Now that we’re both media giants … , said Wrinkly Paddy.
Yeah? I grunted, looking up from the gigantic spliff I was trying to assemble.
Well, he said, they’ll want to know where it all began.
What? Where? What?
Our media domination.
Well, he said. You know the way myself and Wrinkly Joe are massively successful as a speed-death-country band?
I thought you were shite.
And, he continued, oblivious to my opinions, the way you’ve become the Greatest Living Irish Blogger.
Oh God, no, I ejaculated, you can’t say that. There’s only one Greatest Living Irish Blogger. Moderate your language, man, before somebody overhears you.
Wrinkly Paddy looked suitably chastised. Sorry Bock.
We’ll let it pass this time, I barked, but don’t ever let me hear you taking the piss out of the Greatest Living Irish Blogger again. Is that clear?
Of course, grovelled Wrinkly Paddy.
So, I said. What was it you had in mind?
Paddy brightened. Well, you remember that science fiction novel we wrote?
And those fairytales?
And all those Bloomsday performances involving loads of drink.
Well, I reckon Hollywood will want to film our life stories, now that we’re both hugely successful.
So, Paddy went on, ignoring me, who do you think they should hire to play the part of you?
I was stunned. What Hollywood actor should play me in my biopic?
What a hard question. Most of the suitable ones are too old.
I don’t know, Paddy. This is a tough question. Let me think. Hmmm. Kevin Costner, perhaps, though he’s not that, you know, chiselled. Brad Pitt might do. I don’t know. Colin Farrell seems to be the only alternative. Or maybe Denzel Washington.
Wrinkly Paddy regarded me in silence.
All right, then. Pierce Brosnan.
Paddy continued to stare.
What? I screamed.
Paddy seemed slightly frightened.
Yeah, he shrugged. That sounds fine.