The days on The Last Word are long and tiring. I got in at 10am this morning just in time to catch the tail end of the first meeting in which everyone decides what's going in the show. I stood next to Phil Clarke, the Head of Comedy at Objective who make the show as the producer went over the stories. The producer Robert (who funnily enough was picture researcher on "Fist of Fun") would ask who was interested in which subject and who had ideas they might want to try out. He got to the story about Xena a possible new 10th planet in the solar system, but no-one seemed to have any ideas. "Anyone want to do that at all? Or is no-one interested?"
There was a long silence. It clearly hadn't fired up anyone's imagination. "Richard is really interested in that story," shouted Phil impishly (it is good to see that rising to such an important position hasn't changed this silly man who I first met on the stand up circuit in the early 90s and who then worked in LE radio at the same time as me). "Yes, that's right. I am really interested in that," I confirmed sarcastically, joining in with the joke.
"Great," said Robert, "Then you can do a VT on that then."
"Oh right. I am not really interested," I said, "We were just joking around."
But Robert had already moved on and I was committed to coming up with something on this subject. That is how TV works.
I had a vague idea about trying to explain the size of the Universe by the use of fruit and within four hours I was down on the South Bank of the Thames holding a water melon that represented the Sun, about to run around about a mile to discuss other fruits that would represent other planets. This was good as being stuck in an office for most of the last three days I haven't been able to keep my exercising up. And the office is full of plates full of pastries and bowls of crisps and young women who keep coming in asking if they can go out and bring in even more food.
A group of school children walked by as we did the first set up. "Why has that man got a melon?" many of them seemed to be asking. "This is how I make my living," I told them. It made me ponder once again how unusual my job is. It was a fun piece to do, though quite exhausting (not as exhausting as I made it look to any of you who saw it - running a mile or so is not a problem for me, though I did go a lot faster than I usually would have done and we had to do bits several times). Here's the full script, which didn't get cut up as badly as yesterday, though some gems were still lost including me taking a bite out of a dirty Saturn that had been lying on the London floor. Bear in mind that most of the joke is about me being increasingly breathless and looking like I am about to die:
The Solar system is really big. ItÂ’s bigger than anything you can imagine. Go on try and imagine something really big. An elephant? God no itÂ’s miles bigger than that, you idiot. YouÂ’re not even trying. (You could actually fit two times the number of elephants in the world into the solar system and still have room left over for a walrus. ItÂ’s literally that big.)
ItÂ’s so big that the only way we can hope to comprehend its size is by the use of fruit
Imagine that this watermelon is the Sun. DonÂ’t worry, the Sun is not actually made out of watermelon and some scientists believe it is actually too hot for watermelon trees to flourish there. And when you think how hot it is in countries where watermelons grow I think this gives you some idea of just how hot the Sun is. It is very hot.
The first planet Mercury is some 36million miles from sun, which in fruit terms translates to over here. Mercury is this cherry. It is smaller than the Sun, which was the size of a watermelon – do you remember? I’m not going back to show you. 90% of the solar system’s thermometers are made on Mercury.
LONG RUN
Another 31 million miles further from the watermelon is this apple which represents Venus, which was discovered and named in 1986 by the pop band Bananarama who were the only astronomers to write a chart topping smash about their discovery.
LONG RUN
The earth which you are currently almost certainly on is some 93 million miles from the Sun and is represented by this Satsuma with a cock drawn on it and it is at about this point in the Universe that I wish I had used a slightly smaller scale. Maybe the Sun should have been the size of a pea.
LONG RUN
Mars is 142 million miles from the sun and would have been represented by a tomato, but now I get here I see that Mars has been stamped on by a child. You little shit! I really wish I had thought this through.
Jupiter is more than 400 million miles further awayÂ… oh fuck.
LONG RUN
Jupiter is a coconut. It has a hard outer shell, but its centre is filled with delicious milk. The race is on to reach this fantastical world as whoever could tap this enormous supply of creamy drink would earn literally hundreds of pounds.
LONG RUN
Saturn is 888 million miles away and is a kiwi fruit with a pineapple ring around it. Which you know is quite a funny conceit, but I am not sure that it was worth running this far to make it.
How far is the next one. A billion more miles. ThatÂ’s in fucking Swindon. You know what. IÂ’m not running all that way to find out that uranus has been eaten by a tramp. ThatÂ’s it. Saturn is the last planet in the solar system.
So thatÂ’s the solar system. I certainly now have some concept of its phenomenal size. Running across it has made me realize how unfit I am and I have decided that I should eat fewer pies and more fruit. Starting with Saturn, the most delicious planet of all.
