F**king Hell! C**tgtasulazioningd to APlate for winking. PM me with a subject for next wank please. Meanwhilst...
APlate - 2
Gappy, Alfred, Otterfox - 1
Next topic: Secrets (chosen by Gappy)
Leg closed: 25.6.23
Runners are nowt...
Position Score Name
1 6 Me, Otterfox
2 5 APlate
3 4 Alfred, Gappy
Quote: Michael Monkhouse @ 19th June 2023, 2:16 PMF**king Hell! C**tgtasulazioningd to Gappy for winking. y
Just for the record, I didn't win(k) the last round, A Plate did. I won the round before that...although "Truth" wasn't the topic I chose for this next round, so maybe I'm the one who's confused.
This isn't my entry, by the way (unless I can't think of anything, which is entirely feasible).
Yes, working with me is like sex. Anal. F**king shit.
OOPS, TELL A LIE
TOM and DICK in pub, bored...
Suddenly TOM shoots up and DICK jumps.
TOM Hey Dick, wanna play a game?
DICK Sometimes.
TOM No, knob, play the game now.
DICK Never heard of it.
TOM Shut up. Now this game is, in the words of Schopenhauer, just like, totally awesome, dude. It's... Two truths and a lie!
DICK Awesome!... What's that?
TOM Fairly self-explanatory, innit?
DICK Lavatory what?
TOM Shut up. Now you tell me three things, but one's a lie.
DICK I could never lie to you. Lies is bad. And you're my best friend.
TOM (getting exasperated) Well just do it for the sake of the game, all right?
DICK Yes, Tom. Sorry, Tom. Okay: My name is Dick Staines. My surname is Staines. My first name is Ethel.
TOM Make it harder.
DICK Is it a sex game?
TOM Shut up. OK, I'll show you mine.
DICK Is it a...?
TOM Shut - up. Now: I speak Russian. I once stole a leather jacket. I have a pet snake called Tiddles.
DICK Number one!
TOM No, it's...
DICK Number two, then!
TOM NO, it's...
DICK Number three, then! I was right.
TOM Oh, God... You do it to me.
DICK Is it a...?
TOM Just DO IT.
DICK Ok. Um... I used to play the harp. I have an aunt who has travelled all over Stoke. And Paris is the capital of Italy.
TOM I give up.
DICK See? I'm good at this.
TOM I meant... Okay. Last try.
DICK Right. One lie... I can programme an Apple Mac. I had a girlfriend who was a professional boxer. My last job was as a butcher.
TOM Great... OK, number one is true, right?
DICK Yes.
TOM Number two is true, yeah?
DICK Yerse.
TOM So number three...
DICK Is true too.
TOM But you said you were gonna tell a lie.
DICK That was it.
TOM Ah, forget it. You can't play this game.
DICK Sorry. I'll take your mind off it. How about some music?
TOM Yes, anything...
He plays Simon and Garfunkle's 'The Boxer' - Lie, lie, lie. Lie lie lie lie... - as Tom chases him out of the pub.
PRESENTER:
Welcome to this weeks Pocketful of Secrets. And it's this week that we're going to look at the secrets of the solstice...solstices...solstei...the solstices secrets of the solstice.
Certain ancient artefacts reveal to us, just thousands of years later, the level of knowledge that these artefacts actually had. So much so, that the artefacts I speak of are in fact...structures (expecting surprise at his 'revelation').
So there are two solstei, solstices that I know of; winter solstice and summer solstice. As a result I've come to two places at once. The first is the Boyne valley in Co. Meath in Ireland, the site of Newgrange. The second is a site in the Cotswolds known to us as Stonehenge. The buildings are structured thus that the sun shines directly through on a solstice of your choosing. A winter for one, a summer for the other, which is why I've come to both and worn winter woolies and summer shorts all at once.
The ancient people must have had a vast knowledge of people and control over them to convince them to spend so much time erecting these things.
I've delved a little deeper and found out some extra stuff in that delve and the depth I went to get it. Here now are some of my findings...
The solstice was celebrated by ancient peoples such as the Celts. They would jump through fire and burn themselves somewhat in the process I'd say. It's been celebrated by druids and the like even to this day. Wiccans, not to be confused with chickens, also celebrate the solstei by jumping and chanting and hopping and the like. Chickens on the other hand are rarely seen celebrating in this way.
We have it on good authority, direct from the Book of Barely Anything that the ancients celebrated ripa de caca de cucu. Something that no-one knows anything about. In the same book we see the following text written by Druid Cormac. 'And cometh upon the solstice where heaven and earth combine. A dance as old as time but we buildeth structures thanks to the wisdom on the ancients, which are us. The secret of these structures lies in the...
...Oh to be a fly on the wall as he lost attention halfway through his sentence. And so concludes the book of barely anything and this sketch.
End.
TV JOURNO: Good evening, and welcome to this week's edition of The Secrets Of My Success. I'm here with TV's Mr. Safe Hands himself, Frank Bough, one of the BBC's longest serving stalwart TV presenters. Hello Frank, so tell me what are the secrets of your long standing success, so little people like me can learn from them?
FRANK: Well to be honest with you, I just lead a very dull and orderly life in my modest house in Berkshire, that's why I'm still going strong when others have burned themselves out living it up. That's it, nothing sensational, in fact the opposite, just a low key, rather mundane life which enables me to keep going in my long career.
JOURNO: But you must yearn for the trappings of success, well like some of our media colleagues have been known to indulge in.
FRANK: Well I do own a caravan in Morecambe, and go there for the odd weekend.
JOURNO: Well I was thinking of rather more adventurous things others in the industry with less money and fame than you have been associated with, you know, showbiz parties, posh nightclubs, exotic holidays, fast cars. How have you avoided that?
FRANK: Well I'm hardly the type to get invited to showbiz parties and the like am I, and I'm a bit old for nightclubs. As for cars I'm more than happy with my Austin Allegro. I'm sorry to disappoint your viewers but it's no secret that I really am just one of the dullest men on TV, and well that's done alright for me so far, I'm happy with that.
20 MORE MINUTES OF INANE AND DULL CHATTER LATER
JOURNO: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
FX - PHONE CLOCK ALARM GOES OFF
JOURNO: Oh er where am I?
FRANK: [talking the same tedious prattle]
JOURNO: Well Frank, I'm sorry to say that's brought us to the end of our chat here tonight, and I can honestly say I've learnt nothing new about you other than you prefer rich tea biscuits to digestives and have a whole chest of draws for your socks. So, thank you very much for the nap, er the chat, and good luck with the next interminable stretch of your dull TV career.
FRANK: Thank you so much.
AN HOUR LATER
JOURNO: Oh damn, I've left my video camera back at that boring bastard's house. Oh well, it's too late to turn back now, I'll pop back to get it tomorrow.
THE FOLLOWING DAY AFTER PICKING UP THE VIDEO CAMERA AND REVIEWING THE FOOTAGE
JOURNO: Well that was hardly worth going back for, it may be the precious tedium his career is built on but it's hardly going to enhance mine! Oh well...
PUTS VIDEO CAMERA DOWN
FX - NOISES FROM VIDEO CAMERA -Whack!
FRANK: Aaargh.
JOURNO: Hang on, what's this left on here, I must have left the camera rolling.
WATCHES VIDEO OF FRANK IN RED FISHNET TIGHTS AND BRA ON HIS KNEES WITH HIS BOTTOM STICKING OUT, HANDCUFFED TO A TABLE WITH LINES OF WHITE POWDER, GLASSES OF BRANDY AND AN ORANGE ON IT
FX - Whack!
FRANK: Ooh ah, yes. Harder you bitch, harder!
FX - Whacckk, whackkk, whhaaaaaacccckkkkk!!!!!!!
FRANK: Aaaaaargggh yes, yes Oooooh. Okay, I'm ready for Mister Sausage.
FX - BATTERY OPERATED WHIRRING NOISE
JOURNO SITS MOTIONLESS, STARING AT THE CAMERA SCREEN WITH MOUTH WIDE OPEN
KEVIN: Hello, Peter. Been up to anything much recently?
PETER: Um... No, not really, Kevin. Just a small gathering round at Dave's house last night.
KEVIN: A gathering?! Who was there?
PETER: Oh, it was nothing. Just twenty of his closest friends, their partners, and a cat called Marmaduke.
KEVIN: I can't believe it!
PETER: I know. I always thought of Marmaduke as a dog's name. Well, I haven't ALWAYS thought it. I mean, I have spent a bit of time thinking about other subjects, you know.
KEVIN: But I never get invited to Dave's parties. You lot always seem to be doing stuff without me.
PETER: You know what this is an example of, don't you? FOMO!
KEVIN: That's a bit harsh, innit? Getting all homophobic, just 'cos I don't know 'what this is an example of'.
PETER: No, I said 'FOMO'. It means Fear Of Missing Out. You think we're always doing stuff without you and keeping it a secret.
KEVIN: Well, you are!
PETER: But it's not like we all get together under the cover of darkness and say 'make sure that silly sod Kevin doesn't find out about the forthcoming event', and then we all laugh at how f**ken CRAP you are. And then we get a photo of you, right, and we do obscene things to it! And then we laugh at your soiled image.
KEVIN: Well, just stop it! Stop laughing at my soiled image! You're a bunch of bastards, bounders and rotters!
PETER: Ha! Ha! Oops! I suppose you caught me out. Ah well, who cares.
KEVIN: Well, that's where I had you fooled, Peter! Because I've got a secret of my own! I'm a motherf**king superhero, mate! I'm called The Great Gatsby, which is a shit name, but unfortunately we don't get to pick our own superhero names.
PETER: What are you bleating on about?
KEVIN SPINS ROUND QUICKLY AND TURNS INTO A MUSCULAR SUPERHERO WITH A CAPE
PETER: Oh shit! Well, I'm a super villain, then! I'm The Penguin!
PETER SPINS ROUND QUICKLY AND TURNS INTO A LITTLE PENGUIN
KEVIN, AKA THE GREAT GATSBY, KICKS THE PENGUIN INTO A NEARBY RIVER
So it turns out that WAS gappy's entry! Ha! Ha!
Michael Monkhouse for me this week.
Great wank. Alfred for me.
Thank you Michael. Liked yours and A Plate's too but Otterfox gets my commendation.
Very strong ending for Aplate with the superhero twist and being kicked into the river.
Alfred really conveyed the boring presenter very well and it was a very good sketch but I kind of saw it coming.
Michael Monkhouse for me this week. It was consistently funny and the bit about the aunt being to every part of Stoke made my titter out loud so 'Tis Monkhouse for me.
Oh, wank the spaniel! I wrote an entry for this week, but clearly forgot to actually paste it into here! It's the first skit comp I've missed since I started about 8 years ago 
But still, I'll vote so I'm not a complete useless bollock, and my vote goes to Monkey Mikehouse.