Calling the mystery contacts
The show began testing its plan to telephone people whose cryptic entries remained in listeners’ address books. Megan, who worked at a dental practice near Norwich, had no memory of “John Fireman”. She had never needed the emergency services and now had a boyfriend, making the unexplained man’s presence particularly awkward.
Scott tried the number only to discover it was no longer recognised. If John still had Megan listed as “Megan Teeth”, he was invited to make contact, but the first investigation ended without an answer.
Rachel offered a much stronger entry: “Sexy Josh, I love him, I want to dance with him”. She could not remember whether she had written the description or whether Josh had taken her phone and promoted himself. The number initially appeared to belong to a woman, but Josh was nearby and reluctantly came to the call.
He sounded alarmed as Rachel read out his full title. Both vaguely recognised that they had met in a club, possibly Oceana, and Josh called their meeting magical. Neither could recover much more. Rachel still did not know who he was after the conversation, but the show had at least confirmed that Sexy Josh existed, enjoyed dancing and remained shy about his moment of radio fame.
Watford, promotion and any dare
Watford could be promoted to the Premier League the following day, and Chris desperately wanted Scott to care. A small bet would return only £18, which did not seem enough to transform him into the kind of person who asked strangers for football scores on a Saturday afternoon.
A listener suggested using a dare instead. In the excitement, Chris promised he would do anything if Watford went up. One proposal required him to recreate Psy’s “Gentleman” video exactly. Chris agreed and exchanged what he called an “eyebrows on that” pledge with Scott, leaving the show with a dangerous commitment if the result went his way.
Lord Sugar does not do stunts
Greg James’s interview with Lord Sugar had produced a wonderfully uncomfortable exchange. Greg suggested that, once The Apprentice ended, Lord Sugar could follow Ray Winstone into acting as a gangster. He had even brought a short piece of script.
Lord Sugar rejected the idea immediately. Greg tried to persuade him to read one line, but every attempt received another firm “no”. “I don’t do stunts,” Lord Sugar explained before asking whether they were finished. The show replayed the conversation and admired the accompanying photographs, which captured Greg’s desire to impress and his guest’s complete lack of interest in joining the game.
A motivational mother-father gentleman
Scott had noticed the inspirational images people repeatedly shared on Facebook: sunsets, trees and peaceful landscapes carrying lines about trust, pain or hope. Some were meaningful, while others seemed like unrelated words placed beside an unrelated animal. A solemn voice reading them aloud made even the least coherent examples sound profound.
To see whether anybody paid attention, Scott created one of his own. A photograph showed him in sunglasses, sitting cross-legged against a spiritual sky, while the text translated part of Psy’s chorus: “Let me tell you what type of person I am. I am bold, full of spirit, crazy and sharp. I’m a mother-father gentleman.” Hundreds liked and shared it, apparently responding to the familiar design before examining the words. Chris pointed out that many might simply be listeners joining the joke, but the image still spread exactly as intended.
Scott also recommended Long Island Medium, particularly Theresa Caputo’s habit of entering everyday situations and immediately telling strangers she could contact the dead. Chris promised to find the programme on demand.
Corner Man
Matt Edmondson discovered a friend missing from all 24 chapters of Chris’s autobiography: Corner Man. Nobody knew precisely how he had entered the friendship group. He simply began appearing in the pub, standing quietly in a corner and observing events until his presence became normal.
Corner Man said almost nothing and could leave without anybody noticing. Photographs proved he was consistently positioned at the edge of the group. One of his longest recent exchanges was a brief statement that he liked the Mila Kunis video. Matt wondered if an entire Tap End chapter might be required, but they concluded that the available material had already been exhausted.
Matt Edmondson plays Real or No Real
Jared Leto really had developed gout after gaining weight for Chapter 27. The illness prompted an attempt to remember other apparently old-fashioned conditions, including scurvy and trench foot. Tesco had not once refused to return photographs of itself after sending a film to be developed, and Naomi Campbell had not been photographed buying a sensible winter coat from a camping shop.
Jerry Springer really was born inside Highgate Underground station during the Blitz. Scott and Matt knew he had later entered American politics but had not realised his story began in London. Matt won 30–20 before returning to his Saturday and Sunday programmes.
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