I used to be a famous actor after beating other auditionees for the Milkybar Kid roll, and with my training in the Army, I went on to help Ben Stiller shoot up the tropics, but it all came to an end after getting injured fighting aliens and monsters in the Sky. Fortunately, I received a lot of treatment and was fixed up by some new friends at Elastoplast.
I went on to get a Christmas job helping broken down cars with the RAC, and since then learnt to drive F1 for Lotus, but that's nothing compared to maneuvering a wrecking ball crane.
I went on a few great music breaks, where I met Muse, who offered me to join their resistance. With some make-up tips from Loreal I looked quite the part, despite being an hirsute gentleman in desperate need for a Figaro.
I tried to cross my fingers for England during the World Cup, but all the misery created an eating problem where at the Cadbury fate I consumed a thousand Creme Eggs. It proved to be too much, and now I'm restricted to a strict diet of Heinz baby food.
Although I did meet a lovely group of knitting nanna's and friend in an Octopus, who taught me how to believe in having the perfect break. After confessing all to the Skinny Cow, I had a face transplant and ended up looking like Madonna, it helped in my next job as an international spy
. It did mean me disposing of all my contacts to to a pair of giant Nicorette lips, and with some reliable intel from Thomsen Reuters, when it came down to taking on my nemesis with his cat, I was easily victorious, thanks to a little help some well-known women athletes from Nike
