We were rehearsing at Music City disguised as a band who can't play their songs anymore when we got a call, sorry THE call, from ARC, our "Record Company" saying that Mizz Magazine had made "Fear of Flying" their Single of the Fortnight and would we like to do some Roadshows around the country with Peter Andre and Sean Maguire?

Obviously we laughed scornfully and got right back to practising "War Pigs" because after all we are RUTH, purveyors of top quality rock music and have no time for those dismal pop puppets who jerk and flail to their so-called music in the junior schools and gay clubs of our talent starved nation.

Then ARC rang back saying that Mizz were expecting between one and two thousand punters at each show and we'd be allowed to sell things to them. We threw down our guitars and starting working on our choreography.

So it came to pass that a few weeks later we travelled up the M1 to Newcastle City Hall for our first ever roadshow experience. All we knew was that we had to meet someone called Marie-Claire, that we had to 'do' two songs and that we were shitting ourselves.

We arrived and there were girls everywhere. I mean, there are girls everywhere all the time but this was different. These weren't ordinary girls. These were Mizz girls.

We all sat in the van hiding for quite a long time which I admit is a fairly cowardly display for four grown men. But had you been there facing the prospect of hauling your drum-kit and guitars through a crowd of star-crazed young women all wondering who the hell you are and whether you're famous or not and therefore whether to take the piss out of you or beg for your autograph… well I think you might have pretended you needed to change your shoes a few times as well.

Eventually we were going to be late so we opened the doors and stepped out into the bright Newcastle afternoon. We picked up as much of the gear as we could manage and walked nervously towards the crowd at the stage door trying to look like roadies and not wannabe pop stars. Inevitably, one of us accidentally caught a girls eye and that was that -

"Who are you?" she asked.

"er, no one"

"What are you doing?" asked someone else

"We're…er …just carrying some stuff… for a friend."

We all nodded. That's what we were doing. The girls weren't convinced. They moved closer, surrounding, scrutinising. I started looking around for a means of escape. No way out. Panic began to rise, we pressed back against each other and inched carefully towards the stage door.

Then, all was lost. A voice rang out,

"It's that band RUTH"

There was a long moment of absolute silence. We ran for it.

Then, once we actually got inside we realised we had to go back out to get the rest of the stuff. And of course it was fine and it turned out that the girls were cool and not out to kill us. We even got into the swing of things enough to sign a few autographs.

The next few hours we spent trying to convince the stage manager that we really did want a drum kit on the stage not to mention our big yellow RUTH, and meeting our fellow performers. It was particularly sweet to meet Sean Maguire who had been so snide on the Video Galleon all those months ago and notice that I was both taller and clearer skinned than the jut-jawed ape boy. No offence mate. If that's possible.

Then, as if no time had passed at all we found ourselves in the wings with the sound of two thousand ladies ringing in our ears. We had to go out there and entertain them.

911 had just been on and they could do acrobatics and everything and we didn't even have a dance routine for God's sake.

The drum kit went on. The big yellow letters went on. The two tiny comperes shouted something about The Archers, and I was handed a mic. Everything went quiet and slow. Dreamily, I floated onto the stage and was engulfed in the huge girly roar that was to become so familiar.

The music started………………………..

Ten minutes later we had done our first Mizz Roadshow. Two months and 3 thousand miles later we had done the last. Apparently our special blend of incompetence, charm and running into each other on stage has endeared us and our music to a whole new segment of the nation and so now we can be allowed a hit record or something.

So there it is.

I conclude Mizz roadshows are bad for your health but, like so many things that are bad for your health, they are good for record sales. Good bye.