Hello my name is Edward Tuddleton. I work as a notice board inspector. I travel up and down the country inspecting notice boards in offices. I make sure they are being used correctly with the correct pins being used on the correct cork to hold in the notices that nobody reads and make sure they are placed in the most inconvenient places imaginable. It is quite possibly the most boring job on the planet. That is why I developed my special hobby. I invite celebrities round to my house for tea. It enables me to liven up my life and the celebrities to live a normal lifestyle for an hour or so.
The other day I invited Simon Cowell round for tea. Now the thing about Simon Cowell is that he has the most dreadful singing voice. It really is the worst voice you are ever likely to hear in your entire life. This is why he is so good at picking out people who can make good records. After all if you sound anything like him he will know that you will not make it in the cut and thrust world of the pop industry.
Anyway Mr Cowell arrived at my house at 6pm on the dot and we settled down for tea which, if you’re interested, was meat pie, chips and peas. Tea was going down very well and we were having a rather interesting conversation. I wouldn’t say we discussed anything Earth shattering after all I had had a rather dull day and Simon Cowell was inbetween filming Britain’s Got Talent and American Idol at the time so had no actual celebrity gossip for me either. Not that I’m really into celebrity gossip, mind numbing stuff. We finished tea and I collected our plates and took them into the kitchen. It is then I heard it. It was quiet at first but I was not mistaken. There was a humming sound coming from my dining table. I prayed to God I was wrong but then it started. Cowell started singing. Oh my, I had never heard anything like it. It was like hearing a cat scraping against a blackboard inside a wheelie bin. I grabbed a tea towel and raced into my dining room. I wrapped the towel around Cowell’s face to try and muffle the sound all the while I was begging him to stop whatever it was he was trying to sing.
I manhandled him out of my house and bundled him into his chauffeur driven limousine and begged the driver to take him as far away from my house as possible which he duly obliged.
There is a lesson to be learned here I think and that is whenever I see those programmes on the television where people eat their tea or dinners in total silence before playing a game of charades it is not because they are posh or that there is nothing on the television. It is because they know that one of them cannot sing and want to avoid the embarrassment of an early finish to the evening.
