Cops 'n' Robbers

Interview begun at 12.05pm by Jay Richardson. Present are Alfie Moore, 43, serving officer with Humberside Police, charged with successfully impersonating a comedian; and Gary Little, 47, from Glasgow, career stand-up formerly seen performing to an audience of one cellmate at Her Majesty's pleasure. Also present is Mrs Kay Moore, wearing the same ridiculous uniform as her husband.

Fest: So how do a copper and a convicted criminal break into stand-up?

Moore: I first went to a comedy club two years ago. There was a new act competition and I entered on the spot, bit of a midlife crisis really, but I finished runner-up and was hooked.

Little: I’d never been to a club either, but I’m the guy at a party you think is either really funny or an arsehole. A guy who ran a club said to me ‘I hear you’re funny’. He kept calling me and eventually I gave it a shot.

Fest: Do your backgrounds provoke a strong reaction?

Moore: Originally I didn’t tell audiences I was a cop. But then comics started telling me, "You’ve got to use it! There are loads of comedians out there, you’ve got to be different." I was dubious but audiences like it. I’ve played some rough pubs and had the compere announce I was a police officer because it’s part of my opening joke. I’ve had entire crowds booing as I walked to the mic, yet really hard, tattooed blokes coming up afterwards saying: "I’ve always hated coppers, but I like what you’re trying to do."

Little: I didn’t start in comedy to talk about jail, because although I’ve been inside before, it didn’t seem relevant. Having spent all this time away though, I felt I should take advantage. Obviously, I’m not saying every struggling comic should commit a crime but...

Fest: Even the worst experiences are potential material?

Little: Well, in my show I talk about depression and feeling suicidal. But it’s positive. A lot of people have told me they’ve suffered as well. It makes it easier to talk about if you’ve been laughing.

Moore: I’ve got my official police notebook and another one in my other pocket. Sometimes I’ll attend incidents and people think, "Ooh, he’s thorough." But it’s my comedy notebook and I’m thinking: "I’ve really got to get this down, it’s hilarious."

Fest: Do you ever censor yourself for legal reasons?

Moore: "Legal?!" Him?

Little: I don’t talk about specific cases, just incidents. As I say in my show, obviously there’s brutality. The police have still got that. But there’s also real irony. A guy coming into my cell, adamant that he "doesn’t need to go on a fucking anger management course!" And that he’ll get up on the roof before they make him!

Moore: [Laughs] It’s difficult. My superiors came to my show to see if I was bringing the force into disrepute. And I have to be self-policing, which isn’t always easy because I’ve got strong views on political correctness and a lack of personal responsibility in society. So it’s got to be edgy but appropriate. Often I’ll write material I love but I know it’s not right for a cop to say on stage.

Fest: But you might not be a police officer much longer?

Moore: Well, perhaps not after this interview.

Little: Seriously?

Moore: Well, it’s difficult because I’ll be walking away from a good pension and a solid career. But things are going well in comedy, so we’ll see.

Little: I suppose you’re the first, so you’ve got to take advantage.

Moore: It’s a massive hook.

Little: It’ll get you in more doors than me.

Moore: Well, you’ll get in through the window! I still love being a cop and the organisation has been very supportive.

Fest: How truthful are your routines?

Moore: It’s got to be funny. When I first wrote Laughter Police it was funny but it was an hour with no ...

Mrs Moore: Message.

Moore: Message, thanks. She’s the brains of the outfit.

Little: It’s a nice outfit. Are you a police officer?

Mrs Moore: No.

Little: So it’s just a uniform thing with you two?

Moore: No. So I wrote more meaningful bits. And I don’t alter much. I talk about a really painful hernia I received and would love to claim I got it foiling a bank raid. But I actually got it stopping an obese lady jumping off a railway bridge. There is grit in there though. My jaw’s been broken in two places, I’ve been stabbed, had my nose broken, my ribs cracked.

Little: I can laugh at that.

Fest: Although you've both followed quite, um, macho careers, there’s a gay flavour to both of your shows ...

Little: Well, obviously, my title, He Was Only Jail Gay, you’re not getting that anywhere else. These guys who’ve been in three months and suddenly decide to go with another guy! Three months!

Moore: It’s a long time! I’ve only been here a few minutes and you’re already looking better.

Little: I use it because it’s funny set against the machismo attitude of jail, all these tough guys.

Moore: I’ve a cottaging routine from the first station I was in. There was a public toilet where gay gentlemen met for sex and the public complained, so we had to make arrests. As the youngest officer, I was the bait. I’d wait in a cubicle and after a while a note would be shoved under with an obscene suggestion. So I’d send one back with: "You’re nicked!"

Fest: Can you see yourselves as a vaudevillian double-act?

Little: Wee bars between us on stage, like a version of Alas Smith and Jones?

Moore: Isn’t comedy great? People would assume we’re two stereotypes. I’m the serious cop ...

Little: ... and I’m the loveable rogue ...

Moore: ... and he’s the hardman from prison. Except we’ve known each other half an hour and I like him already.

Little: What’s not to like?

Moore: We could go for a couple of pints and have a laugh.

Little: Aye. ‘What started as an innocent interview quickly escalated into an incident yesterday...’

Gary Little: He Was Only Jail Gay, The Stand III & IV, 9.45pm till August 30 (not 17). £7 (£6).

Laughter Police, Dragonfly, 6.40pm till August 29. Free.