Here’s how to nail your Late Late Toy Show ticket application form

*struggles to lift application form because it has been extremely nailed*

Application forms are now open to apply for The Late Late Toy Show tickets. Gardaí are advising hopefuls to take all necessary precautions when applying, such as using a secure internet connection and wearing a helmet and elbow pads where available. It's expected that roughly four people in the country will be successful in securing tickets, with the rest mysteriously being allocated to those in a fortunate place of employment *side eye emoji* The most important thing to remember when applying is to avoid any panic. Simply follow the sample guide below and you'll bag those tickets in no time, champ.

---

Your first answer is crucial. You want to make a good impression, but also assure them that you're the right person for the job. Don't be afraid to go in heavy, it's what they want. I am the perfect Toy Show audience member because I am an incredible clapper. There is a girl in UCC currently writing her dissertation on my clapping skills, such is the aptitude that I have for clapping. Team that with my animalistic instinct for producing a fully credible 'Ooh' and 'Aah' when the situation merits it and what you've got here is an audience member at the top of their game. I'm very good at keeping quiet when necessary, the time spent in the bunker during childhood definitely helped that, plus I will ensure the safety of others throughout the course of the evening. What I am saying is that I am fully prepared to die for the Toy Show. I'm also a solid 6/10 in the looks department which isn't great but do you honestly want to take a risk on some applicant that hasn't openly declared their score? I wouldn't. This next question is begging for a glimpse into what makes you unique. Think outside the box to really grab their attention. Sell yourself. I would act like I was deeply interested in the books section, even though we all know that reading is for dorks. I'd nod with widening eyes as the camera pans to me during Síofra from Belturbet telling us that the Oxford English Dictionary is "like honestly the best thing since Ulysses". My other party pieces include being able to recite Pi to four decimal places, having the ability to detect whether cucumber is in something from smell alone, I can predict how many likes an Instagram is going to get before it's been posted, I can successfully flip a bottle in no more than five attempts, I know all the lyrics to 'Come Out Ye Black And Tans' and I can charm a snake through charisma alone. Now they want to know if you're a loser or not. I recommend bigging yourself up a bit here, don't be afraid to stretch the truth a little. I take the Toy Show very seriously. Up to a month in advance I'll be decorating the house, sending out invitations and sacrificing a deer for slaughter in honour of the Toy Show. On the day itself, I'm a giddy mess. One year I put cyanide into the fruit punch by accident, I am such a klutz! The guests usually arrive around midday to beat the traffic. Mr. Majestical always brings me a gift of some flowers, John Trundlewheel will take care of the sandwiches and Maisy Flumpkin handles the sweet treat side of things. Trudy Fakesurname never brings anything, but that is due to religious beliefs. Truthfully, I always end up turning people away from the house because I am very popular and we simply don't have enough space for them all. During the show there must be complete silence, even when the ad breaks are on. We soak it all in whilst gorging ourselves on typical Christmas treats like chowder and Babybels. When the show ends a cool twelve hours after it begins, we'll sit around the kitchen table and have a lengthy discussion about how we all feel the show went and then individually rank the children from worst to best. It's not unusual for a small argument to kick off, but that's what happens when such a big and definitely real group of characters all get together. It could be midnight before we all get to bed. We're usually all exhausted and cranky the next morning, but it's worth it. This next question is vital. What they want to determine is whether you think you're going to get a free pass to a whopper goody bag or if you're prepared to work for it. Be sure to tell the truth, but only if the truth casts you in a favourable light. If it doesn't, lie through your fucken teeth, pal. See two questions above for my party piece/special talent, then fire your question writer because he/she has made shite of this application form. Anyway, I am extremely willing to take part in games and interactions. I have a large amount of interaction experience, boasting over two interactions per day, every day. I'm a real people person, they simply cannot get enough of me. In terms of audience games, oh boy do I love a good game. Pheasant, hare, deer, partridge, duck, goose - game is the most tender meat around. Admittedly, I haven't hunted audiences for sport before, but as I said above, I have no issue in dying for The Late Late Toy Show. I will kill and subsequently be killed if it means getting to sit in the audience for this beloved spectacle. Would other applicants admit that? Unlikely. This final question will be ignored by most and that's precisely why they won't be getting tickets and you will. This is your chance to really sell yourself, no holds barred. Just go for it. It's your last chance to woo them. Give it your all, champ. When I was eight years old, I had a very vivid dream. I was transported back to Dallas in 1963. It was November 22nd, half past midday and there was a slight chill in the air. As I got to grips with my surroundings, I realised that I was in a car, waving to crowds lined along the street. There was a handsome man sitting beside me. He was wearing a suit, he was waving and smiling to the crowd. We were holding hands. It felt right. Then there was a loud bang and this man's head was now resting in my lap. There was blood everywhere, he was clearly very hurt. Before he took his final breath, he whispered something to me. He said "Apply for tickets to The Toy Show in 2017, they would be fools not to have you". What? Who was this man? What did it all mean? That man was President John F. Kennedy, and I was playing the role of his wife, First Lady Jackie Kennedy Onassis. He died shortly after our important interaction. But why did such a vivid dream befall me at eight years of age? It was fate. I was always destined to be in the Toy Show audience. The 35th President of the United States knew it, and now so do you. Do not overlook fate on this occasion. The consequences could be dire. Just to very quickly summarise, I'd like two tickets. Thanks.