StoriesThe camera pans to the grey-haired Welshman sat behind his desk. “Good Evening and welcome to this special BBC edition of Celebrity ‘Evil’ Mastermind!” said presenter John Humphreys. “On tonight’s edition – my last ever for reasons that will become apparent later – we have a special show lined-up for you and in order to show balance we have three Right Wing narcissists and one Commie here to answer a series of questions in the allotted time of two minutes!” “Let’s meet them!” continued the former newsreader. “From the USA- President Donald Trump!” The POTUS turns and...
Read MoreDai Commando looked just like any normal person. Average height, average weight even average shoe size. But underneath he was no ordinary G.I. Joe. You would never hear it from Dai’s own lips, but the regulars in his local public house in Dowlais- the T.A.’s (The Tredegar Arms) would tell you- whilst he may have served in the Royal Marines – ‘He was Made in Merthyr’. Mainly because he was conceived on top of a wheelie bin behind Wetherspoon’s in Post Office Lane. Dai Commando turned his I-pad on ready for his 11.00am Zoom Meeting. It was top secret and confidential...
Read More... Robert Godber was the last Punk left in the South Wales Valleys. It was nearly 43 years since the Sex Pistols had shocked the Rock N Roll Community with their slogans of Never Mind the Bollocks and God save the Queen. How times had changed. So had the slogans too. Never Mind the Botox and God shave the Queen was more relevant to 2020. However, strangely enough he was still Public Enemy No 1 in the little valley Town of Merthyr Tydfil, as despite the health warnings of Covid-19, the dirty bastard still insisted on spitting on the pavement everywhere he went....
Read MoreAnimal Rights activist A.L.F. Egan lay completely still in the long grass, high above the Welsh Valley of Cwm Twp. He motioned to his 15- year old accomplice, ‘Popeye’ Doyle, to lie still until the factory searchlight had passed overhead. Once it had done so, the pair all dressed in black and camouflage gear used the wire cutters to snip the perimeter fence. In the distance was a grey metallic building called Abbot’s Trois, owned according to Companies House by a French Company based in the Tax Haven of Jersey, called Vaches Mort R-US. A.L.F. & Popeye didn’t call it...
Read MoreThe queue from the main tent was six deep and stretched for nearly two miles back to the little Powys town of Hay-on-Wye. The reason was the release of Howard Marks new book at the Hay Book festival.The former Oxford Graduate and Welsh mastermind of a European Cannabis Ring sat ‘smug’ly. Who said crime doesn’t pay. The best selling author had released his latest in a series of books with a view to helping his former fellow prisoners bide away their time in jail. Like the author himself, the release date had kept going forward, as the US backed Drugs Enforcement Agency had objected...
Read More“ What do you think of the wheels then?” asked Astra the professional car thief from the Gurnos. “ Nice…!” nodded his hoodie friend Elvi$, as he climbed into the front seat of the mini-ambulance. The vehicle sped away at breakneck speed on the Gurnos Ring Road heading towards Galon Uchaf. “ Where did you get it?” asked Elvi$. “ He stole it from outside the Gurnos Home for the elderly!” said a voice from the back of the vehicle. Astra broke suddenly and a lady with whiter hair than Philip Schofield shot forward in her wheelchair to join the pair in the front. “ Who the...
Read MoreHis luck had finally run out. Reynaldo the Red Fox was suspended, hanging on a barbed wire fence by his stomach. The more he twisted, the more the barbs sunk their teeth into his pink soft underbelly. He was trapped and he knew it. He was literally kicking himself that he should get caught this way- in such a simple fashion – as he a very intelligent creature. He had misjudged the take-off, slipping on some sheep-shit. Reynaldo had for over a decade, survived the harsh Winter temperatures, and rainy Summers that Gwynedd in North Wales had to offer its native fauna....
Read MoreLittle Daniel Boyd was lost. The seven year old thought he was clever, when he ignored his teacher’s command to hold the hand of his classmate on a trip to Dan-yr Ogof caves in the Glyn-Neath Valley. True, it was an act of revenge by his teacher, Mr Don Oxbridge for his recent behaviour in class at Gwaun Dowlais Primary School in Merthyr Tydfil. Dan had sulked because he didn’t want to be paired with gypsy, Gustavo Worrell from the local travelling community that lived close to the Slip Road in the former mining Town, as he more ‘bugs’ than a spy from GCHQ in Cheltenham....
Read More“ Alright Mun!” said the young lawyer. “ Keep your hair on will you!” It was somewhat ironic really, as Welsh Barrister Leo Felix was only 23 but his fair hair was already receding more than a Norfolk beach at High tide. “What are you doing in there… you nonce?” shouted an angry commuter, as he repeated banged on the lower half of the train WC cubicle door. He thought about warning the angry man that what he had just said in front of his fellow passengers was actionable as a slander, but sight unseen he suspected that the individual wouldn’t have cared less nor had the...
Read MoreBy Screenshot from "Internet Archive" of the movie The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) - https://archive.org/details/RevengeOfFrankenstein-Trailer , Public Domain, Link “Igor…. I’ve cracked it!” said the Professor. His hunched- back laboratory assistant looked up at his Master and let his tongue loll out of the corner of his mouth. He stared back with the same look of loyalty on his lop-sided face, that a Pit Bull Terrier would give to its owner whilst sitting on a Vet’s Death Row. “I’ve dedicated my entire working life of 60 years as a research scientist at this...
Read More“Is there is any p-p-person here with a j-j-ust impediment then let him s-speak now or forever hold his p-p-peace” said the stuttering Priest. The Roman Catholic Holy Man, Ollie Water, didn’t normally have a stutter, but when he had been given the task of marrying the daughter of one of the Heads of the Five Taffia Families to one of the those with links to the Provisional IRA- it was understandable. The Priest looked around him at the congregation of St Illtyd’s Roman Catholic Church in Dowlais, Merthyr Tydfil and noticed on the right side of the church the number of men...
Read MoreCouncillor Phil Bent was in a jam. He was in a right hole. He had been given a wedgie on many occasions as Chairman of the Planning Sub-Committee but this was a first. Buried up to his waist in an old Air-Shaft in Mountain Hare meant he couldn't move a muscle. Below him a 30 foot drop and above him only sky. His search for the 500 metre buffet zone at East Merthyr Land Reclamation scheme had proved fruitless. He checked the Council Minutes.yes there supposed to be a buffet zone. There was no such thing as a free lunch he moaned as he hung suspended in the air by his three spare...
Read More‘The North wind did blow and Merthyr had snow and what did poor Farrah do next?” sang Dean ‘Belle’ End as he sat on the vandal proof metal bench alongside the Merthyr Railway Station. The sound caused Farrah to turn around sharply, exposing his nether regions to the bleak March air. His coat, made entirely of Bar towels ,acquired from the many pubs he had visited on his personal tour of the Rugby Six Nation Countries and beyond, offered little protection from the elements. His roman sandals acquired from a trip to Rome in 2009 , were further evidence of his total disregard for...
Read More“ Hot Dog Sir?” asked the pimply faced burger vendor. Council official Job Swurth didn’t look happy...but then again he never did. “ What the Hell are you doing?” he moaned at the bemused van owner, Rann Cydd. “ Selling burgers from a lay-by...everyone does it in Wales!” he laughed merrily. “ But this is the Galon Uchaf acceleration lane to get on the A465 (T) Heads of the Valleys Road!” barked Job shaking his head. “ That’s what’s clever about my pitch....everyone has to stop!” said Rann. “ It’s all about location...location...location!” he said boastfully. “...
Read MoreThe cars engine spluttered and coughed for the last time as he parked his ‘Popemobile’ outside the house of one of his parishioners in Crabapple Close Gurnos Merthyr Tydfil. He hoped that the first time this call was genuine. He really wanted to do battle with the Devil face to face . He looked up at the bedroom window and could see a luminous eerie glow inside. His bumper sticker ‘Honk if you love the Lord’ was the only sign that he was a Man of God ….that and the small silver image of a fish attached to the back. Silverfishes were common in that part of the world. This was the only...
Read MoreThe father and son made their way through the underground car park of the Civic Centre in Merthyr Tydfil. They were in luck. They didn’t have to walk through the crowds of people that were stood in the forecourt outside the main entrance. Pressing the lift call button repeatedly, little Thomas was happy. At the age of seven , everything was a game….no money worries…it was like being on his own Civil List . His father , Richard tried to fake a smile, he knew he was at the Civic Centre for more serious business. He was there to see the Council Social Services...
Read More.. “ The weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful...let it snow, let it snow let it snow!...Nos Da!” declared camp weatherman, Derek Brockway live to the nation from the BBC studios in Cardiff. “ Since when have you been interested in the weather Charlie?” asked Tommy ‘Hilfiger’ Silverback to the leader member of the Lavender Road Mob. “ Duh!....since I learned that the boss man Mr Bigg gets coded messages over the BBC about his delivery times for his drug shipments!” laughed Charlie Kong. “ Mr Bigg...who’s dat den?” asked Alan ‘Tit-che’ Guevara. “ He...
Read More"The North wind did blow and Merthyr had snow and what did poor Farrah do next?” sang Dean ‘Belle’ End as he sat on the vandal proof metal bench alongside the Merthyr Railway Station. The sound caused Farrah to turn around sharply, exposing his nether regions to the bleak March air. His coat, made entirely of Bar towels ,acquired from the many pubs he had visited on his personal tour of the Rugby Six Nation Countries and beyond, offered little protection from the elements. His roman sandals acquired from a trip to Rome in 2009 , were further evidence of his total disregard for Valleys...
Read More“Good night and good luck!” said the Curator Derek Dunny as he locked the huge wooden front door of the Cyfarthfa Castle Museum. The only Grade 1 Listed Structure in the whole of the Merthyr Tydfil Borough was imposing looking at the best of times, but on a dark wet Winter’s evening it was downright scary. Safer Merthyr employee Dicky Knight looked around nervously. It was his first night as a security guard and he didn’t feel very safe. “Everything looks so much more scary in the dark!” he said to his shadow, who was his only companion for the night. Merthyr Council too had...
Read MoreThe sound of a helicopter buzzed overhead as the terrified Welshman cowered in his impromptu sand dune bunker.The soldier dressed in green khaki combat gear stood out like a pork pie in a Jewish buffet against the yellow sanded backdrop of Helmond region in Afghanistan. The war on terror wasn't working as far as Harry R. S. Crack was concerned. The sound of explosions all around him sent him deeper down the steep sides of the bunker as he began to suck his thumb for comfort. He suddenly realised that he was not alone, as a ginger haired soldier dressed in a German Africa Korps...
Read MoreRead more 'Boz' tales here “ What’s their pool team like then boyz?” questioned Fast Eddie Felson dressed in his white hat and black and white brogues as he sat in the back of the minibus. “ Not bad- they have a few Welsh players but nothing we can’t handle on and off the table!” said Bobby Mogzy cricking his knuckles. The boys in the team minibus, had set out from the Iron Horse Public house in Galon Uchaf Road ,Merthyr Tydfil at 6.00pm to arrive for 8.00pm. They knew if they arrived late, they would be docked a frame every twenty minutes. It was a...
Read MoreRead more 'Boz' tales here Her long hair flowed all down her back, as should stood next to a fruit machine in Victoria Street, Merthyr Tydfil. Her doctor had advised her to change her diet and change her habits if she wanted to live past 40. As the reels on the machine, whirred electronically and stopped with a red cherry icon, two bananas and an orange. She had lost her money again, even if she had nearly had her medically recommended five fruits a day. It was Wednesday and teenager Amber Punt was skint. She had had her state ‘benefit’ and wasted...
Read MoreHe was nervous at the best of times but tonight he was positively bricking it. The lights went down on a hushed audience at the Aberdare Coliseum and the adrenaline rush of the young fledgling comedian intensified. He waited for the nod from the stage manager before he went out into the Cynon Valley Snake Pit. He wasn’t being paid he was just volunteering…a YTS trainee comedian …as there were precious few jobs in the Valleys he thought he would give it a go…and his tour of the South Wales clubs was starting to take off. After all if Rhod Gilbert could make it on television...
Read More“It is the year of our Lord 1644 and we are gathered at this Hamlet of Gyrnos, to witness a trial to determine the guilt or innocence of Margaret, the straw roofer’s daughter, who is accused of being in league with the Devil!” declared the Puritan dramatically. The man was dressed all in black from his stovepipe hat down to his cape and trousers, with only a square white frilled ‘ruff’ , adorning the area around his collarbone. He held a silver-tipped cane in one hand and use it somewhat belligerently to command respect from the assembled crowd. “ This wretch is accused of...
Read MoreDipping Your Wick by Phil 'Boz' Evans The student rugby player looked around nervously. He was regretting his bet with his mates already. Manfred Quinn had never told anyone but he was frightened of the dark. It was one of the more common phobias that humans suffered from and dated back to the dawn of mankind and the dulling of man’s principal defence of the sense of sight making them more susceptible to attack from a predator. Standing on a plinth in Madame Tussaud’s wax museum in Baker Street, London, he felt like a fish out of water, but knew that his beloved...
Read More1 CommentsThe man lay silently in the savannah grass of the Ngorongord valley in Tanzania. He didn't dare breathe or move for startling the Thompson's gazelle that he had tethered to a small Acacia tree. From his clothing, you would never have guessed that he was Welsh- only his WRU rubber wrist band on his right 'trigger' hand gave it away. The Blackwood Dentist, Major Orion Jekyll- Hyde-Hunt, was the veteran predator of the Serengeti, as he approached his 75th Birthday intent on giving himself an early birthday present. He wasn't using the little antelope for target practice- he was after much...
Read MoreNewly expectant Father Declan Anthony Pod paced nervously in the corridor of the Maternity Wing of Llanelli Hospital. The Year was 1972 and like every Rugby Union Fan in Wales, he secretly wanted a son to follow in his on-field footsteps and play rugby first for the Scarlets and then for Wales. The timing of his Wife’s labour couldn’t be any worse, as on this very day, Llanelli were playing host to the International Touring Team New Zealand. The Grand Stand ticket in his shirt pocket was burning a hole in his heart, as he was caught in the horns of a dilemma. Did he sneak off to the big...
Read MoreBack to Welsh Literature page > Ewe Tube “C’mon Mun….it will be an internet sensation!” said 16- year old Brecon Farmer Kane Boddy. His older brother Abel wasn’t so sure. He preferred to trust his own judgement rather than his brothers. The pair sat astride their skidoos on the peak of Pen Y Fan, the highest mountain in the Brecon Beacons National Park. Kane had his mobile phone out ready to film the stunt- if only he could persuade his brother to do it. “It’s only 886 metres Mun…straight down from the ‘Col’ to Cribyn…it will be Hell of a ride!” said Kane...
Read MoreHe replied that he was protecting her from mosquitos in the absence of a net. Gertie slept with one eye open for the rest of the night. As did Myles, although it was on his Cialis enhanced knob which eventually tickled him under the chin to wake up to a glorious Venetian Morning. They both dressed for breakfast and went down to the Breakfast Room in an uneasy silence. The room was quite full with most of the seats and tables taken. There was a full Sky TV film crew and several well- known actors buzzing back and fore for the continental breakfast. Myles recognised the one off the...
Read More“ Can I take the blindfold off now?” protested his long suffering wife. “ Yes ..okay!” said Myles Soginist to his spouse Gertie. Blinking in the strong Italian sunlight, the 75 year old lady didn’t have a ‘scooby’ where she was. Her husband, not normally the romantic type, had booked a surprise ‘Golden Anniversary’ to celebrate their 50 years together married. “ What do you think then?” he said triumphantly as she faced the sign Veneto Aeropourto. “ Bit noisy isn’t it!” she complained but not for the first time ever. “ What did you expect…it’s a bloody airport for Christ’s sakes!” he...
By Philip evans, 2020-08-09
The camera pans to the grey-haired Welshman sat behind his desk.
“Good Evening and welcome to this special BBC edition of Celebrity ‘Evil’ Mastermind!” said presenter John Humphreys.
“On tonight’s edition – my last ever for reasons that will become apparent later – we have a special show lined-up for you and in order to show balance we have three Right Wing narcissists and one Commie here to answer a series of questions in the allotted time of two minutes!”
“Let’s meet them!” continued the former newsreader.
“From the USA- President Donald Trump!”
The POTUS turns and smiles at the wrong camera.
“From Islington London – former Leader of the Opposition – Comrade Jeremy Corbyn!” said the presenter.
The Cameraman adds a special Newsnight filter to make it look like he is wearing a Red Ushanka hat complete with hammer and sickle on the front.
It is plainly visible as an add-on- as Corbyn nods towards the viewers at home.
“Liberty Peace Prize Winner and former Prime Minister Tony Blair!” announces Humphreys.
His Royal Tonyness, smiles cheesily, just like a ‘Cheshire Pony’ at the little screen whilst looking around for the autocue.
“And last and by all means least- current Prime Minister of the United Kingdom but mainly England- Boris Johnson!”
Boris is slouched in his chair, dishevelled blonde hair pointing in all directions, just like a schoolboy who hasn’t been dressed by his Mother/Nanny that Morning.
“Who Me?” replies Johnson as the studio goes quiet – all the time looking around for Dominic Cullings.
“So first up, we have the Leader of the Western World, President of the United States of America, Donald John Trump- if you would like to take the chair?” invited the presenter.
“Take it where?” replied Trump.
“It looks GREAT (showing all of someone else’s teeth in his mouth) but I have better one back in the White House in Washington back home in the US of A- it is probably made in China anyway….!” He continued unabated.
After a hand gesture from Humphreys towards the Hot Seat- Trump made his way slowly – just like a bear nurturing a ten pound turd but unable to find any woods close by- .
No sooner than he had sat down heavily breaking the thing than he uttered –
“Definitely China… look how easy it broke under my nine stone frame- Do I have to raise my right hand for the Holy Book like the Grand Jury?” asked Trump.
“‘No-there is no book for you to swear on!” replied Humphreys.
“Good-not a bigly fan of books anyway-don’t colour or read them anymore!” replied the President.
“So, your chosen subject is?” asked Humphreys.
“Me!” replied Trump
“Okay -you have two minutes on your specialist subject starting now!” said the Presenter speeding up towards the end of the sentence.
“ You were born on 14 th June 1946, what sign are you?”
“Cancer!” replied the POTUS.
“Incorrect- you are Gemini- the Twins” said the Presenter.
“Fake news….there is only one Donald J Trump!” replied Trump.
“What number President are you?” asked Humphreys.
“Number One- better than Osama- less impeachable than Nixon!” said the Don.
“Incorrect- 45 was the answer!” continued Humphreys.
“Fake news- 45 was the answer I gave to the N.R.A to stop the school shootings- I told them to arm the teachers and the children too, that way they would have a fighting chance if the terrorists attack- it’s the in the American Constitution – the pursuit of happiness- Will Smith or Kayne West told me- I can never tell them apart-!” replied Trump.
“Are you referring to the second amendment and the right to ‘bear arms’? “replied the quiz host getting all confused by the replies.
“Who wants bear arms?- there’s nothing wrong with these human ones I got!”
Humphreys shook his head- half of the allotted time was up and he had concluded that this President’s head was more shot than JFK.
“Which political party do you represent?” asked the interviewer.
“Is this a trick question? Oh KKK… because I am tempted to say I was ‘Putin Power” by my good friend and good friend to America….to help turn back the clock…return to the use of fossil fuels and that fake global watering ….install coal burning fires and surrounds and make America ‘Grate’ again!”
Humphreys just shook his head and ploughed on.
‘So, what excuse did you give to dodge the Vietnam War Draft?” asked Humphreys.
“It WASN’T an excuse… said Trump glaring at the Welshman….”I had bone spurs…if you don’t believe me ….ask Stormy Daniels ‘She will confirm… I had them on when riding her dressed as a Dallas cowboy!”
“‘I’ll accept!” said Humphreys.
“What did you claim was your favourite rock album on Radio Station Minneapolis Burning?” asked Humphreys.
“Houses of the Holy by Led Zeppelin!” replied the Orangeman.
“Incorrect- it was the Wall by Pink Floyd!” said the presenter.
“Fake news- I don’t like any rap music by protesters from Dixieland or is that Disneyland?” replied the walking Tango Advert.
The end of round claxon sounded.
“Congratulations Mr Trump you scored one and pissed on two -Russian Prostitutes that is-!”
Trump smiled to himself- remembering that experience warmly- whilst sleeping in the shallow end of that impromptu Moscow waterbed.
He had beaten his own high score and now deserved a UK tax-free Costa Cofefe for his efforts.
As he had been sat in the Hot Seat under the BBC studio lights- there was a pool of orange liquid underneath the chair and a familiar stain on the back of his fawn golfing trousers.
“Second Contestant would you please come to chair!” asked Humphreys.
‘Please state your full name for the record….I would remind you that anything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you probably out of context and to our own ends…do you understand?” asked the BBC Griller.
“I understand…Jeremy Bernard Corbyn… but known to my followers simply as JC!” said the former Leader of the Opposition.
“ Bernard!” sniggered Humphreys.
“As in Bernardo O’Higgins, the Chilean Communist Guerrilla Leader?”
“Yes but No but he was a Freedom fighter!” replied Corbyn made to sound like Little Britain character Vicki Pollard.
“And your chosen specialist subject is?” asked the questioner.
“Allotments that changed the World” replied Corbyn.
“Okay!” sniggered Humphreys once again.
“You have two minutes starting now!”
“How do they arrange the ‘radishical’ movements of root vegetables in the Moscow State Allotment Society?”
“In Red Squares!” replied Corbyn.
“Correct!” announced Humphreys.
“Which vegetable was King of the Hippies, John Lennon promoting with his bed lie in protest with Yoko Ono in Amsterdam in 1969?” asked the presenter.
“Peas!” – replied Corbyn.
“Give peas a chance!” he said quoting the dead Beatle.
“Correct!” said Humphreys.
“He is giving him the easy ones!” moaned Trump as he put his tiny ‘GI JOE’ sized hand up and whispered behind the back of it at the other two contestants.
“What luminous vegetables did the Conservative UK Government import in bulk from Mother Russia in 1986 because they were cheap to supply to the poor?” asked Humphreys glaring at a different kind of luminous vegetable for the interruption.
“Chernobyl Carrots- they came with a ‘glowing reference’ and a shelf life of 1-5 years!” replied Corbyn.
“Correct!” said Humphreys.
“A bit like his chlorinated chicken then!” said Corbyn nodding at the Political Oompa Loompa.
“Fake News!” came the broken record reply.
“What was the name of your Palestinian cook book about your fresh allotment produce penned in 2016?” asked Humphreys.
“From Hummus to Hamas!” replied the weirdy beardy.
“Which record did you say you would take with you if you were castaway on a deserted atoll off Cuba on Radio Four’s Desert Island Discs?” asked Humphreys.
“Rhapsody in Blue by the Gershwin Brothers” replied Corbyn.
“George always stole the limelight from his elder brother so I felt a little sorry for him!” he continued.
“Correct-so, we can confirm on the BBC that you are now an admitted IRA sympathiser?” said Humphreys seizing on the slip.
“Do you know -there are thousands of women in this Country on NHS waiting lists and I am always the first to get smeared!” replied Corbyn- red smoke then liquid emanating from his ears- just like a poisoned Communist Pope.
“What group are Angel of Islington blood oranges?” asked the interviewer.
Corbyn shook his head and looked doubtful for the first time.
“Blood Group A Positive- as they contain a red wedge?” said the fairest Prime Minister this Country never had.
“Incorrect- it was O-Jeremy Corbyn- O- Jeremy Corbyn!”- sang Humphreys in a Pre-Covid-19 Glastonbury 2017 White Stripes tune….”But your Trotskyist Red Blood Group is noted!”
As the claxon sounded- Humphreys announced that Corbyn had scored 5 out of a possible 6 and not passed on any questions- unlike the current Prime Minister Boris Johnson in his time at the Despatch Box in Parliament.
“Fair play- the many and not the few!”
Corbyn flicked a V at Humphreys before turning and heading for his vacant seat.
“Next up- we have former Prime Minister of the United Kingdom Anthony Charles Lynton Blair!” said Humphreys.
The darkened BBC studio was lit up by the most enormous set of gnashers to grace the place since Esther Rantzen had a ‘sausages’ face- off with Theo the Poodle.
“Hi, I’m Tony!” announced the politician.
“Well would you like to tell the audience at home what your specialist subject is tonight?” asked Humphreys.
“Spin Doctoring, manipulating the media and how to win elections!” replied the former PM, whilst continuing to smile at the camera the whole time just like a ventriloquist dummy.
“Okay , Mr Blair you have two minutes on the subject starting….NOW!” Said Humphreys.
“Can’t I have three?” asked His Royal Tony-ness.
There was a pregnant pause before John Humphreys replied
“Okay- because you put it so nicely, you can have three!”.
There were howls of outrage from the previous two contestants who were busy muttering the phrase ‘BBC Bias’.
“That’s spin for you!” Blair said smiling all the while.
“Question one- Who did you recommend to be your successor in the Labour Party in 2010?” asked Humphreys.
“Anyone BUT him!” said Blair pointing a manicured finger with painted nails with a red rose on each one in the direction of Corbyn.
“Correct!” said Humphreys to howls of protest from his Left Wing.
“The Momentum is really with you now Tony!”
“Who do you think will lead the party to victory in the 2023 General Election?” asked Humphreys.
“Someone in my own non-spitting image- a fellow barrister- someone with a Christian Name of a famous Labour politician to sound like a convincing socialist but in actual fact is further on the right wing of the party than Charles Lindbergh!” continued the Blair Rich Project.
“As a politician are you going to give me a straight answer or what?” asked Humphreys.
“Keir Starmer!” announced Blair.
“Correct….at least he can eat a non-antisemitic bacon sandwich correctly!” replied Humphreys.
“What is the difference between WKD and WMD?” continued Humphreys.
“They found WKD in a bar in Iraq- but no WMD?” replied the Blair faced bliar.
“Correct!”- said the presenter.
“Phew….!” replied Blair with a noticeable single bead of sweat added by the BBC make-up department to give the impression he was under pressure.
“What is the difference between Bosnian Serbian leader Dragomir Milosevic, Rudolf Hess, Hermann Goring and Tony Blair?”
“Pass!” said Blair as quickly as possible.
“Who was responsible for securing the Belfast Agreement ‘Good Friday Peace Process in Northern Ireland?” asked Humphreys.
“It was me- I should have got a ‘Tony Award’ for it!” Blair said modestly- nose enlarging slowly.
“Fake news!” came a shout from the dark- but not from the USA Orange State but from Corbyn instead.
“It was ME that met with Sinn Fein over a couple of McGuinnesses!” protested the Allotment King.
“John Hume would be turning in his grave if he heard THAT!” replied Blair.
“Conveniently- you would have to EX-HUME him to validate that- and that would take some special SPIN DOCTOR to boot!” said Corbyn.
“I Trimble at the very thought!” replied Blair.
“Correct!” said Humphreys much to the bemusement of Corbyn.
“It would appear for a man who believes in unilateral disarmament, you have a strong militant tendency -any more interruptions Mr Corbyn and I will have you removed from the studio and your gulags sent to the four corners of the former United Kingdom!” threatened Humphreys.
“I will have you know that Saint Blair of Edinburgh here has a history of receiving Peace Prizes- he won a Liberty Medal for his ‘commitment to conflict resolution’ in 2010.!” Said the BBC presenter.
“Which immigration barrister is set to defend the Shamina Begum appeal case?” asked Humphreys.
“My Cherie Amour!” sang Blair just like Stevie Wonder.
The Claxon sounded and the presenter announced.
“At the end of that round Mr Blair, you have scored five and passed on one-what is the difference between Bosnian Serbian leader Dragomir Milosevic, Rudolf Hess, Hermann Goring and Tony Blair?”
“The answer to that is you were all born under the star sign Taurus and capable of talking a lot of bull!”.
“I can think of a different one!” shouted Corbyn- as he was dragged away with his arms restrained by two burly undercover policemen wearing Rachel Riley tee-shirts marked ‘Taking the Countdown!’
“And to think you Guys are part of the same Labour Movement!” chortled Humphreys.
“Of course- we are!” smiled the Grinch that stole a Party.
“Next up we have Prime Minister Johnson!” announced Humphreys.
Boris was slumped in his chair, lolling like he was Jacob Rees-Mogg, lying across the front benches of Parliament.
At the sound of his name, Boris put on a smirk across his face that Stephen King Horror Clown character IT would have been proud.
As Bozo the Buffoon, slid his way towards the chair Humphreys’ manner seemed to change somewhat.
“Please would you fasten your seatbelt Mr Johnson- it is a conditional requirement by the BBC Director General in your case!” ordered the wily Welshman.
“Bloody EU Health & Safety!” mumbled Johnson under his alcohol enhanced breath.
Boris did as he was told.
No sooner than the seatbelt was clicked shut- Humphreys ducked down behind the desk just like the bar tender in the custard pie throwing scene of Bugsy Malone.
And in his place appeared BBC News Presenter Andrew Neil.
“Crikey….I have walked into a giant elephant trap!” Boris spluttered.
“Good afternoon Boris….it seems like you won’t get away from me after all!” said Neil.
“Yikes- why do I get the feeling I am about to be scoured by a Brillo and his I-Pad?” gulped the PM.
“So, please state your full name for the audience and chosen specialist subject!” asked Neil.
“Boris Johnson….sex. lies and the odd videotape!” said the blonde former Etonian whose hair made him look as if he had been dragged through a hedge fund backwards.
“Incorrect!” said Andrew Neil.
“It’s Alexander Boris De Pfeffel Johnson!” came the reply.
“I say old boy that’s a bit below the belt!” mumbled the man of the people.
“So why did you give the home address of a journalist from the News of the World to your friend Darius Guppy in 1993?” asked Neil.
“Uhhh….I thought he wanted to send him a ‘Get Well Card’…!” stuttered Boris.
“But he wasn’t unwell at the time- now was he?” countered Neil.
“Well he was about to be- I was just a little ahead of time on that one!” said the PM.
“So- an easy one next- How many biological children have you spawned so far?” asked Neil.
“Pass!” said Johnson.
“When you were Mayor of London you made more U-Turns than Dick Whittington but did you try to erect your own version of a ‘garden’ bridge whilst trying to ‘remain’ at the top of the poles?” interrogated Neil.
“Let’s just say it is not just Britain and America that has a special relationship!” replied Bojo.
“Unless you give me a straight answer… I can’t award you the point!” said Neil.
“Granted!” replied the PM.
“I’ll take that as a different kind of ‘pass’ then!” replied the interviewer.
“ Can’t I get Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby instead?” asked Boris trapped in the hot seat like an inadequate stunt man in the movie Fifty Shades of Grey.
“Wrong channel!” replied Brillo off the top of his head.
“Nigel Farage keeps going on about that!” replied the Eton Mess trying like all politicians to witter on about nothing to run down the airtime.
“Tubby, what Planet are you on?- You can’t hide in a fridge this time!” replied the former Hard Times man.
“Zanuzzi?” mumbled the buffoon.
“So, why did you grant permission for Dominic Cullings suffering from the coronavirus to drive five hours to Durham at the height of a pandemic?” barked Neil.
“Or allow Pa Churchill to fly off to Greece when everyone else is stuck with quarantine?
Boris placed his fingers in his ears and started to make ‘la- la noises’ to override the tough questions.
“This isn’t PMQ’s!” shouted Andrew Neil as he administered a 15- volt electric shock direct to the PM.
Boris’ eyes widened for the first time and his blonde hair suddenly went like it had been combed and immaculately groomed- just like Max Headroom or the new Keir Starmer look.
“You can’t torture people…. this is England not Saudi Arabia!” protested Boris.
“Don’t you remember your 60 MP majority voted through to repeal the Human Rights Act when you left the European Union!” replied Andrew Neil evilly.
“I don’t remember that!” said the shocked laboratory monkey.
“It was just after Christopher Chope vetoed the up-kilting mobile phone ban in Scotland !” recalled Brillo.
“Is that the one that upset Nicola Sturgeon and made her a little Krankie?” asked Boris horrified.
“Here is a Presidential Order signed by Donald Trump that as part of the US/UK trade deal negotiated by Pork Baron Liz Truss that this studio is now controlled by the Walt Disney Corporation of Florida and thereby all Federal Laws of that Orange County State now apply in this Studio!” continued Neil.
“To include the electric chair and death penalty for failure!”
“So Boris, you REALLY are in the Hot Seat!”
“But answer me one last request before you push that button and fry my brain what did the UK get in return?” asked Boris.
“Silk stockings and chocolate!” came the reply.
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The Early Years
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