Sharon and Ozzy | Master of Reality | 3

Okay, Alice, this is very exciting for us today. This is the first time that an episode of British Scandal's been filmed. Yes, and I've had a little bit of direction from the producers. We need to do something that's sort of attention grabbing, we'll keep people watching and listening, something a bit

Wow. Great. I'm up for that. Great. So just some ideas we were knocking around before you arrived. Um we thought we could gather all your exes here and then get them to just tell stories about you, embarrassing, demeaning kind of stuff. I mean Sounds like a nightmare. Are there any other ideas? Uh okay, we could try this is really fun.

So for a lot of people this is the first time they'll actually have ever seen us in the flesh, flesh being the operative word. So what we thought we could do is reveal different parts of your body, brackets intimate, and then see if the general public can identify you from them. Um

I obviously want to do stuff for the good of the show. Yeah, yeah, me too. But I if there was something else then uh I'd be open to that. Okay. You don't you don't like the penis one. Okay. Oh, here now. I loved this when I first heard it. Okay. So we give you liposuction on all your flabby bits and then hopefully it goes a bit wrong and then there's an infection and we get to kind of follow that up and you'll be under local so you can talk throughout.

Okay. I mean that g that gives me a bit more agency than the others, I think. Yeah. And if y if you are convinced it will help the show, I'll do it. Great. I'll see if there's a dodgy doctor that can do it in sixty seconds'cause that's best for socials.

5th of July 2025, Villa Park, Birmingham. Aussie peers out from the wings, takes in the sight of the crowd, and feels the breath leave his body. 40,000 punters in the stadium. 5 million people watching live all around the world. Ozzie can scarcely believe it. Here he is, 76 years old, and he's the headline act.

Staring in wonder around the venue, he feels the years peel back. Back to the days when his dad brought him here to watch Villa, when he and his school friends would hang about the car park on matchdates, scoring cheap speed and Siggies, the days when he was playing. Plain old John Osborne. Stop. That's a plain Jane name, John Osborne. John Osborne works in IT, doesn't he? He's big on LinkedIn at John Osborne. Loves going to conferences. Yep. He's a real lanyard fiend. A hand rest.

Gently on Ozzie's shoulder. He turns to see Tony Iomi, his old Black Sabbath bandmate, a twinkle in his eye. Give him hell, Oz. Ozzie grins. He goes to step out onto the stage, but he But his leg won't move. His hip is locked tight. As he tries again his body lurches. A lightning crack of pain shoots up his spine. He folds over in agony. Gritting his teeth, he tries to gain control of his muscles.

But he can't command them to do his bidding. He needs help. Sharon! Sharon rushes to his side, clutches his tremoring arm. What is it, Oz? What can I do? He exhales slowly. The cheer. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to soothe himself. But the thought screaming in his head over everything is this is how Sharon guides him delicately back into the chair being wheeled towards him. A bespoke throne, seven foot high, studded black leather.

Adorned with a giant vampire bat, its wings spread wide. A wheelchair fully befitting the Prince of Darkness. Ozzie clasps the armrests. Are you sure you want to do this? Ozzie looks up, the pain still coursing through his body, his muscles still convulsing. A bit fucking late in the day to be asking that now.

As his wife, she's going to you're right. As his manager, she's like, I think you can do it. Jab him with summer and we'll sort it in two hours. That's what your wife did when you were in recovery. Sharon splutters out a laugh, one that sets off a tear. He stares lovingly at her. How the two of them have survived the fifty years of mayhem they've shared, he'll never know. But this feels like a fitting end. Not many people get to play their own wake.

The roar swells as his band takes their place. He sees Sharon wipe her eyes, then smile. One last time. She nods. He leans back in his throne, raises an arm. and points a shaking finger towards the stage. Three men approach and start to push the Prince of Darkness forward into the deafening chants and the screams of the crowd for what he knows will be his final show. All aboard! Let's fucking go!

Amazon presenterar Simon och Hans dejtingner. Under miljontals år har djur utvecklat sofistikerade paningsritualer. Fåglar dansar, varje rylar och pinginer fria med stenar. Simon, det bor alltid dju i dig din rackare. Få dig inte att hända, hoppa på amazon.se. From Audible original

And I'm Alice Levine. And this is British Scandal. So Alice, I think it's fair to say Ozzie and Sharon are quite a pair. They are quite a pair. They are a couple with so many contradictions. On the one hand They are soulmates really. They're funny together, they're silly, they can be really romantic and goofy. But then there's this other side which is totally toxic. This dark side where you get incidents like the last episode.

Of domestic violence where Ozzy tried to kill Sharon. Yes, and he's vulnerable in his own way. He's got addiction issues, things in his childhood that are deeply traumatic. And he is a a chaotic individual. I just can't imagine how on earth they are gonna get back on track. Well, this is episode three, Master of Reality.

35 years earlier, September 1989, Amersham Police Station. Ozzie slumps in his jail. Staring into the middle distance, a cold shiver skittering all over him. He's lost track of the Every second feels infinite. He keeps fading in and out of consciousness. Images of Sharon's contorted, terrified face flash across his mind.

This is of course that horrible incident at their house where he completely lost it and went for her. Yes, and uh got arrested, and he's about to face the consequences of his own actions. Ozzie is jolted from his nightmare as a guard appears and barks at him. Someone has seen you! His heart sinks. He can't bear another interrogation. Or a lawyer come to tell him how many years he's facing. But the guard holds him to his feet. tracks him through the station to the door of the interview room.

Then leans in close to his ear. Any funny business or break your legs. Ozzie swallows hard. The door swings open, he's shoved through, and his legs almost give out from underneath him when he sees who's there. Sharon. He tries to speak, to say her name, but he chokes on air. Their eyes meet fleetingly. As she turns her head away, he sees them. Blackish purple handprints on her neck. He crumples into his seat.

I'm so fucking sorry, Sharon. I don't know what happened. It's just all fucking black. But I'd never want you dead. I just fuck. Ozzie breaks down, his head drops, sobbing onto the table. I wanted to see you so I could tell you in person. He hears her take a slow, steadying breath. I've made a decision. Ozzie clasps his hands together. No, Sharon, please. He brings his hands to his head, driving his fists in hard, bracing himself.

I'm not pressing charges. Ozzie blinks, collapses back in disbelief. Whatever that was, whatever you became that night, I know that wasn't my husband. But I can't continue, Ozzie. This will be life altering if she leaves him. She is what I mean, not to overstate it, keeps him alive. Yeah, he's chaotic enough with Sharon Osborne in his life without her.

Game over. Also you can't imagine either of them with anyone else. No, I really can't. Imagine if she'd started dating Hugh Dennis. Yeah, Tony Hadley. What? You can't She's never gonna find anyone that's gonna like Aussie with Fiona Bruce, it just doesn't make sense. Tears start to fill Ozzie's eyes. He forces his palms together. Sharon, I can't. I'll do anything. He wills her to look at him, but instead she takes a step toward the door, places her hand on the bolt. Anything, Sharon, I swear.

He sees her pause, then slowly turn as she fixes him with a look at the Tears now in her eyes. I swear I'm not sure. Ozzie can hear his own heartbeat in the silence. I'm giving Mother Teresa a run for her fucking good deeds. You're going to rehab and you will not step. Demon inside you is a good one.

Can you imagine group therapy with Ozzie Osborne? Look, everyone not supposed to eat in here, and Ozzie, you are eating a bat, so can we just put our snacks aside? I'll need it for the fucking protein. Ozzy's stomach nods. He pictures the rules, the withdrawal. Of course. You have a family, Oz. From this moment on day come first. Kids need their father and I need my husband back. He wipes his blubbering face, snot and tears all over his hands.

But I'm telling you now, you fuck this up, I'm gone. Forever. Ozzie's body gives out, collapses onto the table, convulsing with relief. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve this. All he knows is that he'll quit whatever he has to. Booze, pills, his whole rock and roll reputation. Because he is never going to risk losing Sharon ever again.

Ten years later, February 2000, Sharon's home office, Beverly Hills. Sharon's grip tightens around her mouse. She's squeezing it like the brick she so dearly wants to smash into her client's face. On screen is an email. Complaints about her management style. Lies. Billy Corgan, the singer of The Smashing Pumpkins, maligning her. Twisting reality to try and wriggle out of their contract. She smacks the mouse against the desk, swearing until her throat burns. She drags the keyboard close. This

Please inform Mr Corgan I will no longer be able to work with him on health grounds. Because he makes me fucking sick! She's pinned. Such a great email. Can I actually send that email to somebody right now? Yeah. Um question, did we get sorry I just had an email. A quick, cathartic thrill rushes through her, replaced by panic. The pumpkins were the only act she had a shot of placing on a festival lineup this summer.

Sharon spent the past decade reinventing herself and Aussie just to keep them alive in an industry that's already written them off. She tries desperately to think. But her concentration is shattered by a shout from downstairs. SHARON! Sharon grits her teeth, charges downstairs to the living room, where a Spanish news channel blares full pelt, while Ozzie jabs helplessly at the remote. What the fuck are you doing? I'm trying to work on!

Uh the clicker's not working. Sharon snatches it from him. Oh see, it's fucking soaking! Uh it fell in the dog bowl. This is such a stressful household. It's like um it's like they live in the Beano or something. These are like such hapless people. Why are they the Chuckle brothers? She blazes past him, yanks the plug from the wall. The TV goes black. The room falls silent. There! She slams the broken remote into his chest.

Storms back upstairs. But I wanted to watch the History Channel Sharon stops dead in her tracks. Her fists clench, knuckles straining against the skin. She knows the problem isn't just Aussie, it's everything. She needs to find a way to secure her family's financial future. But God, he makes things hard. Caring for a fifty year old man baby is a full time job too. It's draining enough being a mum to three moody teenagers. And on top of that, she's just torpedoed her biggest act.

She needs Ozzie to start pulling his weight again. She's only forty seven, but right now she feels more like a goddamn retired caregiver than she does a wife. Sometimes she thinks maybe the worst decision she ever made was to take him back. She could have walked away, made a clean break. Sharon sighs and hears the television downstairs kick into life. MTV's latest new metal sensation blares from the speakers.

You a fan of the new metal, Alice? I can't say I am or I was, but I was a big fan of the music channels. It was mad how hypnotic just watching music videos was. And how many hours of it you could watch. But endless and it made me feel American. I was like, this is what they're all doing. I bet Zach Morris and Kelly Kapowski are doing this.

I feel cool. Yeah,'cause we would have been I would have been thirteen or fourteen. And were you into slip knot and system of a down when you were thirteen? Yeah. Yeah. I love that what's that slip knot one? That one. Oh yes. Sharon knows to save their marriage, she needs to get Ozzie out of his slump. She just needs to make the world see that Ozzie is still relevant, that she is still relevant, and stop her from wanting to murder him. And she thinks she might just know the person to call.

One week later, the Ivy, Santa Monica. Nina Diaz checks her watch, scans the room again. Still no sign of Sharon and Ozzy. She squirms, glances at her phone, at the message from her boss that Johnny Knoxville has just pulled Jackass, MTV's biggest show from the network. Nina should be back at the office, but as one of MTV's top producers, she needs to keep her ear to the ground. There's a burst of commotion at the door. Nina looks up as Sharon bustles over, all air kisses and apologies.

Nina, darling, sorry I'm late. Nightmare morning. Azi not joining us. Oh God, I haven't brought Ozzy to a meeting in years. Not since he's stripped naked as a dinner with the head of CBS Europe. Nina chokes on her mineral water, lets out and laugh. He hopped up onto the table, dipped his willy in the guy's wine. swirled it, then planted a huge kiss on his lips. So no, he's at home. Nina had forgotten how entertaining Sharon could be.

She settles in, orders a drink. That's why I'm late. I left him spread eagled on the sofa, groaning like a fucking porn star. You feel like you want to have a conversation where you're like, Okay, so there's things we say in the house, yeah? And then there's things we say at school. Nina giggles. Sharon's always received a bad rap in the press, especially after she took Ozzie back. But Nina can't deny she is a force of nature.

Our new dog's not housebroken, you see. She's shitting like Mr Whippy, and Ozzy keeps slipping in it. Went arse over tick just as I was leaving. Put his back out. The waiter excuses himself. So now I need to call a physio for him. Plus a doc psychologist for Lola. Anyway, let me tell you my idea. A 30-minute segment on Ozzy's influence on all these new metal bands. Corn, Limp Biscuit, Slipknot wouldn't exist. Nina holds up her hand. Hang on, sorry. Did you say

psychologist. Nina sits rapped for the next two hours. As Sharon shares madcap tales of when she pissed in Ozzy's vintage whiskey bottles after an argument, or shat in a Tiffany box and sent it to a critic, or tried to knock her father down with her car, with the kids in the back seat. By the time the coffees are cleared, Nina's mind is utterly ablaze.

So you'll take the idea forward? Nina tries to catch up. Yeah, of course. But her mind is entirely elsewhere. She says her goodbye and steps out into the bright LA sunshine. Takes in the giant billboard across the street of MTV's The Real World series. The network has just aired the latest 10 seasons. It's been a staggering success. Even become a boilerplate for a new kind of television. A format the critics have dubbed.

Reality TV. And the real world just consists of six young people sitting around a Soho loft. If Nina could capture even a tenth of the story Sharon has just shared in a similar format, it could be explosive. Nina picks up her phone, calls her boss. I might have something. I'll be in in 10. She knows convincing any self-respecting celebrity to subject themselves to the real-world treatment would have to be out of their mind. Cameras rolling 24-7. No privacy.

last moment filmed for months on end. It had been madness. But if there were ever any celebrities crazy enough to embrace that madness, it might just be the Osbornes.

One week later, Beverly Hills. Sharon snaps her flip phone shut, her head swimming. Trying to make sense of the call she's just taken. Celebrity reality was how Nina described it. A brand new type of TV show. One that pierces the artifice of regular television, giving a truly real look at the lives of the rich and faithful.

By having a camera crew living in their house. Nina's even offered Sharon an executive credit. This could be her ticket. Not just to personal success, but also to revitalizing her marriage. For her and Aussie to have fun and make some money in the process.

Can you imagine pitching that to your partner? I'd like to uh film what we do in private. Oh yeah. That sounds sexy. No, sorry, everything we do. Everything. And it's gonna be with a professional group. Mainly you slipping in dog shit. That's what's gonna keep our marriage alive. This is not a decision Sharon can make alone. Kids, living room, family meeting. Sharon stands in front of the sofa as Amy, Kelly, Jack, and Ozzy all file in. I love that he counts as kids.

Uh you're right, Sharon. You look like you've got a fart, brewing. Actually, my darling That was MTV on the phone asking if we'd like to make a show. A TV show Jack rolls his eyes. Ah, MTV's so fucking lame. You're fucking lame. What's the show, ma'am? Sharon shrugs. I don't know. A sort of real life documentary, I think, about us and life in our home. Amy's face, however, contorts in horror.

So does Aussies. You want to invite cameras into the house? Have you lost your fucking mind? That's exactly why I want to do this. I'm fucking proud of the life we've made, of the man you've become, and I want the world to see it. Ozzie's wild stare softens, but Amy's doesn't. I'm sorry, you want to expose our family's weirdness on fucking television? It will like turn us into a freak show. Are you like too fucking stupid to see that? Fire blazes through Sharon. How fucking dare you?

Amy stumbles towards the door. Mum, yesterday, Dad tried to take me to school. It was Saturday. He thought it was fucking Monday. Sharon's glare softens. She knows Amy has struggled at school. They already call us the fucking Adams family? You do this to me, I swear, I'm moving out. Well, I guess that fucking settles it. Sharon grinds her teeth. No, it's not. Slowly, she turns back around.

She loves Amy with all her heart. But this isn't just about her. Sharon needs this, and she isn't going to back down. She is going to grab this opportunity with both hands. And, come what may, she is back. going to let the world in. The Osborns are a normal fucking family. Time to prove it. Emelson presenterar Oskars lägg dig. Oskar har inte skottat på över tre år. Om man kan välja mellan trappor och rulltrappen så tar han hsen. Hans ben får inga svåra uppdrag nu för tid.

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October 2001. Deheeney Road, Beverly Hills Amy? Are they watching? Christad, I know. This is what you and Mum agreed. I'm dialing off. Okay, love you. Love you too. Ozzie places the receiver down, tries to ignore the eye of a camera pointing at him from the end of the hallway. Filming has started, and Amy is living with her friends for the duration, and Ozzie wishes he was there too. He turns to the camera. What's that fucking smell?

Ozzie sniffs. A strange scent is filling the front room, and he seems to be the only one who's noticed it. Nina puts her finger to her lips, reminding him again not to talk to them. He's never going to get used to this. People following him everywhere he goes, but having to pretend that they're not. Sharon said this would be a reality series, but it couldn't feel more surreal. Kelly Suntersin, texting. Why's the kettle on fire? Ozzie turns around, sees the hob fully ablaze.

Uh did you put that on there? It's an electric fucking kettle. He runs to the oven, flames nipping his hands. How the fuck was I supposed to know? Well,'cause it's plastic. And it's got a big cord trailing out of it. Tossing a tea towel over it, he lobs the whole flaming mass into the sink. You fucking dim bulb, you almost burnt the ass. Damn! Don't fucking scream at me! Kelly flances out.

Ozzie turns to the unblinking camera crew. You were just gonna watch his fucking burn then. Nina's finger returns to her lips. Ozzie feels a gasket below. Sharon! He marches up to their bedroom. Jesus! What's that fucking smell? Ozzie drags her in close. This fucking film crew. I'm losing my mind, man. I want them gone. Sharon laughed. Why are you whispering? You're wearing a mic. Sharon points behind him. Ozzie turns to see the crew in the doorway.

His blood boils. Right, fuck it out, all of you now. Sorry, Ozzy, but Your bedroom is an active set. We agreed this. Ripping off his mic, he barges past them. And what about the bathroom? Wanna come and watch me cut one out of the fucking John? The crew stays still. So your fucking selves. Finally alone, Ozzie grips the edge of the sink.

stares into the mirrored medicine cabinet, then opens it. Painkillers for his back. He's only supposed to take one every six hours, but a few extra would really help take the edge off this afternoon. He feels himself reaching for the bottle, his fingers brushing the cap. When the door opens. Hey, what was all that? Are you okay? He slams the cabinet shut. Jesus, he's nowhere fucking safe in this. Sharon sidles up close.

Listen, I know this is a lot, but I would sooner die than have you humiliated. You do know that, don't you? Her head comes to rest against his. I'm so fucking proud of you, Ozzie. I just want the world to see what I see. He exhales slowly and He knows how much Sharon wants this. How good it could be for her career. She's made so many sacrifices for him, the least he can do is return the favor. But his sobriety is hanging by a thread. And right now, he's looking down another high.

And he isn't sure how much longer he can't.

February two thousand two, DAHENY Road, Sharon applies a final touch of lipstick, inspects her reflection. After five months of filming. Sharon should feel completely at ease on camera, but today feels different. She's about to shoot her end-of-series interview, Just Her, in close-up, and it's making her flesh crawl.

She's adapted surprisingly well to the 24-7 cameras. She's even enjoyed having the crew in the house. But she hates one-to-one interviews. Nina's head pokes around the side of the dressing room door. Okay, Sharon, we're ready for you. Sharon jusures her hair, takes a deep breath, and steps into the studio. Okay, I'm gonna play a few clips. Just wanna get some reactions. Don't overthink it. Just shoot from the hip.

Sharon's stomach flutters. The first clip rolls. It's Kelly blazing out of her bedroom. Which one of you fucking freaks booked me a gynecologist's appointment? My vagina, my business. Sharon tips her head back, cackling. Ha We should have called Kelly vagina. All she ever fucking says. Vagina this, vagina that Nina smiled. Perfect. Exactly that. Let's try another. They rattled through a few more clips.

Jack playing with a flick knife, Ozzie sniffing the dog's bumhole. You know, just a Tuesday afternoon. Just the normal stuff that families do. Then they come to one of Sharon's. She watches herself through slottered fingers, in tatty pajamas, no makeup, rummaging through her kitchen bin, picking out moldy fruit to throw. She laughs as she remembers the fight with the neighbours. That fucking karaoke went on until two AM.

The camera switches to Ozzy, swinging a gigantic hunk of firewood like an Olympic hammer, then sending it sailing over the hedge. Sharon freezes. What the fuck was that? Cold sweat pricks at her scalp. Did he splash a window? Fuck, I don't remember that. She clasps her hand to her mouth, feeling sick. Oh my god, they've got kids. We could have fucking killed one of them. How did I let Nina cuts her off. Relax, it's just a sound effect. We had a dead end.

Sharon's face scrunches in confusion. Would hitting grass sounded too flat? That shatter effect just helps the moment pop. She stares at the screen, dazed. No one's gonna think you put any kids in any danger. Don't worry. No one's gonna think that you come across as reckless or mad in any way. People are gonna watch this and think we're just like them.

Nina lines up the next clip, but Sharon can no longer focus. Her mind is running away with itself. All this time she'd assumed the point of filming 24-7 was to capture reality. But the more she watches, the more She realizes the footage has been added to, edited, manipulated. It's a series of chaotic vignettes, spliced dialogue, audio lifted from one scene in order to add drama to another. It doesn't reflect their real lives at all.

This seems so naive now, but there wasn't really anything for them to refer to. There was no precedent or template. And even years after the Osborne's, we as the audience were still none the wiser in lots of ways about these tactics. It's easy to look back and go, Well, it kind of worked out for them because they made tons of money and it was a really big hit. But at that moment of realization, when you're in the middle of it, you must feel like, oh God.

We've agreed to something that we're absolutely not in control of. They could do anything. They could paint them anyway. Apart from normal. Sharon's mouth goes dry, thinking about how this might look on air, and her blood runs cold. Promised to protect her family, to protect Ozzy, her kids. But Amy was right. She is deranged. She has teed her family up for humiliation. They are just weeks away from the premiere. All of America is going to watch this. Absolutely nothing she can do to stop it.

March 5th, 2002. The Osborne's house, Beverly Hills. Ozzie pounds on his treadmill, watching the clock crawl towards 8 p.m. Ozzie's hiding down here in the basement, hoping his family have forgotten him. Their show, The Osborne's, premieres tonight on MTV, and he'd do anything to avoid watching it, including working out. Even Sharon is anxious. Ever since she glimpsed that footage a few weeks ago, all he wants is for it to pass by quietly, without fanfare or ceremony.

For tonight to be a night just like any other. But no such luck. Dad! Get your sweaty ass up here, it's starting! Hobbling upstairs, he finds Kelly, Jack, and Sharon all huddled in front of the telly. He catches Sharon's eye. She looks as terrified as he feels. Amy's spot on the sofa is now filled by Lola, the diarrhea dog. Dad, fucking sit down! Ozzie plonks down next to them as the voiceover begins.

He takes Sharon's hand. Meet the perfect American family. Sharon and Kelly squeal as their family portrait fills the screen. For a moment, Ozzie feels a curious calm. Picked a lovely photo. The five of them, Amy included, all sat on the stairs, smiling sweetly. Then the camera cuts to Kelly. sat in the same room they're in now, launching a bottle of water full force at Jack's crotch. Sharon screamed. Jack doubles over, the dogs start yapping, and the chaos begins.

Ozzie's pulse keeps pace with the show's frantic editing. Panic rising as every last corner of his house is captured, his children screaming at each other, dogs pissing, cats hissing, Sharon humping a giant teddy bear cackling. This genuinely sounds like a fever dream. I mean one of those things would be embarrassing enough. At school.

You'd never hear the end of it. You're on telly and your dog pissed on the floor. But can you imagine their central nervous systems? They're all just perpetually in fight or flight,'cause stuff's just happening all over the place all the time. They can just never relax, even without the cameras. It's basically like being at war.

You're just permanently paranoid about where the next incoming grenade's coming from. Instead of gunfire, dog shit. And instead of landmines, dog shit. Instead of a superior officer, dog shit. It's Bedlam. Ozzie turns and smiles as Jack and Kelly laugh at his side. Even Sharon is now caught up in the antics on screen. But then the camera cuts to him. Ozzie's stomach hollows out as he sees himself shuffling forgetfully from room to room.

Shuddering, stammering, topless, his skin saggy and pale. The Prince of Darkness, a rock colossus. Now a jabbering, juddering wreck. It's humiliating. The half hour passes in a state of shock. The whole episode playing out like some cruel hallucination. Around him, his wife and kids jump from phone to phone, reeling off messages that are pouring in while he sits. Cementer to the sofa,

Stunned. Only roused by the sound of Sharon shrieking, he turns to see her hanging on the phone. She covers the mouthpiece. It's Nina. The switchboard's melting down at MTV! They've never seen anything like it! Ozzie blinks dumbly as Sharon returns to the call. He watches her eyes grow wide. They've only got early audience estimates, but Six million The number socks him cold. Ozzy sold 6 million copies of Blizzard of Oz. It took 20 years.

Now he's reached that same audience in just one night. MTV wants us to come to New York to help promote the show. Kelly lets out a yelp. Ozzie's vision starts to swim. His breath becoming shallow as he realizes his worst fear is coming to fruition. The show is a success. He's been pulled back into the vortex, into everything he's worked so hard to leave behind.

Fame, paranoia, self-hatred, and it's rushing back in. He feels Sharon squeeze his hand in excitement, but he knows the dark place this led him to last time. And right now he's never felt more scared. He has no idea how he's going to navigate this. And you might just think about it. Oh, he doesn't want to do this show because he wants to be known for music and he thinks that this is in some way cheap. But this isn't stage fright or snobbery.

For him, his mental health was destroyed by being in the spotlight. His substance abuse issues were exacerbated. It basically nearly killed him. Yes. So going back into that, he kind of, for Ozzy Osborne Sort of got himself in order, slightly got his life on track, had got himself to a place where he was a bit safer, and now he's about to be plunged back in.

Two weeks later, Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills. Sharon steps out of the car, slips on her sunglasses, ducks her head down, and heads for the boutiques. She and Ozzie have just been invited to the White House, and she needs something to wear. The Osbornes. Is a global phenomenon. MTV's highest-rated series in history. She isn't just a star in America, she's a superstar in 20 countries. And she's loving it.

Sharon, can we get a photo? Can you send my speeding ticket? Can you tell me to fuck up? Oh darling, I couldn't possibly. So before Brian Cox, she was the person that people asked to say, fuck off. It's funny that, isn't it, if you're a celebrity who's famous for saying something nasty or being horrible. Like people must want that from Danny Dyer. Yeah, oh for sure. Call me a mug. Go on. Say the C word, please. It's for my daughter. It's her eighth birthday, please.

Disappointment clouds the fan's face. Sharon melts. Fine. Fuck off. She lets out a chuckle, then waltzes into Dior. She flicks through the gowns, inspects a couple, when a shadow falls across her vision. Someone loitering behind her. Excuse me, ma'am. A man in the women's section. Mrs. Osborne. Sharon fixes her eyes forward. Yes? I watched your show. She glances up at the security camera, makes sure she's in scope. I'm concerned about what I saw. Your husband. Sharon grits her teeth.

She feels a sickness in the pit of her stomach. People have been airing their concerns about her husband for twenty five years now. She's heard them all. Concerned she's excusing domestic violence. Concerned she's romanticizing family dysfunction. She isn't going to put up with it any longer. Spinning round, she cuts him off. You can think whatever you like about me or my family. Lovers, haters, pitiers. I don't give a fuck. But I don't need your concern and I don't need a fucking lecture, okay?

You'd pay thirty five quid for that on Cameo. The man gulps. I'm sorry, uh I didn't make myself clear. I'm a doctor. I'm concerned about the symptoms your husband is presenting. Sharon blinks. Uh the tremor, the slurred speech they are classic early signs of Parkinson's disease. His words hit her like an avalanche.

An image of Ozzie's face appears in her mind's eye, laughing, loud, alive. But then it's replaced with their exchange that morning. The pause Ozzie took in the middle of his sentence, as if he'd lost the shape of the word, Sharon's throat tightens. It's hard to imagine now that it wouldn't have been obvious to his family, particularly to Sharon. Because of what Ozzy Osborne was like and his speech style and all the drugs he'd done and everything, his behaviour was kind of

permanently wobbly and stilted anyway. So then how do you discern what's Aussie being Aussie and what's something else? Aaron Powell And that deterioration is so gradual often. And so if you're living with somebody who is

Under a lot of stress because you've introduced loads of cameras to the situation. You know, you might not notice those slight changes over time. But you're not gonna look in the mirror in the morning and think, do I look like I've got Parkinsons? I mean he sniffs the dog's arsehole, but like that's normal. He's fine. Is that a symptom of anything? Sharon stumbles back out onto the street. The fans surrounding her now getting short shrift as she returns to her car, headed for home.

An hour later, Sharon tentatively loads a VHS of their latest episode, and watches in horror as Ozzie appears on screen, his forearms shaking, his speech drawling. She's been living with him for so long, she's barely noticed how bad things have become. But watching now, She sees what the doctor saw. She has to get Ozzy checked out. But if she so much hints at the word Parkinson's, he'll spiral. His sobriety is so fragile. A shock like that would turn him straight.

So she's going to arrange for all of them to have a full physical checkup at the physicians. A family outing. Pretend it's something routine. And she just has to hope the diagnosis isn't as bad as she's starting to fear. She watches him on the screen, zoomed up close. slurring and realizes that one wrong move, one and everything could fall apart. Samla jämför upp till 40 långivare så du kan få bästa möjligheter. vill kår för dig. När livet växer finns vi här. Om du behöver oss.

Two weeks later, Trump Tower, New York. Sharon counts down from three as Kelly's hand grips the door to the family's new apartment. The door swings wide to reveal a peach living room, shining marble pillars, gold fittings as far as the eye can see. Sharon smiles. It is tacky. Expensive too. But they can afford it. The success of the Osbornes hasn't just made them money, it's provided all sorts of opportunities. Like Kelly's record deal.

She's here in New York to meet potential producers for her debut album. I'd forgotten about that. I hadn't. Sharon has joined Kelly in New York, like any good manager should. Throwing herself into Kelly's music career. has been just the tonic she needed. She's been driving herself spare, fretting about Ozzie's results. The not knowing has been torture. She looks at the caller ID. Her throat.

Hello, is that Mrs. Osborne? Sharon slips into the bedroom, closes the door quietly behind her, stares out at the New York skyline, and braces herself. Speaking? Hi. We have the results back. I'm afraid I have some difficult news. A chill grips her as she sits on the edge of the bed. Oh God, it's Parkinson's. A silence carries down the line. I'm sorry. My husband It's Parkinson's, isn't it?

Again, silence. Your husband shows some expected physical effects of sustained substance abuse, but otherwise, he's in remarkably good health. Sharon collapses onto the mattress, relief coursing through her. But then a twinge of confusion sets in. So what's difficult? She hears a slow inhale. Your stool sample contained significant traces of blood. Caused by colon cancer. We need to book you in for surgery right away. This is a perfect example of where she is.

looking after the family first and foremost and it doesn't feel like she has any time or brain space to think of her. And then being told something's not right is not pleasant, a cancer diagnosis is big. Without being glib. But you know, you just don't expect it. You've been there. Was it over the phone? No, it was in person. At least there was that. And my wife had to say, Is it cancer? And he went, Yeah. I was like, Oh God. Also say that word, don't make me ask. Oh no. It's not a quiz.

So y yeah. When you're expecting one thing you get another. There is a moment of disbelief until you know how they're gonna deal with it. You're just in limbo. You don't know what your life's gonna be like. As it turns out, for you, fantastic. What a laugh we've had. At your expense mainly. It's provided a lot of material. I did think that at the time I was like Alice is gonna work. And I did when you told me

I thought it's not PC, but I'm delighted. You just said it'll be great for the show. Sharon's lungs heave. Her head feels heavy. This doesn't make any sense. Sharon can't get sick. It's not possible. She has a family to raise, a business to run. It's her husband that's supposed to be ill, not her. Mrs Osborne. Sharon snaps back to the room. Yes, uh of course. Ca can I can I call you back?

Kelly comes bounding in. I've just had the fanciest piss of my life. You should see the Sharon twists her head to face Kelly. Forces a smile. But it's a second too late. Sharon feels her eyelids flutter, the muscles in her lips twitch. Her whole face is on the verge of blurting it out. But she can't burden her baby girl with this news. Not while she's so excited. She blinks back her tears.

I'm okay, darling, just missing your father. Kelly steps towards her, arms outstretched. Sharon lets herself be wrapped up in her daughter's arms and shuts her eyes. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you here, baby. I need to go home.

Six months later, New Year's Eve 2002, Beverly Hills Hotel. Ozzie sits on the edge of the bath, tracing the tiling of his ensuite with his eyes. He knows he promised Sharon he'd do this, but he's starting to have second thoughts. It seems so unlike him. For all he's been a showman all these years, living his life in public, there are still some things he strongly feels should remain private. Things between a man and his wife. Things that are just sacred.

On the other side of the door, he can hear the camera crew getting into position. He inhales. He knows there's no avoiding this, so he might as well get on with it. Ozzie stands, neatens his tie, adjusts his buttonhole. then makes his way downstairs. To the chapel. Stood at the altar, hands clasped awkwardly in front of him, Ozzie turns to his kids for support. Jack, Kelly, and Amy.

The camera crew are having a hell of a time keeping Amy cropped out of shot, but Ozzie was adamant. He wanted her in her rightful place, in the front row, in the heart of the family. Looking out over the room, everything is so close to being perfect. There's just one thing missing. The doors at the back of the room open. Everyone turns, and there she is. glittering in pearls and diamonds. A tiara glistening on her head,

Sharon looks like a fairy tale princess. She had taken his breath away at their first wedding in Maui. But tonight, he's more in love than ever. Her chemotherapy has been brutal. There have been days where he feared she wouldn't pull through, that their vows were doomed to go unrenewed. But the doctors were amazed at how well she responded to treatment. Ozzie wasn't. She's a fighter, she always has been.

In the corner of his vision, he sees the cameras draw towards him, left and right, and he feels a tiny tear well behind his sunglasses. It's not very rock and roll. Being emotional on camera clashes with every aspect of the outrageous, bat biting persona he spent all those years cultivating. A character that almost consumed him completely. But this is the real Ossieosport. And as the woman he loves walks slowly towards him, He doesn't care who sees the water.

All his life, he struggled to strike a balance between fame and family. His demons fed on that failure. And time and time again, he'd let rock and roll take precedence over the people he Against all loss. He's as big a star as he's ever been, and he's completely And it's all thanks to Sharon. He's famous as a family man.

Flashbulbs crack all around them as she takes her place by his side. But all Ozzie can see is her. He leans in to kiss her, and she leans in to kiss him. And as their lips touch to the grooping of the crowd, he realizes. He has everything he's ever wanted.

The Osbornes ran for four series, with storylines following Sharon's cancer treatment, a reconciliation with her estranged father, Don R. Ozzy's near fatal quad bike crash and Kelly's own struggles with substance abuse. In 2020, Aussie revealed he'd been diagnosed with Parkin 2, a rare genetic form of Parkinson's disease. In July 2020,

In 2025, Ozzie and Sharon arranged Ozzie's final gig at Villa Park. Back to the beginning. Performing both as a solo artist and part of the original Black Sabbath lineup, Ozzie raised millions for children's hospitals. hospices and Parkinson's research. Seventeen days later, on July 22, 2025, Ozzie died peacefully at home, surrounded by his family, as Britain mourned their very own. From Audible Originals and Samista. This is the third episode in our series.

Sharon and Ozzy. One of the UK's most... A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases we can't know exactly what we have But all of our dramatizations are based on historical research. If you'd like to know more about You can read I Am Ozzie by Ozzie Osborne. Extreme by Sharon Osborne. Black Sabbath, Symptom of the Universe by Mick Wall, and Off the Rails by Rudy Sarza. British Scandal is hosted by me, Matt. And me, Alice Levine.

Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford, our story editor with the first time. Designed by Rich Evans. For Samistat, our series producer was Chief. Our assistant producer was Louise. Our senior producers were Joe Sykes and Our engineer was producers for Audible were Theodora Leludis.