Well, you've pretty much bagged the best one with the Darth Vader motif... or have you? I think I would have to choose the only thing that could top it, Carl Orff's Carmina Burana.
Hell yeah. You'd let most of it play while you were offstage, and then time your entrance for when it all goes mental at the end, being very, very careful not to then trip over or walk into anything.
Hmm, that's the drawback though, isn't it? Living up to the billing. Unless you've decided to kill everyone in sight, or you're going to announce you're the new messiah or anti-christ and are fairly confident you can back it up, or you intend to wordlessly grab hold of someone you've secretly had a crush on for years and snog them so good their socks burst into flame, anything you could possibly say or do would be a bit anti-climactic after that. I mean you couldn't come into the pub after that or the Vader tune and go, 'Ooh, the day I've had, I've been on the go since breakfast and me feet are killing me,' or enter Tesco's like that only to buy a bag of Cheese Wotsits and a can of Vimto, count your change and bugger off again.
This is the hidden downside of life for people who have a tremendous amount of presence and charisma. There are certain things you just can't do because the effect would be too incongruous. Winston Churchill liked nothing better in life than to play a game of Hungry Hippos, yet he never felt able to because he knew it would disappoint all the people expecting him to be this inspiring superhuman figure who would lead them all to victory. He would come into a room where people were playing Hungry Hippos, and just stand there watching wistfully and trying not to be noticed. But he always would be noticed, and his very presence would make all the people feel embarrassed to be doing something so trivial, and they would start playing stiffly and awkwardly, or else just stop. So he would growl, 'Carry on. There may come a day when darkness falls across the world and no man may play Hungry Hippos free from fear, for I do not believe Herr Hitler cares for the game. But this is not that day and we are not the people to be frightened from our pastimes. So long as the sound of ravenous hippopotami clashing their teeth and devouring their fodder can be heard ringing out into the ether, we shall know in our hearts there is hope for mankind.' So they would all go back to playing with pride and determination, and Churchill would go forlornly back to his office and cry like a girl. (It was true, incidentally, that Hitler didn't like Hungry Hippos; however he did love to hula-hoop but could only do it in secret and would shoot anyone who caught him at it.) Similarly when Jack Bauer tries to play Pictionary, his natural air of urgency and intensity infects everyone around him and makes the whole thing really stressful and fraught. It's not so bad when he draws himself, but when he has to guess he's all, 'Damn it, come on... is that a cat? We don't have time for flourishes, just give me the information...damn it, that has to be a cat... give me a channel to CTU... Chloe, I'm going to download a graphic for you, I need you to run a check against all known breeds of cat... wait, or it might be a horse, damn it," until his partners get really flustered and break their pencil.
But I digress.
A close runner-up, somewhat easier to live up to: George Cole's theme tune from the St. Trinian's films.
Is it worth being "just good friends" with a member of the opposite sex?
No. Unless they're really good at baking, or they let you watch them getting changed or something.
More Answers to Correspondents
24th Feb 07
-- (Incidentally, unless 'The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles' lied to me, and I don't see why they should, Erich Von Stroheim used to have a private orchestra and choir play Carmina Burana for him as he took his wake-up swim in his indoor pool of a morning.)