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TGNders Xmas Special ~ 2004
Fade up on Floella sitting at a desk. There’s a small plastic Christmas tree in front of her. She’s shouting into a mobile.
Floella: “What the hell do you mean I’m tied into the contract you scrote!”
Floella notices the camera.
Floella: “Oh for fu … oh alright! Welcome to the TGNders Christmas Special. I’d summarise the plot so far but what’s the point? Nothing that happens in this episode will have any bearing on the plot anyway. It’s a Christmas Special! Live with it!”
Fade down, and up again on…
… it’s snowing in the Square, and it looks like a scene from a Victorian Christmas card. The gas lanterns cast warm pools of light through the smoke from the roast chestnut stall run by Marilyn Martin, who is wearing a Santa hat and looking cheerful. Dr. Drake Ramoray passes, struggling home from the surgery with a large goose under one arm and a pile of gaily wrapped presents under the other.
Street urchins Alastor, The Sith Lord and The Dark One are standing on a corner singing carols. They are barefoot and ragged and carrying lanterns. A hunched figure shuffles by, muttering. It’s Lady Boy.
The Dark One: “Spare a ha’penny for a poor street urchin, guvnor?”
Lady Boy: (Shaking his stick at them.) “Bah, humbug! Xx”
dr48 and Mr Christmas Party Hat, for some reason wearing stovepipe hats and mufflers, hurry towards the brightly lit Mary Rose where everyone is gathering for the Christmas party.
Fade up on the interior of the Mary Rose. Lizzy Pop is spraying Tim with fake snow. Enter Felt Monkey. He’s wearing a Santa hat, elf boots and home-made tinsel posing pouch.
Lizzy Pop: “Wow, Felty, nice pouch. Makes me feel all Christmassy. Where’d you get it?”
Felt Monkey: “Made it, actually. Suits me, don’t you think? Sets off my thighs. Everyone should have one. It’s the shape of things to come.”
A low sinister voice from behind makes Felt Monkey jump. (Well, more of a disco side-step.)
The Shape: “Did someone mention my name? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long, long time. Ah, The Mary Rose. Come, Koff Drop. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be careful.”
He holds the door open for Koff Drop, whose arms are full with a pile of flyers. Koff Drop sidles to the bar and leaves a flyer, wiggling his eyebrows up and down furiously.
Tim: “What’s this then? Are youse advertising something?”
Koff Drop: “Ha ha! The very idea! Me? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Still waggling his eyebrows, Koff Drop sidles backwards out of the pub, followed by The Shape, both cackling. Lizzy Pop examines the flyer. It shows a picture of a pointing hand, and the words “Are YOU right for The Christmas Party?”
Enter Fighter of Foo and Mr. Fantastical, arm in arm. Foo spots the flyer.
Fighter of Foo: “What’s this then? It looks like a rival party! The cheek! Oh well, I wouldn’t go to it even if they asked me. It’s elitist and immature.”
There’s a strained silence and Foo visibly starts to twitch.
Fighter of Foo: (Clearly desperate to leave) “Well … er …. I’m just going… outside … for … something … I forgot .. um … yeah.. Bye!”
He starts to edge towards the door, then darts back and grabs the flyer and runs.
Felt Monkey: “Ah well. What are you looking so depressed about, Lizzy? It’s Christmas. You should be gay, like me.”
Lizzy Pop: “I dunno…. I’m worried. There’s something about Christmas Specials … er …. I mean Christmas parties. Everyone seems to want to get something off their chests. It’s always so traumatic.”
Tim: “Don’t be stupid. No one on the Square has any secrets. We’re like one big family. That’s why we all spend Christmas at the pub rather than at home like normal people.”
dr48 and Mr Christmas Party Hat arrive. (Yes it took them that long to cross the square, alright?)
Mr. Christmas Party Hat: “Wooo! I’m coming up so you’d better get this party started!”
dr48: “Yeah! Let’s get rocking around that Christmas tree!”
Mr. Christmas Party Hat: “So … where is the tree then?”
There’s a stunned silence.
Mr. Christmas Party Hat: “You don’t mean to say you haven’t got a tree? How the hell are we supposed to have a Christmas party without a tree? Where will the presents go? Will no one think of the presents?”
Mr. Fantastical: “For the love of Flair! No presents?! But what about my video of the 100 Greatest Wrestling Disasters?”
Lizzy Pop: “He’s right Tim! This is a nightmare! Where will we find a tree on Christmas Day? We might as well cancel the whole thing.”
Tim: “Feck off will we! There’s got to be one out there somewhere. I’ll be right back.”
Tim rushes out. At the bar Lizzy Pop serves new arrival Inspired Irritation a drink.
Inspired Irritation: “Yeah, it’s a nativity play, but people misunderstand the church these days. It’s modern, it’s with it! The shepherds are lesbian organic farmers and the wise men are gay! And it’s set to an Iron Maiden soundtrack!”
dr48 is talking to Raine over a pint of milk.
dr48: “You know what this needs?”
Raine: “A real East End fight?”
dr48: “No, partly because we live in the West End, but also partly because that would be terribly inconvenient. You know I can’t fight in a skirt, and I haven’t waxed my legs this afternoon.”
Raine: “What then?”
dr48: “Presents!”
Third Eye: “Did someone say present?”
All: (As Third Eye reaches for his flies.) “Nooooooooooooooo”
Corinthians starts crying in terror. Then stops when she realises she’s diluting her drink.
dr48: (Loudly) “So ANYWAY! I got everyone some presents. Firstly, a nice maid’s outfit for Lizzy Pop as well as a ticket to the next Robbie concert. I also got Corinthians this ticket to the pugs.”
Raine: “The who now?”
dr48: “No, not The Who, the pugs. The local dog show is coming to town.”
Ignoring the fact that the local dog show was always in town, due to it being the local one, dr48 carries on anyway.
dr48: “And of course, no Christmas would be complete for Corinthians without a couple of pints of dry sherry.”
Raine: (shocked) “Just a couple? She’s going to be disappointed this year”
dr48: “I’m afraid there just isn’t enough drink in the world for that gal. Anyway, then there’s this “Best Indie Bed-Wetters In The World … Ever!” compilation CD for Apocalypse Dude. I’m sure that’s the kind of thing he’s into. Well, Theory of Games assured me it was. And I found this video in the corner shop for that Inspired Irritation guy. It was hidden away on the highest shelf for some reason, but it’s clearly Christmas themed. It’s called The Sugared Plum Fairies.”
Raine: “What … er … what are those men doing on the front?”
dr48: “I’m not sure. It’s a bit smudged. Sucking plums, by the looks of it. I’m sure he’ll love it. I also bought Koff Drop some shampoo.”
Raine: (Gasping) “You can afford Champagne?”
dr48: “No no, it’s just some Head and Shoulders.”
Raine: (Confused) “What for? He’s … er…”
Lizzy Pop: “Another drink, boys? I must say I’m starting to relax a bit. Looks like there’s going to be no drama in this ep … er … I mean … at this party at all. Even though it’s Christmas.”
There’s an expectant pause.
dr48: “Surprisingly it would seem you’re ri…”
Dr. Drake: “I can’t hold it in any longer. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Super Al: “I know. But I have something I must tell you. I’m gay.”
In the stunned silence there’s a commotion from the bar.
Kid A: “No! I’m gay! And I used to be a woman.”
Felt Monkey: “Shut up shut up shut up! I’m the only gay here! And I’ll prove it!”
Felt Monkey grabs the Inspired Irritation from behind. The sound of the doors to the pub crashing open breaks the stunned silence. Everyone freezes. It’s Air Raven.
Air Raven: “I have something to tell you all! I found Skies of Arcadia dull! That’s right! Dull!”
Stunned silence.
Cut to another table where Zebedee is sipping Vagina Envy’s eggnog.
Zebedee: “So, Vag, why did you want me to come for a drink?”
Vagina Envy: “I have something to tell you.”
Zebedee: “Oh yeah?”
Vagina Envy: “I’m your mother.”
Zebedee: (Suddenly transformed into a screeching Cockney) Yaaaawer not myyyyy muvvaaa!
Vagina Envy: “Yeeess Iiiiiii aaaam!”
Zebedee: “Noooo yaaawwwr noot!”
Vagina Envy: “No? Really? OK then. Sorry. My mistake.”
They both look vaguely embarrassed and stare into their drinks. Well, they both stare into the same empty glass because they were too tight fisted to buy a drink each.
Cut to the local Mafia table where Super Al, Apocalypse Dude, Numpty and Ilweran are in conference. They’re wearing paper party hats. Ilweran leaps up, knocking the table over with the sweep of a muscled arm.
Ilweran: “Shut it you chavs! Numpty and me run this taaan, and it ain’t big enough for the four of us! This is war!”
Numpty: “Well, boys, you heard the lady. She’s gonna rip your throats out!”
Stunned silence.
Zebedee: “Blimey. Do they know it’s Christmas time at all?”
Cut to a corner table where Third Eye and Ren of Heavens are arguing loudly.
Third Eye: “I can’t believe we’re arguing about this! You’re ruining Christmas! Slade are the daddies of Yuletide singles!”
Ren: “No! Cliff Richard is the daddy of … daddy of … oh god I can’t keep it hidden any more! Third Eye, I have something to tell you.”
Third Eye looks expectant.
Ren: “I am your father, Third Eye.”
Third Eye: “That’s not true! That’s impossible!”
Ren: “Search your feelings. You know it to be true.”
Third Eye: “Nooooooooooooooooooo!”
There’s a stunned silence.
Enter local copper Runover Hedgehog. He spots Corinthians at the bar.
Runover Hedgehog: “Drink, love?”
Corinthians: “You taking the piss? I’ll have a gin. How was your day, dear? You worked late.”
Runover Hedgehog: “Well, it’s the policeman’s lot, innit. Christmas, eh? Turkey and decorations are all very well, but it’s the Festival of Crime! There’s no rest for the police.”
Corinthians: “Why did you join the Force, love? I never did ask you."
Runover Hedgehog: “Ah, well …. the Force is strong in my family. I have it. My father has it... and … my sister has it.”
Looks meaningfully at Corinthians.
Runover Hedgehog: “Yes, it’s true.”
Corinthians: “You’re not my bruvva!”
Runover Hedgehog: “Yess I aammm!”
Corinthians: “Naaaaah yaaaaaar nooooooot!”
Stunned silence.
Corinthians: “No, seriously. You’re not. You’re supposed to be my husband… er… I mean ‘long-term life partner’. Haven’t you read the character breakdowns?”
Runover Hedgehog looks vaguely embarrassed.
Vagina Envy: “You’re all gay.”
Stunned silence.
The door crashes open once again. It’s Tim, carrying the small plastic Christmas tree we saw on Floella’s desk in the first scene
Tim: “None of youse worry! I’ve found one! That presenter bint put up a bit of a fight but I floored her. Play School, my arse.”
Lizzy Pop: “But it’s tiny, Tim!”
Tiny Tim: “Feck off complaining! Oh … and … er… god bless us every one!”
DUM DUM DUM DUM~!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Written by Corinthians9:25 and dr48
Edited by dr48 and Corinthians9:25