The following transcript is what is legally printable from their evening out together.
WIWTN: Good evening Gentlemen. Good to see you all here. Now, who’s drinking what?
Damon Albarn: Pint of lager please. Stella, I reckon.
Peter Stringfellow: Sex on the beach please.
Lord Satan: Sheesh. How obvious. None of that crap for me. Just a simple bottle of Scotch, barkeep.
Clint Eastwood: Hmmmm….Yeah. The Same.
With the drinks bought we all sat down at the table nearest the bar, and the questioning began.
WIWTN: If you’d failed at your chosen career, what do you think you would have been?
DA: Probably an English teacher, or something like that. Good hours, plenty of holidays, and still surrounded by groups of adoring fifteen year olds. Not much difference really from being a pop star.
CE: I’d like to have become a genetic engineer and create the first woman/dog hybrid.
WIWTN: Why?
CE: It’s be the perfect being, obviously. I tried to make a film about it ‘SheBitch’ but no one wanted to finance it.
WIWTN: Moving swiftly on, Peter, what would you have been?
PS: Well, I can’t ever imagine working anywhere without women’s tits and arses in my face all day long. But I guess if stripping was made illegal or something, I’d have probably been a-
DA: Homelss twat who drinks meths out of a puke covered thermos?
PS: Leave it Albarn. I was about to say-
LS: Career convict.
PS: And you Satan. AS I was saying. I’d have been a-
WIWTN: Seedy old man who worked in an underground brothel.
PS: Oi! Just fuc- Oh, I mean, yes, that was what I was about to say.
LS: That was my choice too. Bastard. I’ll have to think of something else now.
DA: Wouldn’t you have rather not fallen to hell and just been a nice ordinary angel?
LS: No way. Angels are basically fucking slaves to God. I’d like to set a few things straight whilst I’m here. I wasn’t revolting against him, as it’s been erroneously reported. I was just trying to start a trade union, get fairer hours and working conditions. The Angel suicide rate was through the roof in my day, everyone was so depressed. But he just got pissed of with me and sent me to the pits of hell. Which were quite nice in comparison.
WIWTN: Could you just stick to answering the question, Satan, as sadly we haven’t got time to go in to religious politics right now.
LS: Oh alright. I’d probably have been a singer in a boyband. I do like to wiggle my pointy little arse and sing like crazy.
WIWTN: Interesting. If a little worrying. Okay, on to the next question. Who do you think should be London Mayor?
DA: Well, obviously, I’m well in with Ken. We were sharing a few whiskeys down at the Groucho the a couple of months ago, and I told him he just had to run independently. He’d definitely win it, hands down, and everybody knows it. And he said to me ‘Damon, you’re dead right. I’ll run as long as you promise to stop making shit records about your ex-girlfriends.’ So I lied and said I would, and the very next day he announced his intentions to run independently.
PS: Well I’m behind Labour through and through. They make me up 85% of my customers so I don’t want to risk upsetting them. And Ken only pops in for a lapdance about once a month, which, if you ask me, is a bit cheap. I make sure I have at least three or four a day. Keeps me young.
LS: I keep you young, and don’t ever forget it Stringfellow.
PS: Shut it!
CE: Hey you kids, keep it down. You’re getting away from the question. As an ex-mayor myself I know what it takes to be such an important figure in public life. And in my view no one’s up for the job. Not one of your poncey politician even carries a gun for fuck sake. What kind of world do they think we’re living in?
DA: So are you packing heat right now Clint?
CE: Of course. I’ve got two handguns in each sock, one up my sleeve, and a big rifle hidden in the toilet. I’ve heard about this Dorking place and it’s all girl gangs, and knew I had to come prepared.
PS: I alwa-
WIWTN: Oh no you don’t Stringfellow. That’s too obvious a joke even for this bollocks. More drinks I believe.
Another round is purchased, with Albarn and Stringellow turning to spirits as well
WIWTN: Right, I think a more controversial question is needed to spice things up.
The Daily Mirror suggested this week that Princess Diana was awful in bed. Do you reckon Princess Di was a good shag?
Satan: Well I was just chatting to her the other day, and I have to say she has got a bit of a sarcastic, even possibly dark side to her. And a really dirty laugh when she hears a pornographic joke. So yes, I imagine she’s pretty good. If I had genitals I’d try her out.
DA: You’ve got no genitals?
LS: Fallen or not I’m still an Angel. And if you’ve done your homework you should know that God created us without sexual organs. He has this rather interesting theory on how penis envy will lead to the end of the world actually. But it’s a bit long and boring to go into here.
WIWTN: Ahem, any chance of returning to the question?
PS: Well, I’ve known men who have had their sexual organs inside hers, and they say that she was pretty average. One guy I know, who’ll remain nameless, did Princess Anne about twenty years ago too, and he said she was much better. Made horse noises throughout. And sure knew how to use a whip.
DA: Rumour has it that the Queen Mother was a right good ‘un. Do you fancy her Clint?
CE: Christ! Just because you get older your taste in women doesn’t get worse. If I had the chance I’d (THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES OF EASTWOOD’S GUTTERAL RAMBLINGS HAVE BEEN CENSORED) and Britney Spears with a bottle any time I could. Anyway, time for the next round. Same again for me.
The drinks are bought at considerable cost to WIWTN’s wallet. Eastwood’s looking sturdy though the rest are now looking a bit wobbly, and Lord Satan has already visited the public lavatories a fair few times.
WIWTN: Okay, on a more civilised note, if you could change the world in one way for the better, what would you do?
PS: Open a stripclub in every town in the country. Then at least 50% of the population would be happy.
DA: Do you ever think about anything other than sex?
PS: Only very occasionally. Like, just after sex when the bird’s throwing up in the toilet. That’s a right turn off.
DA: Yeeessss. Okay. Moving swiftly on, if I could change one thing, I think I’d repair the ozone layer to stop everyone getting cancer.
LS: Oh no you fucking wouldn’t. It’s taken me years to burn through that bastard thing. About 2000 infact.
WIWTN: So that’s what you’ve been up to!
LS: That and the weather in general. The more extreme the weather is, the more miserable people are, and the more suicides take place. I’ve had to open a second Hell – ‘Euro Hell’ just to have space for everyone. It’s a lovely place. You should come and visit sometime. Infact apart from you, Clint, you’ll all be seeing me soon enough.
WIWTN: Hey! What have I done? I mean, I know all you celeb’s go around committing the seven deadly sins on a daily basis, but I’m just a lowly web hack.
LS: Who has killed over 4000 moths in his lifetime.
WIWTN: But I hate them! The bastard moths are always attacking me wherever I go. Pubs, nightclubs, cinema’s – no where is safe!
DA: Are you telling me that we go to hell for killing insects?
LS: They are all god’s creatures, however small, and you are doing him a great dis-service by killing something he created. He gets especially angry when people kill snails. Took him ages to get them right, you see. He sentences those people to infinity in hell.
PS: Hey, how come Eastwood’s not going to Hell?
CE: Well, I’ve just never actually killed anything in my life. Ever.
LS: (laughing) Ah, good one Clint. It’s actually because God’s a big movie fan, and he likes to have the big names at all his parties. Sigh.(Getting Angrier) And all I get nowadays is b-list celebrities like Cilla Black’s husband, and a few hairy blokes who used to play guitar in crap punk bands.
WIWTN: Okay, well, you’ve pretty much ignored that question, and just started rambling again. So time for a few more drinks, and whilst you’re at the bar, mull this question over. If you only had twelve hours to live, what would you do?
PS: I’d just pay all the girls at my club to sleep with me, and go out orgasming over twenty or so naked bodies. That or settle down with a nice bottle of Absinthe and get absolutely fucking mashed with a few old friends. Hmmmm. No, on second thoughts, definitely my first choice.
DA: I’d do one last show, and kill myself on stage. Then Blur would definitely go down in History.
LS: Suicide leads to hell, you know.
DA: Sigh. Okay, I’d pretend to kill myself on stage, then go home and die alone. Happy now?
LS: Yes.
WIWTN: And you Satan?
LS: Well, I’m immortal, so such questions are irrelevant to me. Ha ha.
WIWTN: I’m sure God could end your life.
LS: Perhaps. I suppose if I only had twelve hours left I’d spend it doing what I’ve most enjoyed in life. Death. After-life. You know what I mean.
PS: And that is?
LS: Torturing and killing, mainly. I’d get all the people I hate most in Hell and really let them have it. Elvis, Lennon, Cobain, all those whining pop stars who have filled the lower regions of hell with their shite music.
WIWTN: Okay. Fair enough. And you Mr Eastwood?
CE: I’m afraid I have agree with Stringfellow. Mixing Sex and alcohol is the only way to enjoy yourself….Well, mixing sex,alochol, drugs and animals is pretty fine too actually.
WIWTN: Okay. Time for one last question. What’s the worst tabloid story you’ve read about yourself? And was it true or false?
CE: The New York Times claimed I slept with the orang-utan from Every Which Way But Loose, but I swear, we were only platonic friends who liked sharing naked jacuzzi’s together. Still, I’d rather have slept with the monkey than that bird from Elastica.
DA: Oi! She wasn’t that bad!
PS: Even I turned her down.
LS: Yup, me too.
DA: (muttering) bastards.
WIWTN: Ahem, any chance of returning to the question.
PS: The Sun once claimed I was a virgin. But I’ve got an extensive video collection that proved them to be the dirty liars they are.
DA: You video yourself having sex with people?
PS: Doesn’t everyone?
CE: Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but that monkey video was a fake, so just fucking leave it.
PS: Ooookkkkkaaaayyyy.
DA: The National Enquirer once claimed I slept with Liam Gallagher. But it was just a lookalike.
WIWTN: Really? Was he any good?
DA: Yeah, not bad. I liked the feeling of stubble against my lips – that’s why I stayed with Justine for so long.
PS: Ah, I knew there had to be some reason.
WIWTN: Satan? Any thing to say?
LS: I could list a million depraved things I’ve done, but the worst was when I drank too much and slept with Queen Victoria (shivers). The only advice I’ve ever given people is not to sleep with a ninety year old corpse.
WIWTN: Okay, and on that rather disgusting note, I think we should end things. Thank you for coming along, and I look forward to seeing you all soon. Bar you, Peter, of course.
Next Time In Down The Pub: An All Girl Interview! With Britney Spears, Drew Barrymore, Margaret Thatcher and The Queen Mum (if she’s not dead by then).
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