Jeremy Beadle - My Fake Diary
Wednesday, 2 July 2003
I was feeling really rough today, and spent the whole day in bed. I think I caught something at the charity event yesterday.
I still feel quite ill now but it was really bad earlier, not that I let that stop me from getting up to some old tricks!
I've been plotting this jape since last November, after seeing a big traffic jam on the news caused by an overturned lorry. I had it all written down on my laptop, I even made a computer simulation of the whole thing with the help of my good pal Noel Edmonds. He's really good with computers, he's good with everything, especially women. He's amazing.
Anyway, I'd picked out strategic places in the town where I would ask to be picked up by taxis, with the hope of causing total gridlock in the local streets. So I rang three local taxi firms, asking for the taxis to pick up from the twelve points, all at strategic times so they would all arrive at their destination at roughly the same time.
About fifteen minutes later, I could hear the muffled beeping of car horns from the road, and I could see a tailback of about seven cars, but the road turns a sharp corner so I couldn't see just how long the queue was.
Wow, "A traffic jam!", I hear you cry, "That's not very ingenious Beadle." Well, don't be too quick to scoff readers, that's just part 1 of my master plan.
I next rang my friend Chris Eubank to ask him a favour. He was delighted to be of service, and ended the call in his usual whitty manner saying, "I'm not a prankster, I'm a boxer!" We're quite good friends Chris and I, and I've only known him for about a year-and-a-half.
Not a lot of people know this, but Chris likes to drive monster trucks in his spare time. Heh-heh, I don't think I need to say what happened next, but it was absolutely hilarious. Oh, it was like "Beadle's About", but on every TV channel, which were all showing News-Flashes of a "mad-man" who was driving a monster truck over cars in the streets of a small London borough.
Chris rang me from the police station. But there was nothing I could do for him. I couldn't risk being involved in something like this, I'd probably go to jail for masterminding it! The police did ask some questions, but luckily I had the perfect alibi of being cooped up in bed all day.
Last thing I heard, they'd released Chris on bail. It's his fist offence for something like this, he'll probably just get a fine or something. He'll be okay.
It was the perfect prank. It even got international television attention. This is the kind of thing a man can go down in history for. But knowing that it was me, and that no-one else knows who it was, is an even better feeling.
I still feel giddy thinking about it now!
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