Big Job Doom Thing, Page 50.

Jon Fat Beast was the fat bastard. THE fat bastard. He'd come onstage before us to abuse the audience, abuse the band, get his knob out, wobble his enormous belly, cover himself in squirty cream, have beer thrown at him, and eventually introduce us before running (yes, I know) to the back of the hall to operate the lighting desk. I loved watching the Beast from the stage, banging away on the lighting desk like he was a mad classical pianist playing the concert of his life and raising his arms aloft like he'd just won the FA cup.