Stopping off at the ‘Pego and Puppet’ for a quick pint of ‘Monk’s Harvest Fumble’, I sat outside to enjoy the sunshine and make sure of my facts when it came to moaning about the hot weather, now it’s become a national whinge, courtesy of non stop media carpet bombing. Not as much as Brexit but just as tedious.
The state of my dungarees meant, rather than incite a raft of questions based around ‘did I know what a washing machine was?’ or ‘are you single?’, outside was the best option. I’d not washed them on purpose. Clean fresh dungarees might lead people to believe I was a children’s entertainer which, for many, is a very small step away from ‘kiddie fiddler’. Bouncy, high octane, brightly coloured people bending balloons while waving and gurning at innocent bystanders is clearly quite suspicious.
It was mostly fresh muck and grease, gained from rolling around under Tracey, my mate Eddie’s most treasured possession, a 1989 Alpha Romeo GTV6. It was also his wife’s name, ensuring he sidestepped any minefields. This often backfired, but not the car or his wife, allegedly.
A revving engine caught my attention and, with a cloud of long blond hair billowing out of the sunroof, a small blue van pulled into the pub car park not twenty feet from where I sat.
It was Laura ‘the Sandwich’, a 40 year old-ish lady who put some long hours into her little business. She liked the lads company and was well liked in return: we all often socialised together, apart from Yorkshireman Dick Whatmough, whom she clearly despised. Questionable innuendo was, ironically, not appreciated.
Laura got out of her van and, clearly pissed off, waved, went inside to reappear minutes later with a very large G & T. She sat down opposite me, and necked about six quid’s worth in one go.
‘I’ll be walking home,’ she said, reflectively. ‘Fucking arseholes!’ This had more venom attached, all the more startling coming from such a pretty face.
‘Who’s that, Laura?’
‘That TV crew down by the river. Filming a scene for a crime drama.’
‘You down there flogging sandwiches?’ I inquired.
‘Oh no, better than that! The production people came into my shop last week and asked me to do some catering. All very well if a certain arse of a Prima Donna wasn’t being a twat, stopping filming and ruining all the food.’
‘Shit, what did she do?’
‘It was a he! One of those left wing luvvies with loads of money, full of self importance and media adulation: always finds time to condescend to tell those less well off how to spend their hard earned cash, and what to think!’ She seethed. ‘There’s about twenty of those innocents, aka ‘the crew’, down there now getting fucked over by the idiot.’
‘Wow, he’s pissed you off! Was he a Hobbit?’
‘What?’ Laura looked puzzled. I shook my head and smiled, and she continued. ‘So after a bit I started chatting to a really nice lady, I think she was in a recent Netflix period drama, the sort of thing the BBC used to do well, but have now got too lost with virtue signalling and rewriting history.’
‘I’m guessing she wasn’t pleased with wasting her time?’
‘No – she used lots of words that wouldn’t make it pre watershed. She made me laugh though, especially when she showed me this email on her phone. I got her to send it across to me.’ Laughing, Laura handed her phone across.
This is what I read….
All Agents/Celebrities currently contemplating an appearance on the show ‘What do we think they are?’ – a slightly tweaked format to accommodate any current gender confusion – should be aware of the following, (a points system is in place).
You will need to;
1. Have some background involving the slave trade, preferably not Barbados or Jamaica as the production team fancy somewhere new, St Lucia or Antigua would be good. Any French connection such as Martinique would be very popular. If you are white any involvement in this area, even as indentured workers, would be a non starter. It’s not for white people so you won’t be acceptable.
2. Have a link into social and industrial hardship in the early 19th to early 20th century. Anecdotes about ‘tut’ mill owner and walking 10 miles in hobnailed clogs for a bread and sawdust roll, or similar, are desirable, the more unbelievable the better – remember ‘4 Yorkshiremen’? Banging on about ‘class‘ – a concept that gained traction in the early 20th century but now is puzzling and meaningless to most in the modern world – is a prerequisite (please bring own cloth cap). Any connections to crumpled, daft, left wing politicians; Michael Foot, Tony Benn, Ken Clarke etc, will be vigorously exploited.
3. Show how ‘Votes for Women’ impacted positively on your family history. Suffragette plots to murder men of high status resonate well with some ‘wimmin’ in the production team, as do risqué stories of getting trapped in closets – usually with only rugs to munch on – in Parliament after lights out. Prostitutes from Whitechapel are not suffragettes, although potential ‘Jack the Ripper’ angles will be considered as they appeal to the masses. Any opportunity to slip the word ‘patriarchy’ into the narrative multiple times will not be overlooked.
4. If an ancestor was a member of any single gender organisation or society, perhaps a men’s sports team or scientific body, or a ladies knitting club or amateur theatre group, let us know. We will strongly suggest (make it a ‘fact’!) that they were obviously members of a massive covert LGBT+ network that was part of British society for centuries, and was forcibly suppressed by a very small minority of individuals, who were actually all gay themselves, but were too scared to show their own true rainbow of colours.
5. Be related to someone who participated in the First World War. Preferably some poor working class boy who was blown to pieces on the Somme with all his pals (we can probably crowbar in ‘exploited by the ruling class’). Died in a mustard gas attack is also going to score highly. If additionally a female relative worked in a munitions factory (being blown to pieces is also good here) then that will practically ensure the appearance money will be heading to your bank account soonest.
6. Evidence activity involving the ‘Blitz spirit’ during WW2. Contributing to the war effort despite ‘sanctioned‘ racial obstructions is a big points scorer. Also good are harrowing experiences in concentration camps with low survival rates. ‘Tenko’ type Japanese ones are good right now as we’re trying to avoid the Jewish question. Upsets the Pro Palestinians.
7. Our focus is very much on the alluring unholy trinity of Racism, Misogyny and Homophobia. Highlighting negative social and cultural environments involving people from the past is very much our bread and butter. The programme prides itself on irreverently ‘outing’ people from historical periods who we feel weren’t showing proper liberal 21st century values, (existing 2 or 3 centuries in the past isn’t an excuse, and pointing out how stupid they were, and how clever we are is an easy win), plus we will be really miffed if we’ve missed an opportunity to bang our drum, however irrelevant. We feel it shows how much we’ve drawn attention to bias, bigotry, and misinformation in journalism. No more making up stories, fabricating evidence or lying is our (new?) clarion call. We will just deny such charges anyway, even when confronted with irrefutable evidence – or failing that, we’ll pretend we can’t hear and ignore everyone.
Addendum
‘Celebrity Fixit Shop’ is due for transmission in the New Year. The second series is already being outlined. The above criteria apply here. It goes without saying that items brought in, along with the back-story will not be checked for veracity. A don’t ask, won’t tell policy is in place. Clearly this is entertainment, therefore the truth can go on the back burner, and eventually be removed from the hob entirely if required. Good TV relies on imagination, and the odd fib here and there. We request that expenses for any acquired item are not submitted to us as the ‘institutionalised cash handout’ cannot be utilised in such circumstances. That money is needed for our Ideological personal projects, (such as 2019’s bomb ‘A Christmas Carol’), and the Trump court case. Put it on your own tax return.
I laughed. ‘Always suspected they liked to paint a particular picture.’ Getting up I looked down at her. ‘Another large one for you? Might as well, I’m walking home too, so I’ll be having a pint.’
‘Thanks, I think I will,’ she laughed back.
‘I can also drop you back in the morning for your van.’
‘That’ll be lovely,’ smiled Laura.
Image and Article Copyright © 2026 by L.C McCarthy
This is a work of fiction.
L C McCarthy 