Good evening ladies and gentlemen!
Billy Wizz was mortally wounded, but there was no going back!
Onstage at the Walton Labour club, he was suffering a concerted attack!
Hen parties to the left of him! Well-oiled hecklers to the right!
Billy lost his nerve and his audience when he asked them for a light.
With trembling nerves and fingers he lit up a king size cigarette.
Then panic overtook him and his hands began to sweat.
Billy tried to start a sing-along, and invited them all to clap,
As the backing tape malfunctioned, somebody shouted ‘This is crap!’
He struggled to remember the punch line of his penultimate joke,
But his memory finally failed him as his career went up in smoke.
The Compere bounded onto the stage and attempted to rescue the night,
As Billy stood there helpless, his bloodless face turned ghostly white.
Appeals for applause went unheard, as Billy finally admitted defeat,
And walked off into oblivion to the sound of his Cuban-heeled feet!
‘Goodbye cruel show-biz world’ said Billy, realising that he was past it,
When they called out for last orders, followed by chicken in the basket!
Nowadays Billy tells anyone who will listen that he used to be a star,
As he collects the glasses in the Labour club, and serves behind the bar!
By Brian O'Connell