(This is one of my favourites among the tales of Roy in Clingfilm that other people have sent for the author has pretended they are me! They have even included my terrapin Jetta which I appreciate. - Ulli)
I am taking Jetta for a stroll in the park; she has become a high-maintenance terrapin of late. The sun is shining, a rarity for Düsseldorf, so our spirits are high but little do we know just how gay our day will become.
In the not so distant horizon, in the shade of the trees I see that man in black. I panic, as the bitter sweet memories of our previous encounters come flooding back.
I walk towards him, ensuring our paths will meet once more.
‘Hello Roy, we must stop meeting like this!’
‘Indeed’
‘I am taking Jetta for a walk in the park. What brings you to these parts of Düsseldorf?’
Jetta looks up at Roy, but doesn't say hello, still scarred from undergoing various court proceedings to get out of the RSPCA detention halls which had blemished her disposition so horrifically, after Roy was less than amused with the first cling-film-related incident and foolishly decided to get the police involved.
In fact there are still nights where Jetta tosses and turns as she has nightmares of heavily built and rather unkempt terrapins creeping up from behind her and saying ‘Could you pass the soap’ in the terrapin pool enclosure.
‘I am here to attend a séance’ replies Roy.
‘Excellent. I too am about to partake in a séance’ I say, being rather economical with the truth ‘It is going to take place in my house, let us walk there together’
Jetta rolls her eyes, but remains steadfast in her silence.
‘Very well, let us depart’
Upon discussing a range of topical subjects, Roy and I build a rapport as we all stroll homeward. Having reached my humble abode, I apologise for the clutter while I get Roy Orbison seated. Presently, I begin to unearth an assortment of candles and incense-sticks which I place around a rug I have established in the centre of the room.
‘Incidentally, I forgot to mention, there will only be the two of us at this séance’
‘Ah’
Roy begins to look slightly flustered, so I offer him a cup of coffee. He declines and suggests we get on with contacting the spirit of John Lennon (Roy was exploring a different genre of music for his new comeback album ‘envisage’)
Now seated on the rug, my palms begin to sweat; I have no idea of what to do next. Roy senses that something is amiss and looks at me expectantly. The atmosphere becomes tense, and I feel an overwhelming awkwardness in the air. I wish to die. In that moment I curse God for making me live those awkward minutes.
Fortunately, at that juncture, an incense-stick falls upon the over-tasseled rug and catches fire, and I know there is a God.
The flames hiss and spit, and a spark jumps upon Roy’s black suit, and begins to ravage his arm. Alarmed, Roy jumps up and exclaims ‘Don’t just stand there, man, do something for the love of Christ!’
‘Perhaps I better get the cling-film’
‘What?! You can’t put out a fire with cling-film’
‘No, I don’t suppose I can, but I could try. It will however help your hand, in which case you need not to worry about skin grafts. I’d better wrap your whole body, just to be on the safe side’
‘Very well’.
Roy again seems a bit flustered, but I feel it would be unwise to say anything.
I walk briskly to my kitchen, fetch my cling-film and return to find the fire has died down. I walk toward Roy signaling I have the cling-film.
‘Commence’
I start at the ankles and work my way up, slowly and carefully. Having only wrapped the first half of Roy Orbison, I am already filled with rampant joy. I feel only unadulterated ecstasy, and the elation momentarily causes me to lose balance. I regain my composure and finish him off. I stand and delight in my achievement. The feeling is unsurpassed.
‘When do you suppose it will be safe to take the cling-film off?’
‘We shall have to see’
Jetta gives me a dirty look.
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