Mr Nat, the pompous and egocentric man about town, swaggers suggestively into what he calls his “study” but is in fact a shed in his back yard. He sees himself a sophisticate and is therefore wearing a smoking jacket, plus fours, spats and patent leather sandals. The tasteful odour of his manly aftershave wafts like a mild pea souper permeating the nostrils of innocent persons up to half a mile away.
He is followed by his lowly pupil Paul, a sad, pathetic figure who hero worships Mr Nat and has come to him for advice about how to meet and ingratiate oneself with members of the opposite sex.
Mr Nat has magnanimously agreed to assist the helpless halfwit and as he settles in his study filling his pipe with a good portion of shag, he ruminates on how he should approach the problem at hand.
Pupil Paul looks admiringly at his mentor and role model wondering if one day he could possibly be anything like this paragon he so respects. He sits quietly at the feet of Mr Nat like an obedient dog looking adoringly up at his master, waiting, excited and expectant, for the pearls of wisdom that are sure to fall from the lips of the great sage.
After smoking his pipe and knocking the ashes out on his pupils head, Mr Nat pauses dramatically and Paul can contain himself no longer.
“How do you do it? Come on Mr Nat what’s your secret?” He begs humbly.
Mr Nat surveys this wreck before him and arrogantly responds: “It’s like anything else you plonker, 22 percent perspiration, one per cent inspiration, 75% masturbation and, in my case, 100% good looks!”
The pupil looks up at him in awe, “Do you think you could give me some tips?” he eagerly asks.
Sucking on his pipe and shaking his head dismissively Mr Nat responds, “With a visage like yours dear boy it’s very difficult, but I’ll give it a try.”
Jumping up and down utterly thrilled Pupil gushes his thanks, “You would? Oh thank you Mr Nat!”
Mr Nat inspirationally: “First off you must change your name to..erm..let’s see..Yes that’s it – Anthony H. Steele.”
Puzzled Paul, “Why’s that?”
“It’s obvious my dim fellow. It’s romantic, resonant and appealing yet at the same time hard, erect and masculine – a little like me.” Spouts the master.
The pupil responds thoughtfully “Anthony H. Steele..yes.. I begin to see what you mean”
“By the way have you got a smoking jacket?” asks Mr Nat.
Eagerly Pupil Paul pulls out of his bag a horrendous bright orange jacket that he puts on and looks to Mr Nat for approval.
“Well, I suppose it will have to do,” says the maestro, “Next you need to alter your posture. Head forward, shoulders back, stomach slightly distended, buttocks protruding ever so temptingly, knees bent, toes slightly inverted.”
Pupil Paul adopts the pose and Mr Nat affirms: “Yes that’s perfect!”
“Now” says Mr Nat, “how to approach the desired object”
“The what?” asks Pupil Paul.
“The other sex you numbo! Remember that at all times you are chivalrous yet masterful, the hunter yet vulnerable; an action man looking for your Barbie to love, honour obey and… erm… shag!”
“Yes!” says Paul, “But what do I say?”
“What do you normally say” enquires Mr Nat.
“Something like: ‘get your kit off love I’m hung like a rampant stallion!’”
Mr Nat looks shocked and says condescendingly, “Not really on old thing is it? No that sort of approach is not recommended.” Here he pauses and thinks to himself “I don’t know though”, then he continues out loud, ”Try to be a bit more subtle, something like ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had a husband die recently?’ or perhaps a little more direct,’ Dharlink, are you sleeping with anyone – is it me?’ or some other sensitive remark.”
Paul says with some urgency, “And then?”
Mr Nat, equally excited, “And then you touch her and she touches you, you touch her and she touches you, you touch her and she touches you…”
“Yes, Yes!” ejaculates Pupil Paul urgently, “and what happens then?”
“Well there you have me old cock!” sighs Mr Nat, “I’ve usually been arrested far before then.”
“Oh!” says a now deflated Pupil Paul, “Oh well thanks Mr Nat.” he stands up and begins to leave muttering “I really must try that!”
Mr Nat responds contemplatively “Yes, so must I!”
Note, this story was originally a sketch performed at the Octagon Theatre in the 1990s.