We used to go to a thing called Louis Two Sods, not Madam Two Sods.

Apparently it was her like, no, I'm genuine.

It was right by the central pier.

Louis Toysauds.

People will back me up on this.

It used to be Louis to Swords House of Wax.

And apparently he's like Madam Two Swords cousin.

Really distant.

Yeah, it moved to Blackpool.

And they had some of the worst waxworks I've ever seen in there.

Noble souls, Tuzai, Mel Gerdroyd, guardian of the Great Beyond.

No, well, not God exactly.

More like the hall monitor, the janitor for the afterlife.

For this is the podcast where beloved stars have taken their final bow, only to pop in here

for one last encore.

Welcome to...

Yes, indeed. Yes're towa-wa-wa-to-wa-to-wa-to-a-wa-to-a-to-a-to-a-to-a-to-a-a. Each week, a newly departed celebrity stumbles into podcast purgatory to declare their final demands. Whether that's banning flat pints at the wake or insisting the eulogy is read by somebody who will later receive a juicy

payment. It's happened. And today's guest is a comic, who I love. They don't just tell jokes.

She sprints at them, tackles them, smashes them into the back of the bloody net. She's living

proof that everyday disasters can be turned into comedy gold and that a haircut can cause more headlines than a royal wedding.

I'm really giving her a very, very, very big intro.

Funereal folk, please welcome a damn fine comedian.

...