Rick Wakeman rails against travel insurance in this month's Caped Crusade

Rick Wakeman
(Image credit: Kevin February)

Rodney Rectum-Rocker hadn’t been in great health recently so it was with great trepidation that he waited for the results of his medical. The frontman and only surviving member of 70s rock band Terrapin’s Testicles, was hoping he would be fit enough to get travel insurance for his upcoming 97-day club tour of small towns across the USA. Despite being only 67, pre-existing medical conditions meant he could easily pass for a man of 93.

This tour would be an important one. All the original members were dead and the band’s popularity was not what it had been. Once the ’Testicles had commanded pretty big audiences but in recent years, along with various body parts, their fans had dropped off and Rodney was broke. He was about to declare bankruptcy when the offer of an American club tour came in. The frontman jumped at it but there was a proviso: the 67-year-old had to pass a medical.

His name flashed up on the screen at Dr Dungfunnel’s surgery and he nervously followed the signs to the consulting room.

“Have a seat, Mr Rectum-Rocker,” said the doc.

Rodney shuffled his way over to an orange plastic chair and looked worried as Dr Dungfunnel squinted at his computer screen.

“I have all your results here, and there are a few things that concern me…”

Rodney felt the tour dissolve beneath his feet.

“Let’s look at your organ functions first. Your heart is worn out, and your liver and kidneys are shot to pieces. You’ve got emphysema, your blood pressure is through the roof and you have elevated glucose levels. I can also see that you suffer from both rheumatism and arthritis, and these tests indicate that your bones are also quite brittle too.”

Rodney let out a long sigh; this was surely the end of Terrapin’s Testicles and his rockstar life.

“But on a more positive note,” the doctor continued, “your bowels are perfectly fine, if not a little overactive, and Nurse Slapper tells me, you have absolutely no signs of erectile dysfunction…”

Rodney scratched his stubble. “So have I failed the medical?”

“Good Lord, not at all!” said Dr Dungfunnel leaning back in his chair. “I’ve taken what you do for a living into account and compared to most musicians, you’re in excellent health! I’ve let the insurance company know that you’re not a medical liability.”

“That’s great news!” Rodney beamed, but Dr Dungfunnel gestured to him to sit back down again. He added in far too jovial tones.

“There is just one small thing, Mr Rectum-Rocker. Nurse Slapper has a rather nasty-looking rash at the moment, so you might want to nip into our Sexual Health Clinic on your way out… Have a nice tour!”

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