The Apprentice

After a hard day at the emporium where i supervised my assistant Josiah Quint as he fashioned a new truss out of a discarded Watney's Party Seven tin, a bicycle pedal and a hair net, i retired to the flat above the shop intent on rest and relaxation with a good bottle of single malt and some raspberry jam. No sooner had i settled in front of the TV to watch Colin and Justin in their eagerly anticipated masterclass "Two jessies go househunting in a Range Rover" than the telephone rang and i was reminded by my new friend the recorded voice on the BT alarm call service that i was due at the Nag's Nostril for a bit of a social and a meeting with my old mate Sir Alan Sacharine (or Aspartame if you prefer). He has been pestering me for the last eight weeks for advice regarding his new money making vehicle "The Apprentice", a highly popular televisual treat that is currently being broadcast by the BBC.

In this program twelve victims have been chosen to compete for a job paying £100,000 per year. As I explained to his royal sweetness in the bar early on in the series, i wouldn't work for him if he paid ten times that amount. "I know you too well old thing; you'd spend all your time breathing down my neck and checking up on me. You're a control freak and no matter how you try to dress yourself up you're still a market trader and proud of it! And you won't want anyone shouting the odds on your stall except your goodself." Of course he takes it in good part, as he and i have been good friends since the time that i helped him out of a tight spot by fashioning a particularly outstanding facial toupe just in time for his investiture at the palace; he'd managed to get his own face fur singed in a particularly dodgy deal with a bloke called Drake (or was it Raleigh?), something to do with Spanish Armadillo smuggling. Anyway the McNasty "Brash yet humble" design perfectly complemented his ready wit and repartee. Her Majesty was most impressed with my latest innovation; the tone control, which allows the wearer to choose the appropriate smattering of grey simply by adjusting a wheel built into the cufflinks of the wearer. Sir Sacharine was able to demonstrate various settings ranging from, "cute and amiable", through "impish yet masterful" to "worn out and vindictive".

I told him that if anyone should get the old heave ho from his televised barrow boy training school this week, it had to be the boy Sayeed; "You can't have two Alan Sacharines working together", I said. "But i like the guy", came the reply. "Exactly!", I countered.

Fur ever friends

I could not help noticing that my old friend and his charming new wife were on the TV last night complaining about the fur trade again. The "McItsokyoucangetoffyourknees" are a dedicated pair of do gooders that never cease to amaze with their constant campaigning on matters that those of us who have a mortgage to pay either couldn't give a stuff about or are too busy keeping the wolves from the door to get involved.

I must say, that I, like so many of my friends from the Dog and Ferret, am horrified at the prospect of soft furry animals being used as adornment for the so called bodies of half-starved bony apologies for women that pass themselves off as stylish and sell the rights to their continuous weddings and hard luck stories to "Ok" and "Hello" magazines.

Having conducted a straw poll at the bar yesterday evening I can report that most of us would prefer to see a few buxom well fed wenches, such as Marylyn Monroe or Mrs Thatcher wearing a smile and very little else than a walking skeleton wrapped in leopard skin pouting moodily as she glides down a catwalk contemplating her next mug of cocoa. (Which i believe is their recreational drug of choice.)

So I'm right behind Sir Macca and his bird, good luck to them, they have my support, which is ironic when you consider that I am currently renovating one of his! Of course though he may deny it I can exclusively reveal that he has been a client ever since the late sixties when I had to knock up that ridiculous bushy beard for the "Let it Be" album. Since then we have enjoyed a very close hate, hate relationship as I have helped him through the ups and downs of his career. From the highs of "Ebony and Ivory" to the crazed depravity of "The Frog Chorus", McNasty has been somewhere providing soothing balm, hair nets and surgical support stockings for McCarthy. In fact in the word of one of the songs that i gave to him before he became famous it seems like only "yesterday", (although it was probably never), that he came personally to the emporium for a fresh supply of the almost orange dye that I normally use on my 'not quite ginger but so obvious it's dyed' range. He's also got me working on a custom truss for his upcoming 'Zimmers over America' tour....It's such a shame though that he spoiled his good name with those communist witch hunts all those years ago.....