For a time in the late 60s, myself, Jack Nicholson and Dennis Hopper were inseparable. The Three Amigos. Nobody called us that, which always surprised me. The Two Amigos would probably have been more accurate anyway, because we really didn’t see that much of Dennis. Or Jack, for that matter — he had a habit of going AWOL and blanking my calls.

Our friendship began on the set of the hit movie Easy Rider. Jack and Dennis starred, while I enjoyed a cameo as black street pimp Tony Samoa. Sidney Poitier was originally slated to play Samoa, but pulled out two days before shooting began, leaving producer Peter Fonda in a pickle. Bizarre circumstances had once seen Peter and I share a one-man lilo in a Las Vegas swimming pool. He later wrote in his autobiography that “…those forty minutes, on that lilo, were the most awkward of my life.” Mine too, but for some reason we stayed in touch.

Peter knew I was in town because I’d courted some local headlines for snatching an old lady’s handbag on the high street (a backfired stunt for an ill-conceived hidden camera show). He also knew I had acting experience, and so called and offered me the part. I remember the conversation as though it were 27 or 28 years ago instead of 40.

“I appreciate the work Pete…”
“Please, call me Mr Fonda.”
“I appreciate the work Mr Fonda, but do you recall that I’m white?” I asked.
“You are? Aw, man. The light must have reflected strangely off that lilo. Well, I guess we’re gonna need you to ‘minstrel up’ on this one Flann,” he replied casually.

I believe I acquitted myself well in the role of Tony Samoa, but once the Civil Rights guys heard what was going on, they picketed the set. Martin Luther King criticised me personally, calling me “lower than a snake’s bellybutton,” and “the kind of cockroach whose death would make you chuckle.”

Such vitriol from Dr King was unprecedented, and I feel his words were directly responsible for all my scenes ending up on the cutting room floor. I also blame some extremely dodgy makeup, which left me about as African American looking as Macaulay Culkin.

I lost touch with Jack and Dennis for some months after, but was reunited with them for the wrap party in LA. The official shindig tapered off near dawn, at which time The Three Amigos went to Jack’s pad for a nightcap. No sooner had we stripped to our Y-fronts when Jack disappeared into the depths of his lair, mumbling about a surprise. Having never been comfortable alone in each other’s company, myself and Dennis sat in a silence so dense it could have been used as grout.

Jack returned several long, long minutes later pushing a wheelbarrow sloshing with a lime green substance.

“LSD, baby,” laughed Jack.
“Groovy,” said Dennis.
“What’s LSD?” I asked.
“Are you square?” hippied Dennis.
“How the hell do you get to 1969 without hearing of LSD?” quizzed Jack.

I was cruelly ridiculed about my ignorance for the next two hours. During that time we drank the wheelbarrow dry in a textbook, hippy overdose. A ‘bad trip’ was soon embarked upon, during which we badly lost our composure and rang the emergency services. I present now a transcript — obtained under The Freedom of Information Act — of that emergency call, and hope it serves as a deterrent.

Operator: Hello, 911?
Me: Yes, hello?
Operator: What is the nature of your emergency?
Me: Hello?
Operator: Yes hello?
Me: Lady, you’ve got to help us.
Operator: What’s the nature of your emergency?
Me: We’re freakin out, man. We’re freakin out.

Operator: You’ll need to be more specific. Do you require police, ambulance or fire department?
Me: Yes, a bit of everything please.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled, in the background) What’s she sayin, man? Did you tell her we’re freakin out?
Me: Shut up, I’m dealing with this.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) I’m freakin out, man. I’m freakin out.
Operator: Sir, who are you talking to?
Me: Jack Nicholson.

Operator: Sir…sir I need you focus here. What exactly is the emergency?
Me: (starting to cry) It’s just…Dennis…
Operator: Dennis?
Me: Dennis Hopper. He says that he can see our outsides, but he’s 100% positive that our insides aren’t there any more.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) Tell her about the insides.
Me: (hysterically crying) I’m telling her, I’m telling her. Mam? Mam?
Operator: Yes?
Me: Are we the same person? I don’t mean now, but before?

Operator: Sir, we really can’t help you. I think you just need to calm down and…
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) Tell her about the knife.
Me: He has a knife.
Operator: Who?
Me: Dennis Hopper. He wants to cut us open, so our insides can get back in when they get back from Reno. We’re inclined to let him, but we fear the reaper, man. We fear the reaper.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) I’m freakin out.
Me: We’re freakin out, lady. Throw us a bone here, hah?

Operator: Sir, I’m sending a car over. Please hold he line. Where is Mr Hopper now?
Me: He’s standing beside me.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) I’m freakin out, man. I’m freakin out here.
Operator: Beside you? Could you put him on.
Dennis Hopper: Hello, this is Dennis Hopper. To whom am I speaking?
Operator: Sir, this is the emergency services. Is it true that you have a knife in your possession?
Dennis Hopper: Yes, that’s correct.
Operator:…and….and what are your intentions sir?
Dennis Hopper: I’m going to gut these two hollow gentlemen like fish, and refill them with some insulation I found in the attic.

Operator: Could you hand the phone back to the other gentleman?
Jack Nicholson: (not muffled) I’m freakin out, man.
Operator: No, not you…sir, could you pass the phone back to the first gentleman.
Dennis Hopper: Hello?
Operator: No…sir, could you pass the phone, not to Jack Nicholson, but to the man who called originally?
Me: Hello?
Operator: Sir?
Me: Yes?
Operator: Without being confrontational, would it be possible to take the knife from Mr Hopper?
Me: Yes, I’m holding the knife now.
Operator: You are? Mr Hopper didn’t resist?
Me: No, he’s busy filling a chain-saw with petrol.
Jack Nicholson: (muffled) Hey, I’m not freaked out any more. I’m ok! I’m ok! Oh, oh no…there it goes, I’m freaking out again.

The call ended to the sound of a chain-saw spluttering to life. None of us remember much after that, although virtually everything Jack owned — including his cat — was cut in two by the time the pigs arrived. A bad day at the office.