The budget for Deal Or No Deal is tiny by comparison: £98 quid a show!
I know! Crazy!
That wouldn't have even paid for Crinkley Bottom's custom made nappy in the 80s (my dealbreaker insistence that the studio be dominated by a gigantic comedy arse was, incidentally just a wheeze cooked up by me and DLT) The massive bum did make the salient point, however, that 'bottom' has many different meanings. Probably as many meanings as there are actual bottoms!
I need to say at this point, on a more serious note, that I want to lay to rest the various rumours about my own bottom which have hung maliciously in the air over the years. The fact is that the 'tail' seen swinging from my bottom in the tracking shots of me running around was categorically NOT part of a suffocating hamster stored in my poo hole. As me old mate DLT explained away at the time, it was merely the antennae of a radio transmitter used by the Floor Manager to tell me when to stop and start running.
I still laugh when I tell people this story, all these years later. And they laugh too. But only after I buy them 2 or 3 drinks each.
One final number I can reveal the meaning of: my viewing figures these days.
People are fucking morons!
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