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A never ending story


Gabbemaster

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...pile of spam that he had found on an internet thread somewhere. Being British, he had been brought up on spam, but he loathed it nonetheless, and decided not to give it a second thought.

 

 

 

Outside in the street, it was a dank, Bladerunneresque evening. He set off for the first of the bereaved homesteads, tapping his handheld GPS and inanely pointing it at the sky, as if that was going to help. Presently,.....

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(EDIT, Reason: somewhat unsavoury, so to speak)

 

...several of their diners had been closed down due to rat infestation, which gave him a rather interesting idea:

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  • 2 weeks later...
Perhaps if they served Spam instead of fried cat, the cats could look after the rats and the Brits could eat fried Spam, which they weren't very fond of but ate stocially none the less. After floating this idea to the board of directors of KFC, he was soundly thrashed. His idea could not work: firstly because they would have to change all their signs to "KFS", at a prohibitivaly high cost; secondly because the rats were actually the cooks, so there would be no-one left to fry the cats; and thirdly because ...
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"Doggone it, people like me!" the actor playing Stuart Smalley said, before turning to the camera.

 

People say that it's counter-intuitive for some reason --- probably because they forget that the whole routine here actually constitutes a camera change --- but this is actually a great place for a cut. In fact, if the actor moves a few centimeters before taping resumes again, that's even better. The audience picks up on it subconsciously, and it's slightly unsettling for reasons they can't quite discern. We have way too big a budget for this sketch to actually make the scene look campy, so we have to do clever things like that to maintain the right sort of appearance.

 

That's when it finally hit me:

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Right in the nay-nays, hard. A size twelve, patent leather with tassels. I knew that loafer, and the one attached to it: Hubert Mislay, the man I had beat out for the role of Stuart Smalley - they said his name just wouldn’t look as good in the credits as mine, who am I to argue. As I groaned feebly, I hear the director shout “And ... Action” then...
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Phwak! Right in the Smalleys. Size 69, latex feather with hassles. I gnu that toaster, and the one quite fond of it. Rupert Dismay, the man I had beat up for the roll-off Tiny Tim..... oh God, I think I'm gonna faint....

 

 

 

As the light fades from the screen of Stuart's famous final scene, the set takes on a wan and poignant hue, with surrealistic undertones both dizzying and macabre. Something odd is happening... a world not akin to our own is rapping on the very doors of sanity. The set spins, his head reels, and all at once he finds himself.......

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...talking to a shrink.

 

He knew it was a shrink because the woman was getting smaller right before his eyes. Soon there would be nothing left before his eyes. So he tried to focus on the centre before his eyes.

 

The shrink misread the look and believed he was staring down her cleavage.

 

She whipped out an axe for the purpose of adding to the cleavage using his head but....

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