When this article appeared in the Newcastle Herald over the weekend￼, our favourite trivia host, Josh (The Judge) Hewitt from Stagwiz fame wanted to stand up and claim his name back. So he shot off this letter to our inbox…
I hope this letter reaches you. When I first heard of your existence some years ago, I sent an ignored message to your recently deleted Facebook page musing about what would happen if we met in person. Would the universe collapse? Would time cease to be? Would you take photos of me without my knowledge and share them with ‘the big fellas’?
I’m joking, of course. I don’t think I’d warrant the attention because I’m not a “super fit pocket rocket”. But I’ve got your attention now, don’t I?
It was funny to begin with, knowing there was someone like you operating out of the Mayfield area who shared my name. Funnier still that I host a very popular charity trivia show at The Stag & Hunter Hotel in Mayfield every Tuesday. It’s called Stagwiz. It’s one of a kind and the best of it. I encourage you to drop by before it retires in October. You may learn something.
Anyway, the last few days I’ve been repeatedly reminded that sharing my name with you is no longer funny. The Newcastle Herald says you’ve been naughty. And it seems there are a few people in Newcastle who know what The Herald said, but have apparently jumped to the ludicrous conclusion that you and I are the same person – which is a steamier pile of horseshit than your stated intention to make your unwary guests “feel just as you should feel, special.”
But, the purpose of this letter is not entirely about the dignity you’ve stolen. That’s up to people who can take all of your money, and possibly your freedom. I’m writing because you have my name. It’s mine, and you’re fucking with it. Now, before A Current Affair mistakenly chase me into my home, I’m calling you out.
So, there’s a few ways we can do this. But, I’ll let you choose the way in which you’ll give up my name. That’s because I’m all about giving people choices. See? You’re learning from me already:
> Mario Kart 64 battle, but I play as Bowser. You play as Wario. Because he’s an impostor.
> We get oiled up and race on a Slip’n’Slide, but you have to oil me up to my inner thighs. “Tough gig lol”, right?
> Lip Sync battle, but you sing Radiohead’s ‘Creep’. And there’ll be a neon sign above you that says creep. And you’ll wear a shirt that says creep, but you’ll take it off to reveal the word creep scrawled on your hairless chest with lipstick. That way nobody will forget what you sang. I will sing TISM’s ‘Whatareya?’
> Surprise sword-fight, Highlander style. I’ll come over and when you try to close the door and dodge the consequences of your actions (again), I’ll throw you a sword and shout “Aye so you can wiggle yer prick to shitty R’n’B, but can ye swing a broadsword?!”, then you just mop up your own piss and we call it a day.
Now, whichever way you should choose to engage me in Mortal Kombat, I should warn you that I’ll be using hidden cameras to capture the entire spectacle. Not because “i shud lol”, but because you sound like you need a masterclass in courtesy more than you need recognition from the Australian Health Practitioner Regulation Agency or the Association of Massage Therapists.
I’ll give you some time. Meanwhile, come and see me at my show. It’s bigger than yours. Bless,
The Real Josh Hewitt