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Revealed
Revealed
Revealed
Ebook73 pages55 minutes

Revealed

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Did you know Jack Dee was a hostage negotiator, Jeremy Paxman a champion bare fist boxer, and Cilla Black immortal? Discover twenty two extraordinary confessions straight from the mouths of the celebrities themselves in this candid tell all that will leave you shaking your head in disbelief, and arm you with a mountain of knowledge to impress your mates down the pub.

For the first time ever these well known celebrities have decided to go on record and tell the shocking truth. Forget anything else you might have heard, set your expectations to eleven, and prepare to be astonished.

Excerpt:

The Mighty Potter

I've lost a bit of weight recently so the lyrca doesn't chafe in the crotch so much. There was a time a while back when it took me so long to put the outfit on, by the time I got there, the whole thing was over. I had to make sure I took the outfit off before anyone saw me, and then try to explain why a reasonably well known comedian seemed to constantly be turning up at crime scenes just after the police had arrived. That was always a bit embarrassing.
I'm not quite at my target yet, but I've dropped a belt size and I'm making steady progress. Last week I saved a pensioner from slipping into a hole in the road in Dorking, and rescued a confused squirrel from a length of discarded piping, at the back of an estate in Chigwell. A couple of months ago, I'd never have got to either of those places in time. I'm easing myself back into it, so I don't want to take the difficult jobs on too soon.
I've got the hearing, the super strength and the flying, but I only ever use them to save people, and sometimes, very rarely, to sort out particularly persistent hecklers. I had one guy at a gig in Chester who wouldn't leave me alone, so I waited until the end of the show, picked him up while he was walking to his car, flew him to Blackpool and dropped him off at the top of the tower. He was up there for six hours until the police finally managed to get him down.
I've been spotted by the media a few times, but I refuse to give interviews, and nobody has guessed yet that it's me. I was a little upset by the 'too fat to be a superhero' headline the guardian went for recently, and also the one in the mail asking 'Is this what James Cordon gets up to off set?' with a picture of him crudely photo-shopped onto my body. Where do they get these journalists from?
My costume is mint green lycra with gold piping down the arms, a maroon cape with velour trim and turquoise dusting, and fire-engine red, mid-shin boots. I have to get those with an orthotic insert due to a collapsed arch I got clearing snow off railway lines in Cumbria. I managed to slip on a bit of compacted ice between the sleepers, and it's not been the same since.
When I'm not Johnny Vegas, I call myself 'The Mighty Potter', which I'll admit sounds a little bit like I'm a superhero snooker player, but I've always been into ceramics, so I wanted to choose a name to reflect that. On the front of my costume I've got a pagoda shaped lidded pot designed by Bernard Leach and then my name written across it in what looks like slip trailing.
The only person who knows it's me is my mum, but I needed someone to do the adjustments and I'm crap with a needle and thread. I've made her promise not to tell The Sun, even if she's a bit strapped for cash.


 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherFergus Crotty
Release dateDec 5, 2013
ISBN9781497766587
Revealed
Author

Fergus Crotty

Fergus Crotty is a hugely imaginative, experimental creative writer with a distinctive, incomparable style. His work exists in beautifully constructed worlds painted with the subtle balance of his unique prose style, that reveals a mixture of delicately manipulated language, newly invented words, and evolutions of grammatical structure. He is a writer that, not so much likes to break the rules, as completely de-construct them altogether, mix them all up and put them back together in a different order so they vaguely resemble what they once were before, and then, like a proud parent, release them into the wild. His writing explores a range of intense emotional states, and is often liberally permeated by his dark, cynical sense of humour. Also a passionate scriptwriter, in 2010 he reached the final of the prestigious PAGE Screenwriting Awards, where he placed in the final hundred feature length scripts from 4412 global submissions. In the same year, he reached the quarter finals of the Oscars affiliated Nicholl Fellowship in Screenwriting Awards. He is an avid traveller, and currently lives in Spain.

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    Revealed - Fergus Crotty

    Leonora (the meat selling tranny)

    WHEN I PUT THE DRESS on, fake boobs, high heels, tousled blonde wig and lippy, I'm not Lenny anymore. I'm Leonora. I didn't tell Dawn about it at first but it got harder to hide. She started wondering where her foundation was going, then she smelt perfume on me and I had to confess. She thought I was having an affair. I'm not sure if she thinks the truth is any better. I've invited her to come with me when I go, but she says she's just not ready for it yet.

    It started when I starred as Tina, the put upon wife to Keith Barron's maniacal husband, in a quirky short film about domestic violence called Wounded. The fourth season of Chef had been flatly rejected by the commissioning board at the BBC, and it'd been a while since I'd worked. Wounded seemed like an interesting challenge so I took it on, and found myself entirely consumed by the role. I told Keith and the production team I wanted to really become Tina, and even though they said it wasn't necessary for such a niche production, I kept the wig and dress on all week. The truth is, as soon as I put them on, something just felt right.

    The film was released at the end of 1997 and was warmly received by critics. It had a small festival run and picked up an audience award at Raindance. Even Dawn liked it. I remind her of this when I become Leonora, but she just shakes her head and tells me i've changed.

    When the production finished, I went to the wrap party as Tina, and took the dress and wig home. I still have it, tucked into a box at the back of the wardrobe, and it's the one I wear on special occasions, or when sales aren't going too well and I need cheering up.

    When the TV and film work dried out completely, I went through a bit of bad patch. I had a few ideas for sitcoms, but nobody wanted to touch them, and despite the critical success of Wounded, no more film work presented itself. Eventually, I had a letter through from my agent saying the Comic Relief contract had lapsed and wasn't being renewed. A week later he sent another saying he was stepping down and moving onto pastures new, and advised me to do the same.

    I was so upset I pulled on the Tina outfit and sat there in my living room with tears streaming mascara down my face. If it hadn't been for the dress, I might have contemplated radio, I felt that low.

    It was actually Richard Griffiths who got me into the meat. We'd become friends during a sit in protest at the BBC canteen over rising soup prices, and he told me how he supplemented his income by getting trade price halal meat from his butcher cousin and selling it from a sports holdall to other parents at his kids weekend football matches. He said on a good day he could make almost a hundred quid, and still have enough left over for a sunday roast and sandwiches in the week.

    I called Richard and he agreed to hook me up, on the understanding that I'd stay away from the sports grounds. He said he'd spent a few years cornering that turf and had family members and a few BBC researchers now on the payroll, from Hackney marshes to Wimbledon Common. It was a lucrative racket.

    For my first outing, I made a few adjustments to the Tina dress, plastered enough of Dawn's make up on my face to cover a manhole and took the tube up to Manor House. My heart was beating so fast I had to hold my chest just to stop it falling out. I walked along green lanes tall and proud, with my hair flowing delicately in the breeze and felt like a woman.

    I made two more trips out as Tina, before I found the dress that would transform me into Leonora, and become the perfect outfit for my meat selling career.

    It was an off the shoulder floral print satin dress in crimson and gold, with crushed velvet hem and piping, and was absolutely perfect. I rushed home that day, and, stood in front of the full length mirror with Tina's wig and Dawn's make up, Leonora was born.

    I waited until I had a free weekend - Dawn was out filming a Murder Most Horrid special on the Isle of Man, called Richard to

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