It all started with the audition, I thought it would be a laugh like, that grey day in Kentish town in 1978. Some of ‘em was at school with me and they wasn’t all that.

Then when I got up there my nerves failed me and I completely froze. It was a bit of an embarassment to be honest.

They looked at me kindly and one of ‘em said “Perhaps you just ain’t cut out to be a nutty boy!”

I left feeling crestfallen, but didn’t think no more of it, really.

It was only a couple of years later when I saw them on Top of the Pops that I felt a pang of regret, I’d got my girl pregnant and trainee plumbers didn’t earn much back then. Meanwhile here were these herberts walking in a stupid line in front of DLT and Legs and co.

It rankled, but I figured, popstars aint famous for more than two years and plumbing’s a job for life.

But they wouldn’t leave me alone, when my car broke down on the way to a job in Leytonstone, they was on radio 1 driving in their sodding car too.

It seemed they was laughing at me from afar and I wished they’d just shut up.

This went on for years. I began to believe that Suggs had stolen my life., There was me up to my knees in effluence and condensation, there was him, hobnobbing with Michael Caine.

Then they went away. Became yesterdays men and my life took a turn for the better.

We moved out to Essex, business went well, we went on holidays, I was happy, who wanted to be a silly popstar?

All was fine til they announced a comeback, only this time they stayed forever. Of course, things got worse very quickly for me, my wife left me, I went bankrupt and was left here in this rickety old house in the middle of our street. Now they was on every radio station, not just pop ones. On radio 4 Suggs done a documentary about the London docklands while on radio 3 an orchestra played the overture from The Liberty of Norton Folgate.

I became a recluse unable to move from my bed, gripped by sleep paralysis, trying to remember one better day, with only the constant earworms of my evil nemeses to remind me of the outside world.

It was time to fight back.

My plan came together surprisingly easily. All you have to do is hang round Camden Town long enough dressed as a mid-century comedy figure like a cop or a chimney sweep and they can’t resist coming close enough.

I got “Chrissy Boy” Foreman on a zebra crossing on Parkway posing as a lollipop man, for “Monsieur” Barso” I donned the attire of a French mime artist in Regent’s Park, Lee “Kix” Thompson and “Chas Smash” fell for the old convict carrying a ball and chain ruse. Suggs himself was hardest but I eventually caught him by parading up and down Camden High Street in a pair of the baggiest trousers ever made, back of the head with a plastic cup, into the van!

I deposited each of them into my pitiless dark cellar with its legend “welcome to the House Of Fun” upon the door and left them there to devour each other, starve or be eaten by vermin.

The police came this morning. Sadly when they got the door open, they found they was all still alive, shivering and cold. They led em away barely able to take one step beyond another.

And now as I prepare for the judge to pronounce my fate, I realise that I have had the last laugh, because, of course, I have ended up in madness after all.