No, I think you must have mistaken me for someone else. I’m the highly original new radical socialist acter and comedian. Although I do have a very large penis.
HEIMI:
I was misinformed. But don’t worry my boy – anything can work to someone’s advantage. In fact, thinking about it, I’ve got a lovely bit of work for you Rikky my favourite client. It’ll play to your strengths in every department, and there’ll be some serious cash as well.
RIK:
Great, now you’re really talking.
HEIMI:
Can you run fast?
RIK:
Like an Olympiad.
HEIMI:
Good. Like dogs?
RIK:
Like dogs is my middle name.
HEIMI:
Looks like we’re in business then. I’m smelling money already.
RIK:
What is it?
HEIMI:
Police.
RIK:
Are they bringing Z Cars back!?
HEIMI:
No, pretty Rik, grab a hold of something solid, it’s even bigger than that. Hold your breath. Intercom buzzes Oh fuck, hold on Rik. Into intercom What is it? Oh right, put him straight through. Picks up phone and becomes nice Hello Director General. I take it you got my message…That’s right. She’s fourteen and she’s prepared to testify. Add to that the photographs that would be found in your house should there be an anonymous tip-off leading to a police search, and I think you’re looking at about fifteen years. Of course I’ll hold for a moment. To Rik It is police and it is television but it’s not exactly a police television programme if you get my meaning. Into phone Ah that’s quite all right Director General. I’m glad that you have reached the right decision. It’s not a good programme that Panorama. I should drop it if I was you…Beg pardon? The reporters? The ones that came here to question me? No, I have no recollection of any reporters making contact with me and neither does my assistant. All my very best wishes to you and your wife, Director General. We never had this conversation. You don’t know me. Bye for now. To Rik Oh dear, sorry about that, I should have mentioned you whilst I had him on the line. Anyway, where were we?
RIK:
The television work you’re lining me up for.
HEIMI:
Ah yes, the police dog training video.
RIK:
The what?
HEIMI:
The police dog training video – they’re looking for someone to play a hooligan.
RIK:
Oh I see, it’s a joke, very good Heimi, ha ha ha!
HEIMI:
Do you see a smile on my face?
RIK:
No, sorry.
HEIMI:
Good, now let me see. Consults diary You’re not going to be anywhere near Watford on Friday morning at about 10 o’clock are you?
RIK:
No.
HEIMI:
Just as well. There’s going to be a nasty gas explosion. It’ll be very tragic. But business is business. Ah, now, let me see. You need to be at Hendon Police Training Centre next Wednesday at 8.30am.
RIK:
Will they send a car for me?
HEIMI:
Oh good heavens no.
RIK:
And what sort of deal are they offering?
HEIMI:
Deal?
RIK:
Money.
HEIMI:
Oh good Lord, he comes in here and he wants to talk to me about money. Trust me Rikky-boy there will be money. There is always money somewhere along the line. Sound of Heimi standing up and Rik getting suddenly very nervous, and very carefully not turning his back on Heimi. Lovely to see you again Rikky, make sure your health insurance is up to date and don’t mention anything to anyone.
RIK:
Thanks Heimi. Thank you very much. I love your work Mr. Fingelstein.
HEIMI:
I can neither confirm nor deny my identity at this juncture but I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all the best for the future. Now, make sure you leave all your details with Big Joan and I’ll be seeing you soon.
RIK:
All right, well, bye then Heimi.
HEIMI:
Be good. This conversation never happened.
Sound of the door opening followed by the sound of sticky tape tearing away from skin and a large cassette recorder crashing to the floor.
And that, viewer, is how I came to be represented by Heimi Mad Dog Fingelstein. It’s just like that dear dear friend of mine, lovely Peter whats-his-name used to say – no, sorry, it’s gone.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, went her head against the toilet door. I’m always doing it with starlets in toilets at film premieres but this film was one of the best I’d seen. I wasn’t in it but it was great all the same, although I did have three lines in that one with what’s-his-name in it – the bloke with the leg – but it wasn’t much to shout about. The main thing is that I’m hard and cool. Like a Kidderminster Bruce Willis.
“Oh Rik, you’re the best.” She could barely speak. Back bottom stuff is always best with American girls.
Bang, bang, bang – her nose went next. I’ve always been such a passionate lover but I thought crikey, I’d better get out of here. There’s blood and teeth everywhere and there’s papperatsi* all over the place outside.
“Check you later, babe, which is American for cheerio, thank you for a charming afternoon in the toilet. I have to go now.”
“Oh Rik, you’re the best lover ever, I can’t wait to not tell anyone about this and keep our secret safe,” she said. “Thank God British television is so shit nowadays. Everyone will go and see my movie now.”
That’s when my blood ran cold. That’s right, my blood ran ice cold at that very moment. She’s right, I thought. The condition of British television is beyond repair. The art form is dead. A year from today there will be just a vast pyre of useless TV sets as the British public go streaming to the cinema instead. This is a situ-fucking-ation. I left the toilet cubicle like a car bomb and went outside.
“Hey Rik Mayall, give us a smile,” said a papperatsi. Whap! Half his camera went back into his eye socket.
