Speech by Robert Ennis

Speech Type: Best man
Speech Creator: Robert Ennis
Speech Date: May 2009
Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rob – I'm the best man and it's my honour and pleasure to give the best man's speech.
What can you say about a man who came from humble beginnings a man who is now quickly rising to the very top of his profession based solely on intelligence, grit and the willpower to succeed where others have fallen?
But enough about me, what I'm really here for this evening is to talk about Dan.
So I guess we should start with how I know Dan. Dan and I met at school. Dartford Grammar School, to be precise. How either of us got into a Grammar school in the first place is a mystery, and something our teachers continued to ponder until we left. And why one of us broke into the school one evening is an open line of Police enquiry to this day. But, I digress…
I didn't know Dan until just before we started the 6th form. At this time, Dan was about a foot taller than anyone in the school, sported a rather fine example of the then ubiquitous ”curtains” haircut and had a voice with sufficient bass to make Barry White feel emasculated.
So when I was put into a team with Dan for a school project, I remember thinking to myself: &quotWho is this baritone, lanky streak of piss?&quot
The answer came when we tackled our first assignment. We were tasked with managing the fortunes of a fictitious chocolate bar manufacturing company. Our first challenge was to devise a strategy to increase profits. Our team discussed ideas under the watchful gaze of one of our teachers. Most of us were eager to impress. Dan seemed eager to leave. After contributing precisely nothing for about half an hour, Dan finally spoke. “I think we should fire half our employees cut the salaries of everyone who's left and burn down a few factories to claim on insurance.”
It was like Alan Sugar had suddenly entered the room.
“How would you decide who to make redundant?” our teacher asked, after pausing to digest the stupidity of the proposal.
Dan replied, “We could run a telephone vote. That should raise some cash.”
“And what about the illegality of making false insurance claims?”
“It's a grey area,” replied Dan. “Can I pop out for a smoke?”
I vaguely recall that our classmates and teacher were speechless. But I could see the genius in it – i.e. the sooner this was over, the sooner we could go for a fag.
Displaying no business acumen whatsoever, we rapidly and comprehensively drove the company into the ground and set about the far more urgent task of chatting up the girls on one of the other teams.
Needless to say, our teachers and team-mates were massively disappointed with our irresponsible cack-handed cheating and deliberate jeopardising of even the most basic tasks. However, Dan and I were in stitches the whole time. I knew then I had made a friend for life.
So I feel duty bound to recount some stories which give an insight into Dan's character. Sarah: you may feel I'm doing this too late, but better late than never.
Dan is a man of the world and is widely travelled. If you count Swannage and Newquay, that is.
Ben and I once tried to get Dan further afield but unwisely picked a Club 18 / 30s holiday in Faliraki. I would like to recount some stories from this trip, but all I remember is losing heavily at a game of “drink while you think” on day one. The rest is a blur.
As I recall, Dan was keen to find out about the local cultures and cuisine. Or should I say the cultures growing on the local cuisine. After one dinner of particularly moody pork kebabs all round, all three of us were struck down with horrific food poisoning. Things got so bad, Ben took the drastic step of putting a bog roll in the fridge. Dan ended up a shadow of his former self.
I thought this experience might put him off foreign travel for life. But I understand Dan recently went Down Under with you, Sarah, and he says he very much enjoyed the experience.
I hear however that Dan was stopped at Australian immigration and asked if he had a criminal record. I believe he said “Well no, I didn't realise you still needed one to get in.” I can only apologise on his behalf.
But I was surprised to hear from Dan that you're going to North Wales for your honeymoon. Or at least I think that`s what he meant when he said he was going to Bangor all week!
Anyway, let's move on. Dan is proud of his Scottish ancestry. Anyone who's tried to get him to buy a round will confirm this. Dan was once an expert at tossing his caber, but I think he practices less nowadays. I am genuinely surprised he's not wearing a kilt today. Any excuse to wear a skirt and Dan's normally game.
Let's look at Dan's career. On leaving school, Dan joined Greenwich university and studied biochemistry. Despite an attendance record best described as ‘sketchy,’ Dan graduated and would later complement his degree with an Open University course in necrophilia, or something.
His first summer job was on the gate of a stately home in Kent called Lullingstone Castle. The brief was simple: to warmly greet paying customers, relieve them of some cash and point them in the right direction. Dan rose to the demands of the role by learning nothing at all about the cstle or its history, and instead raising the entry fee for people he didn't like the look of and trousering the difference. The teeth-grinding boredom was only relieved by advising passers-by who were looking for the adjacent, but poorly sign-posted, Lullingstone golf course to head off in the general direction of Ipswich.
Next came a 2 week stint as a bar steward at a place in Swanley called D&#233j&#224 vu. Frankly, I'm surprised it lasted two weeks. Knuckle-dragging, drunken oafs barking orders and expecting jovial banter were sorely disappointed. An unfortunate few were cut to shreds by Dan's razor-sharp wit. Dan consulted with his manager and they agreed that stepping down was the right thing to do. Apparently, beating the snot out of the next person who made some joke about whether Dan had Sex On the Beach with a Black Russian would not, in fact, be acceptable.
Later, Dan started more convivial employment at a pharmaceutical company called Interport in South London. Dan worked in quality control, both attributes which appeared to be largely absent when Dan joined. Tales of ambiguously labelled drugs lying in the back yard in the elements for weeks on end were not uncommon. Entire palettes of Viagra disappeared without trace. Didn't they Dan?
Anyway, Dan's contribution to the firm was significant and many hours were put in, but his boss a certain Mr Patel failed to realise it. In a particularly serious error of judgement, Mr Patel decided that Dan's Christmas bonus one year should be – a tin of biscuits. Dan never recovered from the insult, and left soon after.
Which brings us on to Dan following a lifelong ambition and starting work as a Scenes Of Crime Officer with the Met. Anyone who's seen Dan's bookshelf will know that it's overflowing with gruesome tomes on the most horrific crimes in recent history. At last, Dan could finally put his morbid and frankly disturbing obsession with death and misery to some constructive use.
Dan's stories of fighting crime over the years are many and varied. A great many youths are behind bars because of Dan. I'm sure they'd like to thank you personally one day, so I have passed on your address to Brixton prison.
Dan's skills are finely honed with his years of experience. At the scene of one presumably very serious crime, a Police officer telephoned Dan to call upon his expertise and ask whether fingerprints could be recovered from – an onion. Dan responded, &quotIt might be difficult after I've shoved it up your arse.&quot Vegetable-related crimes are not a speciality, it seems.
And of course, work is where Dan met Sarah. I feared Dan had blown it when he decided to cook you a meal for your first Valentines together. But gratefully I was wrong – nothing like a romantic burger and chips, hey?
When I asked Sarah what she was looking for in their marriage, she said “Happiness, fulfilment and a long life together.” When I asked Dan the same question, he said “A toaster.”
But seriously, I think you guys work so well together because you understand what makes each other tick. You've set up a fantastic home here in Maidstone and I think I speak for everyone when I say how happy we are to be here today and share in the celebration of you becoming husband and wife. Sarah: you look fabulous and Dan is a very lucky man indeed.
So, it's time to draw my speech to an end. Before I do, I'd just like to read some telegrams of people who couldn't be here with us today:
• Congratulations Daniel, you were one of my best pupils. Hang on a minute! Aren't you one of the punks who broke into my school? From: Mr Smith, Head Master of Dartford Grammar School.
• Dear Dan. You were my best employee. Would you come back if I gave you a chocolate finger? And don't worry about the Viagra. From: Mr Patel, head of Interport pharmaceuticals company.
• Dear Dan, hope you have made the right decision, I`ll always remember the long, lovely evenings we spent around my swimming pool, all my love, Michael Barrymore.
So there we have it.
Dan – we have had some excellent times together over the years, and I know that we will continue to do so in the years to come. You have been a great friend to me and it is a tremendous honour to be your best man. I wish you and Sarah every happiness for the future.
Now it gives me great pleasure to ask you all to stand and raise your glasses, to the new Mr and Mrs Smith.