Cooper Brown: He's Out There

'Victoria ran towards me... Chicks simply can't resist a sick, naked, barf-covered bald dude'
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The Independent Online

So, I'm lying in the corridor outside the Cooperdome, naked, covered in my own barf and locked out. My fiance, Victoria who left me a month ago after catching me humping the Ukrainian nanny is three minutes away having rung up for a reconciliation... Ho-hum, such is an average day in Cooperville.

I could see Victoria coming down the corridor out of my slightly opened eyes. She was holding Humboldt-Fog, my beloved son, in her arms. As usual she had two huge expensive designer shopping bags hanging in the grooves that years of this kind of shopping had cut into her arms. There's a price to pay for separation and it's called retail therapy. Rather alarmingly she dropped both the bags and our son when she spotted me on the floor. She ran towards me chicks just can't resist a sick, naked, barf-covered bald dude.

"Coopy, what happened to you, are you OK?" H-F was screaming and crawling towards us. My neighbor peered out of her door. It was total chaos. They should definitely make a sitcom out of me...

I pretended to come out of a state of some unconsciousness. "Uurrrggghh, where, where... am I...? Tory!!!! God, I missed you baby, where am I? Why am I naked? You look beautiful like some gorgeous angel. Your boobs have grown..." (I should have been given an Emmy for this shit.)

"Coopy, you're ill baby, you've locked yourself out and we're here to look after you." She was nearly weeping and I could see that good old British guilt thing kicking in. She was thinking that she should never have left me. She likes to be needed and here I was in total need. Suddenly, out of nowhere, H-F bit my ear with peculiar force. I screamed as blood spurted out everywhere. You can fool a chick, but you can't fool this little guy I was actually pretty proud of him as I tried to stem the impressive bleeding. My little dude can spot BS at a hundred yards and he wanted me to know it. Thank God he can't speak yet.

Victoria still had a key to the Cooperdome so we were soon inside and she cleaned me up, put me in bed and, while H-F slept, came on like an Argentinian whore. We boned like it was the first time all over again. I must remember to be sick more often. Goddam, I love reunions they're almost worth the break-ups.

That night I had a miraculous recovery. Harriet came round (unbelievable that she managed to locate the place) and Victoria and I went out to The Ivy and then to the Groucho Club. We had a brilliant evening. We got royally drunk on Cosmopolitans and Opus One. I bumped into Lily Allen, who is pregnant (not by me, sadly) and hung with her, her curious dweeb boyfriend and two guys from Coldplay.

Victoria saw Trinny, who clearly disapproves of our reunion. To Victoria's credit, she stood up for herself and told the mad witch where to go. I think they've had some disagreement business-wise and that can only be good news for me as she creeps me out.

All in all, things were pretty peachy until Victoria suddenly lays the big one on me. "So we're all going to go to Ma and Pa for Christmas. Hugo and Harriet are going and they both have new other halves so it should be great fun."

In my eyes, Christmas with the Himmlers is even worse than an evening with Johann Hari round at Yasmin Alibhai-Brown's place, but it was too early in our reconciled engagement to put up a decent defence, so I played ball.

"Brilliant, that will be great, honey. All the family together again round the old Christmas tree, just like we should be..." Victoria gave me a weird look. She's not quite as dumb as I often think she is. I had to tread carefully for a while.

Two days later we're in the Quattroporte and speeding down towards Wiltshire. I've got 50 Cent pumping on the stereo and my family are with me all is good in the world. Then we turn up the Himmler drive and Mr Himmler is standing right in the middle of it blocking the way. I stop the Quattroporte and glide the window down. I'm about to say "hello Pops" when he starts screaming.

"What the fucking FUCK is HE doing here? I told Diana [Mrs Himmler] that he was NOT welcome, I will NOT have him staying in OUR house. He is a philandering male PROSTITUTE and will not share my CHRISTMAS table..." He was totally ignoring me and talking direct to Victoria. I guessed that news of our reunion hadn't been received that well down here.

Mrs Himmler then staggered down the drive drunk as a skunk and started in on Mr Himmler. I gave up, dropped off Victoria and H-F and checked into The Bell in the village. This was not going to be my best Christmas. Negotiations ensued and it was agreed that I could attend the family lunch as long as I didn't attempt to address Mr Himmler and left straight afterwards. I needn't have worried, though. It turned out that Hugo's new "girlfriend" was from Estonia and clearly charged by the hour. Mr Himmler had no idea and was entranced by her, even disappearing with her after the turkey to "show you my wine cellar, my dear". Hugo wasn't too concerned as he was pretty heavily sedated.

Harriet's boyfriend turned out to be OK one of those thick estate agents called Toby who has made more money than any of us. Humboldt-Fog was happy though. I got Maserati to make him a fully working scale model of the Quattroporte so he zoomed around the place being pushed by yours truly until he hit his head on a bannister. Here's hoping 2008 brings me the global success I deserve. Cooper Out.



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