Strange Encounters - When Cowell Met Bean

As a cyclist, I spend hours on end alone with my thoughts daily. My mind wanders into the deepest realms of thought in an attempt to block out the wind that batters my face. Everybody has their own ways to keep themselves occupied on lonely four hour training spins in the barren bóthairíns of rural Ireland. I personally let my mind take over, only breaking the ongoing train of thought to make a turn, or if a lorry barrels up behind me and scares me more than a dog on Halloween. It will also serve the purpose of diversifying this blog from total cycling. The latest thought that my brain has conjured up and has been simmering in my skull with the past while is this: What would the X-FACTOR be like, if Mr. Bean auditioned? 

Bean left his small flat in London and pulled out onto the road, heading towards the famous O2 Arena, but not before cutting off his arch-nemesis, the blue Reliant Robin, although he was completely oblivious to the fact. He signed his name on the audition list. His signature was more like a squiggle with a badly drawn 'B' being the dominant letter. He mumbled something to the man behind the audition sheet desk, sounding like a 'thank you' but at the same time being completely indecipherable. 

Inside the arena the capacity audience was beside itself, all hoping that this time they would see the revelation of the day, a true favourite for the competition. Simon Cowell and his crew have just given an unarguable 'No' to the last twelve hopefuls as they battled their way through everything from Dolly Parton to 80s Power Ballads. Louis Walsh has already exhausted his resources of '__________!The crowd loved you!' or '___________ you're a natural born-performer.' 

Bean is currently backstage, with 'The Countdown Man', who gives the auditions the final countdown until they walk out on stage. He hands Bean the microphone and he starts giggling uncontrollably with joy and excitement. His laugh is infectious and sounds like he's choking on a bag of "C's." He mimes as if he were to sing into the microphone, playing with 'The Countdown Man'. He holds the mic up and steadily brings his head nearer to it, shaking it as he does it, and softly grunting in his trademark miming style. 

After 'The Countdown Man' has humoured this child stuck in a man's body, he counts him down from three and escorts him to the stage. He walks on as of his shoelaces were tied together, taking very short steps all the while looking up and around him at the bright multicoloured lights and the multi-thousand crowd in the stands. Hie eyes then fix on the four people who possess the power to send him to stardom. Their eyes reciprocate and fix back on him, as he is the first audition ever in the many years that the show has been running to carry a bag onstage with him. He slowly and inquisitively approaches the big red 'X' on the stage floor. He stares at it until it is directly underneath him and places his feet the same distance apart from the centre of the 'X', just as a child would. 

Simon begins to speak, 'Hello what's your na...'. Bean holds up a finger and turns his head away to his mysterious bag. From which he produces a small, three-legged stool and places it, with a pat, over the 'X'. He then turns away again and produces his faithful teddy and his own personal stool too. Once again he turns away to his bag and out comes a large 'Sony' radio/CD player. He unrolls the black plug and outstretches it to its limit. It's no where near long enough to reach the backstage plug. Bean is stumped, he sticks his index finger into his front tooth and stares into space, deep in thought. An epiphanic moment occurs when he realises that the extension lead he has in his 'Mary Poppins' bag might just extend the plug. He goes backstage, unplugs the first plug he sees and in goes his home-brought plug. The whole stage descends in darkness, he has unplugged the stage lighting. Stumped once again he tries, tries, tries again as pandemonium ensues throughout the arena until finally he finds a plug which seemingly does nothing. 

 - You may be thinking that the producers of 'X FACTOR' would never let an audition mess around with their plugs, but the crowd are loving this man's antics and they don't even know his name. He's already a star and he hasn't uttered a note - 

He plugs the lead into the socket, and walks, bent over with the cable reel inches above the ground as he gets ever closer to the CD player plug. All the while this is happening the judges emotions are a cocktail of laughter and shock, they have never seen an audition as haphazard ever before, and the crowd are loving it too. Finally he is ready. He sits on his three-prong stool and crosses his left leg over his right. His left tweed-pant trouser leg lifts up to reveal a white ankle and a black sock that elastic has forgotten. Simon Cowell now speaks - 'Hello, what's your name?' He replies 'Bean..', as if someone was pinching his Adam's Apple and as if his cheeks were duct-taped to the back of his head. 'And where are you from?' Bean gestures with his right hand in a circular motion, mumbling and grunting softly at the same time, as if to say 'Here'. 'And are you going to sing for us today?' He nods his head and laughs uncontrollably *hoch*och*och*och*och*. He wishes him luck and although his face shows no emotion (probably because of botox) inside he's dancing. He knows that money will be made regardless of if this 'Bean' chap goes through or not. Bean bends down and presses play on his 'Sony' CD player. It rustled into life with ABBA's famous "Does Your Mother Know' track, Bean bursts into a half-dance, keeping his upper arms rigid but leaving his lowers loose. The flail about uncontrollably and he jumps and wiggles his way around on the spot. He opens his mouth to sing the opening line 'You're so hot, teasing me...' but the words just won't come out. Eminem wrote about this sort of thing. He looks to the stage hand and taps furiously at his throat, as if he were choking. He finally realises that it's his microphone that has let him down and then taps that furiously, giving his throat a rest. He then resorts to banging it off his hand and even using it like a hammer on the stage floor. He's now panicking and slips off his shoe and starts beating the microphone with it. Amidst the rapturous laughter of the audience all that can be heard is the faint tapping of leather sole on a microphone. He then runs to his teddy, and rips his miniature microphone from his clutches and attempts to use that instead. Still nothing. Simon has finally had enough and calls it a day for Bean. Bean hears that Simon's microphone works and chicken-runs it down the stage steps to Simon's microphone and jumps towards it, completely misses it. All that is heard is an ABBA/Bean doppler effect - "Does Your Mother Know  That You're Out?"  Bean's crashing to the ground is muffled by the standing ovation and applause of the crowd, he gets up and fixes his clothes that are now all twisted and wrinkled. He pulls up the sock that elastic forgot and clambers his way up the stage steps and makes his way again over to the large 'X' at centre stage. He rarely speaks, although in this case he doesn't need to. His eyes say more than is necessary in these circumstances. They seem to say 'Well?' 

Unfortunately it's four "No's" for Mr. Bean, mainly because it is in fact a singing competition and Bean sang very little over the course of his long audition, apart from his big finale. But Britain's Got Talent is always another option for Bean, but that's another blog.

(And Rowan, if you're reading this, please go audition at once)

Seán.