DOGROY interviews comedian Vittorio Leonardi

Shplain who y'are

I'm a comedian born in South Africa to Italian parents—people who arrived in South Africa in the 1970s moved to the central, semi-desert part and stayed because it reminded them of Italy after the war.

What brings ya to these here parts?

My wife said we're going and so we're here. Everything is a little bit hazy after that.

What's yer greatest crime?

I once “liberated” a power boat and took it for a spin, because I thought that by keeping it moored, it wasn’t living up to its full potential.

What's yer weapon of choice?

A katana… because nothing says, “Go away, or be eaten!” like an aggressive butter knife.

What's the most powerfulest thing ya've ever done?

Resisting the urge to throw a line manager through a plate glass window when every expression, mood swing, and nuance they had seemed to be a cry for freedom by defenestration.

What is your favourite poo?

The No-Wipe Transcendental Dump. The kind that leaves no residue post wipe and that flushes itself upon its exit, thus making you question whether anything happened at all.

What's yer fayvorit bayst te ryde or get ryd by?

Anywhere and with anyone that doesn't press charges.

If ya were the High King o' the Land, what would ya be at?

In an elevated position with a high-powered sniper rifle, gleefully and mercilessly shooting any twat that rides an electric powered scooter.

What's the most spine-tingling thing ya've ever seen?

I once heard a man butcher the lyrics for Sunday Bloody Sunday so badly that it stunned an entire room full of bikers into silence. For though they were mean and hairy, they could not tell this bastion of stupid that the words were not Someday Baby Someday.

Attack: A scorched earth policy.

Defence: The disarming innocence of an immigrant.

Power: Hugs that render women weak at the knees, and a grip that leaves others begging for mercy.

Fear: The looming fear that when the lights are out, what hides under my bed is not only unafraid of my frequent masturbation, but is turned on by it and wants to join in.

Smell: The scent of freshly mowed pedestrians.

Dreams: I want to play a 5000-seater auditorium, preferably with a paying audience of 5000 people in it. But I would settle for watching my ex be torn apart by rabid wolverines.

What d'ya think o' me mother?

A saintlier woman has never been born, for without her we would not have Dogroy.

Length of willy or husband's willy:

7 inches… whether it’s length or width, I shan’t say.

How d'ya expect te die?

Struck down by one of those idiots on scooters, because as we all know, idiots never die for the devil doesn’t want them and bad turds don’t flush.

Favourite shape (No 3D ones please):

The convexity and concavity of shapely woman’s caboose.

Dogroy’s questions had to be transcribed for him by his mother because he is retarded.