Found this article in an old addition of Irish magizane Hotpress.... Funny Story about Freddie's Birthday cake...
10 Dec 1997
and promoter MALCOLM HARDEE discusses his hopes for the Laughter
Lounge, Dublin's spanking new 400-seater venue dedicated exclusively to
stand-up comedy, and tells BARRY GLENDENNING the epic tale of the night
he stole Freddie Mercury s birthday cake.
PICTURE THIS. Having endured the stultifying tedium of watching a
performing midget, a woman-snake double act and a Russian
contortionist, the three stunningly unattractive men who comprise The
Greatest Show On Legs a novelty act that performs naked with only
balloons for props have just been informed that their top-billing
status at the exclusive West End nightclub has been removed and that
their services will not, after all, be required at Freddie Mercury s
birthday party. Freddie
s manager, it seems, does not wish his client to be associated with
anything that could be construed as being even remotely gay.
Embittered, the trio decide to exact retribution by stealing the guest
of honour s birthday cake: a monstrous pink affair built in the shape
of a Rolls Royce.Within
minutes, the 12 foot long sugarfest has been loaded in the back of our
intrepid trio s Luton Transit. Unfortunately, there s a problem: the
cake s too big, so they re forced to drive through London with at least
48 inches ( approximately the length of a performing midget) of garish
confectionery protruding from the back of the van. They
take their fruity booty to Malcolm Hardee s flat, but there s another
problem: the cake won't fit up the stairs. Undeterred, they take it to
Martin Soan s house, where yet another difficulty is encountered: the
cake won t fit in the door. Undeterred, they take out a window and pass
the cake through, where it remains, undisturbed, for the night. Where better for Malcolm Hardee, one of the men responsible, to take up the story.
At half eight in the morning our agent s on the phone to me going mad
saying You ve stolen Freddie Mercury s birthday cake! , he recalls
matter-of-factly, ever the Sarf East London wide boy. I said I aven t!
, and told him I d seen some teenagers up near the club we d been in.
My agent says then that the cake was worth £4,000 and they've called
the police. So I m a bit worried because I ve got a bit of a past
(Hardee did seven years during the seventies for crimes which numbered,
among others, the theft of Conservative cabinet Minister Sir Peter
Walker s Rolls Royce B.G.) so I'm straight back round to Martin s house
saying They ve tumbled us, what are we going to do? . He said I know,
we ll give it to an old people s home . The first one we rang said they
d ave it, so we took out the window again, put the cake in the back of
the van, and then just as we were driving up the road the police passed
us on their way to Martin s house. Thankfully, they didn t see the end
of the cake sticking out of the back.
When we dropped off at the old folk's home, I went home to get a bit of
kip, and shortly afterwards the police came round to my house to
question me about the theft of the cake. They came in with magnifying
glasses and, I kid you not, searched my flat for crumbs. Needless to
say they didn t find any, and even though they knew we d taken it, they
could never nick us because all the evidence had been eaten by the
residents of the Ranyard Memorial Home.