The recession Biggins

To celebrate his (emotional) release from his iron lung my agent, Bernie Shimshelwitz, decided to take me for lunch at the Ivy. He’d arranged for us to meet his old school friend and one time whist partner Chris Biggins for a bite to eat and a few Pina Coladas. As soon as I turned up I could see that Bernie was on edge and it turned out that all this talk of recession was playing high havoc with his nerves. Apparently he’d called his broker that morning to find out what shape his portfolio was in and was shocked to learn that his portfolio was currently crammed under the leg of the brokers’ wonky desk and had been there ever since Bernie had insisted that he buy as many shares in Ratner’s as possible. This news had sent Shimshelwitz into a mental panic and he had spent the rest of the morning trying to cash in his assets, namely a shed load of 70’s and 80’s memorabilia, ‘Murder She Wrote’ box sets and a baby grand piano that once belonged to Bobby Crush. Bernie’s financial freak out had been intensified by his son’s misuse of the family phone. Apparently when Bernie confronted Conrad with a phone bill for over £2,000 the boy claimed that his constant use of the phone was essential due to the fact that he was ‘The Banker’ off ‘Deal or No Deal’ a claim that Bernie could neither prove or disprove (I didn’t have the heart to tell him that most people in the industry know that ‘The Banker’ is Mr Blobby.) It was only when Biggins rolled up that Bernie began to calm down and it was cocktails allround. Lunch was delicious, I had the Scampi, Bernie tucked into a trout and Biggins had the Kangaroo cock and Koala ball sack medley. He told us that ever since he was crowned King of the Jungle the only way he could maintain his profile was to dine on the goolies of various marsupials. I found the whole tale quite Faustian (apart from the bit about the cock and balls.) It was a great lunch and by the end of it Bernie had cheered up no end, mainly because Biggins had bought a signed Showaddywaddy album and a Metal Mickey annual off him and told him that he would “think” about Bobby Crush’s piano. Tough times ahead; I must check my hedge fund.