“I beg your pardon…”
Your thighs, they look a bit plumpish.
“Are all people from Liverpool as cheeky as you?”
Cheekier, I’m the quiet one. Is it because you’ve been doing less dancing?
“Is what because…?”
Your chubby thighs.
“Oh… yes. I don’t know whether you paid so much attention to my thighs the first time I came to England but they were far more muscular then. Although I’ve never actually stopped dancing, the type of dancing I’ve done has gotten progressively more routine to the point where, for example, when I’m singing a ballad I don’t move hardly at all. So I guess some of that muscle has kinda transformed into fat. I guess I’ll have to start exercising more regularly and get them back in shape.
Yes, they’ve definitely seen better days. And one of the things I noticed about the Penthouse/Playboy photos was how muscular and athletic your legs looked.
‘Why thank you Nick, that is just about the neatest way I’ve heard anybody bring up the subject of those photographs… and before you ask, no, I’m not ashamed of them.”
You’ve no reason to be. But don’t you look at them and wish you still had those lovely thighs?
“Ha ha ha… of course I do. Don’t you look at photos of yourself when you had hair and wish you’d still got iy?”
OK. 15 all. Tell me something about your home life. Do you have any pets for example?
“Well, yes, but I’m a bit embarrassed to talk about it.”
“Because it’s the kind of pet journalists would make a big deal of my having.’
You don’t mean you’ve got a snake?
‘How the hell did you find that out?”
I just guessed. What’s so dodgy about having a snake anyway?
‘Well, psychologists and all those guys reckon it’s kinda sexual to have a snake as a pet – particularly if you’re a woman. It’s supposed to mean you secretly wished your boyfriend’s or husband’s was… y’know… a bit bigger. All that phalic symbol sh*t. If a guy has a snake as a pet, though, it’s suppose to mean something whole lot worse.”
“Come on, you know what it means – at least you should do, lookin’ at you.”