March 31 2012
So, darlings, it has been a while hasn’t it? To be honest, there is a limit to how much pretending to be a fairy you can take before you have to remember that you are one, even if rather oversized. Obscurity is quite a comforting place, really, and the rent required is minimal, so the panto appearances and summer seasons have been enough to keep things floating along, including my brother who decided that being a gay man was nowhere near as fun as being a gay frog and begged me to turn him back again. He is now living happily in a pond in my little garden with two newts and a horny toad. I am not sure if that is a type of toad or a description of his current state, but both seem to work.
Obscurity didn’t last, much to my surprise. It seems that in this electronic age someone noticed the similarity between me and a certain set of ancient photographs which are now very popular, though of course everyone knows they are fake. What? Don’t they realise how drunk we had to get to do those photos? Faked, my arse! Anyway, Best Buddy 2, otherwise known as my manager, told me to laugh it off and just go with the flow of the breakfast television presenter and smile in all the right places. But this is me we are talking about, the little fairy that caused the trouble in the first place, and by the end of the programme not only had I nearly shown my wings off but given the poor man the kiss of his life to prove just what being a right little fairy is really all about.
What can I say? Best Buddy 2 was furious, my parents were furious, and even the school remembered who I was and phoned to say they were furious too! But you know, darlings, the very fact that you are sitting here with that camera pointed at me says that this old fairy got it right. Someone dug out my old singles, the record company re-released Fairy Dust, and it got banned again, and I ended up hosting a talent show and telling everyone what a terrible childhood I had had. Complete baloney, but who cares.
And now, here I am, and in front of me are all those little hopefuls, with their brand new wings, their little pretend wands, their lunch boxes, fawning mothers, and their eager little smiles, all desperate to become the next little thing in fairy land. And who am I to disappoint them? Well, who do think, buster!
“Next!”
