Greg Davies: You Magnificent Beast Page #2

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that neither Christine or myself

have ever bought or used a sex aid."

Contract fulfilled, old woman.

But it must have got to me,

'cause I found myself thinking,

"I wonder if there's something nice

I can tell everyone.

A nice story I can tell about my mom

to take away the taste of the filth,

you know?"

So I found myself going, "Oh, let me see."

And I thought of something.

When I was eight years of age,

just eight,

I was gonna say little Greg,

but I was a freak of nature then, as well.

Not the six-foot-eight monstrosity

you see before you,

but I was still disgustingly long.

I went past Clinton Cards,

which if you don't know the shop,

it's for people with no taste, largely.

Bankrupt.

And stringy old eight-year-old Greg,

skipped past Clinton Cards

and there was a bear in the window,

three-foot tall.

And I remember going,

"If only I could have that.

That toy, that...

long toy for a long boy."

I said to my mom, "I've seen

this giant bear, could I have it?"

She goes, "Well, we'll chat with Santa

and see what he says."

I go, "Okay."

A couple of days later,

she came back, and she went,

"I'm sorry, love.

I've spoken to Santa, and...

I'm afraid that bear is 75.

Santa can't afford it this year."

I thought, "That's a shame,

although Santa does appear

to be able to afford

quite a lot of f***ing cigarettes."

I was on to Santa.

I'd met him the year before.

I was sharing a room with my sister.

He came in.

His fag wasglowing in the dark.

He was clearly sh*t-faced.

When I said, "Hello, Santa," he told me

to piss off in a woman's voice.

So, I was on to Santa.

But I thought, "Fair enough,

she can't afford it."

I just let it go.

Now, it obviously got to her,

'cause a couple of days later,

she came back...

She went, "Oh...

I've spoken to my friend Carol.

We think we can make you a giant bear."

And I remember thinking, "Uh..."

I was only eight years of age,

but I thought, "Oh...

that sounds sh*t, doesn't it?

That sounds sh*t."

She took a dirty old blue blanket out

of the garage,

and I thought,

"Yep, this is gonna be sh*t."

Then every two days on the buildup

to Christmas, she'd come over...

"Project's coming on.

Project's coming on."

Christmas day, I ran into the front room

and under the tree,

there was a giant parcel for me.

And I ripped it open. And there he was.

I met him for the first time.

BT.

"Blue Ted."

Five-foot tall.

Five foot. They added two feet onto it.

And he became a firm friend of mine

for many years to come.

He really did.

Like I said. It's just...

You seem surprised.

It's just a nice story.

No, no. No, there's no need for that.

We're not in America. It's fine.

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