Bigger than Hitler - Better than Christ

by Rik Mayall

  *This has nothing to do with cowboy films where they get that metal thing which they heat on the fire and then stick it on a cow’s arse and it makes that ssssssss sound.

  †I won’t say “ooer obviously” because this is serious.

  *It’s me.

  *This is where the British invented concentration camps. But they were decent places in those days. They were used for concentrating in. That’s why we won the war. I’m related to Lord Kitchener.

  *Heavy entertainment is not about being slightly overweight. It’s just that unluckily I have often bought the wrong sized trousers before a photographic shoot. Heavy means serious, which also has nothing to do with trousers. Get over it. I just have an unusual diet. It’s a charity thing.

  *This is the place where the upper-middle-class people sit. As opposed to the upper circle which is where the lower-middle-class people sit. Anything can happen in show business. And often does.

  *This is a theatrical term for making up some words. It has nothing to do with women’s lib [check this].

  *Miles per hour.

  †This means they wrote some words about what had happened and put it in the newspaper.

  The thing is, viewer, I cannot actually tell you why I was done for speeding. I am not allowed to. Let me just say that on that day down in the west I was doing some work for Tony B and the gov*. Military intelligence. Like in that one with the big fuck off submarine under the Polish ice cap. Let’s just say that it was for the good of the country. I am known as The Commando in the corridors of Whitehall. No, The Really Hard Commando, that’s the one. What happened was this: I got a call. It was the telephone. Someone asked me to “Take a dive on the M5”. This is code for “Make sure you get yourself arrested for driving very quickly.” So I did. I deliberately shot myself in the foot. I felt my own collar. Which is tricky. The pigs were down on me, literally. And I respected them for it. Autographs all round. Everyone loved everyone else’s work – especially mine. I explained to them that every so often I have to go under cover. And that’s not a bed thing and I’m not putting this in my book to make me look hard and brave either. It’s just a fact of life. My life. But it’s a secret anyway, so don’t tell anyone. We’re under the foreskin on this one viewer, unless you haven’t got one or you’re a bird in which case we’re between the flaps. Let’s just say that me getting arrested for driving at 127m.p.h. on the motorway and signing loads of autographs and getting a headline in The Mirror (good paper) was the perfect cover when I was asked to deliver a certain package somewhere and any more than that I am definitely not allowed to say. It was a car bomb. I can probably tell you that much but that’s the end of it. No more. In fact, just to be on the safe side you should rip out this page once you have read it and tear it into little pieces, eat them, let them pass through the body and then eat them again. It might taste nasty but it’s good to be safe. In fact, after you’ve read the whole book you should set fire to it and then buy another one. [Are you reading this in the Harper Collins marketing department? Don’t bother coming to thank me for instantly doubling your sales in one fell swoop. Because I won’t be here. I’ll have gone out.]

  *This is my expression for the government which saves time actually writing out the whole word. I invented it. And I’m happy to fight in a pub anyone who says that I didn’t.

  *This is an homage to The Motorhead’s awesome live (in concert) album No Sleep Till Hammersmith. I could have called this chapter the same name cos we always played Hammersmith as well but then it would be the same title and The Lemmy might not like that. If you’re reading this, Lemmy. Maximum respec. Always loved your work.

  †Or maybe call it “On The Road”. This is also a great title and if you think that I nicked it from another book righter you can fuck off because it’s not true. Anyone who thinks that it is can come round to my house and I will fucking show them, right in the face, that I haven’t stolen it. So there you are. So, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, right, On The Road, that’s not stolen from…Oh I’ve done that. Just forget it and move on.

  ‡I mean theatrically of course.

  *This is a big fuck off personnel carrier like they use in the Middle East when they’re killing people.

  †Sorry, I forgot.

  *This is a comedy term that means that you can come back on when you’ve finished doing your great comedy and tell some of your top-quality gags (barn-ripping woofers/AKA (also known as) jokes) again in case anyone missed them the first time.

  *This is a military expression that Simon was using on me because he knew that I would understand it because I’m down with soldiers and stuff.

  *They call me Mr Charity.

  †Love your work, Trevor.

  *This is not an illiterate fuck up. It makes sense. I should know. I typed it. So read it again and don’t be a thick twat.

  †I’m not going to do a vulgar joke about that.

  ‡Or that.

  **And certainly not that.

  §See previous three footnotes.

  *This is a leading media expression which means the early evening segment of programmes which are watched by huge numbers of people right from the aristos to the disgusting reality television hopefuls living in trailer parks near enormous slag heaps.

  *Bloke in London.

  *This is true. You can ask anyone. [Maybe delete this? Whose idea was this page anyway? Make sure you don’t put it in the book.]