Matt Whistler imagines an Olympic farce

Somewhere in the middle of walking inbetween the two piers, accidentally sitting on my cling-film wrapped cake on the beach and passing Plato, I had a realisation for a sketch.

It’s the Olympic assassin who is being fiercely trained up for the 2012 Games, but is being hired to bump off various figure heads around the world with her amazing throwing abilities. She is being guided by an evil, dastardly man sat at a control desk, who monitors her throwing event and works out at which point she needs to let go of the javelin which then travels to the far reaches of the globe to spike the target. The command, “let go,” is a five-way operation between the control centre, a steward, a sports commentator and the man in the audience with a board saying, “let go”.

The problem is that the undercover operation is hampered when every throw is intercepted by another man in the audience who knows about this plan and observes the man with the “let go” placard to then hold up his “let go” placard and every time this happens the athlete/spy wins the contest. A cameraman documents the shenanigans and Chris Tarrant becomes an international spokesperson for fixing results via audience participation.