*Gwrrr....*

Suddenly Boz's stomach rambled.

*Gwrrr....*

Suddenly Boz's stomach rambled.


...and seeing as Jesse now qualifed as roadkill....

...and seeing as Jesse now qualifed as roadkill....

Morrissey saw his chance to elbow in front of that blasted little Star Wars girl and her silly shoes in the race to become PETA's Vegetarian Of The Millenium!

He snapped his fingers and another crouching minion brought the phone, and he rang Ingrid at PETA to see if she could send the Carcass Cart to scrape Jessie off the road and rush him to their lab so his body could be used to culture PETA's fab new meat substitute!

Morrissey saw his chance to elbow in front of that blasted little Star Wars girl and her silly shoes in the race to become PETA's Vegetarian Of The Millenium!

He snapped his fingers and another crouching minion brought the phone, and he rang Ingrid at PETA to see if she could send the Carcass Cart to scrape Jessie off the road and rush him to their lab so his body could be used to culture PETA's fab new meat substitute!

The Carcass Cart chugged off down the street, the driver wilfully unheeding of Jesse's protests that he wasn't actually dead yet. Alas, Jessie wasn't a small, fluffy animal (whatever Gary's somewhat idiosyncratic cartoons on the tourbus loo walls might lead one to believe), so no-one gave a damn.

Uncleskinny sneaked along behind the Carcass Cart, hoping to to slip into the PETA laboratory, so he could tell everyone he'd been inside next time he got a bit uppity at someone's well-intentioned comment. :p

Alain peered out from behind a tree and smirked...

The Carcass Cart chugged off down the street, the driver wilfully unheeding of Jesse's protests that he wasn't actually dead yet. Alas, Jessie wasn't a small, fluffy animal (whatever Gary's somewhat idiosyncratic cartoons on the tourbus loo walls might lead one to believe), so no-one gave a damn.

Uncleskinny sneaked along behind the Carcass Cart, hoping to to slip into the PETA laboratory, so he could tell everyone he'd been inside next time he got a bit uppity at someone's well-intentioned comment. :p

Alain peered out from behind a tree and smirked...


"Did you see what Skinny hide in the cart?"

"Did you see what Skinny hide in the cart?"

"Was it a forged death certificate made out for Kuiper? If so, cross out his name and put Jesse's in there."

"Okay. how do you spell Jesse"

"N...R...I...T...H" said Dave.

"Was it a forged death certificate made out for Kuiper? If so, cross out his name and put Jesse's in there."

"Okay. how do you spell Jesse"

"N...R...I...T...H" said Dave.


"But it's for chicken substitute soup for the Morrissey soul!!"
iamkali62 shouted.

"But it's for chicken substitute soup for the Morrissey soul!!"
iamkali62 shouted.

"Who are you calling chicken?" quacked Francis.

"Who are you calling chicken?" quacked Francis.

(Errr...who is Francis? :confused:)


On the other side of the planet, HIM was searching for a remedy of world epidemic of dry skin.

(Errr...who is Francis? :confused:)


On the other side of the planet, HIM was searching for a remedy of world epidemic of dry skin.

Francis is Boz's (fictional and under-age) rubber duck. You have to read the story from the beginning. :rolleyes:


Normally, there'd be enough oil on Jesse to alleviate the problem in a jiffy, but Jesse had been wrongly pronounced dead and misidentified as NRitH on the back of the PETA Carcass Wagon. HIM wracked his brain for an alternative. Just then, Elvis appeared from nowhere and....

Francis is Boz's (fictional and under-age) rubber duck. You have to read the story from the beginning. :rolleyes:


Normally, there'd be enough oil on Jesse to alleviate the problem in a jiffy, but Jesse had been wrongly pronounced dead and misidentified as NRitH on the back of the PETA Carcass Wagon. HIM wracked his brain for an alternative. Just then, Elvis appeared from nowhere and....


Started squeezing fatty milk from one of his moobs.

"Try this", Elvis handed a bowl to HIM.

Started squeezing fatty milk from one of his moobs.

"Try this", Elvis handed a bowl to HIM.

Hattie, who'd until then been sitting quietly on the floor painting pink pay protest placards for poor pedagogues, said sharply, "Elvis! You might be the king of rock-n-roll elsewhere, but when you're in here you abide by my rules! We do not drink milk from bowls! Into the kitchen and get yourself a proper cup, now!"

A chastened Elvis loped off resignedly as HIM suddenly brightened. "Hattie! Imagine how much lint he's got in his bellybutton! You'll be able to make our Cornelius that pair of socks for his birthday!"

Hattie, who'd until then been sitting quietly on the floor painting pink pay protest placards for poor pedagogues, said sharply, "Elvis! You might be the king of rock-n-roll elsewhere, but when you're in here you abide by my rules! We do not drink milk from bowls! Into the kitchen and get yourself a proper cup, now!"

A chastened Elvis loped off resignedly as HIM suddenly brightened. "Hattie! Imagine how much lint he's got in his bellybutton! You'll be able to make our Cornelius that pair of socks for his birthday!"

Then Elvis ran back into hattie's sitting room, his moob-product in a lidded tupperware cup, shaking it about.

"What on earth are you doing. Elvis?" enquired hattie, tiredly.

"I'm turning it into butter so HIM can cure the dry skin epidemic with it. 'Cause I'm a hunk-a-hunk-a-churnin' love!" quipped Elvis.

Hattie gave him 100 lines and sent him to stand in the Naughty Corner.

Then Elvis ran back into hattie's sitting room, his moob-product in a lidded tupperware cup, shaking it about.

"What on earth are you doing. Elvis?" enquired hattie, tiredly.

"I'm turning it into butter so HIM can cure the dry skin epidemic with it. 'Cause I'm a hunk-a-hunk-a-churnin' love!" quipped Elvis.

Hattie gave him 100 lines and sent him to stand in the Naughty Corner.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world Morrissey utters an oath as it dawns that he's again forgotten to remove his jewelery before tanning. Mistaking the epithet as a summons, a minion approaches.

"Yes, Sir?"

"You! Thing!," says Moz with a halfhearted wave of his now golden hand, "Ready my toast and pull the blinds! It's time for Citizen Kane!"

Meanwhile, halfway across the world Morrissey utters an oath as it dawns that he's again forgotten to remove his jewelery before tanning. Mistaking the epithet as a summons, a minion approaches.

"Yes, Sir?"

"You! Thing!," says Moz with a halfhearted wave of his now golden hand, "Ready my toast and pull the blinds! It's time for Citizen Kane!"

Thing from the Addams Family heard its name and came scampering on excited fingertips and saw...... Morrissey's golden, bling-laden hand, wafting about imperiously to the rhythm of its owner's dictat! It (not Cousin It - he was elsewhere)...it...... was LOVE!

My God! I think my eyes have just exploded!

Mr. Boorer did not have time to hear who the caller was, for the door had suddenly been kicked open. Chris Hansen brazenly walked into the room, gave Mr. Boorer a sinister look, and said, "I'm Chris Hansen. What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?!" said Mr. Boorer. "This is my house!"

"Mr. Boorer, do you know that Francis is in an underage duck?"

"We were just bathing, honestly!" exclaimed Mr. Boorer. "There is nothing wrong with that!"

The giant rubber duck gasped.

"Is this true, Francis?" asked Chris Hansen.

Francis looked at the floor....
HAHA, I just had to giggle at the mention of Chris Hansen from Dateline! Good one.:D It'd be hilarious to make up a story where all of us are hunched over our PC's, on Solo, and Chris Hansen waltzes in, trying to get us to admit we're pervy and on Solo. Go on.

HAHA, I just had to giggle at the mention of Chris Hansen from Dateline! Good one.:D It'd be hilarious to make up a story where all of us are hunched over our PC's, on Solo, and Chris Hansen waltzes in, trying to get us to admit we're pervy and on Solo. Go on.

You want it, you write it! It's a free-for-all - in an alternative dimension, that is.... ;)

Thing from the Addams Family heard its name and came scampering on excited fingertips and saw...... Morrissey's golden, bling-laden hand, wafting about imperiously to the rhythm of its owner's dictat! It (not Cousin It - he was elsewhere)...it...... was LOVE!

Thing obediently drawn the curtains closed and clicked on the vintage film projector, rumored to have been used by Edison for stag reels shown at his many candlelit supper parties.

The room was silent and thick with the scent of Sunday Mass before Vatican II. Thing layed still on his Master's lap while Moz gazed upon the flickering images projected on the screen.

Yet, Thing's mind was restless and consumed with thought. How was he to tell his Master of his burning passion? How he longed for his Master to bejewel him with items of luxury. How could he concentrate on the movie when the object of his affection was only inches away. Did he dare to reach for the zipper that kept the very treasure he longed to embrace?

Thing gained his composure and lifted his longest digit an with a mighty stretch, he...

Thing obediently drawn the curtains closed and clicked on the vintage film projector, rumored to have been used by Edison for stag reels shown at his many candlelit supper parties.

The room was silent and thick with the scent of Sunday Mass before Vatican II. Thing layed still on his Master's lap while Moz gazed upon the flickering images projected on the screen.

Yet, Thing's mind was restless and consumed with thought. How was he to tell his Master of his burning passion? How he longed for his Master to bejewel him with items of luxury. How could he concentrate on the movie when the object of his affection was only inches away. Did he dare to reach for the zipper that kept the very treasure he longed to embrace?

Thing gained his composure and lifted his longest digit an with a mighty stretch, he...

froze suddenly at the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall...the thickly carpeted hall! :eek: Thing's hair stood on end, which is a sight to see, I can assure you. The Master was in danger! Thing must protect him!

Thing left the Master's lap, careful not to disturb him and began shimmying commando-style across the floor towards the door. He he was only halfway there when he noticed that the knob had began to move! Thing's blood raced as the door squeaked open!

And there, shrouded in a Stygian mist, stood the haunted boots of Oliver Cromwell! :eek:

froze suddenly at the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall...the thickly carpeted hall! :eek: Thing's hair stood on end, which is a sight to see, I can assure you. The Master was in danger! Thing must protect him!

Thing left the Master's lap, careful not to disturb him and began shimmying commando-style across the floor towards the door. He he was only halfway there when he noticed that the knob had began to move! Thing's blood raced as the door squeaked open!

And there, shrouded in a Stygian mist, stood the haunted boots of Oliver Cromwell! :eek:

Thing ducked down into the heavy pink shag-pile for camouflage, while he took in the vision that confronted him. How would he protect Morrissey? (And in particular, how would he protect Morrissey's mike-whipping hand, the smooth, non-work-roughened fingers of which he yearned to feel intertwined between his own, athletic digits...? *ahem*)

Thumb raised like a scorpion's tail, Thing stalked boldly stalked over to the nearest boot and peered inside. "Is anyone home?" he asked, his cuticles all-a-tremble.

Thing ducked down into the heavy pink shag-pile for camouflage, while he took in the vision that confronted him. How would he protect Morrissey? (And in particular, how would he protect Morrissey's mike-whipping hand, the smooth, non-work-roughened fingers of which he yearned to feel intertwined between his own, athletic digits...? *ahem*)

Thumb raised like a scorpion's tail, Thing stalked boldly stalked over to the nearest boot and peered inside. "Is anyone home?" he asked, his cuticles all-a-tremble.

"It's me, Shakin' Stevens!" came the reply. "There I was, leant up against a green door, earwigging on what was going on apart from an old piano being played hot and suddenly I fell inside and ended up here. Boyo."

"It's me, Shakin' Stevens!" came the reply. "There I was, leant up against a green door, earwigging on what was going on apart from an old piano being played hot and suddenly I fell inside and ended up here. Boyo."


"Errr...what time will you be on stage at Glastonbury?" asked Maurice E.

"Errr...what time will you be on stage at Glastonbury?" asked Maurice E.

Shaky waggled one leg (in an Elvis-like manner that made Thing come over all tingly and Welsh and think "There's lovely!") "A little later than scheduled, if you'll give a fellow a hand to bump off Jay-Z and get me further up the billing." Shaky said, discreetly comparing his quiff to that of the Maurice.

"Boz, stop strangling Jesse and go help Shaky do in that pesky rapper chappy, will you?"

"Diolch yn fawr!" accorded Shaky, and trailed off after Boz.

Thing wondered what was inside the other boot.....

Shaky waggled one leg (in an Elvis-like manner that made Thing come over all tingly and Welsh and think "There's lovely!") "A little later than scheduled, if you'll give a fellow a hand to bump off Jay-Z and get me further up the billing." Shaky said, discreetly comparing his quiff to that of the Maurice.

"Boz, stop strangling Jesse and go help Shaky do in that pesky rapper chappy, will you?"

"Diolch yn fawr!" accorded Shaky, and trailed off after Boz.

Thing wondered what was inside the other boot.....


*Mmmm...I thought Gaz damped Jesse's body at swamp few pages ago?
Oh, never mind.*


"OK, I'll get Hellie to give blow job to Jay-Z that'll do to bump you high up"
Maurice cheerfully replied.

In a meanwhile, at a shoe factory in Costa Rica...

In a meanwhile, at a shoe factory in Costa Rica...

....someone had noticed that Axl Rose was missing from his usual place in the tool-rack.

....someone had noticed that Axl Rose was missing from his usual place in the tool-rack.


"Slash, where is Izzy? The sod stole my knife!!"

"...Er, you are holding it on your left hand, just stubbed Jesse without reason."

"Slash, where is Izzy? The sod stole my knife!!"

"...Er, you are holding it on your left hand, just stubbed Jesse without reason."


"Nobody stabs Jesse without reason." sneered Axl, positioning himself downwind of the air conditioning fan so his kilt would sway in the breeze. For once, no one wanted to stick his head in a trouser press. (Which was just as well, as, being kilted, he hadn't brought one with him.)

"Nobody stabs Jesse without reason." sneered Axl, positioning himself downwind of the air conditioning fan so his kilt would sway in the breeze. For once, no one wanted to stick his head in a trouser press. (Which was just as well, as, being kilted, he hadn't brought one with him.)


They noticed someone was peeking behind the doors.

"Izzy, is that you? Come out now!"


The door slowly opened, Sarah Paline entered the locker room with glaring eyes.
"Hi guys" her voice was trembling with excitement.

They noticed someone was peeking behind the doors.

"Izzy, is that you? Come out now!"


The door slowly opened, Sarah Paline entered the locker room with glaring eyes.
"Hi guys" her voice was trembling with excitement.

'I have killed Izzy, and I'm your new replacement, errr, whatever he was!' She smiled a demonic smile.
'But you suck! We don't want you in our band, doing whatever Izzy did!' cried Axl Rose.
'Then you shall DIE! DIE! DIE!' Sarah Palin grabbed a soldering iron and melted the whole of Guns 'n' Roses. Tosca, a poor middle-aged woman who put the plastic ends on the ends of the shoe laces in this particular shoe factory, decided to alert the coke-baron owner, who was none other than...

'I have killed Izzy, and I'm your new replacement, errr, whatever he was!' She smiled a demonic smile.
'But you suck! We don't want you in our band, doing whatever Izzy did!' cried Axl Rose.
'Then you shall DIE! DIE! DIE!' Sarah Palin grabbed a soldering iron and melted the whole of Guns 'n' Roses. Tosca, a poor middle-aged woman who put the plastic ends on the ends of the shoe laces in this particular shoe factory, decided to alert the coke-baron owner, who was none other than...


Buzzetta who was actually watching the whole incident in his room where filled with CCTV monitors.

'Uh, silly woman who can't control her ego'

Buzzetta who was actually watching the whole incident in his room where filled with CCTV monitors.

'Uh, silly woman who can't control her ego'


*BANG!*

Buzzetta ducked Palin's rifle bullet in the nick of time.

Gary had an idea....

*BANG!*

Buzzetta ducked Palin's rifle bullet in the nick of time.

Gary had an idea....

He knew that Sarah Palin's weakness was her strict Christianity. So he suspended a crucifix in a vat of petrol, and, using his amazing ventriloquist skills, said, ''Elp me Sarah! It's Jeezus, and I need you to save me!'
'But Jesus, I mean, Mr. Christ,' Ms. Palin gushed, 'Can't you just walk on top of the gasoline?'
'Nah, only water, luv. Are you gonna 'elp me or what?'
Ms. Palin, the Jesus lover she was, rushed to help him. She swam through the thick, dark, smelly liquid and rescued him.
'Now, jus' put me up on that wall over there, luv, where there's that massive fire.'
Yet again, Ms. Palin simply couldn't say no to Jesus Christ, and I mean the Jesus Christ, so into the fire she stepped, and burrrrrrned to ashes.

Meanwhile in a warehouse in Somerset, Mr. Brazier was trying to fix his ring. The triangle design had fallen out, and he wanted to replace it with...

Meanwhile in a warehouse in Somerset, Mr. Brazier was trying to fix his ring. The triangle design had fallen out, and he wanted to replace it with...

...a frieze depicting a trio of moose doing a triumphal stomp over the ashes of Mrs Palin.

...a frieze depicting a trio of moose doing a triumphal stomp over the ashes of Mrs Palin.

'Hail Satan!' cried Mr. Brazier, for this moose carried a pentacle.
'Why yes, Mr. Brazier, whatever can I do for you?' Right next to Mr. Brazier had appeared a demon. Mr. Brazier gasped.
'I don't believe it! Who are you?'
'I, Mr. Brazier, am...'

'Hail Satan!' cried Mr. Brazier, for this moose carried a pentacle.
'Why yes, Mr. Brazier, whatever can I do for you?' Right next to Mr. Brazier had appeared a demon. Mr. Brazier gasped.
'I don't believe it! Who are you?'
'I, Mr. Brazier, am...'


...here to sue for 25% of the royalties from this thread!"

...here to sue for 25% of the royalties from this thread!"

'You're not Mike Joyce, are you?' Mr. Brazier said disappointedly.

'You're not Mike Joyce, are you?' Mr. Brazier said disappointedly.

The demon glanced down at the drumsticks stuck in its forehooves and hid them behind its back. "Mike who?" it asked, innocently. "And who are you to even ask that question?" It was a fair enough enquiry; no-one else reading knew who Mr Brazier was, except perhaps Franzanna, who'd posted and then buggered of without explaining.

"I..." began Mystery Brazier...." I am....."

"..a half decent hors d'œuvre." finished Gary Day, bopping Brazier on the head with a shovel.

The demon glanced down at the drumsticks stuck in its forehooves and hid them behind its back. "Mike who?" it asked, innocently. "And who are you to even ask that question?" It was a fair enough enquiry; no-one else reading knew who Mr Brazier was, except perhaps Franzanna, who'd posted and then buggered of without explaining.

"I..." began Mystery Brazier...." I am....."

"..a half decent hors d'œuvre." finished Gary Day, bopping Brazier on the head with a shovel.

'Awwww, Gaz, nah, leave 'im.' Alain Whyte appeared in the doorway. 'We've already got one a Sarah Palin's friends for dinner, you'll spoil yer appetite if you eat 'im.'
Mr. Brazier scampered back to the Technology block of Franzanna's school (for he was one of her teachers) and worked on creating a crash helmet for himself in case Gary Day bopped him on the head again.
Back at the warehouse in Somerset...

I only didn't explain who Mr. Brazier was because I thought you weren't allowed to make two posts in a row in this thread. :o

'Awwww, Gaz, nah, leave 'im.' Alain Whyte appeared in the doorway. 'We've already got one a Sarah Palin's friends for dinner, you'll spoil yer appetite if you eat 'im.'
Mr. Brazier scampered back to the Technology block of Franzanna's school (for he was one of her teachers) and worked on creating a crash helmet for himself in case Gary Day bopped him on the head again.
Back at the warehouse in Somerset...

I only didn't explain who Mr. Brazier was because I thought you weren't allowed to make two posts in a row in this thread. :o

...Franzanna was waiting impatiently for someone to reply to her post.

'It's been bloody days since anyone replied!' she sobbed. 'Why does nobody love me? Wahhhh!'

All of a sudden...

...Franzanna was waiting impatiently for someone to reply to her post.

'It's been bloody days since anyone replied!' she sobbed. 'Why does nobody love me? Wahhhh!'

All of a sudden...

..Gary Day popped up, wearing a bloodied apron. " I love ya, girlie," he leered, wiping a chopper on his pinny. "now, 'ow'sabout you 'elping me drag this stiff down the incinerator?"

..Gary Day popped up, wearing a bloodied apron. " I love ya, girlie," he leered, wiping a chopper on his pinny. "now, 'ow'sabout you 'elping me drag this stiff down the incinerator?"

'Oh dear!' cried Franzanna. 'That corpse looks remarkably like Mr. Brazier.'

'Yeah, well, it ain't 'im!' Gary Day said testily. 'If ya must know, it's Mark Nevin.'

'Why did you kill him?' Franzanna cocked her head, inspecting the body.

'I didn't kill 'im, 'e did.' Gary jerked an index finger to his left, towards...

'Yeah, well, it ain't 'im!' Gary Day said testily. 'If ya must know, it's Mark Nevin.'

'Why did you kill him?' Franzanna cocked her head, inspecting the body.

'I didn't kill 'im, 'e did.' Gary jerked an index finger to his left, towards...

Chris Hansen, whoever he is.

Chris Hansen, whoever he is.

'Hi, I'm Chris Hansen, who are you?'

'Hello! I'm Franzi, and this is Gary Day,' Franzi beamed.

'Uh-oh!' cried Chris Hansen. 'You look underage!'

'Yeah, well, we ain't done nuffink!' Gary protested. 'Really. Nuffink.'

'That's what Boz said about him and Francis. Now to bring in Franzi's mother!'

'Hi, I'm Chris Hansen, who are you?'

'Hello! I'm Franzi, and this is Gary Day,' Franzi beamed.

'Uh-oh!' cried Chris Hansen. 'You look underage!'

'Yeah, well, we ain't done nuffink!' Gary protested. 'Really. Nuffink.'

'That's what Boz said about him and Francis. Now to bring in Franzi's mother!'

...who, unlike Jolene, wasn't a six foot rubber duck, but a.....

...who, unlike Jolene, wasn't a six foot rubber duck, but a.....

Cake-making half-belorussian woman who lived on a council estate. As it happened, she was quite used to Franzi bringing home 'older lads' *wink wink, nudge nudge*, although Gary scared her slightly, because upon his head there was...

upon his head there was...unbeknown (sp?) to Gary, a very small, but perfectly formed little man.
The cake-making half-belorussian woman spied her find with airy suspicious as she wondered which member of Morrissey's entourage this would be....

upon his head there was...unbeknown (sp?) to Gary, a very small, but perfectly formed little man.
The cake-making half-belorussian woman spied her find with airy suspicious as she wondered which member of Morrissey's entourage this would be....

It was none other than his personal toenail clipper!

'Pablo!' Franzi's mother cried, 'Have you come for your daughter's wedding cake?'

'Si señora,' he answered, 'she is marrying...'