Maggot and Me
In the crazy promotional hysteria that followed Celebrity Big Brother 2006, Keith Jeff elbowed his way onto Maggot’s telephone interview schedule and asked him some annoying questions.

Those possessing musical talent did rather well out of their time in ‘the house’ this year. Preston has become the latest darling of the celebrity gossip shelf, and Pete Burns-Victim despite his own protestations, hesitated little before recording a video to accompany his remixed one-hit-wonder. Even Kandyfloss can’t yet be written off.

Then there’s Maggot, who by his own admittance was; “Just [there] to make the numbers up.” The tallest member of Goldie Lookin’ Chain; he didn’t really stand out in the confines of the TV fish-bowl. In undertaking my usual canny research, I learn he’s a drug-addled, hyperviolent gangster-king of the criminal underworld.

This wretched rapper enrages me to the core; he stands for everything I find evil and vile (which incidentally are anagrams of each other). I book myself a four-thirty with The Maggot, intent on exposing the gangster behind the seemingly innocent rap. My scribbled questions have never looked so probing and the time-slot is perfect; it’s the end of the day, he’ll be tired, I’ll be sure to break him. I wait for the scheduled phone call with eager anticipation, secure in the knowledge that I have the moral high ground. At four-thirty exactly the phone rings. These gangland masterminds are always very reliable with their time-keeping.

Maggot: Hello Keith?
Me: Hello Maggot…

[Random pleasantries]
After all he is a pleasant chap, or so he would like you to think.

Me: You must be having a pretty busy time at the moment. You’ve been doing interviews all day, have you?
Maggot: Yeah, non-stop mate, non-stop, pretty much all day everyday.
Me: Which ones have you been doing by the way?
Maggot: Oh loads of them.
Me: You’re not going to name them?
Maggot: Er, no.

He’s holding his cards close to his chest; I realise that my mission may be tougher than expected, I have to think on my feet. I quickly decide to go undercover; I must hide my grievances for the moment and convince him that I’m ‘safe’, as they say in the GLC.

Me: Oh, okay, fair enough then. So then, first important question, how long did you have to wait before you had a spliff when you got out of ‘the house’?
Maggot: Oh, quite a long, long time actually, well in fact I haven’t had one yet.
Me: You haven’t?! Oh my god that’s terrible.
Maggot: Ain’t had the chance yet, no.
Me: The boys from ‘The Chain’ didn’t sort you out with one?
Maggot: Yeah, it’s a bit unfortunate; very tight security around that Big Brother house. You know you’ve got to be careful.
Me: Exactly how tight is the security? Did you receive a rigorous checking, or could you have ‘plugged’ something and got away with it?
Maggot: No, it was very rigorous, very rigorous indeed.
Me: Ah, that’ll be a good tip for future contestants going into the house.
Maggot: Yeah, there’s no chance of pulling that one off.
I’m almost one of his posse now, we are at one, I’m on his level. Now to start pushing some buttons.
Me: Ok, so what’s the most annoying question that you’ve been asked so far about the Big Brother experience?
Maggot: The one you’ve just asked.

Brilliant!

Me: What about, did you fancy Traci?
Maggot: No that’s cool - I don’t mind talking about that.
Me: Oh. Who was the safest person in ‘the house’?
Maggot: Safest person in the Big Brother house, it would be a bit of a tie to be honest, the safest people in the house would be Michael or Traci.
Me: Now I know you’re safe, but how dangerous are you? You’ve mentioned the TA and how you could do someone a fair bit of damage.
Maggot: I thought I said SAS, but it got construed into being that I was in the TA, I don’t know how that happened, there’s a big difference you know!
Me: I know.

I’ve exposed his lust for violence and his need for perception as the predatory alpha-male. Now I must tear away that mild-mannered exterior once and-for-all.

Me: I see you’ve got quite a passion for golf…
Maggot: Golf? Who told you that?
Me: Well you were on the cover of Golf Punk magazine.
Maggot: Oh yeah, I like to go hit balls every week mate.
Me: So what then attracts you to golf?
Maggot: Erm, I would say it was the clothes…
Me: The clothes are nice…
Maggot: The fresh air, the picturesque scenery, you know all the good stuff.
Me: It’s the perfect activity for the hip-hop vampire.
Maggot: Yeah of course.
Me: Why do they call you that?
Maggot: Oh that’s because I only come out after midnight, and I wear a cloak… and both of those things are not true so it doesn’t matter.

He’s scared, he’s denying it; I’ve got him on the run.
Now I’ll press him further on the drug matters, and go on to ridicule his gang culture. This is going great!

Me: Now, I notice on your website you’ve got a draw tolerance of eight. Having not had a spliff for weeks how do you think your tolerance has been affected?
Maggot: Oooh, it’s probably right down to one now.
Me: There’s a good chance that your skinning up speed has been affected as well.
Maggot: Oh yeah, that’s probably gone down into minus figures I’d say.
Me: I also see that that your official safe factor is ‘Safe as F**k’, but one of your mates in the band is only ‘Safe as…’ and another one is ‘F**kin’ Safe as F**k’. What’s the scale of safe for that, how does the progression work in safeness?
Maggot: Oh any order you like really, I didn’t write it, I dunno.

This isn’t going as planned.

Me: Mystikal has referred to you as Margot Fontayne, what’s that about?
Maggot: Yes, do you know Margot Fontayne?
Me: I can’t actually say that I’m familiar.
Maggot: Dame Margot Fontayne was a very popular ballet dancer back in the 1950s, she was very graceful and a big star.

He’s into Ballet!?! What kind of gangster is this?

Me: How many times have you been shot?
Maggot: None; and I don’t intend to either.
Me: How many times have you been nicked?
Maggot: None; and I don’t intend to either.

Hmm, where to go with this now? Either he’s a master of cunning and stealth who continues to evade my deft questioning, or he is just a bit soft.
I challenge him on his status in the band.

Me: OK, what did you reckon to that replacement Maggot that was running about while you were in the house?
Maggot: Yeah, he was alright wasn’t he, he got taken for a day out; he got on well with all the boys. I don’t want him to get on too well with the boys; you know I want to go back to the band.
Me: You’re feeling a bit of rivalry with him maybe?
Maggot: I think I’ll be alright.
Me: You’re feeling pretty safe about your situation… Are there any possibilities of you doing a solo record now?
Maggot: No probably not, we haven’t done one so far, so we don’t see any reason why we should do one now to be honest.

Right, so he’s soft and stupid is he? There’s not much ‘we’ in a solo record! Although saying that, it depends who’s record it is. Well anyway, I’ve prepared all these probing questions about his criminal life of criminality so I might as well use them even if the answers will be pathetic.

Me: Yeah, fair dos. I’ve just been looking through the lyrics of Goldie Lookin’ Chain’s ‘The Maggot’, now, is everything within this true?
Maggot: Of course it is!
Me: It is true?
Maggot: Of course!
Me: Okay, so how much money have you made from selling porn then?
Maggot: Erm, I reckon I’ve made a total of about fortyeight quid.
Me: Hmm, forty-eight quid that’s not bad. You went and spent that down at Elizabeth Duke did you?
Maggot: Oh, yes I did.
Me: Fantastic! Oh, The Big One Argos catalogue came out when you were in ‘the house’, they’ve got some real beauties in there, have you seen it yet?
Maggot: No, how much are they going for?
Me: Well some of it’s a bit pricey to be honest, this chunky piece of bling I’m looking at right now is going for £159.99 on page 1294, although there’s a cheaper one right next to it that says ‘DAD’ on it.
Maggot: Oh that does sound nice; I shall have to take a look at them.
Me: Yeah, now, I also see you’ve been stealing pensions.
Maggot: Yes!
Me: Have you got back into that since leaving ‘the house’?
Maggot: Oh, no need now see, ‘cos I get paid a lot of money.
Me: I see. The thing you’re bragging about in the next verse of ‘The Maggot’ is that you’ve made money from selling fake sperm.
Maggot: Yeah, I dunno where that came from. It certainly wasn’t mine. I don’t know about that; that is unsure actually.
Me: It would have been pretty difficult to produce you’re own sperm anyway, because according to this you sliced off your own penis and sold it as ham!
Maggot: Oh yes, I did do that as well.
Me: How much did you that sell for then?
Maggot: That was forty-eight quid again.

Incredible audacity! This man parades himself around as a crazed danger to society supposedly hiding beneath a kind and sensitive exterior, and it turns out to all be an act! The man is a fraud and a charlatan. What hope is there left for investigative reporting, when the finger of suspicion is sneakily distracted by double-bluffing, attention-seeking knitwear lovers?! Who is this multifaceted swindler with the faux reputation for depravity?

Me: On a different note, I’ve been noticing that a lot of people have been trying to suss out your real name. What is it?
Maggot: Not telling.

Damn he’s good.

Maggot: Yeah, bit of a mystery that isn’t it.
Me: You are quite a mysterious character aren’t you?
Maggot: Yeah.
Me: Deliberately so?
Maggot: Pretty much yes... No, no, no, it’s whatever innit. The information is out there, you’ve just got to find it.

At this point, we ended our fleeting telephonic interview.
Maggot has one more annoying chat this afternoon, and I have a new quest. I commit myself to a night of sleuthing on Friends Reunited.