I’m anticipating a heap of complaints over the opening episode of the Late Late. Not due to the skit we did with the ushers singing with mock-Italian accents but rather because of that Magick Macabre lot.
For those that aren’t as informed as myself, they’re a group of magicians known for doing all sorts of freaky shit. They obviously had to tone it down for TV, but somehow I think the older viewers still might get offended by seeing a leather-clad gimp pass through the stomach of a big beardy man. They ought to see Gerry Ryan’s bachelor pad on a Wednesday night. That would really put the fear into you.
The thing is, I do owe those magicians a great deal. I managed to get myself into a great deal of trouble during the show and they helped me hide in one of their magic box things.
“But Pat, you’re loved by everyone! How did you get in trouble?” I hear you ponder. Well some of my guests took offence at what I said to them. First off, I accidentally insulted the Olympic Medal-winning boxers. I merely suggested to one of them that he should move out of his mother’s house now that he’s more famous. I DID NOT IMPLY HE WAS A MOMMA’S BOY!
If that wasn’t bad enough, I then made an ill-advised crack about the other boxer joining Weight Watchers after he takes a break from training. I WAS NOT CALLING HIM A FAT LOAD!
Speaking of moody people who should join Weight Watchers, we then had the Taoiseach Brian Cowen make an appearance. After grilling him about the economy and the usual “You Screwed Us Over, Cowen” type questions, I made a mistake of suggesting that he’d be back on later to sing like Pavarotti. He didn’t like that comparison. I was just joking. It’s not like I expected him back at the end in a dress so I could do the “Not over until the fat lady sings” joke.
I went for the hat-trick of ballsing things up then with the Riverdancing crowd. I meant to give the girl in the dance a peck on the cheek to say hello. But she ducked and I connected with the dude. He wasn’t happy. And that guy sure can kick hard.
So anyhow, later on in the show I had to hide due to Cowen, the boxers and the dancer all coming after me, looking to give me a beating. But thanks to those magicians I was able to hide until the guests had to leave. Disaster averted.
Thing is, I’m a little pissed off as it meant that I didn’t get to do my bit in the group finale performance of Bohemian Rhapsody. I was planning to do a guitar solo surrounded by fireworks and everything.
That’s me in rehearsals before the show. Yes. It’s a real tiger. It would have been an amazing spectacle.
Instead, I end up cramped in a box, while the tiger ended up biting the orchestra conductor in the arse.
Oh well. These things happen.