F**king Hell! C**tgtasulazioningd to me for winking. I'll PM me with a subject for next wank. I won't really. It's a joke. Meanwhilst...
Me - 2
Gappy - 1
Next natterjerk: Numbers (chewed by me)
Leg closed: 31.7.22
Runners are nowt...
Position Score Name
1 11 Gappy
2 7 Me
3 4 Otterfox
4 1 Teddy, Alfred
FORTY JINKS
LECTURE HALL.
PRESENTER Good heaving, gentlemen a ladies, and welcome to this morning's Dud Talk. My name is Roger Monkee, and this afternoon I shall be proving that four is the magic number, the end-all and be-all, f**king cool. But first I require a volunteer from the audience - YOU, Sir.
BLOKE Me? Oh, f**k.
PRESENTER Oh, indeed, f**k: a four-letter word, you see? Come on, Sir. Up the four steps I had specially installed...
(Bloke gets on stage.)
PRESENTER Now, beFORE we FOREstall the - bugger, some food for FORt. What's your name, Sir?
BLOKE Engelbert Jackson.
PRESENTER Ah, Engelbert - nine letters, and nine is a prime number, like five, and nine minus five equals four, does it not, Sir?
BLOKE Um...
PRESENTER And Jackson... (thinks) Jack! Four letters! And what's your date of birth, Sir?
BLOKE Twenty-second of August, 1995.
PRESENTER Ah, twenty-second, a number, just like four! And August - the eighth month, and what's half of eight?
BLOKE (sighs) Four.
PRESENTER He said it! You see, gentlemen and ladies? And which year?
BLOKE I told you. 1995.
PRESENTER Which has four digits!
BLOKE Yeah, but...
PRESENTER Shut it, Sir... Now imagine you're surrounded by Megan Fox, Cameron Diaz and the Spice Girls naked. What do you think?
BLOKE Phwoar.
PRESENTER He said it again!
BLOKE No, I...
PRESENTER Shut it, Sir. Now I'd like you to list four bands you like.
BLOKE Er - Beatles, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Spice Girls.
PRESENTER Four! He said four bands!
BLOKE You told me...
PRESENTER Shut it. Now I'd like you to list as many colours as possible.
BLOKE Finally! Red, green, orange, pink...
PRESENTER Four! He gave four colours!
BLOKE I hadn't finished. Yellow, blue, indigo, violet...
PRESENTER Four! He gave four more! And more rhymes with four!
BLOKE I hadn't... Black.
PRESENTER Any more?
BLOKE No.
PRESENTER Need help?
BLOKE Not me.
PRESENTER Of course, he meant black, light black, dark black and very black! Four!
BLOKE Very black? That's not even a colour.
PRESENTER Very! How many letters in 'very'?
BLOKE Oh, this is stupid. (hits him, walks off)
PRESENTER What a foreskin.
SERVANT
Master, I have obtained with great pains the number.
GRAND MASTER
Ahh, the chosen number, to unlock the power of the great one at midnight, when the trine of Jupiter crosses the house of Zanith. Your work will be well rewarded. I hope you have revealed it to no one. If uttered before the hour, the terrible force will work only on the one who uttered it.
SERVANT
Not a soul on earth knows, not even me. I dare not look at its glorious evil.
GRAND MASTER
Then it shall have ultimate force when the clock strikes thirteen.
SERVANT
I thought we were doing this at midnight, master?
GRAND MASTER
You simple fool, thirteen is the hour of midnight in the kingdom of darkness, when clocks go backwards, and water runs uphill. Then we will witness its ultimate power on our enemy as he burns in hellish fire.
11.59 PM
GRAND MASTER
The hour is nearly upon us, now in this final minute I must have the number, ready to reveal to our great lord.
SERVANT
Yes Your Nastiness. Here you are.
GRAND MASTER UNRAVELS THE PARCHMENT
GRAND MASTER
Ah it with us at last, er...aaaaaarghhhhhh!
HE JUMPS AROUND IN HYSTERIA
GRAND MASTER
You fool, halt the ceremony, put out the candles, stop the clock!
HOODED FOLLOWER
What's up with him.
SERVANT
Oh he's all at sixes and sevens.
THE CLOCK STRIKES THIRTEEN
SFX - Pfffoooooooooooofffffffff, crackle, pop, crackle, fizzzzz.
GRAND MASTER
Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrgggghhh, uuuuuuuurrhhh, uuurhh, urh.
THE PARCHMENT WAFTS TO THE FLOOR REVEALING THE NUMBER 13
ENEMY TIED TO STAKE
Phew, thank f**k for that. Can I go now?
1 & 2:Happy birthday!
3:Ah, cheers, guys.
1:How old are you now?
3:Ah, well, you know what I always say: age is just a number.
2:That is so right. Age is just a number. A stupid old number.
1:And numbers, they don't signify anything.
2:What are they? Just squiggles in a book.
1: Or on a bus.
3:Exactly. Age is just a number, a dumb number which accurately captures and communicates the amount of time I've been alive. Can't imagine anything that means less. So, do you fancy joining me at the pub?
1:Yeah!
2: Definitely. Shall we go at about 1 AM?
3:Err...won't the pub be closed then?
2:Can't see why it would be: time is just a number. One more fat stupid number. Means nothing.
1:Literally zero.
3:Yeah, alright, we'll hang out here, then. Shall we get some grub in? Who fancies a pizza?
1: Pizza's just a food.
2:And food is meaningless. It's a senseless, fatuous absurdity with no bearing on life. Pizza is just nothing in a circle.
1:And circle's just a shape, so...
3:Yeah, sure, that's all true. But if we don't go to the pub, or eat, what shall we-
2: S Club 7's just a number!
1:And a letter.
2:Yeah. A number, and a letter, and the word "club". Who cares? Let's get the wine open!
3: Oh yeah! Pour that wine.
1:Hang on! I bought that wine. You need to pay me your share.
3: Sure. Fair's fair. The wine was nine quid, we'll give you £3 each.
1:The wine was £9.49 more like! So you'll give me £3.16 each. Even then I'm 2/3 of a penny down on the deal. Don't you two even know how to divide by 3, you twats?
3:Twat is just a genital, it doesn't mean anything. I wasn't born yesterday, you know.
1: Oh, yeah, you weren't. And how old are you, again?
2: Don't answer that. Sentences are just words.
3:And words are just phonemes, and phonemes are just noises so...
[LONG PAUSE, THEN FADE]
THE IMPORTANCE OF TIMES TABLES
MR BALLOON: Now, class, we're going to learn times tables. Do any of you know what times tables are?
BOY 1: No, Mr Balloon.
MR BALLOON: Times tables are, um, each number multiplied by another number, in order. And you learn it off by heart, and then you can automatically say 8 times 8 is 64, or whatever.
BOY 2: Do we get a qualification for it, Mr Balloon?
MR BALLOON: Oh, good Lord no, you don't get anything for it. Just the satisfaction of being able to say that 12 x 8 is... um... 96. I think.
BOY 2: Why bother?
MR BALLOON: Good question, lad. More to the point, though, why are you two boys the only children in this class?!
BOY 1: Er... Don't you remember, sir? There was a nuclear war, and the three of us were the only survivors! And this classroom is the only structure on Earth that remained intact, for some inexplicable reason! We're all slowly dying due to the lack of food and water.
MR BALLOON: (LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW, SEES THE AFTERMATH OF NUCLEAR WAR) Ah, yes. Sorry, lads. I'd momentarily forgotten about our plight. It happens sometimes. I suppose it's my way of coping. Trying to ignore the fear of our impending doom.
BOY 2: So, do we still have to learn our times tables?
MR BALLOON: Yes, of course! Times tables are useful. You'll need them if... Sorry, you'll need them WHEN... you grow up.
BOY 1: How often do grown-ups need to use times tables in everyday life, then?
MR BALLOON: (PAUSES) Er... Not that often, actually. In fact, hardly ever.
BOY 2: So can't we do something else? I mean, if nothing exists anymore outside this classroom...
MR BALLOON: But don't you see, child?! We're dying! We're the last three people alive on Earth! We have to do something... We... We...
MR BALLOON GASPS AND COLLAPSES
SILENCE FOR A FEW SECONDS
BOY 1: Jeepers! I think Mr. Balloon's kicked the bucket!
BOY 2: Yeah! And his last words were "wee wee"!
THE TWO BOYS LAUGH, GRADUALLY BECOMING HYSTERICAL, THEN START SOBBING AND STARE OUT THE WINDOW AT THE ASHES AND DEBRIS OUTSIDE. FADE TO BLACK
Alfred this wank.
A fun round, but it's definitely A Plate for me.
Yes I'd have to plump for Plate's satire here but thank you Michael.
Good round, gappy's tale of the strange nihilistic birthday gets my vote.