Skit Comp 15 - 23.9.16

Cool onions so congratulations to LEE for winking. Your prize is to PM me with a subject for next wank please. I am generous.
Hence:

Votes - Points - Name
2 - 10 - Lee
1 - 5 - Frankie Rage, Tiggy, Gappy
Speckled mention: Craig Hosie, me

Your next subject is CURRENT AFFAIRS.
Rules:
One entry/vote per person. Anyone can enter regardless of colour, sexual preferences or inside leg measurement, except Italo-US mongeese.
Can be a sketch, joke, lyric or anything else as long as it's yours and vaguely linked to the topic. Please try to post just your entry/vote.
You can edit your entry as much as you want, up until the closing time.

Competition closes: 23.9.16

Scoreboard is now:
Position - Points - Name
1 - 35 - Gappy
2 - 20 - Lee
3 - 10 - 404 Not Found
4 - 5 - Frankie Rage, Tiggy, me

THREE EXCELLENT ENTRIES SO FAR BUT WE COULD DO WITH A FEW MORE CONTESTANTS!!!

Talking about CURRENT Affairs, did you hear the one about the two male Power Stations discussing the merits of a female Electricity Pylon?

1st male: Cor, have you seen that, what a pair of struts!

2nd male: Yeah, and they go right up to her conductor! I wonder if she wears suspension insulators?

1st male: Bound to, do you reckon we've got any chance of getting our juice into it?

2nd male: No way, mate she's all over that Hinkley Point!

1st male: Why so?

2nd male: Because he's so big and a long time coming...

I just heard ISIS isn't their real name: that woud be too hard for Europeans and Americans to pronounce, so they simplified it for us. Aren't they nice? It's the sweetest, cutest thing I ever heard. OK, they did kill an estimated 800 between July 1 - 8 2016 alone, but this simply darling gesture kind of makes up for it. Look for the good in people... Loves yer, babes!
I think Muslims bombing people just for having different opinions is wrong. It's called Jihad, which is Muslim for 'bombing people just for having different opinions'. It is bad. Imagine I'm conversing with Stephen Hawkins via Skype on who's the best Spice Girl. I of course say Mel C because talented and good and trains; he counters, Geri - cos - tits. I press, Mel C because down-to-earth and respectfuls at fan and trained; he counters, Geri - cos - tits. I conclude, Mel C because charity working and live sings and pretty; he counters, Geri - cos - tits. At no point does Stevie use his considerable grasp of physics to bomb me just for having different opinions; I myself 'agree to disagree', which is an English expression for 'not bombing people just for having different opinions'. Bombing people just for having different opinions sucks!

KID: Great show tonight, Mr Bisson, you really read that news.

BISSON: Oh yeah? Well, no thanks to you, kid.

KID: What's wrong, sir?

BISSON: What's wrong, he says! Hey, I know you're new to this current affairs broadcast caper, but let me tell you one thing that can kill a red hot bulletin stone dead: wonky paper.

KID: Sorry, Mr Bisson?

BISSON: The paper. The paper on my desk. The desk paper. It was wonky. I mean, Godammit, kid, it's come to something when a professional studio broadcaster has to straighten his own paper in the middle of the news. In the middle of the sodding news! On-air paper straightening - I could have died.

KID: I'm sure nobody noticed.

BISSON: Nobody noticed? They'd have to be blind, deaf and...inattentive not to have seen it. Pow pow pow, papers on the desk, desperate to get that hotch-potch into anything resembling a rectangle, every collision like a gunshot to my heart.

KAREN: Hi, Mike.

BISSON: Oh, hi, Karen. Nice work tonight, I really liked the professional way you delivered the word "Nicaragua".

KAREN: Yeah, peachy, Mike, but geographical elocution aside, have you been speaking to this little shit about the cataclysm of a show tonight?

BISSON: Just what I was in the middle of, Karen. If I said it once, I said it a hundred times: I require rectilinear sheaves, not this A4 sandstorm that engulfed me tonight. I'm a professional, godammit!

KAREN: The paper? Oh, God, Mike, that desk paper was the least of our troubles.

BISSON: Was yours straight, then?

KAREN: Christ, no, it was like a shitting jumble sale on there. But that's peanuts compared to the bit when they turned the lights out before the end of the show. Hey, shrimp, how'd you think that looked, Mike and me sitting in darkness like a couple of radishes? Tell me, because I'd love to know, is this ITN or is it...some smaller, less professional news broadcasting outfit...probably with a narrower remit? Hmmm?

KID: I'm sorry Miss Trancher, I made a mistake.

KAREN: Oh, he made a mistake! So, that's alright then, nobody needs to worry about the fact that I sat there in dingy silhouette like a kiddy-fiddling beanspiller ina Panorama truthsluice!

BISSON: It was pitch bloody black! I could hardly see to straighten my paper: probably made it slightly worse, if anything. Darkness, you twatnut! That's the opposite of news!

KID: I'm sorry, really I-

BISSON: Save it, kid, you're fired - go on, sling your hook. I'll see that you stay unemployed in this business until at least the end of the 90s!

KAREN: You know, Mike, at times like this I dream of a time when newsreaders sit on their desks, not behind them, and don't even have any blank sheets of paper. A glistening future when anchormen stalk around the room pointing at colourful shapes instead of delivering hard facts, and editorials replace headlines altogether.

BISSON: Good God, steady on there, Karen, that's fantasy talk.

KAREN: Yeah, I guess. What say you and me go grab a couple of Tia Marias and slag the BBC?

BISSON: Oh yeeeahh.

Gappy.
This contest is the opposite of my mother. No one enters.

Close as all hell, but Frankie, I think.

Gaps!

I'll go with Michael Monkhouse - cos - tits

Special mention Gappy for undeniable eloquence.