British Comedy Guide

Uncle Melanie in Connecticut 30.1 - 7.2.25

F**king Hell! C**segnalazioni to Gappy for wanking it. PM me with a subject for next wank please.
Meanwhilst..
3 - Gappy
1 - Otterfox

Next topic: Numbers
Leg closed: 7.2.25
Runners are nowt...
Position Score Name
1 11 Gappy
2 7 Otterfox, Me
3 6 APlate
4 2 Teddy

COMFORTABLY NUMBER

PUB.
TOM and DICK.

TOM 'Ere, Dick, do I have to stop you talking in numbers?... Nah, it's just me trying...

DICK To...

TOM Get...

DICK To...

TOM Set up the skit. Anyway...

DICK Too...

TOM Bad. Not...

DICK To...

TOM Worry, 'cos we'll still get...

DICK To...

TOM Chat, and then I won't've lost, but...

DICK Won.

TOM So yesterday, after I went...

DICK To...

TOM Work, I felt liberated and...

DICK Free.

TOM So I went...

DICK For...

TOM A pint, but then I thought...

DICK 'F I've...

TOM Another night out, I'll throw up twice...

DICK Sicks.

TOM So instead I...

DICK Ate.

TOM Incidentally, do you speak German?

DICK Nein.

TOM Shame, 'cos after that...

DICK T'en.

TOM I had...

DICK A leaven...

TOM ...Ed bread with sausage. Then back...

DICK To...

TOM My flat...

DICK To...

TOM Listen...

DICK To...

TOM A song or...

DICK Three.

TOM Like The...

DICK Twelve...

TOM Days of Christmas, but now that's unlucky, like...

DICK Thirteen...

TOM So I decided...

DICK To...

TOM Listen...

DICK To 'One'...

TOM By U...

DICK Two.

TOM Or Jimi Hendrix, If...

DICK Six...

TOM Was...

DICK Nine.

TOM Or Patti Smith's...

DICK Nine.

TOM Or Number...

DICK Nine...

TOM Dream. Thought you didn't speak German?

DICK Nein.

TOM Well...

DICK T'en.

TOM You wouldn't understand Nena's...

DICK 99...

TOM Luftballoons... You'd prefer...

DICK To...

TOM Listen...

DICK To Nine...

TOM Inch Nails, or Maroon...

DICK Five...

TOM Blink...

DICK 182...

TOM The B...

DICK 52s...

TOM UB...

DICK 40...

TOM Or...

DICK One...

TOM Direction.

DICK Nah, f**k that! They're shit.

TOM Won!

JACK: Hello, Bradfield Hospital, extension 247.

SAL: Ah, good morning. Is that Dr Algernon Banks, from the department of local anaesthesia?

JACK: No, sorry, this is Dr John Bartholomew. I am also a local anaesthetist.

SAL: Oh, pardon me: wrong number.

SCENE: DEAL OR NO DEAL TYPE GAMESHOW

HOST: So, Jimmy, you know how the game works. 22 red boxes. And just one question...

JIMMY: Should I put my hat on?

HOST: No, that's not the question I was thinking of. But sure, put your hat on if you want. There are no rules here at Deal Or No Deal! Except, of course, for all the RULES.

JIMMY: (PUTS HIS HAT ON) Should I pick the first box now?

HOST: OK, stop filming for a second. Sorry, Jimmy, could you take your hat off, please? It might screw up the edit.

JIMMY REMOVES HIS HAT

HOST: OK, Jimmy, pick the first box.

JIMMY: I'll go for... Number six.

HOST: Ah! Now, why have you chosen box number six? Is it an important number to you? Are you a fan of The Prisoner? Is it because the Lord our God created Man on the sixth day?

JIMMY: Well, er, none of those things. It's just random, innit...

HOST: OK, stop filming for a second. Look, Jimmy. I know it's random. You know it's random. We all know it's bloody random. But just pretend you've got a system, or you're into numerology or whatever, so there's an actual reason for picking each box number.

JIMMY: Yeah, but it's just a game of chance, innit...

HOST: Look, Jimmy. I know it's a game of chance. You know it's a game of chance. We all know it's a motherf**king game of chance, Jimmy, but we've got to drag this programme out for an hour. So say some stuff about the number six.

JIMMY: (sighs) OK, I'm going to pick number six, because, er, it's my wife's birthday.

HOST: OK, stop filming for a second. How is 'six' your wife's birthday? If I asked your wife 'when is your birthday?', then she wouldn't just f**king say 'six', would she?!

JIMMY: Sorry. It's all I could think of.

HOST: OK, let's forget about box number six, Jimmy. Pick another box. And you'd better make up a proper bloody reason for choosing it.

JIMMY: Oh! Um... OK, I'll go for box number thirteen. Because... Well, some people say that thirteen is unlucky, but it's always been lucky for me, because I remember...

HOST: OK, stop filming for a second. I only asked for a reason, Jimmy. I don't want to hear your sodding life story. Christ! Pick another box.

JIMMY: Argh! Um... Box nine, box nine. Because it's an important number in, ah, numerology. It's, er, spiritual, and stuff.

HOST: Great! So, who's got box nine... David! OK, David, open box number nine.

DAVID OPENS BOX NUMBER NINE, WHICH HAS THE £100,000

CROWD GASPS

HOST: Oh dear, how tragic, Jimmy. You've lost your chance of winning the hundred grand already. What are the chances of that?

1930's Radio Show. Presenter Samuel...

Samuel:
Now, we've had an awful lot of words in that last segment so it's time to change tack and go to numbers. Who better to usher in figures and digits talk than stat king Jack Sproncils. What have you got Jack?

Jack:
It's a good job that you transferred over to me when you did. Another four seconds and we'd have changed over to another phase of the moon.

Samuel:
Not really what we're looking for. Give us a stat.

Jack:
Flac mountain goat milk - A whopping 83% of people say they have never tasted it. 12% say they hate it and the remaining 5% claim to drink it daily. What's strange about that you might wonder - Flac goat milk doesn't actually exist.

Samuel:
Well, what are they drinking then? Great big glasses of nothing? And what are the people who don't like it tasting? How can they be put off something that they never had....and never will the useless buggers.

Jack:
We did delve deeper and statted up their next answers too.

Samuel:
Stattedtatted but do go on.

Jack:
So, of the 13% who didn't like it, 8% had a vague recollection of tasting it once and not liking it. Another 2% said they still drink it because of the health benefits. The remaining 3%....well, they all claim to have gotten into a fight with the said goat, lost, and the goat forced them to drink its milk.

Samuel:
What!?

Jack:
Of the people I've told that story to, 97% have said 'what' in that exact same astounded fashion. Delving deeper, of that 97% only-

Samuel:
Stop delving so deep! Come back up towards the surface.

Jack:
Did you know that giraffes are 30% more likely to get struck by lightning than humans.

Samuel:
And did you know that 100% of you is going off on another mad tangent.

Jack:
I'm bringing it back around. Of those giraffes roughly some ensmallify.

Samuel:
What's ensmallify?

Jack:
They get smaller. Roughly around the size of a goat but still with the same milk quotient of a very large mammal, not a goat-sized mammal, namely a goat.

Samuel:
So what happens then?

Jack:
I'm saying it....They develop a great urge to stowaway on ships and travel across Europe. Such is their need to offload the milk, they'll pummel any bystander or threaten to break a limb and then force the milk upon them.

Samuel:
And these are the Flac goats.

Jack:
There's currently a 72% chance that I know what I'm talking about.

Samuel:
You're supposed to have two stories. Have you got anything else...to filled the allotted time?

Jack:
William Calf.

Samuel:
I was hoping for more than a name. Not much of a stat really.

Jack:
William Calf was an electrician. A very precise electrician I might add. He could wire a plug from 50 yards; he once installed a brand new lighting system with his hands tied behind someone else's back....how many electricians does it take to change a light bulb?

Samuel:
I don't know. How many electricians does it take to change a lightbulb?

Jack:
One. William Calf....He was so precise. He had to start his job exactly on the hour and finish the same way. If he went even a minute over the hour, he'd wait until the stroke of the following hour to compete his job.

Samuel:
I hate people like that.

Jack:
Precise?

Samuel:
Idiots.

Jack:
It would infuriate him sometimes and often wished for the ability to even go back in time a single moment to finish on the dot. On this occasion he was high up on a remote hill and had worked long into the night on a creamery masters house to wire in a very unusual and complicated electrical grandfather clock. He had finally worked out the snags and aimed to finish on the stroke of midnight.

Samuel:
Don't tell me he went the whole night through.

Jack:
He was on track and was poised with his four wrist watches, all showing the same time. Ready to bring the clock to life. Three-two-one - Bong! The clock struck William. Toppled down on him with an almighty crash. The exposed wires inevitably electrocuting him.

Samuel:
So that was the end of him?

Jack:
Not exactly, but everything seemed to go backwards for him after that. His thriving business faltered, he retreated into himself, he even seemed to grow down. Eventually he was the height of a goat and even his name began to reverse. Calf became Flac.

Samuel:
Wait a second, high up a mountain, creamery master who works with milk, Calf became Flac, and grew down to the size of a goat....No, I thought I had something there but I lost it. You're supposed to link it all together.

Jack:
It's obvious!

Samuel:
Well you've failed to make me get it. And that was stat man Jack Sproncils folks. Failing again, goodnight.

End.

Otterfox.

I always admire Mikes ability to come up with those quick fire list exchanges but Aplate pips it this week.

Otterfox. I particularly liked all the stuff about William Calf, "even his name began to reverse" etc.

Otter for me too - it was too long, really, but had the juiciest lines.

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