John Robertson Fringe Blog: How To Seduce A Monarch
By John Robertson | Published on Monday 20 August 2012
John Robertson writes us a Fringe Blog.
I’m not going to lie to you… I hate most things. Oh, dear reader, I don’t hate you. Stay here. Sit with Mr Robertson. Stand if you have to. Roll these words up and snort through them if you’re in the Assembly club bathrooms.
I’m afraid I lied to you. I really like most things. Love, even. Love excessively. Love in a humptacular way. I am one with everything and all is harmonious and wonderful… pardon me, I just threw up. (It’s now harmonious and wonderful and one with the floor.)
Right, what’s this about? Oh, the Queen. Yes. The Queen of England, whom the X-Men call Jubilee. I didn’t know it was the Diamond Jubilee when I decided what my show would be about, the last Queen’s birthday celebration I remember involved Phil Collins trying to bang his hip back into place with a tambourine and the cast of “We Will Rock You” reminding everyone just how dead Freddie Mercury is.
You see, I live in a small Australian town at the bottom of the world – and it’s the little nook that I scurry back into with my accumulated riches after touring, like a mouse that’s taken all the BBC’s cheese. (I am unclear how much cheese the BBC has, from what I can tell, you people give them cheese and they release it on TV. Is that about right?)
And in this little town the entire world can pass you by, which is to say, a person can sit out the horrible dance crazes of history until something they like comes along, then refreshed and wealthy, they may stride out and cut a rug.
Of course, this little town did originally belong for 40,000 years to some native inhabitants, but because they couldn’t afford Phil Collins, we’ll discuss this later. Did I say later? I meant immediately. Did I say immediately? I meant during my show. Christ, ThreeWeeks doesn’t have time for this – let me tell you some light, funny things, then we’ll get to the bloodshed.
If you want to seduce a monarch, the first thing you’ll need is a letter from any Pope granting you permission to ask the Archbishop of Canterbury. If he’s out, the Archbishop of Cadbury is a delicious and filling alternative. After consuming either archbishop, aim your flare gun 30 degrees to the left of the moon and fire your hairstylist, you look terrible. If anybody asks, she jumped.
At this point, you may wish to cross yourself. Be aware that displays of Christianity attract atheists, so leave yourself plenty of time in which to discuss nothing. Take your signed photo of Jesus to David Bowie, who will sign it, thinking it’s of him. Now take David Bowie to lunch and crank open his jaws using the inflatable bladder labeled, “Iggy Pop- Up Tent”. Climb into the Thin White Duke and go south until you encounter the Fat Red Baron. Climb into the arterial aeroplane and do battle until Von Richtofen is dead, but not so dead that he can’t give the password, which is “UNPRINTABLY OBSCENE”.
Head to Buckingham Palace with the ashes of my grandmother and give the guards a taste, saying it’s depressed sherbet. When the guards ask you to state your business, tell them “it’s UNPRINTABLY OBSCENE”, at which point they will ask you to actually say it. If you don’t know what the password is by this point there’s no hope for you and your monarch of choice will remain as unboned as a cheap corset or good fish.
Of course, the easiest way to seduce a powerful person is to remind them of the Henry Kissinger quote, “Power is the ultimate hermaphrodite.” Following Kissinger’s clues, we learn that Power = Current, Current = Currant, Currant = Bun, Bun = Rabbit, Rabbit = Vermin, Vermin = any Australian comedian who isn’t named John Robertson.
Upon meeting John Robertson, shake him firmly by the hand and ask him why Loudon Wainwright never had any chart success. Once this secret code has been uttered, John will tell you how to seduce a monarch and also address the general problems that come with mass- murder. He will of course only do this at 10.15pm each night at the Assembly Hall and after £5 has been paid to the box office. Don’t ask him during the show, as he will end you, but remember that he loves you.
John Robertson performed ‘The Old Whore’ at Assembly Hall at Fringe 2012.