I’m assured this story is true. I’ve removed the name of the artist, though, as it’s perhaps too good to be true. (And, in these Madoff times, we should all be extra-wary of that which might be too good to be true.)
A pop star, a very major pop star is onstage at a very major venue. It is between songs. There is silence in the giant hall. The crowd wait for the pop star’s words of wisdom. Instead, the pop star farts. The fart is picked up by the mike and sent round the hall at full volume, in the kind of perfect balance that only a very major pop star’s sound engineer can manage.
At the end of the show, the pop star leaves the stage. The pop star’s manager is standing in the wings. Says the pop star to the manager: ‘Why the hell didn’t you stop me doing that?’