(I have had a glimpse of the future…)
Robbie Williams, secretly amazed that he seems to be able to do anything he wants AND still get paid a fortune decides to put the general public to test. He sets about recording an album called “Inside Me”. He has a number of microphones implanted on and in his person. The results will be released in his highly conceptual album, each microphone recording a separate track. Standout tracks will be “Gonad” ( rustling noises the result of a strategically placed miniature microphone between his two testicles ), “What I Hear” ( an inner ear microphone recording lots of people saying “Well done, Robbie” and “Good boy…good boy.” ) and “Duodenum” ( lots of gurgling and slushy noises ).
Vanessa Feltz and Ainsley Harriot get together and brainstorm a corking new gameshow which conspires to be the televisual hit of 2002. “Feltz My Ainsley” features the two mentally beleaguered celebrities sitting in separate booths, their only contact with the outside world being large speakers which are connected to telephones of members of the public. Which member of the population is connected to which celebrity is decided by public auction (all money going to charity ). The winner is allowed to scream abuse at high volume, night and day for as long as they care to.
The Royal Family will undergo it’s greatest crisis to date when Prince Charles is captured (via telephoto lens) doing more than hugging trees on his Scottish estate. With the public outraged and the future of the Monarchy in grave doubt, the Queen is forced to act. She secretly flies in a cabal of powerful Haitian voodoo priests who manage to revive the decayed corpse of H.R.H Princess Diana. The public rejoice. Andrew Morton makes a fucking fortune. Royal watchers say she has actually become more graceful during her time with the dead. She goes on to be Queen. No-one can tell the difference.
Jamie Oliver ( the most talented man alive ) is driven mad by the pressure of the fame he so obviously doesn’t deserve. He invites his entire ginormous family round to his house on the pretext of cooking a big meal for them but instead butchers them all. After a number of months without seeing any members of Mr. Olivers family in Sainsbury’s adverts, public complaints rise to record levels and the Police are called in to investigate. They arrive at the young stars home to find him sitting in a circle of his own decayed relatives. He has placed small tape recorders in their mouths playing his own voice back to him on a perpetual loop … “Pukka…Pukka…Pukka”. He has also constructed an elaborate pulley system so that he can make them all clap by pulling a single string and most sinister of all replaced their eyes with mirrors so that all he can see is himself. He is incarcerated but public demand soon has him released and riding around with his dead grandmother strapped to his moped.
(These are just dreams I have had. They may not necessarily come true.)