Who Wants To BNP A Millionaire?

TAKEN FROM AN UN-AIRED EPISODE OF WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE.

Chris Tarrant: “Hello and welcome back to Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? I’m still here with Al Beano. He’s currently got £100.00. You ready to win some serious money, Al?”
Al Beano: “Mmm, certainly Mr. Tarantino.”
CT: “It’s Tarrant, honey.”
AB: “Mmm, Britain has got Tarrant. Mmm.”

[Audience boos & hisses. One man set's himself on fire and charges the stage.]

CT: “Thanks, Al.”

AB: “Look at my face, Chris. It’s wonderful.”

[Awkward 12 minute silence.]

CT: “Okay, let’s play!  Al, for £200… “

[Question pictured below.]

..

AB: “I would like to phone my brother.”
CT: “Are you sure? Take your time.”
AB: “Chris! You must allow me to call my brother!”
CT: “Okay, cool your jets, Al. Damn, you’re like an out of control beast… Okay, who do you want to call?”
AB: “Chris, you childish honky! Call my brother… NOW!”
CT: “Right. The next voice you hear will be your that of your brother Nick. You will only have 30 seconds, so use it wisely. Good luck.”
AB: “I don’t like your tone. Let me communicate with my sibling.”

[Uses phone a friend option.]

[Ring, Ring]

..

[Ring, Ring]

Nick Griffin: “Hello?”
CT: “Hello Nic…”
AB: “Chris, shut it!”
NG: “Who is this?”
AB: “It’s your brother.”
NG: “Oh. Hi sweety. Who was that?”
AB: “Chris so-and-so – not important. Answer me this.”

[Reads question and possible answers.]

..

NG: “Al, you ninny. That is SOOO easy. Even a thicky head knows that. Even a black thicky head knows that!”
AB: “Just answer the fucking question you fat faced, glass eyed, bed-shitter!”
NG: “Sorry, Al… I’m…I’m so terribly sorry. You can have my black fruit pastels.”
AB: “Just tell me the correct answer or I will slit your working eyeball with a straight edge razor!”
NG: “It’s: C. The answer is: Me: Chris ‘KKK’ Tarrant. Al, I’m speaking the truth. Please, I need a wee!”
AB: “Thanks, bro. Check ya later. Sweet!  It’s: C, Chris. That answer is: C. Easy!”

[Ends call.]

CT: “Final answer?”
AB: “Chris… Your face. You’ve changed.”
CT: “Are you sure? Is that your final answer?”
AB: “CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!”
CT: “You’re wrong! Dickhead!”

..

[Chris Tarrant produces a home-made Teleportation device and fires it at Al Beano. The results are catastrophic.]

..

.

..

World Championship Sperm Hurling

Multiple Miggs has been crowned the world’s greatest ‘Spidermanner‘ at the annual World Championship Sperm Hurling tournament held in Marsh Green, England. He was a surprise late entry after being wrongly declared deceased.

Multiple Miggs back in his cell celebrating a very proud moment in his life (sentence).

He was awarded his £34.72 prize money by last years winner Dame Thora Hird.

Previous winner Dame Thora Hird now lives in abject squalor.

Miggs smashed the jizz lobbing record of 27 miles (previously held by Thora),  by a staggering 401 miles. He is said to be “right pleased”.

Second prize was won by Her Majesty The Queen, who flung Prince Philip’s crusty semen a paltry 22 miles. She is said to be inconsolable.

HRH putting on a brave face after her crushing defeat.

Better luck next year, Ma’am.

Looking (glass) for love.

Take a candle, and go alone to a looking glass; eat an apple before it, and some traditions say, you should comb your hair all the time; the face of your conjugal companion, to be, will be seen in the glass, as if peeping over your shoulder.

Sounds good. Let’s give it a go, eh?
(I apologise for my terrible complexion in the photographs – I really need to start drinking more water.)

Mirror, mirror, on the wall / Show the beloved, for whom I shall fall

The candle part of the experiment proved problematic, as I was soaked in petrol (it covers the stench of gangrene), and therefore highly combustible, so I decided to skip that part. I also had to skip on the eating of the apple as I am allergic to them and was unwilling to risk anaphylactic shock. My hair had been brushed the previous week and so I skipped that part as well.
I began…

10 minutes later:

Still nothing. I felt peckish and craved an apple.

15 minutes later:

Still no sign of my future wife. I grinned at myself in the mirror and became wary of my reflection.

20 minutes later:

A shimmering outline crept over my shoulder. The hair on my neck rose and a ‘piss shiver’ shook my body. Here she came…

Me & Grotbags. I wonder what our children will look like?

It was Grotbags - the green 80’s witch… Oh, well-smart. [I had to fake smile. She was close to my jugular vein and so I didn't want to antagonise her.]

Erm, I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little disappointed. Oh well, que sera, sera…

I’ll be honest; I’m dreading our first date.

Apple Pie.

Here is how to improve any standard apple pie recipe…

A standard apple pie.

Ingredients for ‘Standard’ Apple Pie:

For the pastry:
255g/9oz plain flour
pinch of salt
slug pellets
beef stock cube
140g/5oz hard margarine or butter
6 tsp liquid LSD

For the filling:
3 large Bramley cooking apples, chopped, stewed and cooled
sugar/cocaine, to taste
caster sugar/amphetamine, to serve

Crunt tip:

To make it a ‘truly special’ apple pie, simply add an extra little fruit…

Now your pie is FABULOUS!

Big (Uncle) Ben Shocker!

Uncle Ben has crawled from the packaging of one of his many rice products and scaled the famous English landmark, Big Ben. He has somehow attached himself to the top of the tower, where he is currently vomiting white rice onto the ground below.

Uncle Ben sits atop Big Ben vomiting rice onto the city floor. A freak storm is said to have triggered his tomfoolery.

It is thought that Scottish bad boys, The Proclaimers, had discarded a packet of Uncle Ben’s Wild Rice on the ground adjacent to the famous clock tower. During a freak storm, a lightning bolt is said to have struck the packet of rice just as Big Ben was chiming thirteen. That seems to have been the trigger for Uncle Ben’s daring assent.

"See you Jimmy, we didne drop ney fackin' ricey. Ye get yeself tupped if ye carry on, ye dafties! Bloody dafties!" slobbered the heroin raddled thugs when confronted by police.

Onlookers said that seconds after the lightning struck, Uncle Ben began to omit a strange glow. The usually kind-hearted old man began to roar “like a wild beast”, before rapidly swelling in size (just like his delicious, fluffy rice), and slithering up the clock tower. His demands are currently unknown.

Here is the offending packet of 'Wild Rice'. Clearly visible is the ghostly spot once occupied by Uncle Ben.

Armed police and the Ghostbusters are currently at the scene. More details to follow…