entertainment

An open and candid evening with the Spice Girls

Ever since they burst into worldwide consciousness a mere two years ago, the Spice Girls have been the object of both love and loathing. Baby Spice (Emma Bunton), Scary Spice (Melanie Brown), Ginger Spice (Geri Halliwell), Sporty Spice (Melanie Chisholm) and Posh Spice (Victoria Adams): either you adore them or you abhor them. You can file me under the latter.

For months I have been attempting to arrange an interview with the Girls but they always pass me up for some other bloke. Last time they dismissed me for that old fart Kurt Loder from MTV. So when I heard that the Girls were going to be in London for a few days, I knew what I had to do: stalk them.

She ran after the man, screaming her bosoms out. She ran and ran until she stumbled on her 4-inch heels and fell head first into a gutter. After a four-day blackout, Geri awoke smelling of piss and bird droppings and miraculously began spouting Spice lyrics.

It was hard to follow a bunch of shallow and make-up oriented wannabes around. Their whimsical cravings had taken them from a West End neighbourhood convenience store (where Baby Spice shoplifted a pack of condoms) to a sleazy London S & M bar (that Mel B. frequents). Yes, it was physically taxing, but I followed them through it all, successfully. Secretly I was able to find out the next interview that they were doing. 24 hours later I was spending an open and candid evening with the Spice Girls, in the guise of famous American TV hostess Barbra Walters.

I arrived at the London Euston Plaza in a measly cab, fifteen minutes early. My wig was slightly falling off so the extra time was a blessing. I also had to fix my fake boobs and touch up my painted face a little bit.

The Girls welcomed me with their typical effervescent flirtatiousness. I felt like I was being initiated into a sorority. Kisses and hugs everywhere. A little grope here and there. Some tickling and a lot of laughter. Geri’s right breast accidentally popped out from her loose Prada shirt. More laughter. I decided to set the afternoon rolling before my dress popped open and blew my cover.

I sat next to Mel C. on the antique sofa. There were some white stains on it. I asked where they came from.

Ginger: Oh those? Some guy I picked up one night. (laughs)

Me: It is really true what they say about you, Ginger.

Ginger: Oh well…I try! (laughs)

Me: So… let me get this out right away. Is it true that Posh Spice is in fact a cardboard cutout?

Sporty: Didn’t you know? That’s why we don’t let her sing.

Baby: That’s why she wasn’t very successful as a prostitute. (laughs)

Me: Were you all prostitutes before you became the Spice Girls?

Scary: Barbra, what bloody kind of question is that? Of course we were! (laughs)

Me: As if there was any doubt ever. (turning to Baby Spice) Baby Spice… Being the youngest of
the group, you have naturally elected yourself as the center of attention. You act like a child, dress like a child. But we all know you’ve got breasts and menstruate regularly. Is it true that you have been confined to a mental institution as a child?

Baby: (giggles) What do you think?

Sporty: Her Mum put her in there because she was a little slow. She still is. She’s got some developmental shit going on in her head. That’s why we let her be Baby Spice. Babies aren’t supposed to be very smart.

Baby: (giggles) Hee hee… I am Baby Spice. (giggles)

Me: What about you, Sporty? Is it true that you are a lesbian?

Sporty: I have my preferences.

Me: So you are a lesbian.

Sporty: I didn’t say that!

Me: Okay, okay… Nobody needs to get hurt. Let’s move on… Ginger.. What were you thinking when you did that porn movie, Plug The Hole Mr. Plumber? That was absolutely terrible. You have done better ones.

Ginger: Well I was really going through lean times, ya know? And I was very young back then.

Me: Oh, so that must have been back in the late seventies.

Scary: Yeah, love. She’s a bloody prune! (laughs)

Ginger: Bugger off Black Girl!

Me: Is it true, Ginger, that you had undergone surgery to fix what whatever was sagging on your body?

Ginger: My, Barbra… What an extremely personal question!

Me: You don’t have to say yes. Just wink. They won’t hear it on tape.

Ginger: Oh, okay… (winks)

Me: Okay… Scary Spice.. You are the ugliest of the group. And there are some rumors about your notorious body odor. How do you respond?

Me: I don’t bloody care. Girl power! That’s what it’s all about! (throws her arms up in the air)

Me: (Covering my nose) Eventhough you smell like a horse.

Scary: Absolutely!

The Girls: (all raising their arms) Girl Power!

Me: Alright, enough already. So… if you were all to describe yourselves as trees, what tree would you be and why? Let’s begin with Posh. Posh…

Ginger: Uh, she can’t talk, remember? I’ll answer for her.. Ummm, I’ll be a… birch tree! Because it turns white and I like white.

Sporty: That’s not what Posh would have said.

Ginger: What then?

Sporty: She would have said something like… (distorts her face into a horrible pose). (laughs)

Baby: I would be a coconut tree, because coconuts are hard and have fleshy meat inside.

Scary: Me… probably a rubber tree. I kinda like it when they bleed, ya know, when you slice them up.

Sporty: Definitely a bonsai for me. I like little things. I have little breasts! (laughs)

Ginger: Hmmmm… I think I’ll be a birch tree.

Me: Al-righty… What a weird bunch of cheeseheads you are.

Sporty: What did you say?

Me: Oh, nothing… nothing.

Baby: Can I ask you something, Barbra? Why do you look and sound different in person? You are the farthest thing from the Barbra I watch on the telly.

Me: Well.. (clear my throat) I project a different aura off camera. I am just as uninhibited as you are.

Baby: Is that why you have hair on your arms and legs?

Me: Oh dear, I didn’t think you would be that smart. I mean, how could I have forgotten to shave? Thank you for pointing it out, love. Now, moving on with the questions… Lyrics. Who writes those godawful, I mean, great lyrics to your songs?

Ginger: Well, we usually ask Posh. But she never responds so we end up writing them ourselves.

Me: Oh really? Would you be able to come up with some lyrics right now?

Ginger: Ehh…

Scary: Come on, love. You’re the smart one here.

After a very long pause, Ginger finally comes up with something.

Ginger: Ehh… how about.. I’ve got a little puppy, zig ah zig aah, girl power, eh do you want to see my breasts, oops didn’t mean that last line! (laughs)

Me: Wow.. That is infinitely better than the one my ashtray came up with. I smell another hit.. Are you girls planning to go back into the studio soon?

Sporty: Oh, definitely. You should write that somewhere, Geri! You are so good and reliable with these things.

Ginger: Ehh… Thanks… (giggles)

Me: Ginger, not only are you the most sexual, you are also the most creative! How did you get this gift of songwriting? Were you born with it?

Baby: I’d like to answer that question, if I may. (smiles)

Ginger: Oh, awright! (giggles)

Baby: You see, when we were first starting to put together the first album, we hung out a lot at me Mum’s place. We would just sprawl in me bedroom, and spend hours thinking of the lyrics. It was really tough. Sporty and Scary bailed out after the third day. I started to raid me Mum’s fridge on the fourth day. But Ginger was the one who really sat through it. She just sat there in me Mum’s kitchen, stunned and mumbling, unable to move except when she summoned the strength to spring to action when the recycling man came to take away Victoria’s cardboard likeness.

She ran after the man, screaming her bosoms out. She ran and ran until she stumbled on her 4-inch heels and fell head first into a gutter. After a four-day blackout, Geri awoke smelling of piss and bird droppings and miraculously began spouting Spice lyrics.

It was she, history should take note, who came up with the immortal hooks from “If You Can’t Dance,” “Mama,” and “Love Thing.” But at that moment she was a lyricist without a band and had to go through yet another ordeal, that of finding the others.

Ginger: We just had to listen hard to find Scary Spice. She’d wandered into a travelling freak show and been hired as the barker. People were throwing money at her just to get her to shut up, but she was already exhausted of all the indignations she had to endure as just another tired piece of arse. Without even being asked, she gratefully rejoined the group and helped us find Sporty Spice.

Scary: Which turned out to be more bloody difficult than we had imagined. As “Katrina Highkick,” Sporty Spice was already earning a bundle as the featured cage performer at Meow Mix, a chic Manchester lesbian club. We had to drag her out of that club and take her with us to Virgin Records so that we can present our demo.

Sporty: And the rest is history.

Me: Indeed. That is one heck of a story.

Baby: Hey! I just noticed! Barbra, you forgot to bring your camera crew. Aren’t you supposed to air this on 60 Minutes?

Scary: It’s 20 Minutes, you silly twat!

Me: Oh yes, my camera crew. Oh dear, they must have been held back by the concierge. But, don’t worry! I have it all on audio!

Baby: Oh, okay! (giggles)

Me: I better get going. You girls need some rest. Scary Spice, you look absolutely hideous. What’s with the hair? Do you have lice?

Scary: Do I ever! (scratches her scalp)

Ginger: The twat’s got the bloody entire lice population of China! (laughs)

Scary: Shut up! At least I don’t have crabs.

Ginger: They’re not crabs! They’re pubic dandruff! Barbra, I got pubic dandruff, not crabs. Make sure that gets on record.

Me: Girls, girls… Calm down. Let me just ask one last question and then you can fight. Okay?… Alright… what color is the underwear you’re wearing right now? Sporty?…

Sporty: Navy blue with orange stripes.

Baby: Pink.

Scary: Military green.

Ginger: I’m not wearing anything.

Scary: That’s cuz you got crabs!

Ginger: Pubic dandruff! I said they’re pubic dandruff!

The girls started tearing and clawing at each other immediately after Posh was safely put aside right next to the fridge. I slid out right away and hailed the first cab I saw on the street.

Later that evening, the police found a disoriented and bleeding Barbra Walters walking aimlessly in a London alley, just blocks away from where the Spice Girls were staying.

Walters was unable to clearly describe her assailant, except that “he had a British accent.” No arrests have been made.

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