F**king Hell! C**tgtasulazioningd to Otterf**ks for winking. PM me with your subject for next wank, pleased. Meanwhilst...
Otterfox - 2
Gappy- 1
Next natterjerk: Sport (chosen by Gappy)
Leg closed: 31.5.22
I'm leaving it open (tee hee) so it's a bit longer (tee hee) in the hope of attracting more particic**ts. Going Down...
Runners are nowt...
Position Score Name
1 2 Otterfox, Gappy
2 Me
HERE IS THE NUDES
RADIO STUDIO.
PRESENTRESS Good evening ladies and gentlemen and you, and welcome back to this morning's Tonight Show. The latest celeb to claim it's self-empowering to post nude shots of her body - which just happens to be perfect - is tennis starette Ashley Harkletoad, and we've got your comments flooding in faster than a Ruskie to a defenceless little village. First it's, 'Hey girl, if ya gottit, FLAUNT IT! You look FABULOUS! Show what yer got, girl!' - and that's from Monica Slumdon of Stoke: well said, Monica! GIRL POWER! Next up, it's, 'Hey girl, if ya gottit, FLAUNT IT! You look FABULOUS! Show what yer got, girl!' - and that's from Mary Molehill of Skegness: well said, Mary! GIRLLL PPOOWWWEEEERR! And next, it's 'Hey girl, if ya gottit, FLAUNT IT! You look FABULOUS! Show what yer got, girl!' - and that's from David... DAVID? You sexist bastard. Have a little respect, you dirty, filthy, misogynistic little perv.
PINDAR:Then, after the pink, you finally pot the black, and the player with the highest score is the winner.
QUINTUS:I can't believe you came up with that game all by yourself, it sounds amazing. What did you call it?
PINDAR: Snooker.
QUINTUS: Say again.
PINDAR: Snooker. Kind of captures the feel of the game.
QUINTUS: Does it? I'd have called it something to sum up the whole experience. Like baizeball.
PINDAR:That's already a game.
QUINTUS:Alright, pocketball, then. Or Potting. Or CueKnock.
PINDAR:I guess.
QUINTUS:Whereas you've named your whole game after a single piece of tactical activity that often doesn't even result in any points.
PINDAR:But the flipside of "often" is "occasionally", so...
QUINTUS: Stop me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't it be quite normal for whole games to go by without anyone even doing a snooker?
PINDAR:Wee-lll...maybe a bit.
QUINTUS:Hang on! I know what this is about! It's because we wouldn't let you change the name of cricket to Playing off the Back Foot to Score Boundaries.
PINDAR:I also would have been happy with Fast Bowling to the Off Stump to Engineer a Catch from Behind.
QUINTUS:And you'd have been the only one who was. And that's not to mention your campaign to rebrand rugby as Whispering Rude Things in the Scrum to Put the Other Team Off and Sometimes Biting their Ears.
PINDAR:It's still called that in my heart.
QUINTUS:In your arse, more like. Listen, you can't just rename sports after tiny, incidental element of their gameplay.
PINDAR:But I can if it's a new sport, right?
QUINTUS:Well, err...
PINDAR:And I invented snooker, so snooker it shall be named.
QUINTUS:[SIGH] I guess so.
PINDAR: Sweet. In that case, I'll let all the other ones drop. We friends again?
QUINTUS:Yeah, sure. What say we nip out to the pub?
PINDAR:Rather! Oh, and how about a game of Mental Arithmetic and Alcholic Obesity?
QUINTUS: Pardon me?
PINDAR: Oh, sorry. You call it darts.
EXT. DAY. ARIEL SHOT PANS OVER A TOWNSCAPE.
SWEEPING MUSIC ACCOMPANIES.
NARRATOR (documentary style):
Rising from the depths of despair, traversing misery and misfortune is Clonderton; a town that the industrial revolution bypassed entirely. A town that's failed, a community that failed the town and a government that's failed them both. That was until one man rose up and asked his brother to do something about it. Who in turn, called his cousin. She contacted her sister who knew a man perfectly positioned to help. This is the story of that mans uncle.
JACK (uncle):
When the call came, I knew the hopes of a whole town rested on my shoulders so I contacted my gardener.
CUT TO GARDENER.
GILBERT (gardener):
Well the town was in desperate need of a dramatic pick-me-up. It had been in the doldrums since its founding. It was time to give the people something to be proud of.
GILBERT STARE AT CAMERA CONFIDENTLY.
GILBERT (cntd):
So, I began by simply manicuring a local field, cutting the grass short and painting random lines on it. I put nets at either end to catch butterflies. My assistant Barnaby misherd my instruction and thought I'd said to coach butterflies so he started off by giving them a tiny football. As this is my story I'll pass you over to Barnaby.
BARNABY:
This was going to be amazing - the first ever butterfly football team. The locals bought into the idea and came up with many names for it: Butterball, butterfoot, flyfoot, mothball. We even had the local seamstress design some jerseys. We had a special changing room built, songs were written, the mood changed, the gloom lifted.
INTERVIEWER:
So how did they get on?
BARNABY:
Hmm? Well rubbish. The butterflies never really grasped the footballing concept on any level and most of them were dead within days.
INTERVIEWER:
So what happened then?
BARNABY:
We do what we always do. We called a meeting, put our heads together, pooled our resources and gave up.
ARIEL VIEW OF SAME TOWNSCAPE AS CAMERA SLOWLY PANS OVER AGAIN AND GRADUALLY DRIFTS AWAY.
NARRATOR:
A town in the middle of nowhere, a speck on the landscape. For one brief moment, for a fleeting second a light shone on this dreary town. The air thick with gloom once cleared for us to gain an insight into their world before the black clouds gathered again and our view was obscured forever....or so we thought.
DRAMATIC UPDATE APPEARS ON SCREEN WITH SUITABLY ACCOMPANYING MUSIC.
NARRATOR:
We went back two years later. My brothers cousin picks up the story.
EXT. DAY. BEAUTIFUL STREET.
KIDS HAPPILY PLAYING, FLOWERS ADORN THE STREETS AND BUILDINGS. PROPRIETERS OF SHOPS AND SHOPPERS LAUGH.
PRESENTER:
This time we penetrated the gloom that encircles the town. I'm delighted to say that I'm on foot. We went to Clonderton but conditions were much the same so we came to this much nicer town instead as it looks way better. I'm delighted that this show can make such a difference to the towns most in need of it. From me Phil-
PRESENTER 1 EXITS SHOT, PRESENTER 2 ENTERS. THIS SWAP OUT HAPPENS WITH EACH SUBSEQUENT PRESENTER.
PRESENTER 2: -lip.
PRESENTER 3: Mont-
PRESENTER 4: -gom-
PRESENTER 5: -er-
PRESENTER 6: -ie.
ALL SIX APPEAR IN SHOT.
ALL PRESENTERS:
Goodnight.
Close but Gappy.
I can never remember Latin, but nil desperandum.
Otter for me, if nothing else, then for the line, "We called a meeting, put our heads together, pooled our resources and gave up".
Mikes social commentary is strong but it's Gappy for me this week.