While the red-headed Hector man is spelling out the meaning of "LOhVE", Barry White-style - "L is for lovely . . ." - his Gimme 3 co-presenter Clodagh is looking increasingly confused, bemused and ultimately collapsing into laughter as he concludes, looking a little lost himself: "E is for `exuberant, effervescent . . . emancipation?"
It's just another throwaway bit of seemingly utterly disorganised dialogue between the two hosts of tv3's afternoon show. Apparently aimed at kids, with its cartoons and post-primary time slot, in fact its humour would appeal as much to any adult of giddy disposition.
Twenty-three-year-old Clodagh Ni Shaoire and her twenty something sidekick, Hector O hEochagain, have proved a hit in the station's schedule. Going out against The Den on Network 2 (from 4 p.m. to 5 p.m. Monday to Friday and 7.35 a.m. to 10.30 a.m. on Sunday), theirs is a similar format, if somewhat madder in content. It achieved its one-year objective ratings in two months and has on occasion beaten The Den's. Clodagh and Hector sit behind their desk - which is decorated with everything from dodgy road-signs to David Beckham's underpants, not to mention their special guest, Chris the Christmas tree - proffering their anarchic humour to anyone who stumbles upon them. Among the cartoons, which serve really as links between their slots, are Loggerheads, produced by the Galway-based company Magma Films, and the cult American cartoon Ren and Stimpy. That Ren and Stimpy was shown on RTE in a late-night slot gives some indication of the irreverent, even risque nature of the show's approach.
"After Ren and Stimpy," says Hector, "you can't just give them pipe-cleaners and empty washing-up liquid bottles. It just wouldn't work. Eleven-year-olds know what's what," he continues. "They know what's going on with music, they get the jokes, the innuendo. They know when someone is being witty or being fake."
Though there is a script, penned by Hector's never-still hands, there is also an enormous amount of ad-libbing. "When we get a good train of thought," says Hector, "we go for it" - though, as Clodagh says, she often has no clue where his train of thought is destined.
"One we do," Hector continues, "is a little thing called The State Of The Place instead of Our House. It's a DIY show of sorts, with Duncan Stewbreath instead of Duncan Stewart. You know, I'd be there with hard hat on, tapping the table going `Ooh now missus, that's a lovely bit o' wood you have there,' giving my useless tips like, `Be sure to clean out the ashes of the fire at least after every 45 fires'."
There is also a parody of Can't Cook, Won't Cook called Haven't A Clue How To Cook. Every six weeks or so they hope to do a skit on a music video. Just before Christmas, €17's Stay had the two bumping into each other on the beach at Salthill and making oh-so meaningful, oh-so wistful gazes at the camera, along with oh-so bad dance moves.
Hector says many young people look to England for the kind of humour they're offering - ". . . to Harry Enfield, The Fast Show; Gimme Gimme Gimme. They're clever, subtle. You're not quite sure what they're at."
Clodagh, who has never done TV before, also produces the show, while Hector doubles up as script writer-cum-presenter. He is a product of the same secondary school in Co Meath that produced Dylan Moran and Tommy Tiernan. "It must have been something in the broccoli," he shrugs. "Tommy was one of my best mates. When he refers to Hector, that's me. Yeah, he uses all my jokes," he says with a sideways grin. "I stick to the television. He does the live stuff. It's an agreement we have, in Navan anyway.
"I gave Dylan grinds for his Inter Cert. Sure, the school was mad. The English teacher, Richie Ball, used to let us improvise, telling us, `Right, today we're in a mental institution lads in the country somewhere. Off you go,' and he'd close the door and let us at it, ad libbing, improvising, encouraging us not to be afraid. The best craic I ever had was in school, in the 1980s." The ever-smiling, bright-eyed Clodagh studied German and Irish and then TV and radio production through Irish, in Galway. A placement with Magma films (who produce the show) led to a production-presenting role when the pitch for Gimme 3 was being made to tv3. At auditions for the male-presenting role, Hector's telling the kids to be proud of their red hair in a fake Cavan accent had Clodagh laughing.
Since then they have made 120 shows and the plan is to make 300 this year. It takes almost all their time. Asked whether they hang out together when they are free, Hector is dismissive: "Sure, not at all. I head off for the weekends to my mansion in Teneriffe."