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Authors: Michael McIntyre
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of having a wobbly tooth, the landmark occasion of my first tooth falling out was approaching. Your teeth falling out is grim, it’s literally like a bad dream, but the carrot was, of course, the Tooth Fairy. When my tooth finally freed itself from my mouth, I was to leave it under my pillow, whereupon a fairy would, in effect, buy it from me. The going rate in 1982 was a pound. Strangely, I think it still is a pound. The Tooth Fairy has obviously never heard of inflation. In fact if milk tooth prices rose in line with, say, house prices, by 2007 the price would have reached £14 (although now it would have dropped to about £12.50). What I never understood about the Tooth Fairy is, what exactly is she doing with these teeth she’s collecting? She must have millions of children’s milk teeth. Sick. And where does she get the money from? I bet MI5 have a file on her.
Anyway, my tooth finally fell out and I placed it under my pillow. In the morning I was thrilled to find a crisp £1 note under my pillow and something else unexpected. The Tooth Fairy had also left a calling card. It was a card with a photo of a set of glistening perfect white teeth. I immediately recognized this card to be one of the many identical cards from The Kenny Everett Show that were scattered all over our flat. I was confused. Why would the Tooth Fairy have one? Could … my mum … be … the … Tooth Fairy? I ran into my mum’s bedroom. ‘Mum, are you the Tooth Fairy?’ I enquired.
‘Why would you say that, darling?’ she replied convincingly.
‘Because there was one of these cards under my pillow and even though it had an image of teeth, which one would associate with the Tooth Fairy, I know these are cards from Daddy’s show.’
It was at this point my mother cracked under surprisingly little pressure and gave up all her parenting secrets in one of the most shocking and devastating moments of my life. ‘You’ve got me, you worked it out,’ she confessed. ‘I am the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Father Christmas, don’t tell your sister.’ Bang, bang, bang. Three in one go.
I can’t imagine that in the history of parenting a mother has ever delivered such damaging revelations in such quick succession. I may have been on to the Tooth Fairy, but not for a second had I doubted the authenticity of the Easter Bunny and certainly not Father Christmas. I was mute for three whole days. My parents and all parents for that matter are liars. Well, I wasn’t going to be part of their deceit, so I told my sister. Lucy said she already knew and was humouring our parents. Then she said, ‘Planes will strike towers in New York City.’ I didn’t realize at the time she was predicting the horrors of 9/11; I just thought, ‘She’s been watching The Towering Inferno again.’
Kenny’s merchandise may have shattered my childhood innocence, but Kenny the TV comic was going from strength to strength. He was tremendously talented and, as my mother fondly remembers, deeply funny all the time. But harnessing his talent for a half-hour television series still took some doing, and by all accounts it was my father who was mainly responsible. Barry Cryer remembers: ‘Ray was pretty much directing the show.’
Kenny’s co-star, Cleo Rocos, recalls, ‘Ray was the heartbeat of the show. Kenny wouldn’t be Kenny without him. He was the pioneer and driving force.’ Dad had become a major player in the comedy industry, unofficially writing, directing and producing one of the biggest shows on television, but officially he was just a co-writer. It was time to make a career move.
So my dad took a giant showbusiness leap. He made a film. The film was called Star Wars . If only. The film was called Bloodbath at the House of Death . He wrote, directed, produced, edited, appeared in and raised the finance for it, quite a step-up from television co-writer. If it came off, we’d be rich. The film starred Kenny Everett at the height of his powers,
Anyway, my tooth finally fell out and I placed it under my pillow. In the morning I was thrilled to find a crisp £1 note under my pillow and something else unexpected. The Tooth Fairy had also left a calling card. It was a card with a photo of a set of glistening perfect white teeth. I immediately recognized this card to be one of the many identical cards from The Kenny Everett Show that were scattered all over our flat. I was confused. Why would the Tooth Fairy have one? Could … my mum … be … the … Tooth Fairy? I ran into my mum’s bedroom. ‘Mum, are you the Tooth Fairy?’ I enquired.
‘Why would you say that, darling?’ she replied convincingly.
‘Because there was one of these cards under my pillow and even though it had an image of teeth, which one would associate with the Tooth Fairy, I know these are cards from Daddy’s show.’
It was at this point my mother cracked under surprisingly little pressure and gave up all her parenting secrets in one of the most shocking and devastating moments of my life. ‘You’ve got me, you worked it out,’ she confessed. ‘I am the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Father Christmas, don’t tell your sister.’ Bang, bang, bang. Three in one go.
I can’t imagine that in the history of parenting a mother has ever delivered such damaging revelations in such quick succession. I may have been on to the Tooth Fairy, but not for a second had I doubted the authenticity of the Easter Bunny and certainly not Father Christmas. I was mute for three whole days. My parents and all parents for that matter are liars. Well, I wasn’t going to be part of their deceit, so I told my sister. Lucy said she already knew and was humouring our parents. Then she said, ‘Planes will strike towers in New York City.’ I didn’t realize at the time she was predicting the horrors of 9/11; I just thought, ‘She’s been watching The Towering Inferno again.’
Kenny’s merchandise may have shattered my childhood innocence, but Kenny the TV comic was going from strength to strength. He was tremendously talented and, as my mother fondly remembers, deeply funny all the time. But harnessing his talent for a half-hour television series still took some doing, and by all accounts it was my father who was mainly responsible. Barry Cryer remembers: ‘Ray was pretty much directing the show.’
Kenny’s co-star, Cleo Rocos, recalls, ‘Ray was the heartbeat of the show. Kenny wouldn’t be Kenny without him. He was the pioneer and driving force.’ Dad had become a major player in the comedy industry, unofficially writing, directing and producing one of the biggest shows on television, but officially he was just a co-writer. It was time to make a career move.
So my dad took a giant showbusiness leap. He made a film. The film was called Star Wars . If only. The film was called Bloodbath at the House of Death . He wrote, directed, produced, edited, appeared in and raised the finance for it, quite a step-up from television co-writer. If it came off, we’d be rich. The film starred Kenny Everett at the height of his powers,
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