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that situation before. Told you it was nasty.

      I swore a lifelong debt of hatred to Gretisson for that. And as for Cunley, I still have sharp stabbing memories of him when I run up the stairs quickly. Enough said.

      I fucked up my “O” Levels not because I was stupid and naughty but because I was a wide-eyed anarchist at the gates of dawn even then and the world was against me, especially the teachers and the examination board because they had heard of me and they were jealous. I was like the Outsider and I don’t mean like the one in that shit book by Albert what’s-his-face. The only “O” Level that I did get was in English—it was a breakthruogh cutting edge grade six. And that was a pass, not like they say. That’s right, a pass. And that’s a fact, viewer. Rik Mayall got an “O” Level. In English. Go back and read that last sentence again—and read it out loud. Go on. Although what you do is your own business. That’s the thing about life. People. They’re all over the place. It’s exciting—and dull. And you don’t even have to do what I say if you don’t want to because I’m Rik Mayall, so don’t worry about it or even think about it. It’s as though you haven’t read the last paragraph which if you haven’t, well then, that’s fine. See if I care. Which I do and I don’t. See? That’s the beauty of my enigmas.

      Headmaster’s Wife

      Headmaster’s Office

      King’s School

      Worcester

      April 14 1972

      

      Dear Headmaster’s Wife,

      

      I think I might be in love with you. I have seen you looking at me and I think you would probably like to do some fucking with me. Please do not tell your husband because he is a real old bloody bastard and I bet he cannot get erections like I can. I bet he needs that stallion cream like they sell in nude magazines. We could make love to each other on his bed. I want to do this to you because I am Gretisson, the nasty one with the curly hair. Please do not tell your husband because I will be expelled. My parents vote Labour as well. Please come round to my study and masturbate me whilst I read my magazines with naked women in them. You can even see my balls if you like and smoke some of my drugs which will make you high like a hippy at Woodstock and you can take all your clothes off and wear flared trousers and show off your midriff and not wear a bra. And you can call me Man and we can masturbate together to the Beatles (but not their disappointing phase) and wear those ridiculous blue glasses like John Lenin wears and sit around and talk about the sky and the trees. We could go and watch Bob Dillon singing out of tune and complain about the Vietman war together and read Oz Magazine and fight the power. I am Gretisson and I want to do it with you all night long.

      

      Best wishes,

      

      Gretisson.

      

      Mr Priddy

      Masters’ Common Room

      King’s School

      Worcester

      April 15th 1972

      

      Dear Mr Priddy,

      

      You are a complete spasmo. That’s what I think. And if you give me yet another straight “A” in class for one of my appalling essays which I crib anyway, I will creep into your bedroom in the middle of the night with a knife between my teeth like in that film that was on the TV a couple of weeks ago and I will kill you in your sleep. Yes I will. This is not a joke. This is for real. I know where you live. Just off the parade—the one with the shit orange curtains. So just watch out. Please don’t tell the headmaster that I have sent you this death threat because I will be expelled.

      

      Best wishes,

      

      Spencer (the one with the speech impediment and the girl’s haircut who’s always blaming Mayall when he gets pushed down the stairs).

      

      DAIRY EXERPT

      January 14th 1970

      

      I think I did a bit of a fib today Lord because I felt obliged to tell Mr Townsend that Gretisson had some what are called “gentleman’s publications” if I can use such disgusting words in front of you dear Lord. Sure enough, when Mr Townsend went to Gretisson’s locker he found some. And thankfully, Gretisson has been suspended for this outrage. Of course this action means that I will now have a much better chance of getting the part of Othello in the school play. So if I might ask for forgiveness from you dear Lord for any advantage I may have got by telling Mr Townsend this but, in its own way, it was a selfless act Lord meaning that the part of Othello will be performed so much better by me and bring more joy to the audience which is my motorvation. All I care for is my fellow humans on yours and my planet. That is why I stitched Gretisson up and used my superior intelligence to take care of matters. He will thank me in later life. Thou and I both know that oh Lord. It is good that I know how equal everybody is aren’t I. If only the people in the government were not more like me. I have got nothing against Harold Wilson, I mean I know he doesn’t comb his hair very well and his pipe smoking is a bit common but he does his best. Maybe one day I could be Prime Minister. It is up to you dear Lord.

      Thank you for making me milk monitor this term. As you probably already know, this is a very important position which I am going to take very seriously and I told everyone in the class that we should not drink all the milk and save it up and send it to the people who are starving in poor countries. But Redfern got some other boys together and they punched and kicked me after double maths. I knew that this was a test oh Lord and I took the test and I didn’t cry and I remembered all of their names when I reported them to the Headmaster. I had almost all of them beaten and three of them were put in detention. A job well done. I have got three boys expelled and two boys, including Gretisson, suspended since the start of term. I trust I am doing what is required of I.

      

      I hope you are keeping well.

      

      Fondest wishes,

      

      Richard Mayall.

       SHOWBUSINESS GOLD *

      Literally anything can happen twenty four hours a day in showbusiness. That’s just what it’s like. There are secrets to be told and lives can be ruined. It’s all true, every syllable of it. But what I do NOT do is drop litter on the showbusiness super-highway. I’m a careful driver I am and I always use litter bins although they can be difficult to find when you’re doing 127mph in the outside lane. But if you’re really cool, you should always drive with the lights off at night—that way, you’re just part of the darkness. There are autograph hunters everywhere. I’m often thinking to myself, is that a road pile up ahead? Or is it another autograph roadblock? Not that I’ve got anything against autographs. I live for them. Fans are always hurling themselves into the road—metaphorically speaking obviously—to stop me driving past without giving them an autograph.

      Anyway, what was I talking about? That’s it—acting. Rules for good edge cutting acting: first off, try not to allow any other acters on stage when you are on it. They will deflect attention away from you. If they do manage to get on, make sure that you stand in front of them. But before any of that, before you even get on stage or even turn up for rehearsals, make sure you’ve got the biggest part (see fourth sentence of last paragraph). Sometimes it’s worth taking money to the auditions. And if you are a love interest in the play then make sure that you beef up your love equipment. Two tennis balls is good but three tennis balls and a cucumber should really hit the nail on the head. But worth