When I was finishing my studies, I did a brief stint with that stalwart show of my childhood... 50/50. As producer/researcher of a small segment, I was required to conduct an interview at one stage in a horse paddock. I don't like horses. Horses don't like me. Well, it's not that they don't like me - I don't think they actually care enough to like or dislike. There is only one mammal in control of any relationship I have with horses; and it is invariably not me. Horses are evil. Have you looked into the eye of a horse? I mean, really, looked into the eye of a horse? Pitch black and pure evil. I swear.
Anyway, so horses and I get along just fine when there's a fence or at least several hundred metres between us. On that day - despite my best attempts ("maybe you and the camera can be in the paddock, and I'll just shout the questions to you..?") - I found myself in a paddock surrounded by camera equipment, a horse breeder and several frolicking horses. The breeder, never mind the actual horses, could smell my anxiety but he assured me that the horses would pay no attention to me because he and his assistant had loaded their pockets with sugar cubes.
Okay then. Roll camera. I relaxed as I watched the horses butting and harrassing my interview subject, clearly loving the extra sugar and attention they were getting. So I failed to notice when a young filly left the group, sauntered up behind us and for some god forsaken reason... bit.. my.. ass. And I'm not talking 'Eyore' kind of ass, I'm talking right buttock cheek... ass.
Jaaaa-sus, it was sore. With a yelp I jumped forward, rubbing my tush and doing circles to keep away from the frisky filly. Of course, everyone found this highly amusing and the breeder even asked if I had anything in my pockets.
Oh sure, I carry those extra sugar cubes around with me for when I accidentally bump into playful equidae. No, I bloody don't have anything in my bloody pockets!
I don't know if that ever made it onto a bloopers reel (I don't think there's anyone at 50/50 who has enough humour to put something like that together). But I did have a U-shaped (horse-shoe-shaped?) bruise on my butt for a while afterwards. And a great anecdote... "did I tell you about the time when I got bitten on the butt by a horse, on camera?"
But it's not nearly as good as being bitten on the butt, by a pelican, and screaming like a 5-year-old girl to the delight of a live TV audience.
Aaaaah... watching a grown (Aussie) man whimper, wail and giggle nervously is always entertaining. Makes me laugh, every time.