Jacqui's Only Chance

Telephone conversation overheard in Max Clifford's office.

"Jacqui, love, I'm really busy right now. I'm getting the Peoples' Reality Princess a meeting with The Pope. No, it won't help her with the cancer, but it'll get a decent spread in Heat, and that's another few quid for her kids. And several thousand more for me, naturally. Anyway, enough of my little problems, what can I do for you? Oh, the bad press over your fiddled allowances? Well, it's not going to be easy, and it's not going to be cheap, I'm not a monkey and I don't work for peanuts! Still, you can probably afford me, the amount they say you've been stealing. OK? Let's say a £25,000 retainer to start with, and I'll need expenses, you'll know about expenses, Jacqui darling, won't you? Right! Now, what you have to do is get down the gym as fast as you like and get a couple of stone off, tone those abs, get your tits firmed up a bit, because they're your best bet. Then when you're ready give me a call, and I'll get you onto Celebrity Cunts In The Jungle. Believe me, Jacqui, it'll work. The public will learn to love you eating beetle shit and getting your tits out to give all the blokes a treat. Don't forget to send that cheque!"


The Penguin