Simon Cowell by Bill Coles

Author:Bill Coles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Legend Press

Chapter 19

Fawlty Towers: one of my favourites, you know. I still chuckle at the memory of John Cleese goose-stepping around the lobby as he bellows, “Don't mention ze war!”

The Office: another classic. Who could ever forget Ricky Gervais and his imbecilic dancing?

The thing that both these shows had in common was they only ran for two series. Both Gervais and Cleese quit while their shows were right at the very top of the heap, the viewers just gagging for more.

And that, I guess, was Piers' theory about What Simon Did Next. We'd barely been running a week, were being watched by over a billion people all round the world – and yet what does Piers do? He brings it to the biggest car-crash conclusion in the history of reality T V, thus ensuring that, even years afterwards, TV executives were still in thrilled awe of Piers' genius.

Admittedly, there may have been a very few residual side-effects, such as, well, the slight dent to my hitherto pristine reputation – but you know in this showbiz game, it's all swings and roundabouts. So it's true that, for some considerable time, most of the sentient world was treating me like the Pariah of Pariahs; and it's also true that I had such ill luck in the bedroom that I became, to all intents and purposes, a born-again virgin.

But there has been an upside too – and such an upside as would transform my world, revealing as it did not just the sheer, greedy shallowness of my own life heretofore, but also giving me wisdom such as I could only have dreamed of.

Mind you – at the time, I may not have been quite so generous.

“Very nasty,” said Piers as he stuck another piece of plaster to my chin. “How on earth did Maguire manage to cut you so badly?”

“He'd got a pinkie ring,” I muttered. “Every time he hit me, he was cork-screwing the ring into my face.”

“That's Maguire for you!” laughed Piers. “I thought he warned you that he has a very violent temper.”

“As it happens, I did know about Maguire's volcanic temper,” I said testily. “But somehow, somewhere along the way, no-one bothered to tell me that the show was going to end with Cheryl blubbing away as Maguire beat me to a pulp.”

“Hey – it's only a game!” laughed Piers. “Why so serious all of a sudden?”

“Jesus!” I said. “Easy there!” Piers, who though he may be saintly is unlikely ever to cut it as a nurse-maid, was sloshing TCP directly onto my wounds. We were down in the cellar of Cheryl's house and for once we were alone. Well – now that the show had been canned, what was the point in having Maguire and his film crews?

“I know it's just a game!” I said. “But the mug-punters don't know that! That's the point of reality TV – the idiots think it's real!”

“More fool them!” Piers cackled to himself. “Oooh, that's going to be one hell of a shiner you've got there,” he says.

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