Spice Girl Standing in Tennessee 21 - 29.2.24

F**king Hell! C**segnalazioni to Tiggy for wanking it. PM me with a subject for next wank please.
Meanwhilst...
2 - Tiggy
1 - Gappy, Me, Otterfox, Alfred Kipper

Next topic: Sci-Fi (chosen by APlate) or Party Games (chosen by Gappy)
Leg closed: 29.2.24
Runners are nowt...
Position Score Name
1 - 5 - Tiggy
2 - 4 - Gappy
3 - 3 - Me
4 - 2 - APlate, Otterfox
5 - 1 - Alfred Kipper

HOLY SHIT

PUB.
TOM and DICK.

TOM Y'know, Dick, I've been thinking...

DICK Good.

TOM Shut up. And I think people should rediscover respect for religion.

DICK Oh, for God's sake...

TOM Exactly.

DICK For the love of God...

TOM Yes.

DICK Christ!

TOM Him, too.

DICK For Christ's sake...

TOM As you said.

DICK Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

TOM Yes, all of them.
DICK Heavens above.

TOM Yes, I can see them there now.

DICK Where the Hell...

TOM No, the other place.

DICK Good Lord.

TOM Yes, He's there.

DICK Oh my God.

TOM He's for everyone.

DICK Lord help us.

TOM He does.

DICK Lord save us.

TOM He will.

DICK Lord almighty.

TOM Yes...

DICK Jesus.

TOM Through Him.

DICK (looks to bar) I need some spirit...

TOM Through Him as well.

DICK Tom...

TOM The doubter...

DICK Thomas!

TOM He certainly was...

DICK Tom. I've been disagreeing with you.

TOM Have you? Well you can f**k off then.

MUSIC PLAYS THEN SUDDENLY STOPS
4: Ha ha, you're out, I win.

1: Congratulations, here's your prize.

4: Ooh, the Beano Annual, thanks!

2: Oh I wanted that.

1: Okay, next game is pin the tail on the donkey.

TEN MINUTES LATER

6: I win.

1: Well done, here's your prize.

6: Ooh, a cuddly Eeyore, thank you.

1: Okay, next game, blind man's bluff.

ONE HOUR LATER

5: I win, I win!

1: Well done, your prize is a ticket to Peppa Pig World.

5: Ooh fab.

1: There's a pair of tickets so I'll come with you. Okay next game, balloon grab - grab as many balloons as you can, and watch out for the exploding ones as they're all filled with water.

POP, POP, BANG, POP, SCREAMS

8: I win, splutter.

1: Ha ha, well done. Your prize, a packet of modelling balloons.

8: Ooh, thanks.

1: Okay, next game, this is a fun one, find the jelly baby in the jelly, and no hands, you have to eat all the jelly to get it.

HALF A MINUTE LATER

1: Ha ha, I win, I win. Yum yum.

2: That's a surprise!

LAUGHS FROM EVERYONE

1: Okay next game, Sardines.

KNOCK, KNOCK, DOOR OPENS

LADY: Ten minutes till your address to the nation, Prime Minister.

1: (COVERED IN JELLY)
Bah, okay. Carry on everyone, I'll be back in a bit. Don't eat all the ice cream.

BLISTER:Good to see the kids having fun. I left them to it.

WEN:Yes. Erm, so...thanks for bringing the pinata.

BLISTER:No problem.

WEN:Course, yeah, but...what, err, is it? I mean, pinatas come in a few shapes, traditionally: birds, hearts, mules very commonly, but I've never seen one in the shape of - what is it?

BLISTER:Il Duce.

WEN: Pardon?

BLISTER:You know. Mussolini. Italian dictator. Thought it would be good for the kids to learn a bit of history.

WEN:Why Mussolini?

BLISTER:Because, obviously, when Mussolini died, they strung him up to a lamp-post and beat him with stuff, as you'll remember.

WEN:I don't.

BLISTER: Seems like you need the history lesson, mate! At least little Chloe will have a better start than her old dad, eh!

WEN:I'm just not sure fascists are the right concept for a pinata.

BLISTER: Pinazi. I call it a pinazi; slightly inaccurate, of course, because Mussolini wasn't German, but close enough.

WEN: Sure. But, names aside, what comes out when you hit Mussolini?

BLISTER:Mussolini. The innards of Mussolini come out.

WEN:I don't think the kids will like that.

BLISTER:Look at them, they're loving it. Check out Bethany, she's going at hammer and tongs.

WEN:Is she beating Mussolini in the head? Oh, no! All this grey stuff came out when she hit it.

BLISTER:Well, at least the brains run on time.

WEN:But where did you even get Mussolini?

BLISTER:Well, it's not really him, it's an out of work actor. He's doing a good job, though. Might ge him more work.

WEN:I don't think he'll be in a position to do any more work.

BLISTER:Role of a lifetime, then. In a sense.

WEN:I'm still not sure about it, but, you're right, the kids seem happy. So, is it time to cut the birthday cake?

BLISTER: Soon - you'll love it, it's in the shape of Ceausescu up against the wall - the blood in the bulletholes is raspberry jam. Tell you what, I'll go and get it, and you set up a nice game of Pin The Icepick On The Trotsky.

I'm just writing an episode of a sci-fi sitcom at the moment. Saving material for that but here's a bit that popped into my head that will absolutely never get in.

CAPTAIN: Let's try that building over there Number 2.

NUMBER 2: Okay Sir.

THEY KNOCK AT THE DOOR AND AN ALIEN CREATURE ANSWERS

BLOOP: Mggfflp!

CAPTAIN: Greetings. Do you speak Earthish?

BLOOP: Mbblmp!

CAPTAIN: Ah, I had thought all Garblings spoke Earthish.

NUMBER 2: I can order a space beer in Garblian but that's about it.

BLOOP: Flobbblep!

BLOOP SWALLOWS WITH A GULP

BLOOP: Can I help you?

NUMBER 2: Great! Did you uncouple your floob glands?

CAPTAIN: Or maybe you de-gurgitate your third neo-lung?

BLOOP: Nah. I just had a mouthful of cum. So are you after the hour, the evening special or the 10 minute quickie?

CAPTION: THE YEAR 2500

A SPACESHIP THE SIZE OF A CAR IS FLYING THROUGH SPACE
CHARACTERS IN THE SPACESHIP: DAD, MUM, SON, MOTHER-IN-LAW. ALL IN FUTURISTIC CLOTHING

SON: Are we there yet?

DAD: Not quite yet, son. Almost.

SON: But we're only going from Milton Keynes to Mars! It never used to take this long.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: Yes, but your father had the bloody stupid idea of buying an Electric Spaceship instead of a Hybrid. So now we have to stop and charge the bloody thing every 10,000 miles.

DAD: Oh, give it a rest, you old bag.

MUM: Don't speak to my mother like that! She was just saying that the technology isn't good enough yet to travel vast distances on an Electric Spaceship. But no, you had to get one just 'cos it's good for the atmosphere.

DAD: There's always an atmosphere when we go on holiday with your bloody mother.

SON: Hey, why don't we play a game? Does anyone know any party games?

DAD: That's a good idea! Then we can do both the Sci-Fi AND Party Games topics in one go!

SON: Eh?

DAD: (chuckles) Never mind, son. Just being a bit 'meta'.

MUM: It's not called 'Meta' anymore, dear. The Zuckerberg Federation changed it back to 'Facebook', like they had in the old days.

DAD: No, I didn't mean that. Never mind. Let's play 'I Spy'.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: I Spy with my little eye, something beginning with...

DAD: Oh, so we don't get to choose who goes first, then? You have to butt in...

MOTHER-IN-LAW: ...Beginning with A...

DAD: Oh, I don't care. Arse. Your big fat arse.

MOTHER-IN-LAW: Seriously, it's getting closer... A...

DAD: What?!

EVERYONE: ASTEROID!!!

CRASH AND EXPLOSION

Ice Outpost Zero.

In the year 1933 creamery employee Ricky Clayton got smacked by a radioactive slug and fell into a vat of milk. Ricky was part of the excess milk that was discarded into a frozen river. This block of frozen milky ice was part of a shipment of ice being transported to the Antarctic to keep it 'topped up'. Two hundred years later Ricky defrosts to a new world.

Santo:
Who are you!?

Ricky:
R-Ricky Clayton. Actually saying it feels wrong.

Santo:
Do you own this letter 'Y'?

Ricky:
I-I believe so. It must have broken off d-during the unfreezing process. Yes, it snapped off my first name. I guess I'm just Rick Clayton from now on. W-where am I?

Santo:
You are 14000 miles away.

Rick:
I see...from what?

Crinto:
From everything. You are in the Antarctic. The last human outpost of the 22nd century. Only two hundred-

Rick:
The 22nd century? What happened to the 21st and the rest of the 20th?

Crinto:
We don't have time...as in the records of your time. We've just run analysis on the milk and you have been frozen for two hundred years.

Santo:
And it's disgusting!

Crinto:
Stop drinking it Santo! We have been invaded by an alien race from the planet Mars. They have been using humans for experiments, like lab rats, lab mice and all types of Guinea pig.

Santo:
They want to have races between us and them above on Mars and we take off from our planet.

Crinto:
Let me clarify. They see strengths in us that they do not have, and want to build a hybrid race, ship us off planet to Mars and help them to defeat their mortal enemy.

Rick:
T-this is too much. Can I be refrozen please?

Santo:
You must listen. They are highly intelligent but lack physical prowess. Their muscles are weak, their bones are brittle, even poor vision. We could do with your help. There are only a few hundred humans left and we launch our mission on Ice Outpost Zero tonight.

Crinto:
Yes, to rescue our team, including the professor, who has plans to rid the invaders for good. You would not just be saving our team but the future of mankind.

Rick:
I suppose I don't have much else on. Could I get one of those snow suits? They look the bees knees and I'm freezing my goolies off here.

FX: trekking through snow.

Crinto:
Rick, how can you move so fast through the snow? How can you see where you're going.

Rick:
I've been frozen in milk for 200 years, I'm used to looking through a white environment. I think the calcium has strengthened my bones, muscles, teeth. I am also seeing much further than I think is reasonably fair. I feel almost superhuman.

Santo:
Well save some of the killing for us!

Rick:
Killing?

Crinto:
It's a worst case scenario really. Santo has an itchy trigger finger and seeing everyone he has ever loved taken hasn't helped. Rick, you are their super soldier.

Rick:
No I'm not! I'm with you guys, I want to help.

Crinto:
Yes, but if they find out about you and your abilities they will want you to do their bidding.

Rick:
I can see the outpost in the distance.

Santo:
Let's duck down behind this extra white snow bank. Rick, why are you holding your hands in front of your eyes as though you're using binoculars?

Rick:
I'm rubbing my eyes. This isn't snow, it's a bank of salt.

Santo:
Exactly. White in a white environment. No better camouflage.
So Crinto, what's the plan?

Crinto:
We go in and sort of rescue them and get out.

Santo:
How did you come up with that...

Crinto:
Remember many humans have been turned, look for the signs.

FX. Corridor footsteps.

Crinto: (whispers)
Nice and quietly. What does that sign say at the end of the corridor?

Rick:
It says: 'to where the humans are being held'.

Santo:
Handy. I still might kill some Martians, just to be safe.

Crinto:
Quick, around this door. I can hear someone coming, duck down behind this bookcase.

Rick:
There's someone coming from the other side.

Crinto:
Ok, behind this towel.

Santo:
We're on a glass floor, look there's people below us.

Crinto:
Right, embroil yourselves in the towel, now roll, roll to the wall. Stop. There's some kind of latch. That's not the door we're interested in, forget about it.

Rick:
Someone's coming from behind us.

Crinto:
Our interest has regained in the latch, ah the door is not locked, let's go inside.

Rick:
We're in a vast hall. There's loads of them! They look like-

Crinto:
No time, that's to be revealed at a later date. Santo, why did you light a match? A fire has begun. Let's take our chances out on the corridors.

Santo:
There's a good few coming straight towards us.

Crinto:
Quick, hide behind this tray of sandwiches. More are coming from the sandwich direction. Now crawl behind this basket of laundry. Now tiptoe along holding the basket. The laundry is fresh. This makes it easier to hide behind.

Rick:
They've gone the other way.

Crinto:
Great the basket phase is at an end. Now to the prison door.

Santo:
Ah, it's locked! Double knotted! We'll never open it now. I'll shoot it!

Crinto:
No! It will draw attention to us.

Rick:
It just looks like laces. I can open it.

Santo: (awe)
The dexterity....oh no, look at these things. They're white plastic holders like you see on new clothes.

Rick:
I can break these.

Santo:
The arms, the arms again. Oh teeth that time. We're in!

Alarm wails.

Rick:
Quick, get the prisoners out of here! I'll hold the door open.

Crinto:
Professor, Grilden, Fantano, Smurba, quick, this way. We're being attacked from this side too.

Santo:
Can I fire now?

Crinto:
Yes, yes, fire at will!

Fx laser gun fire fades in the distance.

Voice:
Well, well, well, Rick Clayton. What a fine specimen you are and it's great to finally meet.

Rick:
You-you're a slug?

Slug leader:
We are highly intelligent slugs from Mars and we have been waiting a long time for your arrival.

Rick:
I only thawed out about a half an hour ago so you weren't waiting that long really.

Slug leader:
We orchestrated this event beginning 200 years ago. Do you remember how you fell into the milk all those years ago?

Rick:
Yes, I was slapped by a radioactive slug.

Slug Leader:
Not just any slug. A Martian slug. We set the wheels in motion centuries ago, knowing that a man encased in milk for two centuries would be our super soldier and ensure victory over our great enemy.

Rick:
I'd love to continue this chat but there's a fire. It's getting fairly bad to be honest.

Slug leader:
This is a poor excuse. A very poor attempt at getting out of this situation. Luckily we do not want you for your brain power. Come with us now and shoot off to Mars and prepare for battle like a good human.

Rick:
Your second in command has just gone up in flames. We've got to go now. Our only option is to jump out the window or we're all doomed!

Slug leader:
Nice try.

Rick:
Look you stupid git! Your whole team are on fire! Your general is after exploding! Your slime is ablaze now. You're going to die!

Slug leader:
Maybe we might jump after all.

Rick:
I'll go first....its nice and soft down here....

Fx: jumping.

Rick;
On the bank of salt.

Fx: melting/wailing.

Rick:
I'd take everything I say with a pinch of salt.

Rick:
Crinto, Santo, wait for me!

Crinto:
After that punchline forget about it. You can make your own way!

Fx. Motors speeding away.

End.

Good stuff everyone! I'll vote Otterfox for his epic futuristic tale! I didn't quite get the bit about the letter Y! But overall, a gripping yarn!

Gappy this wank.

Quote: a plate @ 1st March 2024, 1:48 AM

Good stuff everyone! I'll vote Otterfox for his epic futuristic tale! I didn't quite get the bit about the letter Y! But overall, a gripping yarn!

I'm assuming it was from his name tag on his white lab coat. ? I did wonder more if the Antarctic needed topping up with ice in 1933 like it probably does now, and commercial companies certainly weren't green back then as they purport to being now (for purely commercial gain), however it was just a yarn so licence can be given and all that.

In the absence of any rules on length of entries it gets my vote, it did look like he'd entered the 15,000 metres when all the others had entered the 100 metres, but then one shouldn't be penalised for effort.

Er, yes that's a vote for Fotterox. Ahem.

I really liked a plates ending but the Gap man pips it. Not sure how he made the leap from a piñata to Mussolini but it was worth it.

Quote: a plate @ 1st March 2024, 1:48 AM

Good stuff everyone! I'll vote Otterfox for his epic futuristic tale! I didn't quite get the bit about the letter Y! But overall, a gripping yarn!

It was a bit weird but I'd imagined that his name had been frozen in the ice with him. Now that I have to explain the logic it makes less sense. In my head it wasn't a physical name badge or anything, just his name and a bit broke off in the unfreezing process so the Y was gone forever. Like one would lose a finger but his name, not being a physical thing shouldn't have broken off....thats as good as I can do by way of an explanation.

I always vote for things featuring a Mussolini piñata, so Gappy.

I understood and enjoyed the missing Y in the Fox's, and it was a fun tale. Liked the Monkey and the Plate, but the Tig is getting my vote. Another good week :)