Never Forget

I was in MI6 for a while. An undercover operative. It was only for a few months one summer, but it's good to have it on your CV.

I used unorthodox methods. My main skill was dressing up as an elephant.

I'd enter a casino, or a armaments auction, or a luxury yacht, dressed as an elephant. I think people knew I was in the room, but they didn't mention me. I overheard lots of stuff.

It was hard work - really hot. You don't want to be in Nice, in the summer heat, all pachydermed up, trussed in a bowtie, lugging heavy tusks about the place. Not real ivory - I'm not an animal (though I was dressed as one).

They were heady days. Everyone had heads back then. I think the NME dubbed it 'the Summer of Heads'. All the stars had them: Andrea Corr, George Michael, Michael Heseltine, Heseltine McGregor, The Human Wasp. Not a headless one amongst them.

And I felt part of it. Even though my head was a poorly-constructed papier mache replica of an African elephant's head.

The spying didn't last long, though. They transferred me to Africa to infiltrate a group of elephant smugglers (not people who smuggled elephants - the elephants were doing the smuggling: mostly peanuts).

It was only when I got amongst them that I realised that an elephant in a room full of elephants isn't ignored. They tried to engage me in conversation. And I really only knew enough elephantese to rebuff potential mates (or encourage more attractive potential mates).

They found me out, discovered my wire. They called me a narc. (They had strong accents, so might have just been calling me Mark. Mark was my undercover name: Mark D. Baldmammoth).

As punishment, they ripped out my tusks. Luckily, they were only made of rolled-up newspapers, so didn't hurt too much.

I left MI6 in disgrace. I maintained they couldn't see the wood for the trees. They told me they had several agents surrounding us, dressed as trees, and they were experts on surveillance.

I went back home. By the time I was back at college, the head-craze had died down. It was all about necks. Which was unfortunate for me, as several of my upper-vertebrae had been compressed by excessive papier-mache-elephant-head wearing.