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Saturday, 3 March 2012

Following the Mozziah Day 171 Saturday 3rd March 2012

(The scene is Morrissey's backstage dressing room at the Orfeo Superdomo, Cordoba, Argentina. It is Thursday 1st March 2012, 30 minutes before the concert is due to start)

(Musical director, Boz Boorer, approaches Morrissey's dressing room, loud music can be heard, coming from inside the room, it is the song 'Point of No Return' by Diana Dors and Morrissey's voice can be heard singing along at full volume. Boz, who is holding an ipad, knocks the door and waits. There is no answer, so he knocks again, this time harder. Still there is no reply and Diana Dors & Morrissey continue their 'duet' behind the closed door. Boz enters.)

MOZ: (singing and looking at Boz) "Why not give in?, let yourself go. The night goes by and after all you think you were a fool to fall, but long will the flame of love continue to buuurn because you've gone beyond the point of no retuuuuuuuuuurn." (The song ends and Moz addresses Boz, he is in good spirits) Ah, Boz, I bet old Fluck had more than her fair share of action eh?

BOZ: Who?

MOZ: Diana Fluck, Boz! (Boz looks perplexed) Double D! (Boz still looks perplexed) Diana 'bloody' Dors! The 'Siren of Swindon', mind you, I'm not overly keen on 'that' nickname, the only sirens I remember in Swindon were the ones in that sodding ambulance taking me to the Great Western Hospital, I tell you Boz, I thought I was a goner that night.

BOZ: You and Dors have a lot in common Moz, you've both had hard lives.

MOZ: I bet Dors had it hard alright, she certainly had her knockers (the pair laugh childishly). (Morrissey stops laughing and becomes serious) Now Boz, much as though I love spending time with you, you know full well that I am NOT to be disturbed in the lead up to one of my performances, and I particularly do not like to hear banging on my door, mid Dors, no pun intended, so what is it that you so urgently want?

BOZ: Have you seen this? (waves his ipad at Moz)

MOZ: (with a slight hint of sarcasm) It's an ipad Boz. Contrary to public perception, I am fully au fait with modern gadgetry, and although I still prefer the written word, to the typed one, I find that these days, I am becoming far more attached to the keyboard than I ever would have thought, although, as I've told you before, I still prefer the trusty laptop to the, obviously less cumbersome, and no doubt 'trendier', ipad, simply because I like the idea of the 'shielding' lid. You never know who's watching Boz.

BOZ: I know you know what an ipad is Moz, I meant have you read this story about that Judas Johnny Marr accepting an award from the NME? Bastard.

MOZ: Boz, I know you love any possible opportunity of having a dig at my former writing partner, but as I have said a million times before, I will not have a bad word said about him and he is CERTAINLY not a Judas, the only Judas in 'that' band, is that c*nt Joyce, who no doubt will jump all over twitter telling Johnny how wonderful it is to see him collecting an award from the NME, wanker.

BOZ: But have you read it?

MOZ: Boz, I spend hour after hour after hour, locked away in hotel rooms, of course I've read it, I've read every single article ever written about me, The Smiths, Johnny, You, for fucks sake Boz, I read everything, and I do mean, everything, including your twitter account, which may I remind you, is for mundane use only. You are only to tweet about what you have eaten and where you have been. You can also use it for promotion of your personal material and The Ragdolls, but DO NOT, and I mean this Boz, DO NOT, enter into any form of conversation with the 'MorrisseyWorlders' as they will try to trick you into letting on about the website, understand?

BOZ: Yes Moz, I've got the list you gave me of who not to converse with, but loads of them have been tweeting me, and they all seem friendly enough though, I don't think anybody's trying to trick me.

MOZ: That's what they want you to think, but they're devious swines Boz, especially the rat, he'll be all nicey nicey, but he could be Conor McNicholas in disguise, so give nothing away Boz.

BOZ: Do you think The Rat really is McNicholas?

MOZ: No, he's just a sad little man on the Isle of Wight, but just be on your guard old son.

BOZ: I will Moz, I promise. So aren't you bothered about Johnny collecting the NME award?, despite your unwavering loyalty, it does seem a kick in the teeth.

MOZ: Listen Boz, that award is nothing to do with the NME thinking The Smiths were great, which incidentally, they were (Boz screws up his face), that award is purely a pawn move by the NME in the chess game that is, my pending High court case.

BOZ: Eh?

MOZ: It's simple, and pathetic if I'm honest, but what the NME are trying to do Boz, is build a case against me, and when it comes to court, their lawyers will stand there and say, (adopts public school voice) "Our client certainly has no grievances with the plaintiff, why, it was only a couple of months ago that the NME awarded Mr Morrissey's band, (pretends to check notes for the name of band) The Smiths, an award, surely members of the jury, this is hardly the actions of a publication who the plaintiff accuses of disliking him? And what is more your honour, surely, if Mr Morrissey's song writing partner, a (pretends to check notes for name) Mr Marr, thought for one minute that the NME was unjust in calling Mr Morrissey a racist, he is hardly likely to have accepted the award now, is he?"

BOZ: And that's my point Moz, Johnny's condoning the NME by accepting it, he's played right into their hands.

MOZ: Boz, you're not telling me anything I don't know, but Johnny wouldn't have done that with any malicious intent toward me, he just would've wanted an award. Muttley didn't hate Dick Dastardly in 'Stop the Pigeon' Boz, he just wanted medals. Let's face it, Johnny was never going to win anything with 'Dormant Mouse', 'The Crabs' or any of the other two bit ensembles he's put together, so let him enjoy some recognition, although why exactly they've given an award for re-mastering my masterpieces, I really don't know. Without my lyrical genius, he may as well have been re-mastering a bunch of Shadows albums. A song is not a song without words Boz, I think you 'muso's' lose sight of that. Without words, a song becomes an instrumental piece, not a song.

BOZ: Without music, your lyrics would just become words.

MOZ: Ah, but that's where you are wrong Boz old son, because the words 'are' the song. A song can be sung acapella, but as I say, without words, you musicians all become Shadows tribute bands.

(Boz goes quiet for a moment while he takes this information in)

BOZ: So Moz, are you going to let the NME get one up on you then?

MOZ: Oh Boz, beautiful, simple, Boz, do you not know me better than that? Does anybody ever get the better of old Mozzer? Of course not, I will make a very brief statement during tonight's performance, that will put me back in the headlines, and confuse the media. I will announce that the Falkland islands belong to the Argentinians, which will therefore have the whole of the British press calling me anti-British. Picture the court house 'now' Boz, (adopts public school voice again) "Mr McNicholas (looks at notes), you lying, deceitful, arrogant c*nt"

BOZ: (interrupting) Er, I don't think they're allowed to say that Moz.

MOZ: Fair point. (re-adopts public school voice) "Mr McNicholas, are you trying to tell the court, that on one hand, Mr Morrissey is a racist, and on the other hand, he's anti-British? Now come, come, Mr McNicholas, which is it to be, is my client a racist or is he anti-British, you can't claim both? Or is it the case that my client is actually, neither racist or anti-British, and is in fact the victim of a personal hate campaign run by you, in which every publication you have ever worked for, just twists his words and makes up lies?" (adopts sniveling hack voice) "That's not fair your honour, (points in the mirror) he only said that about the Falklands to make everyone call him anti-British, he just did it to score points." (adopts public school voice) "And I put it to you Mr McNicholas, that the NME only gave The Smiths a recent award, to score points too, did they not?" (adopts sniveling hack voice) "That was nothing to do with me, I don't even work there anymore, that was the lawyer's idea to give the award. Shit, I wasn't supposed to say that, fuck, I'm crumbling, it's all going wrong, I'm a lowlife worthless c*nt, I only made up all those lies to further my career, it's what us hacks do you know, I'm not a bad man really."

BOZ: This court case is still on your mind then Moz?

MOZ: (slightly raised voice) Still on my mind? Still on my mind? Boz, I've been branded a racist in front of the whole world. Have you any idea what it is like being me, arranging tours, planning stage backdrops, organising transport, booking suitable venues, building a website fan base, preparing for a court case, trying to broker an album deal? When am I ever supposed to find time to create my next masterpiece, eh? You just haven't got a clue Boz, none of you have, I've got the world's fate resting on my shoulders and nobody gives a fuck, so don't come bursting in here telling me Johnny Marr is a Judas, I love 'that' man, and will do so to my dying day. (Sits down and goes quiet for a minute or so, while Boz looks at the floor with his eyes moistening.) And if it's any consolation, I love you too you great oaf.

BOZ: (wipes away a tear) Sorry Moz, I just didn't think.

MOZ: No, nobody ever does Boz, nobody ever does, but hey (leaps up), we've got a show to do, and tonight my friend, is your lucky night. (walks over to a hanging rail and takes hold of a sparkling blue dress, which he hands to Boz) It's Karen Miller.

BOZ: You mean Millen.

MOZ: No Boz, I mean Miller, I saw it in the market earlier today, they had a fantastic selection for the 'fuller figure', and when I saw this one, well, it had your name written all over it. I particularly like the vibrant blue colour, it reminded me of the 'Blue Rose Society' that my fans have started, if nothing else, they'll see this as a 'sign', and speaking of which, we need to really start ramping up the signs and clues, this parody website thing is taking far, far, longer to catch on than I thought it would, it's time to be less obvious. Can you believe, I've still only got five thousand odd followers on my 'parody' twitter thing, what's taking everybody so long to find me, I've made it pretty clear? And by the way Boz, how many followers has your 'official' account got?

BOZ: Oh, I've no idea, I haven't really looked.

MOZ: Then I'll tell you, you've got 363, you've done well there my old son.

BOZ: How do you 'know' these things?

MOZ: I've told you, I read everything Boz, absolutely everything, now off you trot with your dress, don't worry about paying me now, we'll sort that out at the end of the tour, and can you give these bra's to your musicians? (hands a bag of black bras to Boz) I think you'll find they fit ok.

BOZ: And what, may I ask, will you be wearing?

MOZ: Ah, well, despite what you probably think Boz, I do see us as a team, so I'll be joining in, look, (shows Boz his finger nails) I've painted them 'trash gold'. Different time, different place, I'd have been a New York Doll you know! Now, I just need a matching finger bandage for my poorly finger, and you need to spray the anti-perspirant on my back to create the sweaty heart, and then Boz, we are ready to rock and roll. (Boz leaves) (Moz turns Diana Dors back on and looks at himself in the mirror) Falklands? Pah! What does a fifty two year old rock legend from Manchester care about the poxy Falklands? One nil Mozzer.

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