The setting is immediately outside London Waterloo train station, it is present day.
TRB has just arrived on a train from Portsmouth, and is waiting to be collected by a car, sent by Our Mozzer. A black Mercedes S500 pulls up. The Morrissey coat of arms flag is attached to the front of the bonnet.
The car is being driven by guitarist/musical director/producer/rock-a-billy Boz Boorer, and in the front passenger seat is the fairly unknown author, Michael Bracewell. Boz Boorer winds down the window.
BOZ: Are you the Rat bloke?
TRB: Yes, how did you know?
BOZ: There are very few people standing around Waterloo station in 2012 wearing a 'Shoplifters of the World' t-shirt. Get in.
(TRB gets into the the rear of the car. Bracewell twists the drivers rear view mirror so that he is looking at TRB.)
BRACEWELL: Has anybody ever told you that you look a bit like Phil Collins?
(Boz grabs the rear view mirror and twists it so that he can look at TRB)
BOZ: Nah, he looks more like a nineteen eighties Ray Reardon.
(Bracewell twists the rear view mirror back his way to again look at TRB)
BRACEWELL: You're wrong Boz, Reardon had more hair than that.
(Boz twists the mirror back and looks at TRB)
BOZ: But he's definitely got more hair than Collins.
(Bracewell twists the mirror back again and looks at TRB)
BRACEWELL: Perhaps you're right Boz, perhaps you're right, but not 'much' more.
(Bracewell opens the glove compartment and takes out a black scarf. Without turning around, he passes it over his shoulder to TRB)
BRACEWELL: Tie this tightly around your head so that it covers your eyes.
TRB: (takes the scarf) Why?
BRACEWELL: Look son, I don't think you realise quite how lucky you are that Morr-ee-say has not only decided to let you interview him, but has also decided to invite you to his house. NOBODY, and I do mean NOBODY, is EVER invited to his house. For some reason Morr-ee-say has taken a bit of a shine to you, but I've read your blog, and I just don't get what he sees. Your vocabulary is significantly limited, your spelling and grammar are poor, and you aren't remotely funny. I should also warn you that however much you think you KNOW how Morr-ee-say feels, you DON'T. Every two bit fan like you thinks you have a connection with him, but let me give you a little friendly word of advice, Morr-ee-say is a one off, an enigma, he is the Wilde of our generation, so DON'T go thinking you have ANYTHING whatsoever in common with him, you are just a fan, like all the rest, OK?
TRB: Er, yeah, I never thought anything different.
BRACEWELL: Good. And I should make you aware, that after today, that will be the end of it. Morr-ee-say will see you for what you are, and he won't acknowledge you again. Don't be disappointed, it's just the way it is.
TRB: I thought I was meeting parody Moz?
BRACEWELL: (pauses for thought) Yes, yes you are, but he's complex too. Put the scarf on and we can get going.
TRB: But you haven't told me why I have to wear it.
BOZ: Listen Rat, if Mozzer's fans all knew where he lived, he'd have 'em camped out on his lawn, and that just wouldn't do. There's a good reason that he never tells anybody where he lives, he doesn't wanna see anyone. You really do have NO idea what 'e's like you know.
BOZ BOORER & MICHAEL BRACEWELL
(TRB puts on the blindfold and Boz Boorer starts the car)
TRB: Is it a long drive?
BOZ: Sorry son, I can't tell you. We could be staying in London, in which case I'll just drive around, we could be heading up the motorway, we may even be heading back down South. We'll be in the car for a few hours though, so you may as well get your head down, and don't bother asking us anything about anything, cos we're not allowed to say.
BRACEWELL: One last thing, when we get there, if Morr-ee-say decides he is still going to allow you to interview him, which after seeing you, he may well not, then for God's sake DON'T mention The Smiths, OK?
BOZ: Or the NME thing.
TRB: That was going to be my first question.
BRACEWELL: (smirks at Boz) Oh, I'm sure he won't mind the NME thing being mentioned. (Boz attempts to speak in protest, but Bracewell puts his finger to his lips. Boz pauses and then smiles).
(The car drives off and Boz puts on a home made compilation cd of various rock-a-billy songs. Nobody speaks during the whole journey. The Mercedes eventually pulls to a halt.)
TRB: Are we there?
BOZ: Nearly, I'm just popping into Greggs to collect a few bits. Do you like pain aux raisins?
TRB: I'm not that keen on raisins. Can I have a jam doughnut?
BOZ: (takes a sharp intake of breath) He's not going to like that.
BOZ: WHO? Moz of course.
TRB: Really? Are you telling me that he would seriously take a dislike to somebody, just because they don't like raisins?
BRACEWELL: He's shunned people for far less. If I were you son, I'd eat the pain au raisin and keep schtum.
BOZ: Anyway, jam doughnuts can't be good for you, I thought you had a dodgy ticker Rat? I'm sure that's the only reason Moz has invited you, he thinks you're about to peg it, and felt sorry for you.
TRB: I find out on Tuesday, I've got an angiogram, it will show if I've got furry arteries.
BRACEWELL: Well being a rat, you probably have. (Boorer and Bracewell laugh).
(Boz gets out and goes into Greggs. After collecting the pastries, he gets back in the car and drives a little further. They arrive at a set of electric gates, which open after about a thirty second delay. The car then drives up a gravel drive, that is about three quarters of a mile long, before it stops outside a large Tudor mansion.)
BOZ: Right, we're here. DON'T take off the blindfold, me and Mikey will guide you in.
(All three men get out of the car, and Boz and Bracewell help TRB to the front door. Boz presses a doorbell, but instead of a chime, 'Death' by Klaus Nomi sings out. After a few minutes, the door is opened by Solomon Walker, dressed in a mankini and holding an empty tray. Without saying anything, Boz tips his bag of pain au raisins onto the tray. Walker doesn't speak, but motions the three men to enter, and they follow him to the drawing room. Walker leaves with the tray of pastries.)
SOLOMON WALKER (PHOTOSHOP COURTESY OF MORRISSEYSWORLD LTD)
(Fifteen minutes later, Our Mozzer walks into the room and both Boz and Bracewell stand up. Moz looks towards TRB who is still blindfolded and remains seated. Moz stares at Boorer and Bracewell and motions his head in the direction of TRB. Boz and Bracewell immediately grab one arm each of TRB'S, and haul him to his feet.)
TRB: Can I remove the blindfold, I need to read my bit of paper?
BRACEWELL: Surely Rat, you MUST know what you're going to ask, as Morr-ee-say said, you've had thirty years preparing for this.
OUR MOZZER: It's ok Mikey, you can remove the scarf, but turn him around, I don't want him seeing who the real parody Moz is.
(Bracewell turns Rat's chair around and removes the blindfold. TRB takes a folded piece of paper out of the rear pocket of his jeans.)
TRB: (to Bracewell) Have you got a pen I could borrow please? I need to write down the answers.
OUR MOZZER: *tuts* Are you taking this seriously?
TRB: (goes to turn his head in the direction of Our Mozzer but is quickly stopped by Bracewell who grasps his head with both hands and points it back in the other direction, a bit like the hairdresser does when he/she wants you to move your head) Sorry, it's just that...
OUR MOZZER: (interrupting) Enough excuses. Boz, give the Rat a pen and let's get on with this. Mikey was right, this WASN'T a good idea. (Bracewell smirks and Boz hands TRB a pen that is on the coffee table next to a copy of the Daily Mail, which has had the back page crossword completed in child like handwriting).
TRB: (takes a deep breath) Right, the last time we had one of our intimate little chats like this, you chose to answer my question about the NME court case via True To You, which then subsequently disappeared. Did you get into trouble with your lawyers for posting it there?
OUR MOZZER: (Juts his jaw out and sighs) Is that your opening question, old son?
BRACEWELL: This is not the most interesting question Morr-ee-say has ever been asked...
TRB: (to Bracewell) You said...
OUR MOZZER:(interrupting)...It's a cunt of a question. Absolute shit. Might have been more apt had he been interviewing Phil Collins rather than a literary icon.
OUR MOZZER: (rolls his eyes and accidentally belches)
BOZ: Funny you should say that Moz, Mikey thinks Rat looks a bit like Phil Collins, but I thought more like Ray Reardon. What do you think?
OUR MOZZER: I think both Collins and Reardon would sue. Come on Rat, try again.
TRB:You have so far remained tight lipped on the whole NME affair. Why did you decide NOT to proceed with the case, and were you happy with the outcome?
OUR MOZZER: For fuck's sake. (turns to Boz Boorer) Just who IS this Rat character again? Is he one of my paid online numpties, or is he doing this just for fun?
BOZ: Unpaid, sir; TheRatsBack is your loyalest follower, sir - he's been blogging about MorrisseysWorld for 366 days now.
OUR MOZZER: Oh dear. What IS wrong with him?
BOZ: All we know about him is that he's a 63-year-old cricket fan living on the Isle of Wight and experiencing crushing central chest pains. He lives only for you and your blog and twitter, sir.
OUR MOZZER: Sad cunt. Doesn't sound like he'll be around much longer. He'd better not die on my premises, the last thing I need is a Barrymore incident. This REALLY wasn't a good idea, Boz, I should never have let you talk me into this. (Boz looks perplexed).
BRACEWELL: (looking enthusiastic) Could you perhaps proffer a few words of wisdom for Rat, to help him improve his interview technique Morr-ee-say?
OUR MOZZER: Give up..?
TRB: (takes GTN spray out of pocket and squirts it twice under his tongue) One thing you haven't been so tight lipped about is the Olympic games, saying you were unable to watch "due to the blistering jingoism". How did you feel seeing your friend Russell Brand perform, and yes I think that is the correct word in the circumstances, (smiles to himself) at the closing ceremony?
BRAND 'PERFORMS' THE 'MO-BOT' AT THE OLYMPICS, OR IS IT AN 'M' FOR MORRISSEYSWORLD?
OUR MOZZER: (eyes close slightly) Interesting. (licks his lips) Interesting- but not in the way you might have intended. Boz..! Boz..!
BOZ: Just here, sir-
OUR MOZZER: Boz, I bought you The Radio Times, TV Times and the Sun on a Sunday so you would be able to comb the Olympics for any references to me or my friends. And yet! I don't seem to recall seeing a DVD of Russell singing at the Closing Ceremony (scratches his head).
BOZ: (looks at the floor, puffs out his cheeks) Well, sir, I must have missed that one sir.
OUR MOZZER: I buy THREE TV guides and you STILL manage to miss a possible mention for an old has-been? What do I have to do? Buy you the sodding TV Quick? (puts his head in his hands) I'm NOT buying the sodding TV Quick..
BRACEWELL: Morr-ee-say has enough to do, Boz; what with saving the entire British pop scene single-handedly from ruin thanks to the likes of Joe McElderry and JLS; I'm afraid Morr-ee-say has FAR too much to do without having to pop over to Sainsbury's to pick up low-brow television guides, Boz.
BOZ: But you banned me from watching the Olympics , sir - and you made me wear that 'I hate the Olympics' shirt to your mam's house for Sunday vegetarian roast.
OUR MOZZER: I banned you from watching the bollocks. I didn't ban you from recording the relevant parts for me. (Boz shakes his head, closes his eyes and gazes up towards the ceiling).
BRACEWELL: There, there, Morr-ee-say. (he pats the seminal artiste's shoulders softly).
OUR MOZZER: What if Russell had mentioned a certain Manchester poet at the closing affair? What if he had been wearing a Years of Refuse, I mean Years of Refusal, t-shirt? Look, Boz, how am I supposed to keep the news on Morrissey-solo current if you can't even be trusted to email me the latest Morr-ee-say references from major cultural events, so that I can forward them to the so-low place under my array of online alter egos? The days of relying on Kewpie, Uncle Sweaty and THAT MAN to scour the news are gone; no, if I'm to maintain the misleading impression that there are STILL people out there who care two hoots about Old Mozzer, then I need the constituents parts of the old broken lawnmower to do their respective jobs competently, Boz.
BOZ: I'm sorry, Mozzer, I'll try harder, I promise I will. There was a mismatch between The Star and The Sun's TV guide, you see sir, and it threw me right off, it did, right off. At one point I almost had one of them panic attacks I used to get around the Maladusted era, sir, because I didn't know whether Tom Daley was more likely to dry himself on a Meat is Murder towel, or Wossy was more likely to be spotted in the crowd at the Equestrian events wearing a Kill Uncle-era tour t-shirt. Monitoring all 32 BBC channels around the clock wasn't easy, sir, but it won't happen in 2016 sir, Rio will be different.
OUR MOZZER: (closes his eyes) Is Rat still here?
TRB: Er, yes.
OUR MOZZER: Are you still alive?
TRB: (laughs nervously) Er, yes.
OUR MOZZER: Next question..!
TRB: (reads his piece of paper) Speaking of the Olympics, can you clear up the mystery surrounding the use of 'There Is A Light That Never Goes Out' in the opening ceremony? It was clearly listed in the programme.
OUR MOZZER: No (Bracewell smiles thinly. Boz Boorer motions to speak) Next.
TRB: Let's get on to three subjects that most of your fans are really interested in; records, book and tour. Firstly, you have recently hinted that you may be releasing your next album back on the Attack record label, is there any news yet?
BOZ: There isn't any news yet, but no news is good...
OUR MOZZER: (interrupting) What do you think you're doing Martin?
BOZ: I was chipping in, sir. I thought you had interview fatigue, sir.
BRACEWELL: Boz, when Morr-ee-say has interview fatigue, he will typically stick his tongue into his left cheek or use a word nobody had ever heard of.
OUR MOZZER: (nods and smirks)
BOZ: Sorry Mozzer.
OUR MOZZER: Do try to focus, Boz. You'll never become a competent interviewee if you don't try to learn the tricks of the trade. Yes, when I'm utterly bored with a particularly DREARY line of questioning, I'll typically stick my tongue into my left cheek (sticks his tongue into his left cheek) and if I'm desperate to leave I'll use a word nobody this side of Alan Bennett 's heard of, like Methionylglutaminylarginyltrosylglutamylserylleucylphenylalanylalanylglutaminylleucyllysylglutamylarginyllysylglutamylglycylalanylphenylalanylvalylprolyphenylalanylvalylthreonylleuccylanlyslmethioglysiophenmsylsvysglyprolmerosnyvllanythenmogrypolosposyglutaminylphyllanlyalanylthreolyginyylserine.
TRB: (to Bracewell) Shall I carry on?
BRACEWELL: Tricky. Give it a go and we'll see what happens.
TRB: (looks at his piece of paper) Your autobiography was earmarked for an end of 2012 release, and then you mentioned 2013, and NOW you are talking about 2015. What are your current thoughts with the book, and what do your publishers advise? (Our Mozzer rolls his eyes and gazes out of the window).
BRACEWELL: I thought that might happen. I think it's time to move on to the next question, Rat.
(Rat looks slightly rejected. Bracewell lifts his eyebrows and gives a nod of encouragement)
TRB: You are soon going to be embarking on a thirty five date US tour, are we likely to see you touring the UK next year?
OUR MOZZER: (to Boz) What do you mean there was a mismatch between The Star and The Sun's TV guides, I didn't buy you The Star.
BOZ: Er, no Moz, The Star was mine.
OUR MOZZER: Yes, I expect to play the odd date with the odd musician and the oddest singer in England. Bradford Leisure Centre, here we come. And now, if you don't mind, I am going to go and have a lie down. (Our Mozzer leaves the room).
To be continued.......possibly.
Written by Our Mozzer & TRB (But mainly TRB) - September 2012