There’s never been a comic quite like The Comic Relief Comic (or, to give it its full title, which I won’t type out again over the course of this article, The Totally Stonking, Surprisingly Educational And Utterly Mindboggling Comic Relief Comic), and – with the greatest respect due to people who I know are trying to come up with an updated version for the twenty-first century one of these years, with an utterly corking concept behind it – it’s highly likely that there won’t ever be again.

For the uninitiated – hey, we get some Americans reading this site, right? – Comic Relief is a biannual charity telethon on the BBC that features comedians and other assorted TV and media types doing Things They Wouldn’t Normally Do and Other Comedy Stuff in order to raise money for a vast array of worthy causes. In addition to the telethon itself, however, various items of merchandise and suchlike (the most famous being the plastic “red noses” that give the night its colloquial Red Nose Day name) are produced each time it rolls around, and one of the most astounding was a comic put together by Fleetway for the 1991 edition.

It featured a startling assortment of British comics talent (and this was in 1991, when British writers and artists were pretty much dominating the American field, too), the like of which will probably never be seen again. The whole thing was curated by Richard Curtis, Neil Gaiman, Peter Hogan and Grant Morrison, but the list of names that featured work in it… well, it’s far too long to reproduce in full (the credits take up the entire last page, reeled off by Baldrick from Blackadder) but it includes the likes of Dave Gibbons, Garth Ennis, Steve Dillon, Jamie Delano, Jamie Hewlett, Bryan Talbot, Mark Buckingham, Mark Millar, Simon Bisley and many, many more. Furthermore, although not actually credited (due to a longstanding dispute with Fleetway dating back to his 2000AD days), it’s been said by Gaiman that Alan Moore had a hand in the pages done by Melinda Gebbie.

I’m cheating slightly on saying I’m “glad I bought” this, as I didn’t actually buy it – although I was in the shop when it was bought, but I honestly can’t remember if I pestered my Dad for it, or if he would have bought it anyway (he, unlike my eight-year-old self, would have been acutely aware of just what a strong gathering of talent this was). Either way, I’ve had it ever since, and have long-since cherished it – even long before I knew who any of the writers and artists were. It’s an utterly bizarre thing, essentially taking the loose structure of a Comic Relief night (complete with hosts Jonathan Ross, Lenny Henry and Griff Rhys Jones – the first two of whom are, of course, massive comics fans themselves) and so jumping between a number of two-page guest appearances from assorted comics stars, including the then-huge Teenage Mutant Ninja/Hero Turtles (a great running gag in this segment, written by Gaiman, refers to the naming dichotomy between the US and the UK), the Beano and Dandy crowds, and a crossover between Dan Dare and Doctor Who. But there’s also an odd twin-stranded plot running throughout, where Griff has been replaced by a member of a bizarre race of people with houses for heads (I have a feeling this may have been Morrison’s plot), who are trying to take over the world by capitalising on people’s meanness. This then ties into the other main plot, where the latest descendent of the Blackadder dynasty is shown the true meaning of Comic Relief by a disabled girl, finally handing over a cherished 50p donation after inadvertently laughing at her earlier joke.

Anyway, despite not having actually bought it myself, I’m greatly pleased to have a copy in my possession – as Gaiman explains, the comic sold out “in minutes”, and was never reprinted due to a dispute with DC over the way their characters were used (spoilsports). Although I don’t plan ever to trade on its presumed market value now (not least because, although not exactly falling apart, it’s not been kept in mint condition, having been read hundreds of times over the past two decades), it’s a nice thing to have a copy of – not least since, as I’ve got more and more into comics, it’s been fun recognising in it the work of artists like Dillon and Gibbons that I’ve subsequently become a fan of. And it’s always nice to think “I’ve got that! Yay!” when I see discussion of it pop up every so often. Stonking.