The Danger of Proverbs 2! (Blog 100, Ultra Blog 1)

My 100th blog and my first 10,000 word (approx) ultra blog. But what do I write about? Not music certainly, that’s one of the many subjects that have been done by me, to put it mildly. I even have a whole section of my site devoted to CD reviews. I’m not saying my critiques are in depth, thoughtful or even informative but the point is, I know when enough is enough. Again, sometimes I don’t CARE if enough is enough but in this case, in this special mega hyper journal, it’s time to do something daring. How about me evaluating my favourite UK comedy serieses? Wouldn’t that be insane? ‘Hey, why just from the UK?’ Because British sitcoms are better than American ones, that’s why! Sorry for the arrogance, the USA have the best cartoons. Be happy with that. And Scrubs, to be fair. Be happy with Scrubs, too. Sooo…. here’s my tenth fave. (As indicated by the number ’10’. Nice and sane, right?)

10th: Porridge

Is prison funny? In there, you notoriously get violence, monotony, poor food and little hope. (Kind of like in any heavily populated area). That doesn’t sound funny to me, yet Ronnie Barker and co. make it so in Porridge. Ok, in the program no one gets beaten with bricks or has boiling water poured onto their faces, (good luck with making THAT amusing) but still, there is always the risk of that stuff happening. Who knows, maybe the main character could make a shank out of a plastic chair and stab the warden after telling him to ’naff off’ in his characteristic, carefree way. A bit dark, I know but TV is often based on surprises. On the subject of the unexpected, a more extreme idea of mine is for James Bond characters to turn into ducks at completely random times. (E.g., after firing a missile at a bad guy, or whatever). The cheesy pun could be ‘that’s quackers!’ It’s not exactly meant to be thought-provoking, the idea is just to screw with people. But again, I can’t see anyone ever taking that seriously. I guess it’s down to me to write about that kind of stuff.

An excellent summary of a classic television show. You want to know what the 9th best comedy is? Of course not, you’re most likely bored out of your mind and need something completely different. How about the introduction of my The Danger of Proverbs sequel? Well… Here it is… Oh yeah, and if you read something in brackets with ‘- Simon’ in them, that means I’m taking a very short break from my story and have cut back to this present(ish) time. So here goes….

…

Hey, hey! Remember BEN? (He was the narrator in TDoP 1 - Simon). Well here I am. Maybe you didn't check out the book preceding this? If not, not a problem; all will be explained soon, enough.

To set the scene, I'm going to try and build an image of central London in your head. It is a hot Summer's morning. Happy TOURISTS are walking the historic streets, thinking they are lucky to be there. They aren't. Go to any city in England and indeed most in the world, and the surroundings will look more or less exactly the same. Ok true, London has The Houses of Parliament and a massive ride, called 'The London Eye'. It looks impressive, but in reality it only travels at 0.6 miles an hour. That technically makes it more boring than the journey to it, in the first place. Go to Thorpe Park, and you can go on a roller coaster that does 0 to 80 miles an hour in less than two seconds. They call it 'Stealth'. Yep, 'Stealth'. Why? No reason whatsoever.

I know, I know. Of course from the London Eye you get a large view of the city that many find desirable. BUT you can get equally impressive views from a hill for free, and without the risk of getting stabbed. Let's just think logically for a second, eh? Zooming past a couple of miles of delusional VISITORS and CHILDREN, we reach the flat complex of MRS. CARTY; an expensive design layered with glass from top to bottom. Nice. However, nearby is 'The Gherkin'. A very out of place building, indeed. The so called pickled cucumber totally ignores the surrounding aesthetics. A vegetable shaped design, surrounded by angular flats and skyscrapers? It's not so different from a soup stain on a brand new, white dinner jacket. What I have just spoken about aren't strange and isolated cases; the whole world is insane. Don't believe me? Read on.

P.S. My work is done, now. A new narrator will be taking over from me. Why? To keep things interesting. This book may be a sacred document, but it’s also designed to reach a mass audience and enlighten as many people as possible. To do that, it needs to be entertaining.

Bored again? Let’s review another show…

9th: Red Dwarf

My God the special effects in this were terrible in the first few serieses. However, I was so young at the time of watching them, I didn’t even notice at first. Children are idiots, aren’t they? Anyway, if the tacky props were an issue, the superb stories that were both funny and different made things all better whilst inspiring people at the same time. I want to fly a spaceship. Later episodes were somewhat forgettable with their lack of curry monsters but they weren’t bad, I guess. Luckily the theme tune of the show never changed, as it’s pretty epic with its distorted, wailing guitars. And ‘smeg head’? What an insult for the characters to use! However, if you want true first class God mode put downs, you will have to wait. Alright, here’s more of my book. This time it’s properly started…

INT: MRS. CARTY'S DINING ROOM, LONDON - MORNING

This room is in a posh London flat. As it is very high up, the views out of the windows are extensive. Many tourist attractions can be seen. As was explained, not all of them pleasing to the eye. The room itself has a beechwood floor and a glass table with a selection of biscuits on it, including jammy dodgers. Surrounding the table are a few wooden chairs. On the walls not facing the outside, are several full bookcases. There is one door. MRS. CARTY is sitting with her friend, JULIA. The two are leaning towards each other with interest.

MRS. CARTY is 36 years old. She has long brown hair on her intelligent, unemotional face. She wears old fashioned, flowery dresses and big glasses.

JULIA is a slightly overweight 30 year old. She is 5 foot tall with short blonde hair and wears expensive designer brands.

JULIA

Thanks for helping me get that job. The amount of paperwork you had to go through was really impressive. Not many people at the job centre have your work ethic.

MRS.CARTY

No problem. I'm sure you'll make a great policeman. Anyway, I'm not that good. I couldn't get George a job.

JULIA

No one can.

MRS. CARTY

Fair point. Anyway, have a biscuit. Next you’ll keep going on about that.

JULIA

Changing the subject out of kindness? That’s so you.

MRS. CARTY

It's a super rare treat, delivered to me by strange men in white suits. They said it with the others were gifts, but they disappeared before I had a chance to question them about them.

JULIA

(a little uncomfortable)

That was a bit weird, wasn't it?

MRS.CARTY

(slightly distressed)

Not really. I've heard some REALLY crazy rumours, and you and I both have seen people spontaneously combust. The biscuits are nothing. Anyway, all of that stuff is in the past. We're going through a golden age, right now. Nothing bad happens anymore.

JULIA

I don't know if I should have one no matter how good they are. I'm on a diet.

MRS. CARTY

(becoming lighthearted)

Don't be so ridiculous. You think a single snack will make a difference? I'm going to make myself some coffee.

As MRS. CARTY opens the door, JULIA gives into temptation. She reaches for a jammy dodger.

INT: MRS. CARTY'S KITCHEN - IMMEDIATELY AFTER

This room also has a beechwood floor. Everything is nice and coordinated. There are no windows here, but landscape paintings and two entryways (or exitways if you prefer), instead. The high-range cooker, washing machine, sink, etc., are all coloured a calming pale blue. (Yes, this is another book where I felt the need to write about the colour of the surroundings. Don’t ask why - Simon). MRS. CARTY is busy boiling water in her kettle.

MRS. CARTY hums to herself, happily.

MRS. CARTY

Hey, Julia? Want to try some of my specially imported coffee? Sir George gave it to me as a present.

There is a weird, chilling silence.

MRS.CARTY

Julia?...

Unnerved, MRS. CARTY leaves the kitchen to check on her friend.

INT: MRS. CARTY'S DINING ROOM - IMMEDIATELY AFTER

A separated jammy dodger lies on the table, un-eaten. JULIA'S body is slumped over the table, heavily bruised and lifeless.

MRS. CARTY

JULIA?!?!!

Julia falls off her chair and onto the floor. She is clearly dead. The still and untouched biscuit starts to emit a small red glow. It speaks with a powerful, high pitched voice.

EVIL BISCUIT

Hahahaha. You think you can kill me?? Now you're going to get some of your own medicine!

The EVIL BISCUIT remains completely still.

MRS. CARTY

(horrified)

I didn't know you were alive, did I?!

EVIL BISCUIT

I don't care! Prepare to die!

MRS. CARTY

Oh, not this again!!

The glow from the snack gets bigger and bigger, until it lights up the whole room. MRS. CARTY runs through the kitchen, then through the matching hallway and out of the front door. All whilst screaming in panic. However due to trauma, her personality has hardened, somewhat. Had such an event happened 6 years, ago, she may well have fainted.

EXT: OUTSIDE OF MRS. CARTY'S FLAT - IMMEDIATELY AFTER

Here is a well-lit, carpeted room. It is a large space with a front door at each of its sides. A lift is at the back corner of the room and a staircase is in its centre.

MRS. CARTY reaches into her pocket, pulls out her mobile and rings SIR GEORGE.

If you read TDoP, you will know SIR GEORGE is an energetic OAP, almost always wearing gold jewellery and a red military uniform. He also wears a just about noticeable hearing aid. He has a white handlebar moustache and comb over on his head. If you didn’t read it, you know now…

MRS. CARTY

Sir George! A biscuit just murdered my friend, Julia! You have to help!

SIR GEORGE

(in frustration)

Oh, God. I thought all this madness had ended! I'm coming right now... But wait... Why don't you just hit it with a hammer, or something?

MRS. CARTY

I'm sorry, I could never bring myself to harm anyone. Not even a biscuit...

SIR GEORGE

Of course. I understand. In the meantime, just try and reason with it. Give it some water!

MRS. CARTY

Oh, God!

In dread, MRS. CARTY takes GEORGE'S advice. With reluctance, she goes back into her dining room.

INT: YOU KNOW WHERE - SECONDS LATER

The room is now such a bright red, MRS. CARTY has to squint her eyes.

MRS. CARTY

(repressing her terror and trying to be calm)

Listen.... Sorry, what's your name?

EVIL BISCUIT

(with no emotion)

Pete.

MRS. CARTY

... Pete. I understand you're mad at me because I told my friend to eat you. However, you must understand that we didn't realise you were alive!

EVIL BISCUIT

I know. You said.

MRS. CARTY

Oh, yeah....... So, er... You have any hobbies?

EVIL BISCUIT

I'm very much into religion.

MRS. CARTY

(not believing the biscuit)

Really? Do you give talks?

EVIL BISCUIT

I don't need to. I can... Do things...

MRS. CARTY

(loosing her cool and getting scared)

I don't understand...

EVIL BISCUIT

You puny humans will never understand.

MRS. CARTY

Er.... Have you ever heard of the rumour... The rumour of the cat and the swan with a grenade launcher?

EVIL BISCUIT

Of course. But I can assure you, I am not like them. They were nothing more than a couple of thugs.... I.... on the other hand am so much more.

MRS. CARTY

Would you like a glass of water?

EVIL BISCUIT

Hahaha. I'm not falling for that one.

MRS. CARTY

I don't know what you mean....

EVIL BISCUIT

You don't, but George does.

MRS. CARTY

I'm feeling uneasy. I'm going to make myself a sandwich.

MRS. CARTY makes her way to the kitchen with a slow caution. Like a fool, however she takes her still narrowed eyes off the biscuit. Now he has his chance. The jammy dodger leaps through the air and onto her head.

MRS. CARTY

OW! WHAT THE HELL?!

MRS. CARTY loses consciousness and falls to the floor.

INT: SIR GEORGE'S LAMBORGHINI - IMMEDIATELY AFTER

SIR GEORGE speeds through the sunlit streets of London, in panic. The traffic is heavy but GEORGE beeps his horn like a maniac and everyone gets out of his way. Tall and slightly dirty concrete buildings become a blur. Traffic lights at crossroads are now mere guides that shouldn't necessarily be taken literally.

SIR GEORGE

(with devotion)

Don't worry, Mrs. Carty! I'm coming for you!

Soon enough, SIR GEORGE reaches the outside of MRS. CARTY'S flat and parks his super-car in the car park. Now he doesn't feel quite so special. Other occupants of the park include Ferraris, Bentleys and even a Formula 1 car. After entering the tall glass complex, running up the stairs and ringing the doorbell, he receives no response. He takes a look through the letter box and moments later, sees a jammy dodger heading straight for him. It knocks him to the ground but GEORGE is a fighter. Whilst recklessly overconfident, the BISCUIT makes a mistake. As he takes a brief break from all of his hard work, SIR GEORGE simply eats him.

SIR GEORGE

Yum.

MRS. CARTY opens the door, bruised from head to toe. She only just manages to stand.

MRS. CARTY

Sir George! You saved my life!

SIR GEORGE

It was no prob....

Suddenly, SIR GEORGE starts glowing red.

SIR GEORGE

What the hell?!?

MRS. CARTY

Oh, my God!

There is a long and holy pause.

SIR GEORGE

(intrigued)

... I know this sounds weird... But I think I now have biscuit power!

MRS. CARTY

You do??

That eerie, high pitched voice starts to speak to SIR GEORGE alone. GEORGE falls to the floor, as if about to pray.

VOICE IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

(with authority)

I knew this moment would come, George. You may think otherwise, but I am not the soul of a biscuit.

SIR GEORGE

What's going on??

MRS. CARTY

Are you ok, George??

VOICE IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

I am the ruler of the universe. I want you to record my wisdoms and your following experiences for humanity. Get a pen and paper ready.

SIR GEORGE

Why me??

VOICE IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

I just think you're entertaining.

SIR GEORGE

(slightly disappointed)

Oh. Why did you murder Julia??

VOICE IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

She'll be fine. Mrs. Carty will be ok, too. Look.

MRS. CARTY

.... Hey, George, my bruising has gone! My bones aren't broken any more!

There is a voice in the distance.

JULIA

What the F**K just happened??

VOICE IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

All of this was a test. I wanted to know what you would do in the face of terror. You passed, George. I have to go now. Tell my story!!

SIR GEORGE

Drama queen.

MRS. CARTY bends down to comfort GEORGE.

MRS. CARTY

Who were you talking to??

SIR GEORGE

(also with authority)

.... God. I am now his messenger....

MRS. CARTY gives a relieved sigh.

MRS. CARTY

Oh.... Cool...

SIR GEORGE

(concerned)

I'm not sure if it is cool, I think the crazy times are coming back. And I can't leave the house like this. I hope to God the glowing will go away. Can you let me in, please?

MRS. CARTY

Sure thing. Come inside.

SIR GEORGE

Do you have a pen and a note pad, or something? I have to note down everything that happens and gets said. I think my writings will get published one day... Or something like that...

MRS. CARTY

How exciting! Can you remember everything?

SIR GEORGE

Now, I can yeah. OK, let's get to it.

The PAIR enter the flat and GEORGE (that's me!) starts his puzzling mission. The preceding was written up by me, once I had some time to myself. Does it matter when? I hope not coz you’re not getting an explanation, at least not yet. Writing this is hard. This stuff however, is being written now. A bit confusing perhaps, but I’m God’s messenger, so my rules. I’m also going to have to reorder the pages of my notes later, to make a readable, logical book. #dreadingit.

So, I have biscuit power. I've been told not to call it that, but I think it has a nice ring to it. Coincidentally, I'm eating biscuits currently at MRS. CARTY'S dining room table. As biscuits go, they're amazing. Really top notch. What's going to happen in this story? F**k knows. I know of everything around me, but I can't see into the future. I was told power corrupts when I asked (or begged) for the ability. Never mind.

Trying to bring down the publishing industry down by small scale stealth, and you haven't bought the book preceding this? Not an issue, I'll explain the situation: Water is being spiked with the 'lovely drug', oxytocin, and everyone is nicer and more obedient (maybe too obedient) because of it. Why doesn't MRS. CARTY know this? Because it's drugged in secret. I however, used to work for the government and I developed the scheme with super intelligent dogs. Naturally, I know all about it. The drugging also explains why MRS. CARTY said 'we're going through a golden age, where nothing bad happens'... 'What about the cat and swan with a grenade launcher?' Don't ask.

What else to say?... How about: 'Hello, are you having a nice day?' I am, things are looking pretty dandy, right now. I feel so special. And a killer biscuit? What was that about? Oh, God, you are a tease.... Also…. Deftones forever….. Bye. Have to go now, the phone is ringing. An extra loud black metal ringtone to scare the neighbours. Lolzzzz.

Ok, back to the reviews….

8th: Dad’s Army

Prison is funny and now the second world war is too? Next you’ll be saying grievous bodily harm and general thuggery is funny. (As pointed out, that stuff would never cause mirth, right?) Maybe you need examples from this popular sitcom to persuade you it’s good? Check out all these classic catchphrases: ‘We’re doomed!’ ‘Don’t panic!’ ‘Do you think that’s wise, sir?’ ‘Stupid boy’, etc. Do you know the only catchphrases I have? ‘So….’, ‘anyway…’ and ‘bye!’ Arguably not on the same level. I’m not the only person who has monosyllabic tendencies, Edna Krabappel is known for saying ‘Ha!’ repeatedly in her own unique way. However, my phrasing of the farewell is highly typical. Well, I do use lots of exclamation marks often, but I can’t really claim them as my own. Damn.

7th: Bottom

Oh my bad, GBH IS funny. So much so, it features in every Bottom episode. You get frying pan abuse, red hot iron torture, good old fist fights, etc. The show also deals with sensitive subjects such as alcoholism and burglary. No wait, it MAKES LIGHT of subjects such as alcoholism and burglary. It makes them even funnier than prison in my opinion. What a compliment: Bottom is better than prison. It’s also better than war and somewhat more impressively, space travel. So, so, so, so, so…

So…

So, more book!! Isn’t that wonderful?

INT: MRS. CARTY'S DINING ROOM - IMMEDIATELY AFTER NOTING THOUGHTS

SIR GEORGE (yep, me) AND MRS. CARTY are sitting at the table. I have recently finished scribbling down my thoughts, and a note pad and pen is in front of me. My mobile phone is in my hand.

SIR GEORGE

(annoyed)

God damn prank call, with someone saying 'jalapeno' over and over. (That’s a TDoP reference - Simon). Oh God, my hearing aid batteries have run out. I left my spares at home.

MRS. CARTY

(still with gratitude)

Would you like me to buy some for you? You're still kind of glowing...

SIR GEORGE

(straining his brain)

….Did you say ‘would you like my to eye some clues?'

MRS. CARTY

I'll write down what I want to say on your paper...

MRS. CARTY jots down what she previously said, with respect.

SIR GEORGE

(amused)

Ohhhh, you’re offering to go to the shops…. Yes, please.

As MRS. CARTY leaves, SIR GEORGE'S mobile phone rings, again.

SIR GEORGE

Oh, s**t! I can barely hear a word!

Being a trouper, he answers it.

SIR GEORGE

(nervous)

Hello??

The MAN ON THE PHONE is a 30 year old with a typical middle class, London accent.

MAN ON THE PHONE

(with politeness)

Hello, George. How are you today?

SIR GEORGE

Not bad, you?

MAN ON THE PHONE

I'm fine, thanks. I'm just calling to take a quick survey about your current circumstances. Is that ok?

SIR GEORGE

That's ok...

MAN ON THE PHONE

Great. So, are you still working?

SIR GEORGE

Yes. I'm a black metal musician. I have an album out called ‘F***in’ Mental!'

MAN ON THE PHONE

... Ok, and how many hours a week do you work?

SIR GEORGE

Er.... No.

MAN ON THE PHONE

(puzzled)

Excuse me?

SIR GEORGE

Sorry, yes.

MAN ON THE PHONE

(becoming uncomfortable)

.... Ok... And how much are you earning? If you don't mind me asking...

SIR GEORGE

(thinking hard and getting more nervous)

.... I don't think so, no.

MAN ON THE PHONE

You don't think what?

SIR GEORGE

I don't think... I'm going to run out of money... Something about money.

MAN ON THE PHONE

(just that little bit less ill at ease)

Ok, well that sort of made sense.

SIR GEORGE

Phew.

MAN ON THE PHONE

Can you give me a rough figure of how much you are earning?

SIR GEORGE

I think I had two eggs and some beans on Saturday. Bye!

SIR GEORGE puts his phone in his pocket and tries to move on with his life.

SIR GEORGE

That was a good breakfast.

Suddenly, he feels a buzzing in his cranium…

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

Hello, George?

SIR GEORGE

Hello, God. Did you know that phone call was about to happen?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

(laughing)

Yeah...

SIR GEORGE

(ignoring him)

What do you want?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

I want you to go the Hell.

SIR GEORGE

(offended)

There's no need for that...

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

You misunderstand me. I want you to literally go to Hell and tell Satan he's a muppet. Also, there are some items I want you to pick up there.

SIR GEORGE

Ok... Where's Hell?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

It's by the swimming pool in Windsor.

SIR GEORGE

Ha. Well I'll be damned.

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

I want you to put together a team of adventurers. With you at all times, will be the spirit of The Wise Old Man, Eric Howe.

SIR GEORGE

(curiously)

Why him?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

... Because he's wise…

SIR GEORGE

I see. Well, I can do that. Is there anything you want me to know? Is there anything demented that will happen to me, in the future?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

George, I can't tell you everything. You see, I control most of the future, but not all of it. Satan also has special powers. A small percentage of mine, but a significant percentage. We are at constant war and I can't say for certain, who will win.

SIR GEORGE

Wow. Bummer.

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

Indeed. That's why I want you to call him a muppet. And a fool.

SIR GEORGE

Is that all you want me to do?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

Not exactly. I'll explain everything later. I have to go now. Don't let me down.

SIR GEORGE

I'll do my best. Oh, yeah; can you turn the glowing off, please?

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

(slightly upset)

You don't like it? I think it looks cool...

SIR GEORGE

It does, it does... Just kind of makes me feel self-conscious.

GOD IN SIR GEORGE'S HEAD

Of course. No problem.

Inspired and no longer luminous, GEORGE gets out his mobile again and starts to compose an email. He sends it to CHAD MACALPINE, OSCAR CANS and the gameshow host, MATT TALBOTT. (Again, if you want backgrounds of those people, read my debut on this site - Simon).

SIR GEORGE'S EMAIL ENTRY THING

To chadsterhunk55@burningmail.co.uk, infranceandlivindadream@millionmail.com, and matttalbottpresenter@millionmail.com

EMAIL BODY

Hey, hey! Remember years back, when people started exploding and stuff? Well, s**t’s getting serious, again. God told me to put together a team to go into the mouth of Hell at Windsor. I'm supposed to 'pick up some items' in the underworld and I want you to join me. For those of you who know of the now dead Eric Howe, his spirit will be with us. Oscar and Chad, I know you're busy in France with your supermarket chain 'Produits Savoureux' but you're the bosses and you make the decisions (for me). I want you to take a holiday and fly over here with your private jet, right now. Do you want to piss of God? Good. I also want you try and keep a low profile. If you go to jail again, I will not be able to help you. Matt; don't be a prick. Everyone, please get back to me ASAP. Byeee.

With little to do, GEORGE starts to wander around MRS. CARTY'S flat. Nothing much seems to be in the dining room, so he heads for the kitchen. Left to his own devices, he pulls out a kitchen knife from the drawer and pretends he's a ninja. It's not long before he feels a bit silly, so he goes back to the dining room to pick out a book about politics. Eventually, he gets out his pen and paper once more.

We're live, again, and I'm writing as I think! When did I write up the preceding? F**k it, it doesn’t matter. Okey dokey. Let's see MR. CANS'S response to my email. Over and out...

Back to you know what…

6th: The League of Gentlemen

More violence, this time with the threat of guns! However, instead of the characters being fixated with money like in the prior comedy, here pens are obsessions with one person, at least. Another individual has a penchant for collecting other people’s wives. The hyper-romantic perpetrator named Papa Lazarou is a man who REALLY likes saying ‘Dave’ and to be honest, he comes across as very weird with his makeup and tendencies for talking complete gibberish. (Even when he speaks English his thought processes are extremely hard to decipher). Needless to say, this laugh-fest is a lot more surreal than the ones discussed so far.

5th: Blackadder

War is funny again, at least in the fourth and final series of this classic situation comedy. The previous three were further in the past and had more royal subject matter. A more consistent theme of the four serieses is simply being a dick to other people. I always get told it’s important to write about likeable protagonists, but Edmund Blackadder is somewhat ‘special’ with his never ending putdowns. He’s not bad enough to deserve spending countless years in jail or in a psychiatric institution, in contrast to dozens of TLoG characters, but maybe he could benefit from some sort of therapy; if not for him, for poor Baldrick. Apparently the latter has a brain so tiny, it could only be enjoyed by a cannibal on a small water biscuit, etc., etc. Ouch.

INT: PRODUITS SAVOUREUX HEADQUARTERS, PARIS - AN HOUR LATER

MR. CANS is 37 years old with a somewhat feminine, round head and thoughtful eyes. He is tall and thin and is wearing a black suit and tie. He is sitting in his office, hard at work.

MR. CANS'S office is a room designed for a single person. Interestingly, all walls and even floors are made of thick glass. The OCCUPANT sees everything below and around him on his swivel chair by his table and supercomputer. Most notably, a dozen busy workers at PCs in similar chambers. In addition, many TVs linked to surveillance equipment hang on CANS’S walls. Despite his power-crazed personality, statues of his old friends Denae the swan and Pickles the cat are in the corner of the room. He frequently looks at them with fond memories. More practical features in this space, include a microphone and a series of numbered buttons on the wall. Next to those, is a list of who the numbers call. On the spur of the moment, CAN'S presses all of these buttons.

MR. CANS

Hello! I hope everyone is having a great day!

After that small scale socialising, CANS decides to take a breather and tries to think up some innovative ideas for his company. He gazes out of the window, in thought. The sky is a magnificent blue, with swirling white clouds across it. The monumental Eiffel Tower is straight in front of him. To the right and left of the tower, are dozens of healthy green trees (ooh) with concrete buildings behind them (meh). These trees aren't small, but they certainly look small in comparison to the attraction. Underneath the tower, is a very thick, lively road full of drivers who feel lucky to be there. In front of it is a large, trimmed field-like garden with a glistening water park in its centre. At the front of the park and across its width are a number of fountains. Very pretty.

.... Nevertheless....

MR. CANS

(thinking to himself)

What a stupid building. Looks like a massive pylon. Let's check my emails.

MR. CANS opens up his email service. The message is from invitedeftoneshomefortea@burningmail.co.uk

MR. CANS

(shocked)

Sir George?? What the hell does he want??

Needless to say, CANS thought that was crazy enough, but…

MR. CANS

He wants me to go to Hell with him, to please God?? But I don't even believe in God!

… things got crazier, right?

GOD thinks to himself 'damn atheists.' You can’t see him obviously, but he is around somewhere…

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(annoyed)

You will!

MR. CANS

(flabbergasted)

God?!?!

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(proudly)

That's me!

MR CANS tries his best to compose himself.

MR. CANS

(nervously)

.... Do atheists go to Heaven?

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

Don't worry about it. Almost everyone goes to Heaven. The people who don't are the nastiest men and women you'll ever come across. Its population is pretty small. Anyway, George has chosen you and I respect his decision.

MR. CANS

(almost getting more confused)

... Did you know he's in a black metal band?

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

I like Mayhem as much as the next man. Euronymous and co are all in Heaven/going to Heaven, whether they like it or not.

MR. CANS

Varg Vikernes?

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(thoughtfully)

Undecided. Anyway, George isn't evil, he's just an idiot.

MR. CANS

Agreed.

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(determined)

I want you to leave for London immediately with Chad Macalpine. You'll meet the famous TV presenter, Matt Talbott with George.

MR. CANS

(still a little spaced out)

Sounds exciting... But the two bosses of the company, just leaving everything to people less qualified than us?

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

Trust me. Tell your next in command to take your places for a while.

MR. CANS

For how long?

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

I'm not sure. Hell is a strange and unpredictable world and Satan is equally strange and unpredictable. I hate to say this, but anything can happen. Are you man enough to face the challenge.

MR. CANS

Yip.

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

Good. Don't let me down.

MR. CANS

You do know me and Chad escaped jail in England? We're wanted criminals!

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

Don't worry about that. I'm sure you can keep a low profile for a few days. No police will see you in Hell, that's for sure. Anyway, it's not as if the government is out to get you. They helped you start a new life, didn't they? Just stay away from the popo.

MR. CANS

(reluctantly)

If that's what you want.

MR. CANS switches off his computer and speaks into his microphone after pressing a button.

MR. CANS

(in anticipation)

Pierre?

PIERRE is 40 years old and tall with dyed black hair. He wears a black suit with sunglasses. He has a shifty, tight mouth on his lightly tanned face. He is vaguely seen by CANS, sitting alone in his office. He is by a microphone at his computer and he gives a wave to his BOSS.

PIERRE

(with respect)

Yes boss?

MR. CANS

You're not underboss anymore. You're going to run this company, while Chad and I go on an exciting quest.

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(irritated)

I don't like you calling him underboss, Cans, you’re not in The Godfather. Call him sub-boss. Or gangster wannabe.

MR. CANS

Of course. I'm sorry God.

PIERRE

(kind of excited)

You think I’m… I’m sorry??

MR. CANS

Whoops.

PIERRE

What do you have in mind for me??

MR. CANS

(embarrassed)

I'm just saying you're God of Produits Savoureux for a while. You're not sub-boss anymore.

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

(dissaproving)

That's blasphemy, Cans.

PIERRE

Great!

GOD IN MR. CANS'S HEAD

Tell him that's blasphemy.

MR. CANS

(sternly)

That was blasphemous, Pierre.

PIERRE

(confused)

But you always refer to yourself as God... You just called me God...

MR. CANS

(annoyed)

Look, you're not going to stay boss very long if you keep asking questions, ok?

PIERRE

Sorry. Crystal clear.

MR. CANS ends his call with PIERRE and presses the number for CHAD.

MR. CANS

Hey, Chad? Did you get the email?

CHAD MACALPINE is 36 years old with short brown hair on his masculine, attractive face. His blue eyes frequently twitch. To cover his tacky gang tattoos on his arm (again, don't ask), he wears a long-sleeved business suit. He is also just about seen in his office, which is similar to CANS'S. Now CHAD waves.

CHAD MACALPINE

(amazed)

Yeah, God spoke to me about it...

MR. CANS

Good. Let's go. Cancel my frogs leg and snails baguette.

CHAD MACALPINE

What about the onion and garlic sides?

MR. CANS

Those, too. Now is not the time for screwing around.

MR. CANS turns off his microphone and heads for home. He has some packing to do.

... Live once more, from MRS. CARTY'S house. (In the future, I'll just write 'LIVE:', to make things quicker). Anyway, how did MATT TALBOTT respond to my message??... OAO. (Over and out).

4th: Extras

Not as popular as the other main Ricky Gervais comedy, The Office, but I think this one’s better. It’s worth watching for the fizzy water scene alone. Basically, the main character casually throws the bottle up and down in his hand as he chats someone up, thinking it’s regular water. (It gets much better). But it isn’t, so it explodes everywhere when opened. Furthermore, he doesn’t want the product to spill all over the floor, (I’m assuming, either that or he’s just weird) so he tries to drink it all with a very wide eyed face. Needless to say, hilarity ensues. The scene is so funny, that its description took up the whole paragraph I gave myself to sum the show up. Youtube it!

3rd: Fawlty Towers

The cast of Bottom may have thought of themselves as pretty hardcore with all the constant staged violence they took part in, but lead character Basil Fawlty literally smashed undervalued sidekick Manuel with a real frying pan on the head, very hard. The people involved claimed that was an accident, and that the victim was supposed to be hit with a padded frying pan. But you’d think it would be easy to tell the difference between something that is real and a replica. I remember being completely disinterested in food tech in school, but even I’d know if someone gave me a toy to cook with. The actor who plays Fawlty, John Cleese is a very clever man, easily clever enough to do basic spot the difference quizzes and such. The man clearly hated his fellow actors.

EXT: DEPRIVED STREETS OF CENTRAL LONDON - IMMEDIATELY AFTER

It is a hot morning. That's the good part over. Litter lies across the pavement and some of this litter includes burnt-out cars. All buildings in sight are orange-red, brick built constructions that look like prisons with their windows smashed. They surround PEDESTRIANS in a claustrophobic nightmare, and there is the smell of pee in the air. A GANG OF TEENAGERS are pointing and laughing at MATT TALBOTT.

MATT TALBOTT is 46 years old. Since his attack of depression a year ago, his health has improved - both mental and physical. He is no longer over weight, but his hair is just that tiny bit grayer. His teeth are still made of gold, even though he is pretending to be a vagrant as part of a Channel Five Five Five documentary. (Screw the show not tell rule, I’m God’s messenger). Fortunately, his massive fake beard hides his gnashers and indeed most of his face. He is lying down in his sleeping bag, wearing tatty jeans and a shirt.

GANG OF YOUTHS

Baaaahahahaha! Tramp wanker!

The Inbetweeners series has clearly gotten too much attention. Everyone is now a wanker. People are bus wankers, tramp wankers, house wankers, shirt wankers, job wankers, garden wankers, the list is endless. MATT however, ignores the intellectuals and relies on hidden cameras to make great telly.

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

(seriously)

Hello, Matt. I'm God.

MATT TALBOTT

(just as stunned as the first recruits)

You're God???

GANG MEMBER

Schizo wanker!

Without apparent explanation, the GANG OF YOUTHS become mute all of a sudden. They leave the area like stiff zombies.

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

Excellent. Let's go somewhere private.

MATT TALBOTT

But what about my documentary?

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

It's looking like you're having a mental breakdown. It will earn you a lot of money. Anyway, I want you to stop taking part in it. Those high up have drugged everyone around here to make them more aggressive and interesting to watch. It's quite immoral.

MATT TALBOTT

(awestruck)

If that's what you want. I know somewhere...

MATT gets up from the ground and leaves his blankets. Without a key, he simply opens a nearby graffiti covered door and enters the dark and bare hallway. There is no wallpaper here, or indeed anything that offers comfort. All there is a couple of closed wooden doors with peeling paint on them and a camera on the ceiling.

MATT TALBOTT

So, why are you talking to me? Do you like my work?

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

(kind of irritated)

No, I just said. It's wrong.

MATT TALBOTT

(saddened)

Oh, yeah. It's not that I wasn't listening, I'm just shocked a bit.

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

(reassuring him)

Never mind. It's not the worst thing I've seen. Anyway, remember Sir George?

MATT TALBOTT

(confused)

The idiot?

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

Good, you do remember. As infuriating as he can be sometimes, he is an interesting person and I need someone memorable to tell my story. It's very important. I've given him special powers. He knows of everything around him, at all times. Because of this, he can note down it all and publish it in a book. I'll address George's inappropriate behaviour at a later time.

MATT is too humble to ask for similar powers.

MATT TALBOTT

(jealous)

What kind of story is going to be told?

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

You'll have to find out for yourself. All I can tell you, is that I want you to meet up with him at his house.

MATT TALBOTT

Now?

GOD IN MATT'S HEAD

Yes. Here's what the cameras have picked up, so far: 'You're God?? But what about my documentary? If you say so. I know somewhere. So why are you talking to me? Do you like my work? Oh. The idiot? What kind of story is going to be told? Now?'.... You look like a total lunatic. Now I want you to seal the deal. Say 'Nooooooo!!!! I have to get out of here!!!' I will guide you to where you have to go.

MATT TALBOTT

(enthusiastically)

Noooooo!!!! I have to get out of here!!!

MATT TALBOTT runs away.

LIVE from MRS. CARTY'S crib: I see. He called me an idiot. Doesn't matter. Alright, let's skip a few hours, and cut to the time the last of the trio makes it to my London mansion. I have some travelling to do, too. OAO.

2nd: Father Ted

Hamsters riding mini tricycles and skydiving priests? You’d have to be pretty damn good to come up with better ideas than that. And a character feeling guilty because he lost the respect of his sheep? Genius. Similarly in my book, One Screwy Week, I had to make jaded pet fish a large theme of my work. Sue me, I ‘developed’ (not stole) an idea. :P On the theme of catchphrases again, Father Jack very much likes saying ‘drink’ over and over and over. You’d think it would get annoying, but it’s actually almost on par with the just described craziness. Weird, right?

1st: I’m Alan Partridge

What could be funnier than the previous material? I’ll tell you what, accusing people of feeding beef burgers to swans and of making pigs smoke. They’re PROPER insults. I’m not saying Steve Coogan is more talented than Shakespeare (I’ll let you be the judge), but here is one of the historical legend’s insults for you to compare: ‘I’ll beat thee, but I would infect my hands’. That was witty of course, the man knew what he was doing, but it lacked the surrealness of Coogan. Here is an improvement I think both authors would like: ‘I’ll beat thee, but you’re too busy feeding beef burgers to swans. You pigeon liver.’ (The last sentence was another one of ’spear’s). If you didn’t find that funny… like I said, writing is hard. If you did, good on you. So anyway, bye. Let’s have more book!

EXT: SIR GEORGE'S HOUSE, CENTRAL LONDON - NIGHT

This house is a beautiful mansion that is four storeys high. Its ostentatious design is based on Buckingham Palace and why not live in such a place, if one can afford it? Similar houses are by its sides. However, unlike his neighbours, GEORGE'S abode features a large clock with a Union Jack flag on top of it. Let’s morph through the front door with our thoughts, to see the super-funky insides. No actually, morph through the joining wall. Just because we can.

INT: SIR GEORGE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

SIR GEORGE, MATT TALBOTT, OSCAR CANS, CHAD MACALPINE and the croaky voiced, invisible spirit of the WISE OLD MAN are in the hallway, a few feet away from the entrance. This neoclassical styled room is ivory coloured and features a stunning golden staircase. Diamond chandeliers are high up on the ceiling and Deftones posters are on the walls. A gold statue of Chino Moreno is next to the impressive oak door, leading to the next room of the house. OSCAR and CHAD are admiring the spectacular interior with half of their attention on the OWNER.

SIR GEORGE

(excited)

Oscar, Chad! You made it here, already?!

CHAD MACALPINE

(happy to see him)

Not a problem, my old friend. How are you?

OSCAR CANS

(also happy)

Yeah, how are you?

SIR GEORGE

Pretty good. I wish I could say the same for Matt; his clothes stank of pee when he got here. He had to borrow one of my tuxedos. You should have seen him with his ridiculous fake beard!

MATT TALBOTT

(angry)

Hey, none of that wasn't my fault! The producers of the show forced me to wear that crap!

SIR GEORGE

Makes you wonder where it will end. A Big Brother gang war? Why you chose to stop hosting gameshows is beyond me.

W.O.M.’S SPIRIT

(lightheartedly)

Boo!

SIR GEORGE

(jokingly)

Oh, you! This is great, everyone's having a laugh. I'm sure we'll have an amazing time! Imagine the thought of going to Hell in a tuxedo. Isn't that crazy?

MATT TALBOTT

(curious)

Won't we get hot?

SIR GEORGE

Yes, of course. Just kidding. We'll have to wear shorts and sleeveless shirts. And heavy duty boots, in case the ground is too hot.

MATT TALBOTT

What will we eat?

Someone rings the doorbell. GEORGE opens the door to reveal a strange MAN in a white suit.

SIR GEORGE

(unsettled)

Hello?

The MAN hands GEORGE a cube shaped parcel of 6 inch sides and scutters off into the night.

SIR GEORGE

Hey! You there!

GEORGE shuts the entrance and opens the neatly wrapped gift, mystified and without haste. In it is a small guillotine on top of a slow moving conveyer belt. On its side, is a knob with the word 'speed' by it. Surrounding and fixed to the gadget, is a glass, hollowed out cube. The writing ‘lift by unlocking’ is on that. The key is in the lock and ready for use.

SIR GEORGE

What the hell is this??

CHAD MACALPINE

(confused but trying to sound knowledgable)

It looks like one of those… hamster guillotine, things…

GOD'S voice is heard in the hallway.

GOD

Imbecile. Read the instruction manual.

SIR GEORGE takes a closer look at the wrapping and spots a small note by it. He reads it aloud.

INSTRUCTION MANUAL

Congratulations on your purchase of the Food Eternaliser 777. Simply put whatever food you want to last forever under the guillotine. Once the food is chopped in half, the conveyer belt will move it under the slicer, again. Your food will get smaller and smaller, and it may seem that it will eventually become nothing. However, as the process gets repeated an infinite amount of times, you will actually produce an infinite amount of slices and therefore, an infinite supply of food. This is a great product for anyone going on a long journey, where food is scarce. I hope this device will give you a lifetime of happiness.

CHAD MACALPINE

That's cool. I wonder what food we should make last forever...

W.O.M.'S SPIRIT

(brainstorming)

Angel cake?

CHAD MACALPINE

(slightly repulsed)

Are you serious? Imagine eating nothing but that for God knows how long!

GOD

I want you to eat angel cake.

CHAD MACALPINE

(with respect)

Just angel cake??

GOD

Yeah...

CHAD MACALPINE

Alright. Can you go into detail why we're going to Hell, please?

GOD

(in a serious tone)

Yes. Satan has a spice mine in Hell, and he's trying to get these spices into Earth through volcanic eruptions. And I'm not talking about any seasonings, here, I'm talking about really brutal, evil stuff. Billions of Scoville units. Even sniffing these chillies can drive one mad enough to commit serious acts of violence. That must not happen. Once you find the heart of the mine, I want you to hide the Food Eternaliser there, and place a small dollop of yogurt on it. That will neutralise the heat. Eventually the whole mine will be destroyed. Once the guillotine has been placed, you will no longer have any food, so get out of Hell as soon as possible. What I have given you is very precious. It's one of a kind. It is, however, though as old boots.

CHAD MACALPINE

... George mentioned something about picking up some items?

GOD

Oh, yes. I want some of these spices for myself. I'm planning to treat myself to a special curry. Wearing protective gloves, place the requested food into a diamond container.

This time, GEORGE'S door simply opens. The panting MAN IN WHITE is seen with two small parcels and three large ones.

MAN IN WHITE

(in awe)

Sorry. I forgot to give you these; a lot has been on my mind. You're so brave risking death and eternal torture!

MATT TALBOTT

.... Excuse me?

GOD

(nervously)

You'll be fine. I'm sure.

MATT TALBOTT

(terrified and almost lost for words)

... What's the weather like in Hell??...

GOD

I'm not going to lie. It's pretty grim. You'll need protective clothing.

MAN IN WHITE

They're in the packages. Shake my hand, all of you!

In dread, GEORGE, CHAD, OSCAR and MATT shake the MAN IN WHITE'S hands. The W.O.M.'S SPIRIT knows exactly how to give a holy shake from beyond the grave. He does so, by conjuring a slowly emerging red cloud. His glowing body coming out of it becomes fully sized in seconds. He then he sticks his hand out in the same fashion anyone else would. The MAN hasn't aged since his death. He still has a white beard that reaches down to the floor. As one might expect, his face is rather wrinkled. His sagging eyes are intense, astute and full of life; much more so than any mortal. After the MAN greets the MAN IN WHITE, he vanished in a puff of coloured smoke.

SiR GEORGE

I'm assuming what you have brought is the apparatus needed for our trip?

MAN IN WHITE

Yes. The suits, gloves and diamond container. I've also given you a map to where Hell is and the map of Hell, itself. You better get packing... You heros! Don't forget to bring a torch!

LIVE: It probably won't come as a shock when I say the next hour or so isn't particularly interesting. Let's skip to the journey to Hell. Damn Lamborghini can only seat two people. :( Guess, I'll have to use the van... OAO.

You didn’t think I would neglect the jokes in this ultra blog did you? Hereeee youuuu goooo!

Why are desert flautists so attractive? Because they’re piping hot.

Why are farmers so musical when they eat? Because they use pitch forks.

Why must you never damage your windows? Because you’ll cause them glass pain.

Why are radio presenters so friendly? Because they give out radio waves.

What do you call self-satisfied radiator fitters? Gladiators.

Why are rooms built above bedroom toilets prone to collapsing? Because they’re built on sweets.

Why are Radiohead so familiar with the sea? Because they come from Headland.

Why do people with paralysed eye muscles admire so many people? Because they idle-eyes.

Why do the army repeatedly put makeup and eyelash extensions on people? Because they want to re-cute as many people as possible.

Why were the people who took part in the sack race criminals? Because they ransacked.

Why are armed thugs so impressive? Because they’re not to be sneezed at.

Why are there aquariums in nuclear power plants? Because people need to turn the nuclear fish on.

What do call a small burrowing marsupial with a gun? A wombatant.

Why are the people who measure aircraft thrust so infuriating? Because they thrust rate.

What’s the cheapest part of a pen? The pen knee.

What do you call the martial arts method, designed to protect you from pigs? Pork chops.

How come there are no mentally ill gay people? Because you only get straightjackets.

How come Carl Jung was an expert in fed up keys? Because he understood the sigh key.

What’s the cheapest way to get an ear ring? Stand next to a pneumatic drill.

Why are messy chefs so original? Because they’re pie on ears.

…. And the moment you’ve been waiting for: The last scene of the first part of my story! Enjoooooy.

INT: SIR GEORGE'S VAN - 2 AM

GEORGE is driving and CHAD is next to him. OSCAR and MATT are bouncing along in the seat-less back, along with their special equipment. The SPIRIT OF THE WISE OLD MAN is also in the van... Somewhere... The GROUP are travelling on the semi-busy widened roads of Central London. Amber street lamps light up the way, whilst the lighting coming from multi-storey building windows looks calming and ever so pretty.

SIR GEORGE

(buzzing)

How you liking my van, everyone??

CHAD MACALPINE

The acceleration is incredible! Have you souped it up, or something?

SIR GEORGE

Are you serious? It's pretty much all soup! I've spent years working on this thing. It does 0-60 in under 6 seconds!

CHAD MACALPINE

(impressed)

S**t.

SIR GEORGE

Once we get out of Central London, we can speed things up a bit. I've created a special playlist for moments like this...

SIR GEORGE opens the glove compartment, with one hand on the wheel. CHAD picks out a recordable CD, inside a cheap plastic case. The words 'driving music' are hand-written on its front. CHAD turns the CD case around, to reveal the track list...

CHAD MACALPINE

'Street Lethal' by Racer X, 'Fuel' by Metallica, 'I Speed at Night' by Dio... I'm sensing a theme...

SIR GEORGE

You should be sensing a theme, Chad.

W.O.M.'S SPIRIT

(uneasy)

You're not thinking of breaking the speed limit, are you George? God won't be happy about that...

SIR GEORGE

Relax. I'm just showing my enthusiasm for the journey... Anyway, we're risking an eternity of torture. What's a little bit of fun going to do in the grand scheme of things?

CHAD MACALPINE

Agreed. Hey, the A4 is coming up and there's not much traffic!

SIR GEORGE

Put on the Dio!

CHAD does as requested, filled with excitement. GEORGE puts his pedal to the metal. The two are forced backwards and those in the back are floored but enjoy it. Yep, even MATT. Semi-visible woods are now to the left of them and more attractive, tall buildings are lit up on their right. The road isn't quite as wide as a motorway, but it has the potential for a lot of fun and freedom.

I SPEED AT NIGHT LYRICS

Dark touches send rushes through the brain. Black's whiter, burns brighter than the flame....

CHAD MACALPINE

(nervously)

Er, George... I think I hear a police car...

SIR GEORGE

(surprised)

What?

A popo car with its sirens blaring (I know that now) and lights flashing, gets closer and closer. MATT and OSCAR right themselves and try to look respectful.

SIR GEORGE

Oh, s**t!

CHAD MACALPINE

(panicking)

The song! How do you turn it off?!

SIR GEORGE

AAARGH!

SIR GEORGE pulls up by the side of the road with the occasional passing motorist gazing at him. He hits the stop button on his stereo with ever increasing levels of force, but nothing happens.

I SPEED AT NIGHT LYRICS

I just come seeking pleasure, I hate the light, I speed at night!

JULIA taps on the van's window in anger. CHAD opens it, trying to be polite. His facial expression is sweet and innocent. GEORGE however, is hitting his CD player in a fit of rage. The sound system breaks and gets stuck on the same lyrics...

I SPEED AT NIGHT LYRICS

I hate the light, I speed at night! I hate the light, I speed at night! I hate the light, I speed at night!...

SIR GEORGE

F**k….

JULIA

(astonished)

George?!

GEORGE hits the CD player once more, causing minor cuts. Finally, it stops playing.

SIR GEORGE

(composing himself)

Ahem... Hello, Julia...

JULIA

(sternly)

What in the world do you think you're doing?? I've been following you for a while. I thought you were being chased, at first!

SIR GEORGE

Sorry, I'm just in a bit of a hurry...

JULIA

I think you're in more of a hurry! What was that music about?!

CHAD MACALPINE

(calmly)

It wasn't a song about speeding, the lyrics were very abstract. You see...

SIR GEORGE

(firmly)

Leave it, Chad.

JULIA

(concerned)

.... Chad? That name rings a bell... Chad who? How long have you known this Chad, George?

SIR GEORGE

(hiding tension)

I think you're hearing things. I said 'Brad.'

JULIA

.... That's what I thought... Just checking. I believe that Chad Macalpine has been sighted in France. The government is unwilling to pay the price of finding him, however. They just say they have more important things to worry about. I'd get the biggest promotion ever, if I found him...

SIR GEORGE

I bet you would... The prick.

CHAD tries hard not to show his anger. GEORGE and OSCAR try not to laugh.

JULIA

Anyway, since you saved me and friend's life, I'll forget this whole incident ever happened. But stay out of trouble!

SIR GEORGE

Of course. I am so sorry. Thanks a lot, bye… Have a great day!

CHAD shuts the window as JULIA drives off.

CHAD MACALPINE

Jesus Christ...

SIR GEORGE

(uneasy)

Let's just get to Windsor...

SIR GEORGE revs his engine with restraint and starts driving along the A4. He travels under the speed limit, just to be safe. Traffic is light, but far from non-existent. Again, orange-toned illuminations coming from passing by lampposts and buildings look calming and pleasant.

A few minutes later, GEORGE'S TEAM are now travelling on the M4 - yes, the same number, different letter. How the naming system works, I have no idea. There are no more houses or businesses by their sides, just woodland areas covered by the night. In front of them, is a police car in each lane. Their rotating lamps dazzle GEORGE and CHAD.

CHAD MACALPINE

(puzzled)

What's going on? Why are the police cars going too slow?

OSCAR CANS

(surprised)

I think they are abusing their power...

CHAD MACALPINE

They're abusing their power by going too slow??

SIR GEORGE

(rationally)

That's what it looks like, to me...

CHAD MACALPINE

Why??

SIR GEORGE

(skeptically)

Let me tell you something about those in authority… They just don't care about any kinds of rules. They are willing to do whatever they can get away with. Of course, the police are perfectly reasonable, but the people in front of us must be working for the government…

CHAD MACALPINE

Spies and such don't drink drugged water, after all…

SIR GEORGE

(thoughtfully)

Exactly.

MATT TALBOTT

(shocked by the whole situation)

What do you mean 'drugged water?'

OSCAR CANS

Of course; you wouldn't know... Commoner drinking water has oxytocin in it, now... To make people more law abiding, and stuff...

MATT TALBOTT

So that's why the crime rate has plummeted over the last year! How did you know about it??

OSCAR CANS

George, Chad and I have close ties with the government. George even helped develop the scheme with his fellow MPs...

MATT TALBOTT

(just as baffled as he was, all those years ago)

How the f**k did you become Prime Minister, George??

SIR GEORGE

Jealous much?

OSCAR CANS

Is it me, or are the police getting slower? They must be doing around 30 miles an hour…

SIR GEORGE

Absolutely disgusting. Just ignore them. We need to think about more important things than them.

Eventually, the GROUP reach the Windsor Leisure Centre car park and get out of the van. Here is a pretty straight-forward area that needs little description. Just a car park. In front of them is a new-age building that looks nice and clean. It’s painted a pure white and an inviting blue-green. Its outer design features a mixture of curves and straight angles. Large glass doors welcome visitors.

SIR GEORGE

(bravely)

So, here it is. The mouth of Hell.

The GROUP look at their surroundings in awe. Turning away from the centre, they see some harmless looking greenery.

SIR GEORGE

Ok, everyone; put on your protective clothing. I'll look after the special items. I'll put them in my pockets.

MATT TALBOTT

(mockingly)

Why don't we just wear shirts?

SIR GEORGE

Shut up.

CHAD MACALPINE

(in apprehension)

Get your pen and paper ready, George; this is the end of the beginning, I think! An excellent time to comment on the situation! I did work for the BBC, remember? I know all about this kind of stuff!

SIR GEORGE

So do I, so do I.

The ADVENTURERS spend around a minute unpacking and putting on their special clothes. Now, it can be seen what they look like; ultra-white suits from head to toe with silver zips down the centre. Many sealed pockets are all over them. Opaque black goggles cover the eyes and detachable black masks cover the mouth and nose. Thick silver boots protect the feet.

Once properly dressed, GEORGE gets out his pen and paper. With an incredible God-given speed, he writes down all significant events of the car journey. His hands are a blur.

LIVE:

SIR GEORGE

Ok, let's all chant the sacred code together....

CHAD MACALPINE

Still writing, huh?

SIR GEORGE

Yep. 3...2...1....

Do you think I'm telling you the code to get into Hell? Come on... Holy shit! The ground's opening up! Gotta go!! OAO!

And that’s my ultra blog over! What happens next in the story? Who knows! Until next time, maybe in one hundred blogs time: Ultra blog bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Here’s a joke): What part of an engine is most likely to get covered in urine? The pissed on.

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(Here’s a cool looking palindromic number): 688573375886.

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Bye!