Sam: What if we do the whole thing on a plane, and when one of the celebs gets a question wrong, we throw them out?
Aslan: With parachutes, you mean?
Sam: No.
Me: Right, OK, I really like your thinking, Sam. But I have a feeling that might be seen as too extreme – too far away from the originalQuiz Monstersformat. Anything in between? Aslan?
Aslan: Oh Lilah, you don’t need my help on this one. You’re great at all this. A natural with the ideas side of things. Don’t be shy – tell us what you’re thinking.
Sam: That’s super unhelpful, dude, she knows what you’re doing.
Me: She’s right, Aslan. Please don’t Rex-pander me. I need your help. You’re meant to be working on this special with me.
Aslan:OK, yeah, sorry. I just don’t have any ideas. It’s a quiz show; we can’t reinvent the wheel.
Sam: Oh, how about some kind of wheel?
Aslan: Yes! Great idea, Sam. Like the wheel of fortune?
Sam: Or, like, we could attach the celebrities to a large wheel and have Rex throw knives at them?
Me: Hmm, again, I think that might be too far away from the original quiz concept. And possibly a little bit un-insurable.
Aslan: You know Rex would love it, though. Especially if that one out of Take That’s coming on – you know their feud goes way back.
Me: Since the thing with Lilo, yes, I know.
Sam: What’s the thing with Lilo?
Aslan: Well, she...
Me: No, Aslan, we don’t have time for the whole story. Google it, Sam. It was in all the papers. There was a high-speed car chase, drug cartels, they nearly killed each other, blah blah. Come on, guys. Anything else?
Sam: Death fight match?
It went on and on like that for an hour, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I pulled a pen out of my bag to make some notes, and only realised it was actually a tampon when I tried to write with it.
Ah, sod bliss. I grab my towel and sweaty mat and head for the showers.
Wedding Number Eight:Daniel and Seiji, South Farm, Norfolk
Theme:Rustic. There were leopard-print rugs across every surface, and a big log fire that immediately went out but continued to smoke the whole afternoon, choking out an asthmatic great uncle.
Menu:Smoked salmon starter, followed by chicken and a meringue dessert. Veggie option: stuffed red pepper with goat’s cheese.
Gift:Silver candlesticks @ £60.
Gossip:On the morning of the wedding, one of the wedding party announced she and her girlfriend had decided to have a civil ceremonylater the same day.They took the best man and half the guests off with them as witnesses.
My bank balance:-£595.01 (plus one or two credit cards, but they don’t count, right?)
13
We’ve been waiting for Lauren for thirty-five slow, tedious minutes and the woman behind the counter – who was already giving us the stink eye just for being alive – now absolutely, definitively hates us. The only reason she hasn’t thrown us out is because Joely pulled a fairly dramaticDON’T YOU KNOW WHO I AMmove on her when she started muttering about other appointments. Joely suggested Resting Bitch Face call the manager if she wanted to discuss the next lengthy blog post she’d be putting up about how ‘up its own arse’ this place is for her millions of followers. And then she sent the woman scurrying off to bring us two more glasses of champagne.
In case you couldn’t guess by the level of unnecessary snobbery behind the counter, we’re in a bridal shop. It’s actually the sixth bridal shop we’ve visited around Greater Manchester over the last few months, in Lauren’s quest for gown perfection. But right now, our bride – who is supposed to be here with us trying on an array of different types of white froth and lace, while we gasp appropriately – is instead stuck in traffic. She keeps sending us messages, ordering us not to leave, but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to cope with the shop assistant’s dirty looks. I feel like Julia Roberts inPretty Womanagain, but it’s not sexy this time and I don’t feel the urge to wear a blonde wig. She quite quickly spotted that I am the weaker of the two and is now focusing her fury in my specific direction. And honestly, I’m not sure I can handle the pressure much longer. I’m going to run out screaming and crying any moment now.
My phone rings – maybe it’s Lauren. Hopefully she’s here!
