I once did a very ditsy thing
Live on national TV
Lived up to my blonde highlights
For all the viewers to see
Talking Telephone Numbers
Was in question the game
And in massively screwing up
I almost made my name
Wracked with intense stage fright
At busting my cherry on telly
I royally f****d up
And my pants got really smelly
I made an expensive mistake
When answering the phones
On what was a roll over week
Crowning the first ‘winner’ of this new show
Twenty Thousand Smackers
Given to the wrong bloke
All that lovely dosh
Veritably up in smoke!
Now the notorious
Number 85
Was living in peril
Fearing being skinned alive
No choice but to fess up
To Mr Celador, Paul Smith
The producer and creator
An important man, no s**t!
I was quaking in my platforms
When I gingerly pulled him aside
Fearing that I’d be given
For sure my P45
But instead he stifled a giggle
Told my 18 year old self he knew
Told me not to be afraid
And that Schofield would forgive me too!
Told me to take it to my grave
And do my very best
To never ever tell a soul
But some b*****d leaked it to the press!
I had to go into hiding
I did a very good job
They never tracked me down
Though they tried and failed, thank God
And the saga made it into Bizarre
The column in The Sun
As written by Andy Coulson
Who ribbed me like a good ‘un
Deemed me ‘The Bungling Telephonist’
Brainless between the ears
Notwithstanding the fact
The beneficiary was now rich but ‘in tears’
Said he couldn’t enjoy
His winnings knowing it was a blunder
So he’s pictured cracking open the champers
With a face semi-smug yet like thunder!
And what of I?
Number 85?
How did things pan out for me?
Well I kept my trap shut
(Until now at least)
But Schoey never did forgive me 😦
Rachel Rhodes 