Sunday, March 27, 2011


It was time to start the revolution so I put on my Slipknot t-shirt, headed into town, and spray painted the words ‘Class War’ on a bus shelter.

Lo and behold, next thing I knew, the working classes were out on the streets waving baseball bats and shovels. They were chanting the mantra ‘Class War! Class War! We never thought of that before!’ and headed uptown to where the richies live and control the media and all that type of thing.

Speaking of the media, I suddenly found myself surrounded by journalists and camera crews. They were all roaring questions at me:
‘Do you really think Class War is the solution?’
‘Are you prepared to take responsibility if someone gets hurt?’
‘Do you know where we can get some decent coke?’

I didn’t answer any of their questions. Instead, I pulled my t-shirt up over my lower face, flipped the camera the bird and shouted ‘OLD LADIES, WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!’

The old ladies thing worked a treat. It was on the news that night and all over the papers the next day. ‘Rioters Threaten Nice Old Ladies!’ No one minded when the law put the boot into the revolutionaries after that. Feeling betrayed, demoralised and quite ashamed, the multitudes that rose up the day before returned to their homes that evening. I was back in my flat long before them, taking a call from the secret service.
‘Well done Mr. Fugger, you’ve released the pressure valve. Has to be done from time to time. Should stop Joe and Jenny Pleb getting any fancy notions for a while. The cheque is in the post.’
I put the phone down, put my feet up and listened to my Angela Lansbury Reads the Poetry of Matthew Arnold CD, relaxing in the knowledge that I was on the winning side.

‘And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.’

Ah, . . .sweetness and light.



Interesting, the same thing happened along the east coast only it was a bunch of gaiety theatre students dressed in capri pants, loafers and M&S lambswool sweaters clicking their fingers while walking threatening towards people. Not sure what kind of 'war' it was but they sang a lot - like Glee. Had us all indoors terrified for about an hour.

Fugger said...

Sounds like a Gaiety Theatre Black Block Improv Group. A fairly hard bunch that lot. Hard to watch that is! BOOM BOOM! (insert 'LOL' here)

barrymore said...

Well I mean….youre always going to have civil unrest. People unhappy with their lot! I remember the canteen ladies at Thames Studios having a dispute over pay, they were on a go slow and it was causing some hardship. I thought, this isn’t right these ladies work hard they want paying. So I gets up, I remember I was having a cup of tea with someone or other and and there was some grumbling in the queue people were getting frustrated cause it was lunch hour. So I gets up on the counter of the hot food area and I start shouting ‘lets have a whip round for the ladies and you might get your egg and chips a bit quicker!’ Silence. ‘Come on, lets have it!’ Well I mean I wasn’t having it. My old mum grafted all her life to give me a good start so I kept on haranguing at the top of my voice. After a while when I had everyones attention I remember looking down and there was Michael Aspel holding a tray and looking at me and my producer with Cheryl on the phone. Funny thing is years later I did the same thing again at the BAFTA awards and it worked quite well. The point I’m making is its all very well letting off a bit of steam but it generally just dissipates UNLESS you’re in a highly pressurised situation like in a pressure cooker. Then you’ll see what steam can do! Cooks a stew in no time