,

it's all very confusing."

He said, "No, it's not.

It's not confusing at all."

I said, "It is confusing!"

He said, "It's not."

I said, "Where are you from?"

He said, "Llandyssil."

- Does anybody know Llandyssil?

- Yes.

- How would you pronounce it?

- "Llandissil."

"Llandissil." That's what I said!

He said, "No, it's 'Llandussil'."

I said, "It's 'Llandissil'."

He said, "It's 'Llandussil'."

I said, "Are you thinking of the same one?

"Double-L A-N-D-Y triple-S-U

"and then as many Ls as you can be arsed

to stick around for? It's 'Llandissil'."

He said, "It's not, it's 'Llandussil'.

Where are you from?"

I said, "Carmarthen."

He said, "Up north with the castle."

I said, "That's Caernarfon. I'm from

Carmarthen down south without the castle."

He said, "İn Dyfed." I said, "Well,

it's called Carmarthenshire again now."

I said, "It's not far from Llandysul,

where you live."

He said, "No, Llandyssil's

in Montgomeryshire."

I said, "Where's that?"

He said, "It used to be called Powys."

I said, "So Llandyssil and Llandysul

are two different places!"

I said, "Do you live there now?" He said,

"No, I live in Spain!" I thought, "Sod this."

I've had enough, can't cope.

I've had enough, I'm not gonna...

I'm just gonna stop making stuff up,

it's less hassle, isn't it?

I'll just live in the real world.

I know that sounds pretentious,

but all I really mean is I'll just do

normal observational stand-up comedy,

the kind of things other people do,

and I lasted about four months

in the real world

till I had a complete nervous breakdown

over a mince pie.

Cos the real world is madder than anything

anyone can make up, don't you think?

I don't know how you cope.

I can't cope, honestly. All of this happened

one night when it all came to a head.

I was in...

I was driving back from Doncaster.

I'd been in Belfast,

doing this stupid corporate gig

that we get booked to do,

and I flew from Belfast to Donca...

Did you know Doncaster had an airport?

Nor did I!

I had no idea, it came out of the blue.

When we landed there I had no idea.

I didn't. It's an international airport!

It's not like a little regional one. It's a

massive... It doesn't just fly to Belfast.

You can fly all over the...

You can fly to Sharm el-Sheikh in Egypt.

If we didn't know there was an airport

there, how did the Egyptians get wind of it?

I had no idea there was an air...

I knew they had a Greggs,

don't get me wrong.

Anybody know what it's called,

Doncaster Airport?

- Robin Hood.

- It is! Robin Hood Airport!

In Doncaster!

What the hell is it doing there?

Did Robin Hood stop there for

a sausage roll on his way to Nottingham?

You can't just go nicking

Nottingham's shit.

What were Doncaster playing at?

The Egyptians are gonna be

disappointed enough

when they arrive in Doncaster

as it is, aren't they?

The last thing they saw before

they got on that flight was the pyramids!

Even if it's one of the bigger Greggs it's

still gonna be a bit of a letdown, isn't it?

Here's a tip for you as well - never fly

first class from Robin Hood Airport.

Have you ever...?

Cos half an hour in, the looting starts.

The curtain can only hold them back

for so long.

Then they're flooding through

from economy,

nicking your buck's fizz

and your padded eye mask.

There's sides of ham,

people dragging deer back...

I'd been having a...

I was having a terrible day.

I'd been in Belfast, you see. Cos we get

booked to do these corporate gigs,

and it's always the same thing,

there's always some pointless industry

having a tedious big...

they have a big black-tie dinner

and then an awards ceremony,

and then they wheel out some comedian

who dies on his arse for 15 minutes.

Then has to stand there and hand out

the awards and have his photo taken

with the people who've just been booing

and slow-hand-clapping him.

Maybe that's just my experience of them.

I was hosting Butcher's Shop Of The Year.

Yeah, that's my real life

you're laughing at there.

Butcher's Shop Of The Year.

700 butchers.

Have you ever seen 700 butchers

in one room?

You look mildly turned on by the idea.

Does that excite you, the thought of 700...

Is it the thought of men who can break down

a pig's carcass in three minutes?

Imagine what they could do to you!

Is that what you're thinking?

Is it the thought of

being explored by hands

that have recently had the giblets

out of a chicken?

For three hours, I had to keep a

straight face and hand out these awards.

It started off all right, by the end it

was, "Best supporting faggot, well done.

"Up you come.

"Most innovative use of a Scotch egg,

well done, mate."

I was going berserk, man.

And then I still had to fly to Doncaster.

I flew with Flybe. Do you know them?

- Yes.

- Cheeky bastards.

I hate these budget airlines

cos they ram you in...

You can't move, can you?

You're rammed in.

I'm six foot and 13 stone.

You can't bloody move a muscle in there.

And then they give you

those exercises to do, with a big smile on!

"Do these exercises, sir,

to avoid deep-vein thrombosis."

If you've packed me in so ruddy tight

that I need to exercise to avoid dying

in the next hour and a half,

maybe I haven't got quite enough

bloody room in the first place!

Flybe... I know they all do it,

but Flybe are the bloody worst,

because half of them

aren't even real passengers.

Did you read about this?

It was in the news. True story.

Flybe weren't getting enough passengers,

so you know what they started doing?

They started advertising for actors

to pretend to be passengers.

I swear to God, this is the real world,

you can't make this shit up, honestly.

I didn't believe it at first,

but on that flight to Doncaster

there was Keanu Reeves two in front of me,

Robert De Niro was there and Curly Watts.

Do you remember him?

Kevin Kennedy off Coronation Street.

And people say Keanu Reeves can't act -

I thought he was bloody good

as a passenger.

"I'm a normal passenger

going to Doncaster. I'll have the fish."

He did that in three takes.

That's not bad going.

Hats off to the casting department,

they got the right man for the job there.

I was going mad, honestly, this stupid

corporate gig and then this bloody flight,

and then I still had to get all the way

back from Doncaster back to Cardiff.

And before any clever dick points it out,

I know I shouldn't have been on the M6.

I know I shouldn't have been anywhere near

Knutsford in the bloody first place.

Should I? My sat nav went wrong again

and took me the long way round.

And long journeys are a nightmare for me

cos I'm 41 this year

and my bladder's packed up.

Anyone else...

A few laughs of recognition from up there.

It's a nightmare, honestly,

my bladder's packed up.

There's things you know

about getting older,

I know I'm gonna lose my hair a bit and

there's things I can't do like I used to,

but I didn't realise my bladder...

I tell you the worst thing

I didn't realise is that...

This freaked me out

more than anything about hitting 40.

I don't know if anybody else has

experienced this, but on my 40th birthday

I was sat on the toilet.

Not for the whole day.

I've just realised how that sounds,

but it wasn't...

No, I was just going to the toilet as normal

and it happened to be my birthday and...

and I caught sight of... of my own penis.

It's not funny!

It freaked me out. I was staring at it

for about an hour on the toilet.

Cos I thought, "That is 40 years old."

Does that not freak you out?

My penis is 40 years old.

Let that sink in.

I mean, the idea, not the penis.

It's been dangling there for 40 years!

Does that not... I couldn't

take my eyes off it.

What the hell has it...

It's been dangling there for 40 years!

Look around you!

The seats, the furniture, the clothes...

My cock's older than this

building, I imagine.

Look at you down there.

How old's your little penis down there?

25!

Get it out, I'd love

to have a go on that.

Go on!

Not for long! I just

want a quick look at it.

I'd love to have your penis.

I'll come and see you after.

No, I wanna see it now!

I'd love to have... I'd give my right arm

to get hold of that little fella.

Just for a... Get it out! Just give us a little

look. It's got its whole life ahead of it.

Mine remembers Ted Heath!

Richard Nixon, the Berlin Wall,

the moon landing.

My cock's older than Sydney Opera House,

for crying out loud.

It was heritage listed three years ago.

It's been going longer than

Last Of The Summer Wine.

It's so depressing getting older.

My bladder's packed up,

I was on this long journey,

and I had to stop in

every single service station on the M6,

Knutsford, Stafford, Sandbach, Keele,

every bloody one of them,

to go to the toilet.

And things took a turn for the better

at Knutsford.

That's the irony. Things started off quite

well there, cos I got lucky in Knutsford.

And I don't mean like that, if anybody's...

Yeah, not like that at all.

I didn't cop off in Knutsford services,

you childish little sod.

I don't mean like that. I didn't have a

quick shag in the baby changing facilities.

I've never understood that facility.

I've got nothing against you swapping your

kids if you don't like 'em, carry on, but...

do it through the proper channels.

Don't do it on a whim in the services,

you'll regret it.

My sister got shot of my niece

in Membury on the M4

and part of her regrets it now - the baby

she got in exchange is a right twat.

She's hardly used him.

I don't mean like that.

I don't mean, when I got lucky...

I mean, when I say I got lucky

in Knutsford, it's because...

You know when you arrive at the services,

they've started telling you...

they tell you who the manager is.

Have you seen that?

It's a lovely touch, isn't it?

They tell you who the manager is.

Big picture there, and I promise you,

some of you will think I planned this,

but I swear to God, I didn't plan it,

this was just pure good luck,

but I arrived and, whatshisname,

Mark Robertson was on duty.

Do... Do you know Mark Robertson?

Why are you looking at me like that?

Why are you pretending

you don't know who he is?

There's a big picture of him on the way in.

Who's been to Knutsford services here?

Quick show of hands. Has anyone

been to... See, there are a few people.

And was Mark Robertson on

when you were there?

You don't know.

Don't you care?

It's Mark Robertson,

he's a bloody good manager!

Have you seen

what he's done with the place?

He's better than John Finnigan.

Have you been there when that prick's on?

You go there when he's on and tell me

you don't care. What an asshole.

If I see it's him on duty now I just turn

round and get the hell back out of there.

Life's too short

to be dealing with dicks like...

What's wrong with you people? Do you not

care who the manager is at the services?

Nor do I! That's the bloody point,

to be honest!

I can't bear it. I can't bear all this

twee little customer services...

Everybody pretending they care.

"Your manager is Mark Rob..."

I'm stopping for a shit!

I don't need to meet the staff!

The only thing I care less about is when

the toilets are getting their next clean.

Do you remember how long it was

or have you forgotten that as well?

26 minutes, it was, when I arrived. "These

toilets will be cleaned again in 26..."

A big countdown clock, for crying...

Have you ever found yourself

driving down the M6 thinking,

"Come on, love, put your foot down, they'll

be doing the bogs in Knutsford about now!"

Are we expected to wait?

Are they hoping it's gonna draw a crowd?

I like watching the toilets getting cleaned

as much as any of you, it's not that.

But I'm not waiting 26 bloody minutes,

I'll tell you that much.

20 minutes is the absolute cutoff for me.

I thought, "I know what I'll do, I won't

panic, I'll... I'll have half a shit here...

"and then push on and try and catch the

cleaners at Keele." That's what I was...

Well, you laugh, I got to Keele,

the cleaners were just arriving,

I got to see the whole thing -

the gamble paid off, thank Christ.

Bloody countdown clock.

It's Knutsford toilets, not Cape Canaveral.

Nobody's going into space, are they?

I've had some good clear-outs in there

but I've never achieved weightlessness.

The only person boldly going anywhere

is the poor sod going in directly after me.

It's a small step for him but it's hardly

a giant leap for mankind, is it?

I can't bear it, all this twee little

customer services marketing rubbish.

"Your manager's Mark Robertson, your toilets

will be cleaned again in 26 minutes."

I had to leave feedback!

Did you do that

when you were there, madam?

Did you press those

things, the row of faces

where you can register your satisfaction

on the way out?

Press the smiley face if you've had

a particularly good shit in there.

Very happy with that. Get in.

Very happy with that one,

I properly nailed that.

There's an unhappy face as well, just

in case it's disappointed you in some way.

Sometimes you build it up too much,

you get too excited,

it can't live up to the hype, can it?

There's a sort of indifferent face

in the middle as well.

God forbid your shit should

leave you unmoved, you press that one.

"It hasn't affected my mood either way,

that poo, I'll...

"I think I'll press the indifferent face."

Why all this bureaucracy? I'm having a poo,

not buying a house abroad.

And it's really embarrassing cos...

Hands up, who presses those things?

Has anybody ever pressed them?

You have, back there.

And has this ever happened to you,

have you ever pressed the happy face

and then somebody come immediately

behind you and pressed the unhappy face

in front of everybody?

Has that ever happened?

I've never been so embarrassed in my life.

I didn't know where to look.

How humiliating! In front of everybody!

I ran after him, I grabbed... I said,

"What the hell was that about back there?

"What kind of stunt

were you trying to pull back there?

"You saw I pressed the smiley face,

I was perfectly satisfied with the toilets,

"and you've pressed the unhappy face.

"Are you trying to say you're better than me,

you've got higher standards than I've got?"

I said, "You've made me look

a right twat in there."

I said, "You only had a wee, your vote

shouldn't even count the same as mine.

"Get back in there and have a poo,"

and marched him back in there.

"Get in there and have a shit!

Go on! You get in there.

"I'll watch your kids, don't worry about

them, you get in there and have a shit."

He was in there,

he was in the cubicle then, crying.

He's sorry now. "I'm sorry!

"I'll press the smiley face on the way out.

Don't hurt my kids.

"I'm sorry. It's spotless in this cubicle."

"You're damn right, mate.

Are you listening to me in there?

"Can you hear me?" I said, "You wanna be

a bit more careful next time, pal.

"You wanna watch it,

you're lucky it's only me you did it to

"and not some nutcase in here

at this time of night."

It's true.

You get a lot of nutters in the services

at that time in the morning.

That's when all the freaks

and weirdos come out.

Half past two in the morning. I should know,

I've spent a lot of time in those places.

It's true. Talking of nutters,

you won't believe this,

there was people, this is half two,

three o'clock in the morning,

people in there drinking coffee.

Have you seen these people?

Hands up, who does that here?

Quick show. You, look, you.

Calm as you like, "Yeah."

You, what's your poison?

- Espresso.

- Espresso.

The worst.

You're having that

and then you get behind the wheel?

"Yeah, yeah."

Look at her, not a care in the world.

You animal.

You bloody animal.

Are you a bit thick?

Do you not read those

road safety campaigns? That "Think!"

They're everywhere.

Do they have to spell it out for you?

"Think! One fifth of all accidents are caused

by people falling asleep at the wheel."

Do I have to spell it out for you? That means

four fifths of them, the vast majority,

are caused by people like you

staying awake at the bloody wheel.

You're the ones we've got to watch,

the fresh ones, you're the real killers!

Have a break by all means,

but have a Horlicks, take a couple

of sleeping pills, or a hot milk.

An espresso and then get behind the wheel,

you're a loaded gun, you are.

I don't drive unless my eyes are going.

It's not worth the risk.

God, I get so wound up, you see.

No wonder I was getting wound up

with idiots like you in there.

I was getting more and more stressed out,

and then I...

I came out of the toilets,

I had to get through the lobby area,

you've got to get past

all that random pile of crap they sell.

Everything's two for a tenner. I couldn't

help myself, I'm a sucker for a bargain.

I only stopped for a shit, I came out

with a two-man tent, director's chair,

and a torch with the power

of a million candles!

You've seen them, have you?

The torch with... It bloody winds me up!

It bloody winds me up!

The torch with the power of a million...

For 3.99!

A million candles for 3.99.

That's gonna spell the end of the single

candle, don't expect to see them for long.

Who's gonna buy a single candle

when you can get a million for 3.99?

Tesco's do candles in

packs of five for 1.99,

that's a saving of nearly 400 grand

you're getting there!

It's not much, but every little helps.

I've got no idea how bright that is.

Why don't people talk to you

in a language you can understand?

Give me a frame of reference

I can understand.

I don't know, I don't think in candles.

Do you?

I've got no... 100,000 has got to be enough

for any domestic situation.

Have you ever been down the cellar

with 900,000 candles?

"This is bloody hopeless!

"I can't see a thing down here.

"Mother! Throw me down another 100,000,

would you?

"They're in the second

drawer down, I think.

"Let's get a bit of bloody light down here

before I do myself an injury."

I've only ever seen 26 candles

lit at any one time.

It was my grandad's 90th,

he was mental by then, it didn't matter.

He did have 90, but I got there a bit late,

and blowing out the first 64

killed him, unfortunately.

I said to the guy in the shop,

"When am I ever gonna need this?

"Realistically, when am I ever gonna need a

torch with the power of a million bloody..."

He didn't know, but he starts giving me the

hard sell. "It's for a really dark place, mate.

"Imagine you lost something

in a really dark place.

"It could be really useful."

I thought, "How dark are we talking?

He said, "What's the darkest place

you can think of?"

"I dunno. Inside a shoe?"

He said, "Well, there you go."

I said, "There you go?

I've never lost anything in my shoes.

"I only keep my feet in there

and I've never lost them."

He said, "I bet you keep your keys

in your shoes when you play sport."

I said, "I suppose I do,

but I've never lost them either.

"I just finish playing sport,

tip the shoe up and out the keys come."

He said, "Well, you can say goodbye

to doing that if you buy this torch."

I said, "Say goodbye to tipping my shoe up?

"It's hardly a life-changing

product benefit, this."

He said, "Imagine having

a million candles."

I said, "I've got net curtains. I live

with an alcoholic, for Christ's sake.

"I get nervous if he uses the ruddy hob."

He said, "Do you want the torch or not?"

I said, "Of course I do, it's 3.99.

"I'm not made of bloody money,

I can't afford not to buy it."

I get so wound up. I've got no idea what

people are talking about in the real world.

Why don't they give us a frame of reference

we can understand?

I tried to buy bedding last year.

Now, by a quick show of hands, how many

of you actually tried to buy bedding?

About nine.

The rest of us, where does your bedding

bloody come from?

Have you...

You just inherit bedding, don't you?

That's what's happened to me,

you just accumulate bedding.

I'm 40 years old, I've only bought one

duvet, I've got rooms full of the shit!

Pillows, pillow slips, sheets and blankets.

Honestly, somebody brings it in the night.

Beep-beep-beep!

"Bring the bedding lorry in, lads!

"Fill the bloody house up! That's it!

"More bedding, more pillows,

more pillow slips, more sheets!

"Get the blankets in,

he'll be awake in a couple of hours!"

But they never bring a

valance, do they? No!

Too much trouble to bring a bloody valance,

isn't it?

Do you even know what a valance is,

down there?

You do?

It's just that you were looking at me

like this is the most boring conversation

you've ever heard.

Well, I'm sorry,

this is me living in the real world.

This is observational stuff. These are

the things that affect me day to day.

I've tried doing all the surreal fantasy

shit, people complained at that as well,

so don't look at me bored.

If you want to go and see the fantasy

surreal stuff, go and see somebody else.

If you want to see a 40-year-old man giving

the bedding department of Debenhams

a dressing-down then get your

slippers on and get comfy, pal.

Cos you are in for a smooth ride.

Have you tried to buy a duvet yet?

No. You wait till you do.

You'll come up against the tog rating system

and you'll come unstuck just like I did.

You wait. I'll ask you. I'm the shop

assistant. Do you want to buy a duvet?

No?

That's kind of put a spanner

in the works early, hasn't it?

Let's imagine you did.

What tog do you want?

Yeah. What what?

What tog? What what?

What tog?

What what?

I can hear you, I've got no idea

what you're talking about.

Did you do togs in your school? We didn't.

We did Pythagoras, geometry, trigonometry,

feet and inches,

nobody mentioned togs.

I said, "What is a tog?"

She said, "The thickness of the duvet."

I said, "Is it? I'll have a million."

I was thinking of torches again.

She said, "Nobody needs a million-tog

duvet. What do you want a million...

"Realistically, when are you ever gonna

need a million-tog duvet?"

I didn't know, but I started

giving her the hard sell.

I said, "Maybe it's for

a really cold place.

"Imagine you're... What's the coldest place

you can think of?"

She said, "It's probably when I lean back

on a very cold toilet seat with no top on."

I said, "An outdoor toilet?"

She said, "Even worse."

I said, "Well, there you go."

She said, "What good is a duvet

gonna do me in that situation?"

I said, "Have you never wrapped yourself

in a duvet to go to the toilet at night?"

She said, "Of course, but I wouldn't to go to

an outdoor toilet. I'd always get dressed."

I said, "Well, you can say goodbye to

doing that if you buy this bloody duvet."

She said, "Say goodbye?

"Say goodbye to getting dressed

to go to an outdoor toilet?"

She said, "It's hardly

a life-changing product benefit."

I said, "Do you want the duvet or not?"

She said, "I'm confused,

I'm supposed to be selling you the duvet."

I said, "Well, get on with it,

"I've got a valance to get after this

and I'm not looking forward to it."

She said, "What tog do you want?"

I said, "I don't know.

"We've established this,

I don't know what a ruddy tog is.

"I don't even know what the choices are."

She said, "You can have 8, 10.5..."

"Point five now, is it?!

"I've never heard of a tog

"and now I'm supposed to work out

if I want point five of a ruddy tog?"

She said,

"When are you gonna be using it?"

"At fucking night!

When do you think I'm gonna be using it?

"It's a duvet, isn't it?

When do people normally use duvets?

"Do you think I only go to bed

at Friday lunchtimes or in the ad breaks,

"or when Jupiter aligns with Mars?"

She said, "Will you be using it

52 weeks of the year?"

I thought, "No, I'm gonna sell it

to Cash Converters

"and buy it back every few months,

that seems to make a lot of sense."

She said, "If you're buying it

at this time of year, get a 12..."

That's what she said, "If you're

buying it at this time of year..."

I said, "What do you mean, if I'm buying it

at this time of year? I'm here, aren't I?

"What other time of year

could I be buying it?

"I'm here, you're here, there's the till,

this is the sale, we're all here.

"This isn't a dry run, this is Debenhams,

not the Italian Job. Let's...

"I'm not casing the

place, let's do it now."

She said, "How much

do you want to spend?"

I said, "If you're selling

it now, about £30."

She said,

"You'll have to have feather for that."

Have you had this?

"You'll have to have feather.

"Spend a bit more,

you don't want a feather one."

I said, "I bloody do, I want a feather one and

get the hell out of here. I'll take anything."

She said, "They get a bit prickly.

It's the quill bits.

"The quill bits get a bit prickly."

I said, "What the bloody hell are you doing

filling a duvet with prickly quill bits?

"I can't think of anything worse

to fill a duvet with.

"Unless maybe you've got them out the back

full of stabby things or burny shit."

I said, "I just want a nice, soft,

comfortable duvet.

"What is so difficult about this? Just

get me a nice, soft, comfortable duvet."

She said, "Well, get down!"

I hit the deck, my nerves had gone.

My nerves were in shatters.

She said, "Get up!"

I said, "You said get down!"

She said, "I meant get down

instead of feather, you idiot!"

I said, "All right, I'll have down.

At last we're getting somewhere."

She said, "Do you want duck or goose?"

I said, "I'm gonna punch you in a minute.

"I don't care, I'm not gonna eat it, I'm just

gonna sleep under it. It doesn't matter!"

I said, "All right, duck!"

She didn't, I punched her!

She went down as well,

and I said, "I told you duck!"

She said, "I thought you meant duck

instead of goose."

I said, "You started that shit,

I couldn't care less!"

She said, "But goose is much more

comfortable than duck, sir.

"Goose is a lot more comfortable

than duck." I thought, "Is it?"

How much more comfortable than duck

can goose be?

Have you ever seen a particularly

uncomfortable duck? Cos I haven't.

Have you ever had a duck waddle up to you,

going, "It's all right for them geese.

"This is killing me, this."

She said, "If you can

afford it, get goose."

I thought, "If I can't afford it,

how can a goose afford it?"

I know foie gras is expensive

but I doubt if much of the money

makes its way back to the geese, does it?

Never been so stressed out.

I had to... I had to ring my mother.

Half past two in the morning.

My mother's the only person I know

who knows anything about torches.

She's a bit of an expert, you know,

she's that generation where

they have a torch by the bed.

Every single ruddy night.

Has to have a torch by the bed. My mother

will not go to bed without a torch by the...

It's in case there's a power cut.

In the night.

And how will you know, Mum?

You switch everything off

before you go to bed anyway.

If you wake up in the middle of the night

and everything's still off...

will you not just assume all is well?

Is that too much to ask, without rushing

for the fuse box, you mental old bat?

That's where she's going.

"The fuse box! Everybody to the fuse box!"

She doesn't even know where

the fuse box is or what to do with it.

She might as well keep the keys

to the Batmobile by the bed.

And if you stay there,

you have to have a torch.

Yeah, come and stay at my mother's,

all of you.

She'd find a torch for

all of you, honestly.

You'll have a torch by the bed every night.

Me, my brother, my sister -

no torch, no stay, that's the rules.

You wake up some nights, it's like an

episode of Murder, She Wrote in that house.

I rang her from the services,

I said, "Mum, I need your help."

I said, "I need your help.

How bright's a million candles?"

I rang her at half past two,

three in the morning, maybe she was tired.

I said, "How bright's a million candles?"

She said, "I imagine it's very bright,

you remember your grandad's 90th."

I said, "That was 90 candles, Mum.

This is a million candles."

She said, "I'm sure he had a million

on there at first." I said, "He didn't.

"It was a birthday cake,

he was 90, he had 90 candles."

I said, "This is 999,910 candles

more than he had."

She said, "You'll need a bigger cake."

I said, "Forget the cake, there is no cake,

woman, this is a torch."

She said, "You'll never fit

a million candles on a torch."

I said, "I'm not trying to fit them on. It's a

torch with the power of a million candles."

She said, "How much are they?"

I said, "3.99." She said, "I'll have two.

"You've just saved me 800 grand," she said.

"You're a good boy."

By the time I'd got to the restaurant bit,

honestly, I've never been

so stressed out in my life.

You know, I was carrying all this crap,

you know, I had the tent,

I had a director's chair,

I had three torches now.

And I was hungry, I was tired.

Not tired enough to drive again yet,

but I was getting there, espresso.

I thought, "I'll have another couple of

sleeping pills, see if that does the trick."

I still had half a poo in the pipe,

bear that in mind.

Had you forgotten that? I was shuffling

around like the elephant man there.

The slightest little thing was gonna send me

over the edge. It wasn't gonna take much.

And that's what happened,

cos this is the graveyard shift,

most of the staff have gone home.

Mark Robertson's long gone by this point.

Either that or he's out the back

having another photo shoot.

There's no staff there,

they only put a few staff on.

There was nobody there, but the few

that are there, they get very territorial.

Have you noticed that? They don't like

you being on their patch late at night.

Cos one minute there was nobody there

in the restaurant,

and then the next thing I knew,

those double swing doors from the kitchen

flew open and this woman

shot out like a dog

that had just been fired out of a cannon.

She flew out of there,

sniffing around along the counter.

They shadow you, don't they,

at that time of night.

Back and forth, like a little gravy-stained

space invader, she was.

Just in case you try and stir the beans.

"Not on my watch, pal.

"That crust stays where it is."

Beans. Chance would've been a fine thing.

There was no beans left.

Do you know what, the only thing I could

see in the whole place was one mince pie.

It's true. Over by the teas and the

coffees. One mince pie by the till there.

I was starving. I said,

"Is that all you've got?"

She said, "Yes."

I thought, "I'd better have that, then."

I went to pick it up

and she said, "Use the tongs!"

I said, "You what?"

She said, "Use the tongs provided!"

"Use the tongs."

I said, "Can't I just pick it up?

"It's half past two in the morning, there's

nobody here, there's no other food here.

"It's not like I can

contaminate any other...

"There's more food in your hair than

there is in here. Please can I just..."

"Use the tongs."

I was trying to use the tongs,

chasing it round the services...

when I noticed a little sign

just behind the mince pie...

that said "award-winning mince pie."

And normally you'd let

that go, wouldn't you?

You could tell I was losing the plot

cos I said, "What award did it win?"

She said, "You what?"

I said, "The mince pie,

"if it's so clever, what award did it win?"

"I don't know, nobody's ever asked."

I said, "I'm asking, I've had a hell of a

day, I'd like to know what award that won."

She said, "I can't tell you."

I said, "Find out."

She tried to find out,

she couldn't find out.

I said, "I want to know what award.

Where's Mark Robertson?"

She said, "He's gone home."

I said, "I wanna know."

I'm in the eye of the storm now,

I have lost the plot completely.

It's that Butcher's Shop Of The Year,

it's got me obsessed with awards.

I said, "I want to know what award that

mince pie won." She said, "I don't know."

I said, "But you don't seem to care!"

It's not funny.

She said the words

that flipped me over the edge

cos she articulated perfectly what I think

of the service industries in this country.

She said...

"It's not my job to care."

You are damn right, dramatic gasp.

It was like a sucker punch,

my legs went weak, my head was spinning,

cos I'd been trying to live in the real world

for months, and nobody cares, do they?

They all pretend they do,

but nobody really cares.

And it all went through my mind,

all the crappy customer services I'd had

for those few months, the...

the Dreams bed company.

Has anyone bought a bed off them?

Has it been delivered yet?

I've been on hold for so long, I know

every word to Dream Dream Dream,

Daydream Believer,

Dreams Can Come True,

Together In Electric Pisspot Dreams.

And BT, "It's good to talk." Do you

remember that Bob Hoskins advert?

"It's good to talk, it's good to talk."

If it's that good to talk, pick up the phone!

I've been ringing you for nine months, BT!

Good to talk! I've got more chance of

bumping into Bob Hoskins on a Flybe flight

than I have of getting through to them.

"It's not my job to care," she said.

I flipped out completely.

Honestly, I can't cope in the real world,

this is what I mean.

My life is quite stressful, this job.

It's true, I go out to entertain the troops

in Iraq and Afghanistan.

- Has anybody been out to those places?

- Yes.

You have, there in the suit.

Where have you been?

- Iraq and Afghanistan.

- Iraq and Afghanistan.

Was it on active service or just a...

really badly planned honeymoon?

"Look, love, this is cheap!"

Was it... Where...

Were you serving out there?

Cos I go out to entertain the troops.

It's terrifying.

Were you trained before you go?

No?

Were you in the services

or were you a civilian like me?

- In the services.

- In the services.

Cos it's terrifying for us,

cos we get no training.

And you, also, it's

partly terrifying for us

cos we're going to a warzone,

that's obviously terrifying,

but it's partly terrifying

because you people wind us up, don't you?

You do. As soon as you find out there's

somebody on the flight who isn't in the army,

a comedian or a journalist...

See, cos you can't fly

from Robin Hood Airport to Kabul.

The Afghanis haven't got wind of it

like the Egyptians have.

You can't, you have to

fly from an RAF base.

You dress us in blue.

You're all there in your sexy military gear

and you put us in blue so you know

who to take the piss out of on the flight.

It's true, they wind you up,

you give us all these scare stories.

I was going to Iraq.

Camel spiders - does that ring a bell?

That's what they tell you. I was worried

about the Iraqi bombs and things.

They say, "Don't worry about that,

you won't even get that far.

"First night in the desert, you'll go to bed,

you'll have a camel spider on your face,

"anaesthetise your head

and eat you alive anyway."

I'm like, "What's a camel spider?

Why is it so scary?

"Why is it called a camel spider?"

They don't know but they just make shit up.

"It's got the head of a camel

and the body of a spider

"and lives in a camel's nutsack. The French

smoke 'em, the Arabs race 'em."

They just make shit up.

20 minutes before you arrive, back me up,

in Iraq or Afghanistan, they switch

all the lights out on the plane.

Nobody told me that was gonna happen.

I panicked!

They switch... Even the ones that flash on

the ends of the wings, everything goes out.

That means you're approaching a warzone.

Or as you like to call it hilariously...

"A theatre of war."

The only thing I've seen less like a theatre

is the Ebbw Vale Beaufort, frankly.

That's when... The lights go out and that's

when you really start winding us up.

You start getting ready,

you start handing out your machine guns

and your helmets and your flak jackets,

and we get bloody flippers, swimming cap

and a glow stick to waggle about.

It's true. And I was on this flight, we

were about to take off from this RAF base

when I received a picture text message

from the girl I'd been seeing at the time.

Who's left me now.

I was gonna say

for reasons that'll become obvious,

they're probably fairly obvious

to most of you already.

It's partly my personality, but it's partly

she's left me for a younger man,

- you see, because...

- Aw.

Well, she wasn't even

that much younger than me.

But... Cos this picture she sent me when

I was going away over there was of her...

It was a saucy one

of her in a sort of semi-naked condition.

Cos she sent me this picture thinking

it would get me through

a lonely few weeks in Afghanistan.

But she wasn't even that much younger

than me, I was nearly 40 at the time,

and she was 34.

Which on paper sounds fine, doesn't it?

That should work out perfectly well.

But unfortunately God's played that little trick

on all of us, he or she has played that...

She was 34, and as a woman

hitting her sexual peak with a vengeance,

and as a man at 40,

I was 23 years past mine.

She was killing me, that's the truth of it.

Night after relentless night,

putting me to the sword.

It's true. I'm 40 years old, man,

sex once a week is fine for me.

With a change of position

if absolutely necessary.

And three weeks' written notice.

She's left me now for somebody

who didn't tell her to grow up

when she suggested doing it

twice in the same week.

"You can sleep when you're dead!"

She didn't need sleep.

"In that case, hop on and do me now,

cos I am one away.

"I'm one away from eternal

rest, hallelujah,

"put me out of my bloody misery,

let me slip away quietly."

Cos she sent me this picture

of herself naked

thinking it would get me through

a lonely couple of weeks in Afghanistan.

Cos she was at her sexual peak. Two weeks

to her without sex was unthinkable.

What she didn't realise is

the only bloody reason I was going

to Afghanistan in the first place

was to get away from her!

I was a sex tourist of a different sort.

I was trying to escape from it.

It's true. I tried everything.

I thought, "Where can I go in the world

where there's no chance of anybody..."

It's got to be Afghanistan, hasn't it?

Unless the Taliban have very much changed

their tactics since I last watched the news.

They've banned anything to do with sex,

it's unlikely they're going

to want to spend the whole week

knobbing a Western comedian.

And if they did, by that point, frankly,

a change was going to be as good as a rest.

They also banned pool tables

and dancing and alcohol and parties,

so I thought, "At least if I do get off with

one of the Taliban it'll be a cheap date

"and more importantly

an early night for the first time."

Operation Enduring Freedom, you call it.

I call it Operation Salvage

What's Left Of Your Self-Esteem

And Your Todger.

It was starting to look like a dog's toy

by this point.

It looked like a Joan Rivers tribute act

down there.

It was. I tried everything.

Going to Afghanistan was the last resort.

I tried all the tricks. You do when you're

in this situation where you've got a partner

who's killing you every night.

I'd wriggle out of it any way I could.

I'd go to bed early with a headache, she'd

come upstairs, I'd pretend to be asleep,

pretend to be drunk, pretend to be dead.

I've pretended to be Dawn French

before now.

That didn't work. "Great! Role play!

I'll be Lenny Henry!"

No, if you're gonna do role play, choose

something generic like a cowboy or sailor,

don't choose somebody

you have to work with the following week.

I had to do a gig with Lenny Henry,

I couldn't bloody look at him

after what he did to me.

You all think he's lovely and cuddly,

he's an animal in the bedroom.

I'll never eat another Chocolate Orange

as long as I live.

And there's nothing you can do. She'd come

at me like something off Robot Wars.

She would, attacking me.

She'd get me in the end.

It was only... I could buy a bit of time,

that's the best...

I could slow her down,

I could put glue down.

Scatter nails as I backed up the stairs,

tie her shoelaces together

would slow her down a bit.

I've left a roller skate at the foot of

the stairs, she fell and broke her ankle,

I gained about two minutes.

She was coming upstairs one night,

I poured boiling oil on her

like the Romans used to do.

I had just enough time for a banana and

an energy drink and she was on me again.

And the oil ruined a perfectly good pair

of winceyette pyjamas.

And a brand-new bloody valance,

for that matter.

God.

I've tried everything,

I've tried every aphrodisiac and Via...

You can get all these weird things

off the internet, can't you? Rhino horn.

I was getting through that stuff.

Has anybody tried that?

Or tiger penis.

Tiger... Honestly, it's

the chewiest, saltiest...

It's like trying to bite

through a fan belt.

And you're trying to do it quietly,

cos you're thinking,

"If he wakes up now I'm

in real trouble here."

You've got him on one side of the bed,

her on the other, it's 50-50 to be honest.

Viagra, I've tried Viagra.

It's supposed to be a miracle cure.

It works physically, but it doesn't

put you in the mood, does it?

It works physically,

there's no arguing with the evidence,

but it doesn't make you feel sexy, so now

you're in the worst situation possible.

Cos it looks like you're well up for it

and you're not necessarily.

And they don't care.

She'd see that, she'd go,

"Ooh, somebody's pleased to see me!

Look who's come out to play!"

I'm like, "He hasn't come out to play,

"he's been made to stand outside

the headmaster's office. Get off him!"

You don't feel sexy at all.

And you don't look sexy, it's not a

good look, you're white as a sheet,

all the blood rushes to your underpants,

standing there like a snowman holding half

a bottle of merlot, for crying out loud.

And... And it lasts too long, it lasts all

night. I thought it would last an hour or two.

If you work, if you've got work

the next morning, take it early evening,

don't take it after midnight,

for crying out loud.

And definitely don't take it at 2am

if you've promised your neighbour's kids

you'll run a half-marathon with them

first thing the next morning...

dressed as Spider-Man.

You try explaining to a 10-year-old

why Spider-Man's getting booed every lap.

That was his hero.

Honestly. I had to go to Afghanistan.

Don't you see? It was a last resort.

I was out of ideas.

I hadn't slept in weeks,

and I get overemotional, you know?

I get all raw and emotional

when I haven't slept.

I was crying at the slightest little thing.

I cried in Tesco's cos the broccoli

was reduced to clear once.

I had to go to Afghanistan,

that's the thing,

but, see, I couldn't look at that picture she'd

sent me, because the flight was taking off.

They made me switch my phone off.

So the first thing I did when I arrived in

Kandahar, in the airfield in Afghanistan,

I went to switch my phone on,

and I still don't know if this is true

cos you make up so much shit

that we don't know

whether we're coming or going.

But I put my phone on,

and movers, you call them,

the people who look after you,

the logistics people,

this girl saw me putting my phone on

on the airfield.

She said, "Turn that phone off!

Whatever you do, do not turn that phone on!

"Did you turn your phone on?"

I said, "No!" I had, right?

She said, "Turn your phone off!

Whatever you do, do not turn that phone on,

"because the Taliban are all around us,

they're surrounding this airfield."

Is this true? I don't even know.

She said, "They have such sophisticated

communications equipment

"that if you put your phone on,

they know exactly where you are."

That's what she told me. Is that true? I can

see you're waiting to say something there.

You're the entertainment.

We're the entertainment?

So it's not even true, is it?

You bastards.

She said, "They know exactly

where you are! They can pinpoint you."

I said, "I was just gonna ring my mum,

"tell her I'm safe, she'll be worried,

tell her I've arrived in Afghanistan safe."

She said, "Whatever you do,

don't ring anybody,

"because if you ring somebody, then

not only do they know where you are now

"but they can access the numbers

that you've dialled.

"And the Taliban," she said,

"will ring your mother."

And I thought, "Yeah?

Well, let 'em bloody ring her."

Cos they'll hang up before she does,

I know that much.

Unless they've got an unhealthy interest

in next door's new caravan

they're gonna hang up before she does.

And they would regret it

the following Sunday,

and every Sunday when she rings them

back in the middle of bloody Dibley.

"It's Mrs Gilbert!"

"How did she get our number?"

"She must've dialled 1471."

"Tell her I'm in the bath."

"We live in a cave, you twat!

She's not gonna fall for that."

"She's asking if we need a torch.

How bright, Mrs Gilbert?

"What the bloody hell

are we gonna do with that?

"She's gone to get the cat."

Taliban would ring my mother...

She's a typical Welsh mother,

they wouldn't get a word in edgeways.

Have to have a bumper opium crop to pay

for that phone call, I'll tell you that.

They'll be stoning themselves

after a couple of hours.

God knows I've been tempted.

No wonder I had a breakdown that night,

between the Taliban

and the army winding me up

and this lady killing me night after night,

no wonder I had a breakdown.

"It's not my job to care."

That's what she said.

"It's not my job to care."

Do you know, I thought,

"No. I've had enough.

"For once in my life

I'm gonna stand up for myself."

I said, "I am not moving till I find out

what award that mince pie has won.

"You can say what you bloody like.

"I'm gonna sit in the café

and I am not moving

"until I find out

what award that mince pie has won."

She took the wind out of my sails a bit.

She said, "You can't sit there,

that seating area's closed."

And then I remembered

that I had a seating area of my own.

And luckily, if you cast your minds back...

...I had made what turned out to be

quite a wise investment.

Two for a tenner, these were!

Money well spent, as it turned out.

And do you know what,

I set up my director's chair.

I sat there in the services and I thought,

"I am not moving...

"till I find out what award

that mince pie has won."

And I think as soon as I sat down, really,

I knew it was all over, to be honest.

I think I knew my time in the real world

had come to an end.

It was time for me to go back to Llanbobl.

Well, it's like a little

fantasy world, isn't it?

You know when you're a kid,

you have a little fantasy world

that you can retreat to

when you feel threatened.

I remember the first time I ever said

"Llanbobl" on stage,

I was in the Comedy Store in London

in the West End.

You know, sometimes as a Welsh person

on stage in London

you can come in for quite a hard time.

You know, you get

the odd sheep noise and...

- Baa!

- Yeah, that's the one.

On this particular occasion

there'd been a guy baaing at me nonstop

for about 18, 19 minutes.

And I'd lost control of the gig,

I don't mind telling you,

but he was heckling me, he was saying,

"Where are you from?"

I didn't want to give him anything.

I thought if I withhold information,

if I just make something up,

then he'll have nothing to work with.

He said, "Where are you from?"

I said, "Llanbobl."

And he laughed in my face like you did.

And I said, "Why are you laughing?

You haven't even been there."

I was fairly confident

he wouldn't have been there...

what with it not existing, you know.

But he said, "Yes, I have, it's a dump."

Which freaked me out a bit.

And ever since then, I've always gone

on stage and said, "I'm from Llanbobl."

Not in this show, not tonight,

not in this show.

I told you at the start

I'd made up Llanbobl,

but in previous years I would always go out

on stage and say, "I'm from Llanbobl."

And every night somebody would laugh.

Yeah, and every night I'd say, "Why are

you laughing? Have you been there?"

And nine times out of ten they hadn't,

to be fair.

It's not that surprising, it doesn't exist,

it's a fair enough statistic.

But every now and again,

somebody would stick their hand up

and say, "I've been there."

Whether they're confused with Welsh place

names or tired or drunk, I don't know,

but somebody'd stick their hand up.

I've had some crackers in the past.

Four years ago in the Edinburgh Festival

there was a guy who'd been there

and his daughter still lived there.

That was exciting for us in Llanbobl

when the real people started turning up.

We had the bunting out and all sorts.

It's true. I've had...

His daughter was engaged to a local!

Said she's marrying a Llanbobl boy.

He asked me if I'd do

the entertainment at their wedding,

he said, "My daughter'd love it."

I thought, "I'm not sure how I'd feel."

Could be quite a tough gig, that.

On the one side, the bride's family,

down the other a load of people I invented.

Could be tricky, couldn't it?

I had somebody who went to university

in Llanbobl.

I thought it was a polytechnic

when I invented it, but we let that go.

I said, "What did you study?"

She said, "Geography."

"Good course, was it?"

And then not so long ago, well, a couple of

years ago, in the Edinburgh Festival,

there was this English rugger bugger type.

See, we don't really get

the posh gene in Wales.

We don't have the posh middle-class thing.

This guy was all inherited wealth

and public school.

We don't get that type of person,

we're a working-class lot,

and to be fair, we've got a bit of

a chip on our shoulder about it,

but this guy was all... the uniform,

you know, the cords and brogues,

the rugby jersey with

the collars turned up,

outside the sweater, you know.

He took enormous pleasure in telling me

that his team had hammered Llanbobl

only three weeks previously.

"We hammered them! They were rubbish!

They only had 13 men!

"We had to lend them two of our chaps!"

I thought, "You're bloody lucky

anybody turned up, mate.

"It was the Llanbobl carnival

the night before,

"that's the biggest piss-up

of the year for us."

I said, "What was the score?" He said,

"I don't know, 60-odd 20-something."

I thought, "We scored 20-odd points?

Fair play, we're improving."

He said, "Yeah, we scored 60-odd."

I thought, "I don't give a shit.

"I don't know what imaginary league this is

"or what imaginary teams

we're going to come up against

"but if this comes to a relegation battle,

those 20-odd points could be bloody handy.

"If we get Atlantis in the playoffs

it could make all the difference."

I was talking to him after

the show, this guy.

He was all right. You know, we got chatting

in the bar and he was all right.

Well, no, he wasn't, he was a dick.

Well, he was an all right dick,

you know the kind.

He was all right but he was a dick.

He was just one of those people

who was just drunk

and just enjoyed, derived great pleasure

in rubbishing the place

where you come from, you know.

And I kept in touch with him.

Not best friends or anything, just loosely

on these social networking sites,

MySpace and Facebook and...

Cos I had this plan, you see,

because he can remember what he wants

to remember about Llanbobl,

that it was a dump

and that they hammered us,

but he was on a rugby tour for a week,

he was drunk the whole week,

he can't remember where it was.

So I thought,

"I'd love to invite him back there."

It's not hard to doctor a map, is it?

Change Llandysul, Llandyssil,

change that to Llanbobl,

give him really detailed directions

and send the little shit

on a wild-goose chase.

And then I thought, "What's the point?"

You know, "What are you really

going to achieve by that?

"Nothing's really worked out for you

in the real world,

"you should cut your losses and get out.

"It's all been a disaster."

And do you know what, even that night,

do you know what happened?

I was sat in the services

like this in this chair

and they called the police.

They called the police. And in many ways

it would be a better ending to the show

if they'd arrested me

or done something exciting,

but they didn't arrest me,

they didn't even caution me.

They found the whole thing highly

bloody amusing, if you want the truth.

They suggested I fill out a comments card.

You saw the state of me earlier.

A comments card?

That's the epitome of the service culture

I hate so much.

Nothing sums it up better

than a bloody comments card.

I thought, "I'm not doing that." Nobody reads

those things, nobody sends those things in.

Then I thought,

"Well, if that's all I've got, I'll do it.

"If that's the only option

I've got, I'll do it."

So I sat in this chair for over an hour

writing the most sarcastic letter...

And the police helped me.

Writing the most sarcastic letter I've ever

written in my life to Mark Robertson.

I didn't think I'd get a reply.

But three months later,

in March, I received quite a lengthy reply

from Knutsford services,

the edited highlights of which

I will read to you now.

Cos this email was three pages long.

I've cut it down to a page because...

between you and me,

Mark Robertson's a dull bastard.

This'll give you some idea of how sarcastic

the letter I wrote to him was.

These are some of the bits

that I found quite entertaining.

"Dear Mr Gilbert,

"Thank you for choosing...

"..choosing Knutsford

motorway service area.

"We take all customers' comments

very seriously.

"I'm sorry to hear that you had

such an unpleasant journey that day

"and that I was not there

to welcome you in person.

"While I can appreciate

your disappointment,

"I'm sure that you understand

that my duties are many and varied,

"and as much as I would like to,

I am unable to meet and greet customers

"on an individual basis.

"I am heartened to hear that you found

the washroom facilities spotless...

"..and sorry about the misunderstanding

"with the gentleman who was clearly

less satisfied than you were.

"While the frustration and embarrassment

you felt was evident from your remarks,

"as a cautionary note I would advise

"you do not take matters

into your own hands in future.

"It is fortunate for all parties

that the situation did not escalate."

I've cut out some stuff there

about locking people in the toilets.

"On a related point,

"cleaning intervals are posted

for motorists' benefit,

"but I feel you may have misunderstood

the purpose of this information.

"You say that you were upset that you were

unable to wait around to watch the cleaners.

"The intention of providing

this information

"is to reassure customers

that cleanliness and hygiene

"are as important to us at Knutsford

as they are to you at home -

"it is not really a

matter of entertainment.

"You do not say how old your nephew is,

"but a number of entertainments already

exists for young people at Knutsford,

"including an outdoor play compound

for younger visitors

"and a games area for the over-18s.

"I do not feel that more regular

cleaning intervals

"would enhance this aspect of our offer.

"Furthermore, we would not be able

to organise a private cleaning display

"for your nephew...

"..and as a parent of two young boys,

"I hope you will not mind my suggesting

that he and his friends

"might enjoy his birthday celebrations

far more elsewhere.

"As regards your other suggestions...

"the range of goods on sale at Knutsford...

"reflects the diverse needs

of today's motorist.

"I'm glad you've already found

the folding chair useful...

"and I'm sure it will give you

many hours of pleasure in the future.

"The range of torches on offer

"is admittedly geared towards the motorist,

"but if the model you purchased

is too powerful,

"you may be able to find an alternative

that better meets your needs.

"I am no expert on the subject,

and confess I do not know

"whether a torch equivalent

to the power of two candles exists.

"In view of our location,

"we have no plans to offer beds

or bed linen now or in the future...

"and I am unsure what you mean

by a one-million-tog duvet.

"On a personal note, thank you for your

kind words regarding my photograph.

"This is essentially a customer interface

"giving motorists a point of contact

in the event of problems.

"While your suggestions

for alternative poses...

"certainly provided food for thought...

"I did not feel that any would give the right

impression or suit this specific purpose.

"Finally, I am sorry that standards

in the Caffè Ritazza concession

"did not meet your expectations.

"The mince pies proved

a popular seasonal addition

"to what I believe to be

an outstanding menu,

"and I am happy to confirm

that they were indeed award-winning.

"As a valued customer, you were of course

entitled to a fuller explanation,

"and while this response

may come a little late,

"I hope that it will still

interest you to know

"that the award in question

was best mince pie.

"I hope this answers

the questions you raised."

Blah, blah, blah. "We look forward to

welcoming you again at Knutsford services

"and I'm confident your experience will be

considerably more positive next time."

It wasn't.

"Kind regards, Mark Robertson,

General Area Manager Northwest."

I was a bit disappointed it wasn't

best supporting mince pie, to be honest.

Or most innovative use of mincemeat.

But I... I was quite chuffed to get that.

You know, that's my first little success

in the real world.

But I thought, it's not

really enough, is it?

It's not really enough

to keep me in the real world.

I'm still gonna go back to Llanbobl.

But I did feel a little bit empowered. You

know, I did feel a little bit empowered.

I thought, if I can pull that off,

what else can I do?

So, via the medium of MySpace,

I started inviting rugger bugger...

back to Llanbobl, and I invited him,

and I invited him,

and I invited him, and I invited him,

and eventually...

he accepted my invitation

and I doctored a map very carefully

and gave him very detailed directions.

And when he came to Llanbobl,

my friends and I waited for him, erm...

and we followed him, and, erm...

and we filmed him.

Cos I thought, "If I'm gonna go back,

"then I'm gonna take that

little shit with me."

Thank you.

♪ Men of Harlech in the hollow

♪ Do ye hear like rushing billow

♪ Wave on wave that surging follow

♪ Battle's distant sound?

♪ 'Tis the tramp of Saxon foemen

♪ Saxon spearmen, Saxon bowmen

♪ Be they knights or hinds or yeomen

♪ They shall bite the ground!

♪ Loose the folds asunder

♪ Asunder

♪ Flag we conquer under!

♪ Conquer under

♪ The placid sky now bright on high

♪ Shall launch its bolts of thunder!

♪ Onward! 'Tis the country needs us

♪ He is bravest, he who leads us

♪ Honour's self now proudly heeds us

♪ Freedom, God and Right!

♪ Loose the folds asunder

♪ Asunder

♪ Flag we conquer under!

♪ Conquer under

♪ The placid sky now bright on high

♪ Shall launch its bolts of thunder!

♪ Onward! 'Tis the country needs us

♪ He is bravest, he who leads us

♪ Honour's self now proudly heeds us

♪ Freedom, God and Right! ♪

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,

thank you very, very, very much,

each and every one of you.

I hope you've enjoyed the show.

I really, really appreciate you coming out

and supporting me.

Thank you very, very, very, very much.

Cheers.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you.