Oscar heads online on a wink and a praire

First Peter Mac reveals he’s stepping down as the voice of breakfast radio on Channel 103 FM. Then it is announced that Oscar Puffin, stalwart of Channel Television’s Puffin’s Pla(i)ce, is being pulled off the air and placed online.

Despite his refusal to speak to the national media, I managed to get an exclusive interview with the famous bird. (We go way back. I once saved him from a gang of Icelandic hunters who came to the Island to kill him in the 90s) Oscar was 45 minutes late for the interview, which took place at a hotel in St Helier. His agent, a harassed young woman with straggly hair and cracked fingernails, apologised profusely and made several increasingly agitated phone calls to her tardy client, each time returning to tell me that he was ‘on his way’. Eventually, he bursts through the door, dishevelled and red-eyed, his feathers giving off a slightly stale whiff of smoke, cheap perfume and alcohol.

Oscar:

Sorry, sorry, sorry. Late night. Those cameramen are animals.

JEP:

No problem. It must have been a busy week for you, what with the, er, news about the show.

(A waitress approaches and asks us if we want anything to eat or drink)

Oscar:

Coffee. Black.

Waitress:

(Giggles) No fish?

(Oscar swivels his head and stares at her angrily until her cheeks turn red and she walks out)

Oscar:

Unbelievable, It’s been 50 years and all I ever get is jokes about sodding fish. Fish this, fish that – I mean, I like steak, too, you know. But all I get is fish, fish, blooming fish. (Pause) Sorry, shall we start?

JEP:

Of course. So, Oscar, you’ve been back in the news this week with the announcement that Channel Television are moving your show online. There’s been a bit of a backlash from fans. What do you make of it all?

Oscar:

Well, I’ve had a good run on Puffin’s Pla(i)ce but everything has to come to an end. The way I see it – I lasted much longer than some of the bloated flapmouths that have come and gone while I’ve been around. If the bosses really think that taking me of air, a seasoned veteran with more talent in one wing than all of those grinning chumps that don’t know the difference between Bergerac and Belcroute, then that’s fine. I’m absolutely fine about it. It’s fine.

JEP:

But Oscar –

Oscar:

It’s FINE!

JEP:

I know, you said that already. But what do you say to the 900-odd people who have joined the Facebook group calling for you to be reinstated on television?

Oscar:

Wow, 900? Really? Well, that should make them sit up and take notice. Oh, yes, that’ll rattle their cages, the bunch of pompous – er, I mean, it was obviously a decision they didn’t take lightly and I greatly respect their plans for the future and I’m looking forward to this new venture. I’m sure the online programme will be just as successful as Puffin’s Pla(i)ce, which, let’s not forget, was very successful. Almost too successful to cancel, one would think. In fact, in 1976 it was described as the lynchpin of the show by none other than Russ Abbot.

JEP:

Yes, you’ve had a great career, Oscar. But how did you manage to stay at the top of your game for so long?

Oscar:

Well, I still am at the top of my game. Just because I’ve been dumped – I mean, reassigned – to an online slot rather than primetime doesn’t mean my feathers have lost their fluff. It’s been a tough 50 years, though. Jersey is a small place to be such a big celebrity. Just ask Peter Mac. At one point he was getting so many pairs of knickers in the post that he had to have an extra-large letterbox fitted.

I won’t lie, though – the fame went to my head in the early years.

It was a bad time. I was just a young puffin, barely out of the nest, and suddenly I was brushing shoulders with John Nettles, Graeme Le Saux, Mitch Couriard. Fishing companies were sending me buckets of trout just so I’d mention them on air. The Lieutenant Governor was begging me to go to his birthday party – I was in demand.

But my work suffered. I was reading out birthdays without checking the names, winking in public at people I didn’t even know, eating caviar and smoked salmon for breakfast – it was a crazy time.

(The waitress returns with our drinks and nervously places Oscar’s coffee in front of him.)

Oscar:

Sorry about being rude earlier. It’s been a long week for me. How would you like a special wink?

Waitress:

No thanks. I think I’m a bit too old for that.

(After a slightly embarrassed silence she leaves the room)

Oscar:

Too old? How old do you think she is? 18? 19? You’re never too old for Oscar Puffin. Ridiculous!

JEP:

Yes, ridiculous. But are you not worried that you might fall out of the public eye if you’re not on television?

Oscar:

(Sighs) Look mate, I’ve got it all. I live in a penthouse nest on the cliffs and take my morning dump on those peasants at Portelet. I dine on quail’s eggs, ormers and lobster. I’ve got more cash stuffed away in a trust fund than I know what to do with. I haven’t had to use my wings in 17 years because I’ve got a limousine that is driven by a former Channel Television presenter who fell on hard times.

Even if this is the end of me, I’m not going to be moping around and feeling sorry for myself. I’ve had 50 years doing the best job in the world. There were a few low points – that time I crashed the Channel helicopter, those persistent rumours that I bit Miss Battle in 1987, and the terrifying day when I was shot by that buffoon Guy de Faye – but I’ve come through it with every feather intact and still the people love me. I may now be on the interweb, or whatever it’s called, but the day that Jersey doesn’t need a puffin to dish out birthday wishes to the children of the Island is a day that will never come.

(Oscar’s agent interrupts us to tell us that his car is waiting)

Oscar:

Right. Let’s roll. I promised the Bailiff I’d make an appearance at his granddaughter’s recital.

JEP:

Have you got any final words for your fans?

Oscar:

So long, and thanks for all the fish.