by Rik Mayall
You know how like everybody knows that I’m a great lover and know lots about shagging and all that kind of stuff, right? Anyhow, so the thing is, I thought I could write to the newspapers and tell them about the advertising campaign I’m going to do for you. That’ll get them going right from the off. If we treat the media like a top bird and get it all horned up about me and your condoms then you’ll sell loads of them and maybe you can consider increasing my fee from the usual £63 per day (and don’t forget that nothing is signed at the moment – everything’s still open to negosheashon – so don’t foul your seat just yet or whatever the current euphemism is for shitting your pants). Bish bosh, I slip you and you slip me, my agent gets his usual ninety per cent, the press are on board, and everyone’s on a beach snorting coke (apart from me because I don’t do that) and shagging people they shouldn’t be. It’s a win win win win win win win situation. In fact, I haven’t got enough ink to say win enough, everyone’s winning so much. Am I the guy with the top hairy bollocks or what (if you know what I mean). (That’s a poetry thing.)
Firstly, (I like to do things in order because that’s the kind of guy I am) I think we should think about print ads. These are the kind of ones they have on posters and in newspapers and magazines and stuff like that. You know, here’s something – wherever I go in Media Land people are always looking at me and talking about me and saying, “Who the fucking hell is that guy – he must know what he’s talking about.” So it’s worth listening to me Dickie and maybe even taking notes. You should probably photocopy this as well and distribute it throughout the Jureck marketing department. It’ll also be good practice for when we really get into bed and start rubbing up against each other. That’s not a pervy thing – that’s a top media advertising buzz expression – you know, like the ones they use on the television about advertising agencies and stuff.
So, weld your eyeballs open, in we go, hold on tight, fingers on the trigger, straight into the big one. The image for the advertisement, Dickie, the image. You’ve got to get it by the throat. The image should be very simple – “clean” as us media gurus call it. Just think, Dickie, picture the scene. You’re driving along the M4 coming into town in your big flash car. Obviously, it doesn’t have to be the M4 – not if you don’t live anywhere near it or are coming from somewhere else but go with it Dickie, just for a moment – you’re in safe hands. So, you’re going along the M4, maybe Mrs Henderson is in the passenger seat stroking your thigh (it’s up to you) and you look up from the road to see a fuck off huge billboard on the side of a building. On it is Rik Mayall (i.e. me), smiling and looking really great. Next to me is an internationally respected glamour model and she’s glazed in sweat with her hair all over the place like I’ve just given her an extremely major having it off. And that’s where the fist of advertising hits the general public right in the face and breaks all their noses in such a really cool metaphorical sense. Hey! We’re really moving aren’t we? (Not house.)
Being such a top acter and writer, I can create a character that you can use in all your campaigns. I’ve given this a lot of thought so run with it. I reckon we should call him Chick Nailer, because it sounds a little bit like Rik Mayall and it shows that I can do a lot of birds. It’s clever isn’t it? Chick Nailer, Rik Mayall, it rhymes and everything and if we play this right, there could be all sorts of spin-off opportunities and maybe he could even have his own line of condoms named after him. So, perhaps you could have a Maximum Warrior Chick Nailer Special Edition for rock hard studs. Anyway, I digress. (I can do all sorts of stuff – just ask Heimi for a price list.)
So there you are on the M4 or somewhere else that’s quite hard and beneath the picture of me with the glamour model who looks as though I’ve just given her a right good, er, whatevering, you can run the strap line. Don’t be afraid Dickie, I’m not talking bondage here. That’s just another media buzz phrase (stick with me and you’ll learn plenty) and it means “some writing” (i.e. words). And the strap line can read:
Maximum Warrior Condoms (or something bigger as I’ve already mentioned – obviously this bit in between the brackets wouldn’t go on the poster. That would be dangerous because by the time you’d read all this, you’d have crashed on that sharp bend on the elevated section – I’ve got an anecdote about that) – anyway, here’s the rest of the slogan. Actually, forget that. Let me start again. You’re driving into town in your big bastard car with Mrs H stroking your scrotes and you look up and see me with a cracking bit of babe mounted on my fully loaded wanger anorak and the slogan reads: Maximum Warrior Condoms for guys with savage cock attitude.
What do you reckon? I can be standing there smiling – not too much of course, we don’t want to be crass – and it will be a very powerful image (another good marketing expression) which will stick in people’s heads as they drive past so that when they next go to the chemists to stock up on johnnies, they’ll think, “I remember seeing Rik Mayall/Chick Nailer on that poster and he’d just shagged a top bird with a Maximum Warrior condom so I’d better get some so I can be like him.” It’s all about identification with top stars like me. That’s how it works, Dickie. Trust me, I’m a professional. (Not like a prostitute or anything. Although if the price was right I’d give it a whirl if the bird was nice. Imagine getting all that jug and twadge action and being paid for it! That’s a job made in heaven. In fact there might be a movie in that with me having to shag lots of people in order to raise money for a children’s hospice or something hard like a war.)
In magazines and newspapers, we can have even bigger adverts with more writing on them. And we can vary the strap lines (you’ve remembered what strap lines means haven’t you Dickie? Because that’s what I was talking about a bit earlier, right, when I was doing some of my great explaining to you and I could explain it again but if you look a few paragraphs back you’ll see what it says. Okay? Sorted? Or not? Or what? Look, we don’t have to sort it out now Dickie, we can do it at another time in one of our other great memos to you. Anyhow, on with the subject matter.) So, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, so you can vary the strap lines if you want (meaning you can say different things) so that on some of them it might read: Chick Nailer says, “Put a Maximum Warrior helmet on your helmet” and on others it might read: “I smell twadge, there’s work to be done” or even something like, “Hey Geoff! Get it on, get it in.” (Just think how many people there are called Geoff – that’s a few lorry loads sold already. I’m unbelievable when I get at it. Okay, let’s continue.)
Now, at this point, and I know you’re probably all horned up at the prospect of this, but we need to put our feet on the brake for a moment. This is where my knowledge of media stuff and marketing will really come into its own because what we need to do is taylor our strap lines for each of the magazines and newspapers. Are you getting this Dickie? I really feel we’re rock solid, locked together, and I don’t mean that in a sexual way. We are just rolling around together and thrusting conceptually. So, for example, in a high quality jizz rag like Razzle*, you might be able to put, Clench your teeth baby, I’m coming in on a wing and a Warrior, but for something more middle-of-the-road and steady-as-she-goes like The Radio Times which is read by the elderly, it might be something tasteful like: Maximum Warrior – a tough well-worn helmet for the old soldier. Or maybe: Old Birds! Get a Grandad in your trench. In the chicks-with-their-clothes-on magazines, you can appeal to today’s modern woman with a powerful in-your-face message like: Sophisticated birds! You haven’t been shagged until your man’s worn you with a Warrior. And in tabloid newspapers, it might be: Cock! Get some in a Warrior. As you can see, these are fully formed ideas with “green light” written all over them and they’re falling straight into your lap here, Dickie.
Now, we need to think about TV and radio spots and I’m not talking acne and blackheads here – it’s yet another one of my happening expressions. So don’t get strung out about it. Or is it strung up? Or hung up? Hanging up? Out? Shake it all about? Whatever. But l
isten, this is big. This is where using a big showbiz star like me with lots of great ideas will really come into its own. Now first of all we must think lengths and I’m not making a funny joke there about cock size although I could if I wanted to but I’d probably have to charge you something. Once again, I’m speaking media language here and talking about the length of the commercials. So, with this in mind, Dickie, and in trouser – that was a joke – just a little one but you can have it on me, here are some Maximum Warrior radio commercials I’ve brainstormed and written down on a piece of paper. We are at the cutting edge of radio voice-over work here. Believe me, this strategy is going to reach out to the British people and yell “happening!” in their faces until their eye sockets bleed cash.
Maximum Warrior Radio Commercials
Written by The Rik Mayall – top Maximum Warrior commercials writer.
Dramatis Personae (i.e. names of acters) (i.e. means, “this means”), (they don’t usually put brackets like this in radio scripts – crazy out of control motherfucker – that’s me), (although that’s not my name, it’s a way of describing myself – which is what I was doing just then.)
Dramatis Personae: (again, but not with the other stuff.)
1. Rik Mayall as Chick Nailer*
2. Various top birds
10 second spot:
Sounds of what it must sound like when you’re having it off (bird sounds only).
CHICK NAILER: In a butch sort of war movie hero type of voice Maximum Warrior Condoms for precision having it off.
20 second spot:
The sound of proper full on dirty love doing. Lots of heavy breathing, squeaks and gasps. Lots of bird going “ooh ooh ooh.”
CHICK NAILER: Hi, I’m Chick Nailer and I say, “Maximum Warrior Condoms – girls like it when you’ve got one on your penis*.”
30 second spot:
CHICK NAILER: Hi.
A BIRD: Just shag me now.
A thundering clusterbomb of shagging (both bottoms, front and back – it’s okay, this is radio), screaming, slapping, shouting and head cracking against bedstead (but bird not minding) throughout.
CHICK NAILER: I’m Chick Nailer.
A BIRD: God you’re fabulous.
CHICK NAILER: I know, well spotted and that’s why I say, “Maximum Warrior Condoms. Pause For serious battle-formation cock attack.”
A BIRD: Good grief, it’s like a French loaf!
CHICK NAILER: Yes it is, or should I say – [Insert something French and amusing here]
Do you see how this works now, Dickie? This isn’t just some top showbiz bloke giving you the low down here. I’m a media scientist – I know what I’m doing and we’re talking synergy here. Synergy. Look it up if you don’t know what it means. It can’t be hard to find.
With TV and cinema commercials, this is where your advertising campaign will really come alive. Not only are you getting great vocals with me and a gargantuan screen presence but you’re getting high quality acting as well. Just think, if I get my break, or rather when I get another great break to make another great film, people will think, “Fucking hell, there’s The Rik Mayall and he has suggested the concept of going out and buying Maximum Warrior condoms. I’m doing it. Count me in and I mean every birds’ fanny in the pub.” It’s a circular concept of capitalism – they’ll buy your condoms and they’ll go and see the film with me in it. Everyone’s “juiced” as my loads of American friends who work in Hollywood always say when we’re chatting like good mates on the phone which we do all the time.
Anyway, here is the script for the TV and cinema commercial overleaf*.
MAXIMUM WARRIOR (Insurgency Range)
“A-poke-in-the-lips Now” Campaign
Television and cinema commercial (length TBC)
Devised, workshopped, written by and
starring
The Rik Mayall as Chick Nailer
Directed by Francis Ford Coppola*
FADE IN:
EXT. RIVER WINDING THROUGH THE JUNGLE LIKE A SNAKE† – DAY
The boat goes upriver moodily with smoke everywhere and Japs on the riverbank holding spears and looking hard.
CHICK NAILER (27) leans against the bulkhead (check terminology). He is dressed in military green and beige slacks with cool boots and those bullet belt things stretched across his toned pectorals and oiled six-pack. He hasloads of make up on his face – I mean camouflage. He eyes the Japs with his inexscrutable tortured eyes which you can’t actually see because he’s wearing Ray Ban Aviator shades (nothing wrong with a bit of extra product placement here Dickie, all the other big Hollywood stars are at it – I just run with the pack.) Jimmy Hendrix plays his guitar throughout (I know he’s dead but we can use one of his recordings, he won’t mind).
The boat docks at a large stone headquarters in the jungle with loads and loads of well-thought-of oriental glamour models hanging around in G-strings and lashings of that special oil stuff that makes it look like you’re a bit sweaty.
Chick steps from the boat and makes his way majestically through the crowds of birds who watch him, hungry with desire.
INT. ORSON BRANDO’S JUNGLE HEADQUARTERS – ELEVENSES
ORSON BRANDO, a middle-aged bald man sits next to an absolute top notch hit-the-jackpot type of oriental bird. He looks sad. His girlfriend strokes his arm.
Suddenly, the door is kicked open and in strides Chick with the grace of a startled alley cat. (That’s a cool thing not shit writing). He eyes the bald man ferociously.
CHICK: Eddie Catflap what the fucking hell are you doing here?
ORSON: The horror…the horror…
CHICK: Never mind the horror Orson, you’re surrounded by fabulous jugged up birds who are all extremely thumbs-up for a bit of naughty. You should be in heaven.
ORSON: The horror…the horror…
CHICK: All right, easy does it. How can I help?
TOP JAP BIRD: He hasn’t got any johnnies.
CHICK: Fuck my old boots, that’s terrible. Six months up the Yangtse with all these birds and no spermicidally-lubricated rubber sheaths made from the highest quality products. Absolute bloody horror there Orson, you’re not wrong, but fear not because I’ve got just what you need.
Chick reaches moodily into one of those big pockets they have on the side of battle trousers where they keep bullets and grenades and stuff like that and he pulls out a bumper pack of Maximum Warrior condoms and passes them to Orson.
CHICK: Here you are, buddy, whap one of these Maximum Warrior condoms for heavy-duty jungle war film nob and twadge protection on your wanger. Should keep you going for a couple of days.
ORSON: Not the horror…not the horror…
TOP JAP BIRD: What he means is, do you fancy a threesome with me and him by way of saying thanks? You can toss a coin for who goes front or back bottom.
CHICK: Thanks but I’ve got work to do.
Chick goes to the door and sees a scene that looks like a ladies’ sixth form college on laundry day (inJapan obviously). What a girlfriend competition for Chick to judge!
CHICK: I’m just going outside, I may be some time.
TOP JAP BIRD: What a guy.
Chick winks to camera and strides off looking magnificent and ready to get down to some private gentleman’s business.
FADE OUT.
It’s just a first draft although actually it’s fine and maybe just needs a tweak here and there to round off the sharp edges of my hard-hitting proase. We’re talking homage here not pastiche – whatever that means.
Obviously, this is just the short version of the commercial but it could be that if you wanted a longer version for the cinema or Channel Four or Five where it’s only about a tenner a spot (because no one’s watching) then you could have the commercial continue for a full ninety minutes of a feature film. Big adverts for big guys for big products for big audiences for big profits for sounds of people saying, “smashing idea, Rik Mayall.” (That’s the kind of sound I like to hear, Dickie, as I’m sure you do. E
xcept of course they’ll change the name to your name when they say it.)
Now Dickie, in addition to my advertising and marketing conceptual nuggets, I’ve got a radical idea here which could land us with a No Bell prize or a marketing award of some sort at least which could also – if we play it right and be proper sensitive about it – unite the men and women of the world. Are you sitting down for this? Because I think you should be. And if you are sitting down then might I suggest that you loosen your tie and clear your desk of sharp objects that you might fall forward on to and have your eye out – or your other eye for that matter too because this is big trousers time. Are you ready, my friend? Because I don’t do big memos. This is really hot stuff – so deep breaths and read it slowly. In fact, might I suggest that you read it out loud as well so you get the full impact. So, here we go – hold on tight – because this baby’s coming at you and it’s going to run and run. Well maybe not run and run because babies don’t do they? But maybe it could crawl and crawl – you get my meaning anyway. You see what I’m doing here, Dickie? I’m building you up into a lather of pre-brilliant-concept expectation. Are you ready? Call me. Oh no you can’t, that’s stupid. Ignore that. Okay, here goes. I’m just going to come out with it now and give it to you straight. Here it is. New paragraph for maximum impact. And here it is:
