Monday, 28 November 2011

#11 Dean Cromwell

What? No. I never did get to meet Mr Cowell. Even after gluing myself to his car. He has people you see. People who check things are safe for him before he gets in. And obviously with me glued to the bonnet of his Mercedes he just never came out. I suppose it would all have been quite funny but for the severe injuries I sustained and the several skin graft operations I had to endure afterwards. Never glue yourself to a car, that’s my advice.

Of course the most embarrassing thing about the whole affair was being wheeled into Mothwicke General, where I’m Chief Administrator. Very difficult to maintain disciple when you’ve contravened a number of safety pamphlets you yourself have co-authored. A harsh lesson learned let me tell you.

But it wasn’t all bad. Mr Cowell sent me a nice letter, asking me if I was all right and insisting I pay for the damage to his car, which was only fair.

Why did I do it? Well, I just think the country needs the chance to hear my voice. I genuinely feel that I could enrich people’s experience, touch them in a way that’s rare and precious. In a way I otherwise couldn’t. And this is coming from someone with keys to a mortuary!

That last part was a joke. You’ll have to forgive my crazy sense of humour. I’m quite the card around work. That’s what people are always saying about me. “Who’s that special guy?” they’ll say probably. “Who’s that guy who looks like he can really belt out a Howard Jones track?” “He looks like he’s crazy!” That’s what people say about me, I bet.

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