The Trouble with Polly Brown (17 page)

Just as he promised, two songs later the noticeably excited DJ began his interview.

“Well then, Freddie, it's great to have you here in our humble little studio in Merseyside. Do me a huge favor by reminding our listeners just how many number one hits you've had.”

“Tony, it's great to have me on your show, and to be perfectly honest, I can't remember, but I think it's either thirteen or fourteen number one's when I last cared to count,” he cheerfully stated. “Yep, I think it's safe to say it was fourteen at last count.”

“You must be really pleased to hear that your latest, and I might add controversial, single, ‘Why Does Bad Feel So Good?' which was only released two weeks ago, has just made it to number one in the British charts.”

“Yeah, Tony. Now, how cool is that?” he laughed.

“Not cool at all, Freddie,” Polly abruptly interjected. “When are you going to grow up and start behaving like a responsible adult?” she angrily sniffed.

“Well, Freddie, I hope you don't mind, but the question on a lot of parents' minds is, Quite what is behind your latest message?”

“Yes, you've got that one right, Tone, for we're all asking that one,” Polly snorted.

“Sorry, Tony. I'm not exactly sure what you're getting at.”

“Well, Freddie, allow me the privilege of spelling it out for you. The lyrics to many of your songs appear to flaunt and encourage rebellion, and they all seem to have a blatant disregard toward the monarchy, as well as being anti-establishment.”

“Yeah, right. Well I happen to believe that we should scrap the monarchy, and while we're at it, let's scrap the government. Yeah, be done with the lot of them,” he snorted. “They are, after all, nothing more than a financial drain on the British economy,” he insisted.

“And so are you!” a very angry Polly shouted. “How dare you be so disgracefully rude about our dear queen and our government,” she continued to cry out as, taking hold of a stiff brush, she began to exact her revenge on the shoe in her hand. Yes, in history past, the queen would have been perfectly entitled to shout, “Off with his head!” to such a horrible, rude person.

“Freddie, dare I suggest that your lyrics seem deliberately antagonistic, as they regularly criticize our society leaders and imply that it's all right for all of us to do exactly whatever we fancy, whenever we feel like doing it? Are you sure this is the message you want to get out there?”

“Yeah, sure, Tony. I understand where you're coming from and what you're getting at, but shouldn't it be all right for all of us to do whatever makes us happy and has us feeling great?”

“Well, pardon me for saying this, but that sounds absurdly selfish to me, for surely that can't be right if it is at the expense of others?”

“My sentiments exactly!” Polly loudly shouted at the radio as she furiously continued brushing the same shoe.

“Well, I can't answer for anyone else, can I?” Freddie sourly stated, his voice beginning to betray distinct signs of irritation.

“OK, but surely you can agree with me that there are some things that, although they seem or appear right, plainly are not right.”

“Go on, Tone. Give it to him,” Polly shouted at the radio.

“I dunno! Don't ask me, Tony. I'm just a regular London lad. I'm not Einstein! Admittedly, I do get drunk, and yeah, I do confess to taking a few drugs, mainly for health reasons, of course.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” the DJ replied with an underlying note of sarcasm in his voice.

“But Tony, be a good bloke and give me a break here, for I do all these things because of the serious pressure that I'm constantly under. It's one of those things that just happens, probably because I'm constantly in the limelight,” he tried to suggest.

“Freddie, I have to be blunt and say that it's you who puts yourself in the limelight when you do and say such blatantly crazy things.”

“Quite right, Tone,” Polly interjected.

“Yeah, I know that, Tony, but really underneath I'm just a lovable pop idol who girls dig so much they put my posters on their bedroom walls and go to sleep most nights dreaming of me. What is also true is that we all know that the kids love to get high as they dance to the hypnotic rhythm of my beat. So tell me, now what could possibly be wrong with any of that? What the world needs more of is love, sweet love, and I'm happy to oblige, for I love the chicks, and the chicks, well, they really love me.”

On hearing all this nonsensical rubbish, Polly could hardly contain herself a moment longer.

“Right, Freddie, but that's only because they don't really know you. If they did, they'd know for sure that not only do you know nothing about true, unselfish love, but you're sadly nothing more than a callous, egotistical drunkard who'd sell your grandmother up the river for less than tuppence halfpenny,” she continued to furiously yell at the radio.

“Well, that's why I'm asking you all these specific questions, Freddie, for you seem to be so proud of your drug-taking antics and wild parties, and so many of your songs, dare I say it, not only seem aimed at teenagers but in many ways appear to encourage kids to copy you in pulling off outrageous stunts or otherwise succumb to random acts of violence.”

“What particular act of violence are we talking about here, Tony?” a now furious Freddie raged.

“Only last week you hit the headlines when you smashed up the hotel suite you were staying in.”

“OK, hands up on that one. Maybe things did get a little out of control,” he childishly sniggered. “Yeah, Tony, not too keen to do that one again, for that unfortunate little episode cost me an arm and a leg,” he added. “The bill ran into the thousands.”

“Shame on you, Freddie!” an indignant Polly continued to shout into the radio. “That money could have been put to much better use,” she cried. “Instead you spend it all getting high and wrecking hotels, you stupid, dumb idiot.”

“Well then, Freddie, there was also that girlfriend who claims you assaulted her. It was the main story selling papers a few weeks ago, and I think I am speaking on behalf of most of my listeners when I say that the whole nation was shocked by the severity of her injuries. I mean, you must have seen that the front page of most newspapers had pictures of her lying in a hospital bed covered in bruises with a severely fractured jaw.”

“Tony, what can I say in my defense except to say, don't believe everything you see and read? She really didn't look half as bad as some of those pictures portrayed.”

“Excuse me?” a shocked Tony interrupted.

“Go on, Tone. Go for the jugular, and give him what for,” Polly shouted as she continued to butt in on the interview.

“Tony, you wanna know something? I believe the media are really out to get me, really I do. I mean, I feel framed. Yeah, the whole thing's a setup, for they definitely used theater makeup to make her injuries look a whole heap worse than what they really were,” he mournfully bleated.

“But wait a minute, Freddie! You really don't get it, do you? No decent, thinking man would ever think to resort to any such violence. No woman deserves this, for may I say that at the end of the day they are the fairer and, so, the weaker sex. And I have to add that no right-minded man would ever think to do such a thing,” the frustrated DJ cried out as he tried and failed to understand where his guest was coming from. “I mean, if it's all right for you, a star, to resort to such inhumane violence, then can you not see that you are giving the go-ahead for every troubled male teenager to do likewise? Surely you can clearly see that.”

“No, I don't see things your way. Really I don't,” Freddie angrily snorted.

“Unbelievable!”

“Look, believe you me, Tony. She had it coming to her. For one thing, she had far too much to drink that night, and so had I. I tell you now, hand on heart, that she swung the first punch, and I can't remember much after that,” he guffawed.

“Laugh as much as you like, Freddie, for I believe she is now in the process of filing a major lawsuit against you.”

“Well, she sure won't win,” he grumbled.

“That's not for you to say, and this is why so many parents have written in to my show asking me to represent them and, in doing so, voice their concerns. After all, you are a superstar!”

“Yes, Freddie. Tone speaks for us all, and remember this: ‘he who laughs last, laughs loudest,'” Polly fumed.

“Yeah, yeah. They can be as angry as they like, but to tell you the truth, Tony, right now I really don't give a monkey about anything they say.”

“Freddie, you should, for my listeners feel they have every reason to be angry with you. They believe you to be an appalling role model for their children. Do you agree or disagree?”

“Of course I don't agree with them, Tony. And why should I? They are just jealous, and that's why they all want to stick the boot in! I mean, half the girls 'round here are actually asking for it anyway, if you get my drift,” he huffed.

“That's your opinion, and I really don't agree with you.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Freddie, don't you think the parents have a point? Boys need to grow up respecting and protecting girls, not beating them up!”

“Come on, Tone. Tell it like it is. Speak up, and don't hold back; he needs to hear the truth from someone,” Polly yelled out as she threw her polishing brush at the wall as a mark of protest.

“Come on, Tony, give me a break here. It's as though the whole world wants to place the blame on me for this girl's plight, as well as all the mess their own seriously dysfunctional kids are in,” he angrily snorted. “Yes, mums and dads, I believe it's called
parental responsibility
,” he scornfully sneered. “And as I haven't fathered any of your little blighters, I surely cannot be hung, drawn, and quartered for every imaginable and random act of violence from now to the end of Christendom!” he said, gnashing his teeth with rage.

“Calm down, Freddie!” the radio host intervened.

“No, I won't calm down until I've said what needs to be said. I feel I must yet again repeat that I am not the guilty party here!” he angrily shouted down the microphone.

“OK, mate, keep your knickers on,” Tony ordered. “In fact, tell you what. Later on in the show we will be opening up the phone lines so that parents from all over the British Isles can have the rare opportunity of speaking directly with you. I hope you're up for it, mate, as it will be quite challenging. As of this moment there appears to be a growing number of upset, if not outraged, parents out there, and they are all dying to get their hands on you and then scalp you!”

“You bet there are!” Polly continued to yell at the radio. “I wish I was able to get my hands on a telephone, because I'd not hesitate to phone in and give you a small piece of my mind,” she angrily sniffed.

Polly could tell from his silence that the strain of the interview was beginning to take its toll on Freddie. His long silence before responding to the DJ's announcement seemed to speak for itself that Freddie Fruitless was highly agitated by Tony's line of questioning. Polly was delighted.

“Yeah right, Tony. But as you so rightly stated earlier in the show, I am a superstar, and that in itself gives me rights and privileges that ordinary, undeserving people don't get, doesn't it? Before you answer that one, can I say that I only sing the songs, so I do not think I am in any way responsible if my fans take what I say literally and then go out there and do wild, crazy, if not downright illegal things.”

“So you don't think you should take any responsibility or criticism whatsoever for any of the violent acts you so readily suggest in the lyrics of many of your songs?”

“Nope. None whatsoever, mate!” he huffed and puffed. “Mate, it's called
artistic expression
, and yeah, I know none of my songs will ever make it on Sunday night's
Songs of Praise
, but if, heaven forbid, they ever did, then you can bet your life something's gone real wrong.”

“Right. Well, one of your lyrics says, and I quote, ‘Dope is my coke and my reason for living. So live it up, live it up, and then you'll find your freedom.' Come on, Freddie. Get real. Are drugs really freedom?”

“Yes, Freddie, you right wally. Go into the prisons and mental hospitals, and then tell us if drugs bring freedom,” Polly continued to yell at the radio.

“Yeah, Tony, my boy, I am being real. I think it's a great line in a great song.”

“Well then, you are encouraging youngsters all over Great Britain to try out drugs using blatant lies, stating that in experimenting with downright dangerous drugs they will experience freedom.”

“Yeah, well, it's a sort of inner freedom, really.”

“Surely you of all people know that drug-taking only leads to immense misery, family breakdowns, prison sentences, and in some cases death. After all, you've lost two band members to drugs in the last year! Am I correct?”

“Yeah, pretty sad really. They were such nice blokes, and their kids and families aren't taking it at all well. Yeah, very sad.”

“OK then, Freddie. Surely if you really did care about your band members and their families, you would warn of the dangers of drugs. Instead of which, you seem to sing their praises.”

“No, not really, mate, so don't go putting words into my mouth,” he sulkily sniffed.

“I am only asking you to explain to our listeners what you really mean, as many of them are most concerned that you are wrongly influencing their children, and so they wholeheartedly believe you are not what they want their sons and daughters to follow after.”

“OK, that's it. I'm out of here. I am, after all, a superstar with more number ones under my belt than you've had cooked dinners, so I don't have to hang around this God-forsaken hole and listen to your moralizing load of—” Freddie's microphone was suddenly cut off. Tony's voice quickly returned to fill the silence.