My name is Sir Michael Caine. (Don't forget the Sir.) Not a lot of people know that.
I like to pretend I'm a hard man. As I was in the movie Get Carter. Of course I'm 77 now and I can't mix it with the baddies like I used to. But I've still got all my marbles - well most of them, I fink.
And, yeah, alright, I did threaten to leave the UK and become a tax exile. But the voters should listen to me because I'm the salt of the earth, doncha know.
Anyway, this posh git (says his name is Dave) wants me to attend his announcement of a new national service scheme. Bit of a waste of time, if you ask me. The scheme is voluntary and it only lasts two months, which is hardly going to make any difference. But I'm doing nothing else and it offers some publicity, and maybe a seat in the House of Lords.
No, I don't remember The Muppet Christmas Carol. Or The Swarm.
1 comment:
Not fair! They should have given him a seat in the house of lords 40 years ago, just on the strength of Zulu.
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