Jim Beam me up Scottie

I went through a copy of The Stage recently and booked ‘Gandalph the Wizard’ for my nephew Tristram’s 8th birthday party, and look who rolled up! Since they stopped writing ‘Star Trek’ Patrick Stewart’s been on his uppers evidently. He was drunk as a Lord and the stench of piss followed him all round the marquee. Fortunaltely Tristram and his chums thought it was some mystical vapour trail and they followed him expectantly hoping for some act of magic. Well, magic he was not my friends, although three cans of Newky Brown did mysteriously disappear from my brother-in-law’s fridge. Honestly, I gave him the benefit of the doubt when all he could produce from his top hat was a week old Ginsters pastie, but when he then went rummaging around in his overcoat for stardust and popped his todge out I had to escort him off the premises. “I’ll be speaking to your agent Pat” says I; “Make it sho” slurs he.