AustLit

'Many years ago—back in the nineties—my agent rang me to say that a multimillionaire was throwing himself a birthday party and wanted me to perform at it. The party was to be held over a weekend on his private island and I was to be flown there in a private plane. It all sounded very intriguing and the fee was enormous. Apparently whoever it was had seen me on my ABC show and liked it; the only problem though was that I couldn't find out who the multimillionaire was until I agreed to do the gig and signed a confidentiality agree-ment. My agent wasn't being coy; she was dealing with an intermediary and that was the deal. Visions of being hunted for sport by the BRW Rich List or a Dr Moreau type turning me into some sort of animal flashed through my head and so I turned the offer down. The truth was I didn't have a stand-up act anyway and found the whole idea of performing in what was effectively someone's lounge room a bit demeaning. Still, I always wondered who this mystery fan was.' (Introduction)