Strongth

Strongth

Once you’ve passed your fiftieth year, you have very few skills remaining and even fewer pleasures, but there is one. Shitting. There is nothing more pleasing that plonking your posterior on the porcelain for a session.   Oh boy, yes, I can still shit!

So, it was fitting that when I received the rare offer of gainful employment it was to participate in a toilet roll commercial. I snapped up the opportunity, of course, it’s rare that you actually get paid for taking a shit.

A man who described himself as Bradley greeted my arrival at the recording studio.

“Thanks for stepping in at the last minute, Mr Damage. We’d booked Sting for the job, but he pulled out at the last moment, apparently he had to save a rainforest from destruction at short notice. It was too late to cancel the studio, we tried everyone, seems like you were the only available TV personality in the whole of England.”

“Always happy to help out. Especially in a role like this – role, get it, as in toilet roll.”

“Very d’roll’ Mr Damage. Right, well you’re a few minutes late so we need to crack on.”

“Is this it? The studio’s no bigger than my front room.”

“Budget cuts. I think that’s the real reason Sting dropped out, we couldn’t pay him enough. I don’t believe this ‘I have to save a rain forest’ crap for one moment. But it’s a toilet roll commercial, so an enclosed space is rather appropriate.”

“So what do I do?”

“I’ll run you through the script. It’s for a new toilet roll, Strongth.”

“Strongth?”

“It’s to emphasise that the toilet roll is both strong and long.”

“What about soft?”

“It’s hard to get that in a one-word name.”

“Stroftong,” I gamely suggested.

“Can we take it as read that the product is called Strongth. If you sit on that chair and read the words on the autocue. And this is your co-star. Meet Bunty.” So saying, he revealed a cage, containing my co-star.

“Dear boy, it’s a snake.”

“Not just any snake. Bunty here is a boa constrictor, the strongest, longest snake in Christendom, 13 foot long and pure muscle.  You’re okay working with snakes aren’t you?”

“Oh fine, you know where you are with snakes.”

“So if you just read the words, and let Bunty do her thing, it’ll be a blast.”

So saying, he took the writhing snake-beast from her cage and passed her to me. To my surprise, she settled immediately, wrapping herself around my neck like a self-assembling scarf, and turning her face to hiss at the camera, like a self-assembling scarf that knows she’s the star.

“And read the words on the autocue.”

“I’m sorry dear boy, I seem to have lost your snake.”

“What do you mean lost the snake? It’s a thirteen foot long boa constrictor, she’s only been out of her cage for a minute.”

“Well she WAS here with me, but she seems to have slithered off.”

“You’re in a room less than 12 foot square, how the hell have you managed to lose a snake that’s bigger than the actual room.”

“Oh I do it all the time, I’m forever losing keys, wallet, anything.”

“Everyone loses keys Mr Damage, they’re small and easily mislaid. Losing a bloody great boa constrictor on the other hand, would be a challenge too far for Derren Brown. But not for you apparently.”

“I’m sure it will turn up. Maybe we could pop out for a quick bite at the local hostelry while we wait?”

“We’ve no time for a quick bite, Mr Damage, the studio is booked for precisely three hours for the purpose of recording one toilet roll advert with one snake.”

“Maybe we could pretend we have a snake.”

“Pretend?”

“It’s worth a try. You can always add the snake in afterwards by photoshop.”

By this time a number of backroom minions had appeared, each contributing to the spirit of panic and confusion.

“We could try it with a mouse,” squeaked a junior assistant.

“Mouse?” Said Brad angrily, “What the fuck are we doing with a mouse? We’re shooting a commercial with a snake, what else have you brought along, a fucking camel?”

“The mouse is Bunty’s lunch. Or was supposed to be,” said the assistant, meekly.

“How would a mouse help? We’re shooting a commercial for Strongth toilet tissues, the emphasis is on their being strong, and long, not small and furry.”

“We could change the emphasis,” pleaded the assistant, “just for this commercial. Focus on their being soft and reliable.”

“And squeaky,” I said. “Mice are famous for squeaking and eating cheese.”

“People do not want cheese-eating, squeaky toilet paper,” said Brad. “Oh well, we’ve nothing to loose. We might as well try it with the mouse. I’ll just tweak the script.”

“If you hold the mouse in one hand and the toilet roll in the other,” he said to me, once he’d finished the re-writes.  He passed the mouse to me with a warning. “Don’t lose the mouse, it’s the only one we have and without it we don’t have a commercial.”

“I shall hang on to it for dear life, dear boy,” I said.

“Right, just hold the mouse and read the words on the autocue,” barked Brad. “Strongth toilet roll, it’s soft and reliable. Don’t say anything about it being bloody squeaky.”

“Hold on,” I said, “Cut. We can’t shoot now.”

Don’t tell me you’ve lost the mouse.”

“Oh on,” I said. “The mouse is safe. But, I seem to have lost your toilet roll.”