Yes, the caviar factory is about to swing into production. Hurrah! I have also topped up my bile ducts and am ready to spew forth - but later.
In the meantime, for those even remotely interested, it was Jim Davidson who readers voted should be tossed out of the lifeboat (see "In Which Pither Has a Bloggiday" at the foot of this page). A fine choice, I have to say. Comforting as well to know that the Thatcher-loving, ultra-right-wing, pigshit-thick, sexist, racist cockney git only beat Steve Cornell, a tosser I used to work with, by two votes. Maybe next time - the sea SHALL have him eventually.
I have named him Doug. His oppo is, of course, Dinsdale.
4.2
2.7
8
1.6
0
5.9
Shaggy Blog Stories
1 comment:
Better late than never, I forgot I had prepared this:
--
Who Goes Over the Side?
Tony Blair
Gordon Brown
The entire Tory Party
Vlad The Impaler
The Krankies
Jeremy Clarkson
Steve Cornell (a bloke I used to work with)
Ronald McDonald
Jim Davidson
Pope Gregory XIII (1502-1585)
You of all people can't possibly be prepared to accept the prospec of just one of this lot going for a really big drink, so I conclude that this is a trick question.
Really, this is one of those riddles, isn't it? Like "you have a fox, a chicken and a bag of grain, river, boat, limited capacity, unlimited rapacity, get them all across the river in what order etc".
Ponder.
Let's approach it from the perspective of "best outcomes" and work backwards. Ideally, to maximise my survival chances, what do I want?
Me.
Someone to help paddle/fish.
Someone to talk to to help fend off insanity.
Someone of sufficient "value" to encourage rescue attempts.
All the "someones" could be the same person.
Pros: More food each. No chance of being outnumbered.
Cons: No backup if they die.
Maybe two or three people would be best.
We'll whittle it down first, using Natural Enemies!
As it is said "For evil to triumph, the good person merely has to sit back and do nothing". With this in mind, I'd sit back and do nothing.. until a crucial juncture. In the meantime, just watch people wipe one another out.
First, the Tories would immediately begin fighting amongst themselves, with many casualties. This would whittle them down tremendously, and have the further advantage that the remainder would be weakened.
Blair and Brown would initially remain tied to Party politics, and form an united front against the Entire(revised) Tory Party, putting an end to them without much effort due to the damage the Tories would already have suffered.
An uneasy peace would decend, briefly, broken by Brown going for Ronald mcDonald, teeth bared. Hamburgers are never far from his mind at the best of times, and that iconic familiarity exuded by the clown-like apparition would just tip him over the edge. Brown would eat McDonald raw.
Vlad would have to step in at this point; Vampires can't abide competition in a small space, and whilst Brown has been lapping up the last of the McBlood, Blair has been filling Vlad in on Brown's fiscal policies. No way can Dracula afford to keep Brown around - someone so adept at draining vitality from the entire UK population is just one alpha vamp too many. The battle would commence, but a temporarily sated and sluggish Brown would be no match for the fury of the undead, and Brown would be ended. Drac himself would do the old "stake through the heart" bit to prevent the Resurrection of Brown.
Thoughts of Alpha Males would have also been going through Pope Greg's head whilst this was going on. A bit of latin goading and we'd see Greg and Blair facing off, each claiming to be God's representative on earth. Blair's holier-than-thou attitude would have had ample time to reach critical pressure by this point, and the pontiff would have no choice but to excommunicate him with extreme prejudice - running him through with his sceptre.
Vlad would take heart from this reduction in boat piety levels and sink his fangs into the Pope. The pope, of course, would be ruined by the corruption of mark of Cain just as the effects of the large bottle of "the blood of Christ" he drinks every morning would make its holy-water-style effects known on Vlad. They would destroy one another in a flash of holy/unholy light and a small vacuum would mark their passing.
Steve Cornell is a bit of a puzzle. He sounds "blokey", asare Davidson and Clarkson, so we'll use their strengths against them, that which should unite them to split them apart. O joy.
I reckon the only way in here would be to quietly converse with Steve, Clarkson and Davidson, separately, about their fave cars. Then all I'd need to do is find a model loved by Clarkson and Davidson, yet loathed by Steve, or vice-versa, and casually bring the topic up in conversation. Battle would surely commence, especially with the pushy Davidson involved, and Steve would be joining the fish shortly thereafter, due to the 2-against-one dynamic.
I'd spend the next 4 hours sucking up to Clarkson by agreeing with everything he says. Clarkson won't be used to adoration, and being a bit of a petrolhead myself, I could blag it with sufficient panache to keep him from getting suspicious. This would neutralise him as a foe against me. Why would I need his good graces? Because I don't want him backing Jim up. Jim? Yes.
Jim Davidson I'd slaughter by myself, and gladly. If I never did another thing worthy of note, the thought of that alone would sustain me. I'd want it on my tombstone "Here lies the Noble slayer of Jim Davidson". I'd imagine that he would have fucked the Krankies off enough by then to warrant them tripping him up at a crucial moment, that'd be all the help I'd need, should the battle not look like going my way.
That'd mean I'd end up with the Krankies and Clarkson. A good balance, I think.
The Krankies are no threat, that's important, plus they do have a sense of humour of sorts, the appeal of which will doubtless increase once a fever sets in and things get a bit surreal. Plus, there's always the fairly substantial possibility that outside of their TV personae, they actually have a fine appreciation of more advanced humour.
As far as rescue value is concerned, the PR disaster for anyone who would let "Much-loved Childrens entertainers perish in ocean" doesn't bear thinking about. The ventriloquist's dummy will get us all rescued, never fear.
Clarkson, I'd imagine, would spend an awesome amount of time sulking, thus minimising the amount of time he spends speaking, but when he would speak he would act as a sort of poor man's Jeremy Paxman in contrast to the Krankies, with plodding ponderous cynical comments and terribly unfunny observations given in an unfunny manner. He would be the anchor which would bring me down to earth in a second if I found myself wilting under the Krankie onslaught. The balance would be important to maintain the middle ground of sanity. Plus, I do like to talk about cars - we all have our weaknesses, don't hate me.
I've only had to get my hands dirty once in all this. If we ever do get rescued, the Krankies will keep quiet about it because they were also involved. Clarkson's a manchild, he'd be so puppyishly grateful for my appearing to hang on his every word that he'd surely not grass me up. Even if he did, though, all I'd have to do is roll my eyes and mutter "typical bloody Clarkson, trying to be funny and clever" at the cops when he's telling the sordid tale and there'd be no further questions. No-one listens to him anyway.
It's not a 4-star cruise, but not the Titanic either. I win!
Post a Comment