N’Pits

“So Smiss, it is a good idea, no?” Juan Pablo was sitting across the desk from me, nodding quickly and smiling. I looked back at him and sighed. “A boy-band Juan? With me managing it? Explain it to me again.”

Eagerly, he passed over the newspaper clippings he had been clutching through our interview, pointing to the headline that read “Montoya mad, bad and dangerous”. I placed the paper flat on my desk and lowered my eyes to take in the story. I could see him leaning forward, grinning stupidly, trying to catch my eye. “Smiss, it came to me when I saw ziss article. I thought, when my driving is no longer so good, what can I do? I thought, I like the music, and ze fast cars, and I am crazy mad and bad – so it is obvious!”

I looked up at him. “But why a boy band?”

He made an exasperated face. “Every boy band must have a bad boy who punches the photographer and drives too fast. I am a natural! Ziss is my future career! Remember when that cameraman broke my head at Imola? And I wanted to smash him so bad? Lucky my girlfriend stopped me, or I would have…..”

His eyes lost their focus and he sat silently for a while, his jaw working. As the veins on his temples started to throb I brought him back to the present. “And?…” I prompted.

He shook his head slightly as he calmed. “Yes, Smiss, so you see I can start ze fights. And you know I can drive too fast like zat Westlife boy. Zo, he has a Ferrari, but I should have ze BMW. And I will have ze tattoo – I have a design already – and a name – Ze N’Pits….and I will grow ze goatee…”

I waited to see if there was anything else, but he just sat there, looking pleadingly at me.

“Okay Juan, I can see you’ve thought this out,” I said, “But you’ll need others in the group – do you have any ideas?”

Suddenly he was animated again. “Yes, yes, I have found out zere are strict rules for ze boy bands. One must have the floppy blond hair, for ze Mummies to like. Zis one must be a little girly-man. I think Jensen would be good.”

I was starting to like the idea. “Yes, go on,” I encouraged Juan. This was showing some planning, some insight that I had not seen before in him.

“Anozzer must be ze hip rapper one – I think Fisichella. He is pretty and has ze moves.” “And driving for Jordan, it means it will not be long before he is looking for a job,” I interrupted, getting more keen on the idea. “What about Kimi?”

Juan looked at me patiently, with a weary expression. “No Smiss, ze members must have at least a little personality……”

I smiled – what was I thinking? But Juan was forging ahead. “But we need one more – ze one who does nuzzing, the one zat everybody thinks why is he here, does his father own ze record company, did he buy his way in ‘ere?” he looked at me, shrugging his shoulders. “For zis one I need your help Smiss.”

Hmm, this would need some thought. Someone inconsequential, someone useless…. I started tossing out names.

“Villeneuve?”

“Anyone from Minardi?”

“Firman?”

Though most seemed to have what it took to be the nobody in our Formula One boy band, none of the names stood out as having that perfect blend of uselessness that would scream “how did this dud come to be here?”

Then, suddenly, both Juan and I seemed to have the same thought. We sat, looking at each other, smiling, knowing that we had found The One, but neither willing to say the name. Holding back my laughter, I broke the silence.

“Alex Yoong”

Juan rolled onto the floor, holding his sides, as my eyes blurred from tears of laughter and relief. Our boy band was complete.