He is singing his greatest hit like he has never sung it before – as they would say on X Factor, he totally nails it - but no-one even takes an iota of notice.
The elderly woman is still zombified, in a world of her own and the barmaid is still giving good head, this time quite literally to the dead man.
Felix simply cannot take anymore and storms or rather stumbles out of the pub in a raged drunken stupor.
He wanders down the street in a desperate state and passes several strangers, none of whom recognise him or ask for his autograph, mores the pity.
Then he comes to what looks like an old waxwork museum - a bit like a poor man’s Master Tussauds – he assumes where unwanted former celebrity dummies go to die, other than on reality TV.
Paying the £5 entry fee he goes in and encounters the likes of Shakin’ Stevens, Arnold from Diff’rent Strokes and Roland Rat… then he nearly does a double take when he sees our very own sex pot Ms Holly Wood from Tequila Sun!
He drunkenly mumbles, thinking it’s to himself but blurting out loud: “Well that’s just shocking. Where am I?”
He simply can’t take the rejection.
“They’ve probably melted me down into pillar candles. I’m a has been and they probably should have fed me to the lions,” he says feeling sorry for himself.
Has his life really come to this?
He gazes at the Holly waxwork dummy. The resemblance is simply astonishing.
And he rambles on: “Oh but my dear, lovely Holly. The one girl who gets more beautiful with every breath she takes...”
Felix is now on the ground seemingly worshipping at her very feet.
An unimpressed couple bypass him in his drunken stupor and head straight to Des and Daphne from Neighbours.
“The one girl I never truly got over,” Felix continues, fawning all over her. “The only one I ever really loved.”
He stands up again and makes a special announcement.
“I wrote a song about you,” he says and then starts to serenade Holly’s waxwork with the new song he has just written about her:
“When I first saw you, my heart skipped a beat,
I grew seven inches…”
He stops, pauses for thought, looks down and changes the lyric to five and a half.
“…I dropped my shredded wheat.
Her hair was golden (it is, dyed.)
Her eyes emerald green (they are, probably contact lens.)
To avoid her beauty you would need a vaccine…”
His voice trails off as he exits the museum in a bitter fashion, pushing over a waxwork dummy that vaguely resembles Margaret Thatcher in the process.
At that very moment a man in an old fashioned suit enters from the rear, of the building that is. He passes Felix and walks through the waxwork museum backwards, well not quite literally.
It is of course the owner Wesley Tussauds. His real name was Wesley Bates but when he set the business up, it didn’t have quite the same ring.
He shakes his head when he finds Maggie on the floor, picks her up and unintentionally positions her in a somewhat heated embrace with Leroy from the Kids from Fame.
Then he passes a few other legends in the 80s section, until he comes across Holly Wood, who looks like she actually has a tear in her eye.
And then she blinks.
“Holly it’s time for your break,” says Wesley, tapping her on the shoulder.
It seems being a supermarket checkout operator isn’t Holly’s only talent these days. She’s also working part time as her very own museum waxwork dummy!
Oh and she just heard everything a drunken, emotional Felix had to say!
READ THE FULL VERSION OF
‘POP TARTS’, AVAILABLE NOW.
ALSO AVAILABLE
It was the dawning of the Golden Age of Pop Music: The 1980s. Some would say it was the greatest decade in music history. It is certainly the most favoured (and played) for those that lived through it, and those that came to appreciate it afterwards. It defined who we are and became the soundtrack to our lives. Duran Duran, Culture Club, Spandau Ballet, Wham!, The Human League, Kajagoogoo, Bananarama, A-ha. They all had hit after hit, after hit. Some 30 plus years later and some songs are remembered (and revered) more than others. Each band has at least one synonymous classic that radio still plays, stuck on repeat with the tone arm up and nothing else on the stacker. But what about the next best record? Or the one after that? This book celebrates the other songs, the ones not so famous, but still every bit as good. You may remember them from the first time around… or you may just discover an all new soundtrack to the 80s that’ll make you want to live through it, all over again.
OTHER BOOKS BY BRIAN LOVESTAR:
DREAM MYSELF ALIVE
POP TARTS
WAKING UP ASLEEP
UNSUNG POP SONGS OF THE 80s
www.brianlovestar.co.uk
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