Grand garbled gobbledegook
Grand garbled gobbledegook
About a month ago, a family member was having a clear out and was taking lots of stuff to a car boot. Out of curiosity I found a Whisper 2000. Something that had graced the pages of glossy mags back in the late 80s. Essentially it was a snopping device. Hear conversations from over 200 metres away, burbled the adverts gayly. Excited I picked up the Whisper 2000, expecting to hear all sorts of conversations that I would never normally be able to hear. Perhpas time had aged the device, but as I switched it on and tried listening to a conversation in the hallway, all I got was horrible feedback. The machine wasn't working very well, just churning out a load of grand garbled goobledegook. Oh well.
Re: Grand garbled gobbledegook
JG wrote:"It's not doing anything" tutted Steve in annoyance.
"They've done something to it" he grumbled. Even Pauline wasn't listening.
Then George popped in. Steve moaned at George.
"It's not doing anything. £200 in and it hasn't lit up yet. It hasn't whistled, apart from a poxy four away. Full up from the off"
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that could kill.
Steve moodily accepted the ticket and lurid condom coloured pen and carried on noncholantly pressing start. Dum dum dum. The reels humming, the Xs and Bars floating around.
"This is disgraceful. I could report them to trading standards. This machine states clearly it's on 92% payout."
"Hello Darling" cooooed Andrew as he flaunted flamboyantly and gayly past Steve, George and Pauline. He definitely wasn't talking to Pauline.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that would scare a deaf hardened Army Corporal.
"No thanks chuck, hey has this one paid out yet?"
"No. Jewy fucker. None of them have paid. This one has taken over £200. No whistles or bars."
Andrew popped in a quid.
There was a whistling sound. Wheep!-Whoop! Wheep!-Whoop!
Steve's face contorted into thunderous anger.
"Oooooh it must be my lucky day!" burbled Andrew, without being fat or sweaty, but every so slightly....happy.
"It's huuuurble hurrble Time" announced the machine.
Carol popped over.
"I never understand this one. It's so complicated. You've got three bars, what does that mean?"
"It means he's a jammy git" laughed Steve, his laughter twinged with agony and mild resentment.
Industriously the £35 chugged up on the red LED. Andrew popped in a quid. £1.00........£0.50.........another trio of yellow biscuits bounced into view. Andrew shoved in some more coins.
"It that any good?" asked Carol.
"If winning £70 off £1 is good, then that's good" said Andrew....
"ISN'T it you sexy beast?"
I had a horrible feeling that Andrew was talking to me, as Pauline had gone around the other side to play a Magic 10. Perhaps he was talking to Pauline. I mean that would be.....a little bit.....errr...gay wouldn't it otherwise. I mean. Hmmmm.
£2.50.....a flicker.....a flutter and £2.00
Another representation of bars.
"Fucking fucker fucker" said Steve, summing up the situation with perfect eloquence.
The red LED clounted up to £105, chugging away like a procession of gay people doing the Conga.
"Dooo doooo doooo" sang Andrew happily.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann in a voice that would make a shell shocked senile Brigadier reveal his best emptiers.
The green LED rose to £105 before autopaying.......£2.00......flicker.....flutter........£1.50........
Some more bars!!! This was some serious spawn.
"I've not seen it do that for a while" noted Pauline
"Has it Steve? not done it for a while, nor for you George......how much did you put in it last week?"
"Loads.....over £300 I imagine."
"He never did!?!" minced Andrew.
George noticed he didn't say darling.
Deja vu as another credit break and more bars.
We were all frozen to the spot. Maybe some more spectators joined us. It was pretty spectacular. Coins gushed out of the hopper periodically and it just kept taking those credits and the jackpots kept coming.
Tony closed shut his briefcase and had a quick word with Emma.
"I've put in one of those Dr. Who style hoppers into the hurble hurble game. Ok?"
"Dr Who style hoppers?"
"Yeah it looks like it holds only £250, but it actually holds 250 zooglion pounds."
"What's a zooglion?"
"I haven't got time to explain. I've told Carol and she knows all about it, plus the quantum space time dynamics behind the hopper's operational logistics. It's in the Hurrrble Hurble Game three. Carol is an expert on that....."
"....RAINBOW BINGO!!!!!""
"Who is that fucking lunatic who keeps shouting about bingo?"
"I've no idea, she's got a Shipley's uniform on."
"hmmmmmmmmm. Maybe she's a sp...."
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann
"Fuck me, that's loud"
"Hell yeah...see ya later..."
Emma disappeared into the office. Carol's brain melted as the logistics of hurbly hurble game quantum zooglion hoppers became a reality. In actual fact a later post-mortem showed that the realisation that bars paid £35 and Xs paid £5 and that a combination of both wins could be paid via a credit breaking streak caused the meltdown.
Meanwhile the coins kept on gushing.
"I'm going to need these changing....look they're filling up the tray."
"Quit moaning" moaned Steve.
"I've never seen anything like it" said Pauline.
"Harbla harbla harbla harbla" said Patsy.
Even the Hill Sisters were impressed and spun around cross legged, very fast on a spinny chair next to the Elvis machine.
"JACKPOT!" said someone.
The red LED chugged, yeah chugged up to £280. Another relentless credit break. By this time the whole arcade was watching. Even the one spawny bloke who turns up on the one day of the month that the Vamp hasn't been picked to death and proceeds to rip four jackpots out of it from a fiver. Even he stopped to watch. Even Andrew had to admit it was ridiculous. Surely it was broken. £315, £340, £375, £410......this was just rude. Even PMK couldn't lay claim to a £410 and STILL GOING repeat pot. No way on God's earth.
"It's ludicrous!!" he gurgled ecstatically before mouthing 'sexy'. Hmmmmm, perhaps Patsy had caught his eye.
Meanwhile in another dimension.
"HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!"
"Mr. Fluke...please be quiet." chided the Scottish lady.
Theresa tutted to herself in the cash office. Mr Fluke, or Mr. Flynn as he was actually called to people who didn't mispronounce his name, was being a nuisance.
"HEY NO!!! YOU'RE CHEATING" bellowed Mr. Fluke (we'll call him that for now as it's more apt in a story about gambling).
Mr. Fluke was of course bellowing at a poisoned apple, pictured within a budget s34 AWP.
"Last credits please Mr. Fluke..." the Scottish tones wafting over the slightly too loud music.
Mr Fluke was going to have to teleport (walk) to another dimension.
He plodded past a naked lady on a horse, a Primark and a hotel, a Hills, a McDonalds and walked through the doors.
SLIP! CRASH! BANG! He fell over on some pound coins.
"Sorry!" called Andrew, "My fault. I can't scoop 'em up in time and Emma has locked herself in the cash office as she's not changing these."
"HEY!!! I'M CLAIMING COMPENSATION. YOU CAN'T DO THIS" boomed Mr. Fluke as he passed out unconscious, the swelling tide of coins sweeping his body outside Club Release into the path of a taxi, a chav and a Bendibus.
"This is ridiculous" Steve groaned, suffocating within the increasing dense atmosphere of pound coins.
"This reminds me of playing What's in your box? on Hotel Street" said George.
"What's that George? You sexy beast!"
It seemed the pound coins were causing Doppler muffling reflex audio echoes and the name Pauline had become distorted to sound like the name George. Either that or Andrew was being very gay and camp.....No surely not. Anyone who sang along to Wham must be a red blooded male through and through.
Still the machine payed and payed. The ring road ground to a halt. The suberbs started to grind to a halt. People were in a state of panic and ecstacy. Here was untold wealth, the prblem being you could only scoop so much of it up and then, before you knew it, you'd be six feet under in a big gold underground world where you could see nothing only hear some faint music in the background and some maniac shouting RAINBOW BINGO every minute or so.
Next to ASDA a chap also called George was blowing smoke into the face of a woman spunking cash into a Deal or no Deal. Some coins started trickling through the door. It wasn't long until The Goose was subject to the same sort of treatment. Those lucky enough to be able to get to a computer could make out the central part of The United Kingdom as a big mass of gold on Google Earth. Ppffft not again, said the staff at The Goose.
The the crossing from Dover to Calais became a sea of gold, then a footpath of gold then a mountain of gold. Europe, then Asia, Africa, America, Australia, both poles became gold.
There was a credit break. The LED chugged gayly up to £100,000,0000zoooglebooglewooofruglymooglyfucktasticllyspooglyion,000. More bars.
It was then Ann realised she was in the wrong shop.
"RAINB.....no hold on...this isn't Shipleys......" oblivious to the coins she stomped out the shop, ripping out the power cord.
The music stopped. The coins stopped.
Andrew switched the machine back on andpressed collect. The hopper spat out all the coins bar one....
Wwhhhhhrrrrrrr....brrrrrwwwhwhwhh.....whhhhhhrhrhrr
IOU £1.00
"Emma!!! It needs a refill" cried Andrew.
"It needs a refill darling." he said, his voice sounding as if it was aimed at me.
"Jammy bastard" said Steve.
Then the world imploded in on itself, the collosal weight of coinage too much to bear. Everyone died. The End. Apart from Ann who somehow survived and has called to some Aliens in a far, far away Galaxy. They now all happily play bingo at half past the hour.
Yellow 2 and 7. 27. We do have a winner. Please hold on to your tickets whilst we verify this claim for £1 of tokens. BEEP! BEEP BOOOP! Take me to your leader.
I did try and read this one through... but didn't make it past the first couple of paragraphs sorry jg :P
-
GaryChandler
- Senior Member
- Posts: 2024
- Joined: Sun Sep 17, 2006 10:51 pm
- Location: Hampshire
"It's not doing anything" tutted Steve in annoyance.
"They've done something to it" he grumbled. Even Pauline wasn't listening.
Then George popped in. Steve moaned at George.
"It's not doing anything. £200 in and it hasn't lit up yet. It hasn't whistled, apart from a poxy four away. Full up from the off"
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that could kill.
Steve moodily accepted the ticket and lurid condom coloured pen and carried on noncholantly pressing start. Dum dum dum. The reels humming, the Xs and Bars floating around.
"This is disgraceful. I could report them to trading standards. This machine states clearly it's on 92% payout."
"Hello Darling" cooooed Andrew as he flaunted flamboyantly and gayly past Steve, George and Pauline. He definitely wasn't talking to Pauline.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that would scare a deaf hardened Army Corporal.
"No thanks chuck, hey has this one paid out yet?"
"No. Jewy fucker. None of them have paid. This one has taken over £200. No whistles or bars."
Andrew popped in a quid.
There was a whistling sound. Wheep!-Whoop! Wheep!-Whoop!
Steve's face contorted into thunderous anger.
"Oooooh it must be my lucky day!" burbled Andrew, without being fat or sweaty, but every so slightly....happy.
"It's huuuurble hurrble Time" announced the machine.
Carol popped over.
"I never understand this one. It's so complicated. You've got three bars, what does that mean?"
"It means he's a jammy git" laughed Steve, his laughter twinged with agony and mild resentment.
Industriously the £35 chugged up on the red LED. Andrew popped in a quid. £1.00........£0.50.........another trio of yellow biscuits bounced into view. Andrew shoved in some more coins.
"It that any good?" asked Carol.
"If winning £70 off £1 is good, then that's good" said Andrew....
"ISN'T it you sexy beast?"
I had a horrible feeling that Andrew was talking to me, as Pauline had gone around the other side to play a Magic 10. Perhaps he was talking to Pauline. I mean that would be.....a little bit.....errr...gay wouldn't it otherwise. I mean. Hmmmm.
£2.50.....a flicker.....a flutter and £2.00
Another representation of bars.
"Fucking fucker fucker" said Steve, summing up the situation with perfect eloquence.
The red LED clounted up to £105, chugging away like a procession of gay people doing the Conga.
"Dooo doooo doooo" sang Andrew happily.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann in a voice that would make a shell shocked senile Brigadier reveal his best emptiers.
The green LED rose to £105 before autopaying.......£2.00......flicker.....flutter........£1.50........
Some more bars!!! This was some serious spawn.
"I've not seen it do that for a while" noted Pauline
"Has it Steve? not done it for a while, nor for you George......how much did you put in it last week?"
"Loads.....over £300 I imagine."
"He never did!?!" minced Andrew.
George noticed he didn't say darling.
Deja vu as another credit break and more bars.
We were all frozen to the spot. Maybe some more spectators joined us. It was pretty spectacular. Coins gushed out of the hopper periodically and it just kept taking those credits and the jackpots kept coming.
Tony closed shut his briefcase and had a quick word with Emma.
"I've put in one of those Dr. Who style hoppers into the hurble hurble game. Ok?"
"Dr Who style hoppers?"
"Yeah it looks like it holds only £250, but it actually holds 250 zooglion pounds."
"What's a zooglion?"
"I haven't got time to explain. I've told Carol and she knows all about it, plus the quantum space time dynamics behind the hopper's operational logistics. It's in the Hurrrble Hurble Game three. Carol is an expert on that....."
"....RAINBOW BINGO!!!!!""
"Who is that fucking lunatic who keeps shouting about bingo?"
"I've no idea, she's got a Shipley's uniform on."
"hmmmmmmmmm. Maybe she's a sp...."
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann
"Fuck me, that's loud"
"Hell yeah...see ya later..."
Emma disappeared into the office. Carol's brain melted as the logistics of hurbly hurble game quantum zooglion hoppers became a reality. In actual fact a later post-mortem showed that the realisation that bars paid £35 and Xs paid £5 and that a combination of both wins could be paid via a credit breaking streak caused the meltdown.
Meanwhile the coins kept on gushing.
"I'm going to need these changing....look they're filling up the tray."
"Quit moaning" moaned Steve.
"I've never seen anything like it" said Pauline.
"Harbla harbla harbla harbla" said Patsy.
Even the Hill Sisters were impressed and spun around cross legged, very fast on a spinny chair next to the Elvis machine.
"JACKPOT!" said someone.
The red LED chugged, yeah chugged up to £280. Another relentless credit break. By this time the whole arcade was watching. Even the one spawny bloke who turns up on the one day of the month that the Vamp hasn't been picked to death and proceeds to rip four jackpots out of it from a fiver. Even he stopped to watch. Even Andrew had to admit it was ridiculous. Surely it was broken. £315, £340, £375, £410......this was just rude. Even PMK couldn't lay claim to a £410 and STILL GOING repeat pot. No way on God's earth.
"It's ludicrous!!" he gurgled ecstatically before mouthing 'sexy'. Hmmmmm, perhaps Patsy had caught his eye.
Meanwhile in another dimension.
"HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!"
"Mr. Fluke...please be quiet." chided the Scottish lady.
Theresa tutted to herself in the cash office. Mr Fluke, or Mr. Flynn as he was actually called to people who didn't mispronounce his name, was being a nuisance.
"HEY NO!!! YOU'RE CHEATING" bellowed Mr. Fluke (we'll call him that for now as it's more apt in a story about gambling).
Mr. Fluke was of course bellowing at a poisoned apple, pictured within a budget s34 AWP.
"Last credits please Mr. Fluke..." the Scottish tones wafting over the slightly too loud music.
Mr Fluke was going to have to teleport (walk) to another dimension.
He plodded past a naked lady on a horse, a Primark and a hotel, a Hills, a McDonalds and walked through the doors.
SLIP! CRASH! BANG! He fell over on some pound coins.
"Sorry!" called Andrew, "My fault. I can't scoop 'em up in time and Emma has locked herself in the cash office as she's not changing these."
"HEY!!! I'M CLAIMING COMPENSATION. YOU CAN'T DO THIS" boomed Mr. Fluke as he passed out unconscious, the swelling tide of coins sweeping his body outside Club Release into the path of a taxi, a chav and a Bendibus.
"This is ridiculous" Steve groaned, suffocating within the increasing dense atmosphere of pound coins.
"This reminds me of playing What's in your box? on Hotel Street" said George.
"What's that George? You sexy beast!"
It seemed the pound coins were causing Doppler muffling reflex audio echoes and the name Pauline had become distorted to sound like the name George. Either that or Andrew was being very gay and camp.....No surely not. Anyone who sang along to Wham must be a red blooded male through and through.
Still the machine payed and payed. The ring road ground to a halt. The suberbs started to grind to a halt. People were in a state of panic and ecstacy. Here was untold wealth, the prblem being you could only scoop so much of it up and then, before you knew it, you'd be six feet under in a big gold underground world where you could see nothing only hear some faint music in the background and some maniac shouting RAINBOW BINGO every minute or so.
Next to ASDA a chap also called George was blowing smoke into the face of a woman spunking cash into a Deal or no Deal. Some coins started trickling through the door. It wasn't long until The Goose was subject to the same sort of treatment. Those lucky enough to be able to get to a computer could make out the central part of The United Kingdom as a big mass of gold on Google Earth. Ppffft not again, said the staff at The Goose.
The the crossing from Dover to Calais became a sea of gold, then a footpath of gold then a mountain of gold. Europe, then Asia, Africa, America, Australia, both poles became gold.
There was a credit break. The LED chugged gayly up to £100,000,0000zoooglebooglewooofruglymooglyfucktasticllyspooglyion,000. More bars.
It was then Ann realised she was in the wrong shop.
"RAINB.....no hold on...this isn't Shipleys......" oblivious to the coins she stomped out the shop, ripping out the power cord.
The music stopped. The coins stopped.
Andrew switched the machine back on andpressed collect. The hopper spat out all the coins bar one....
Wwhhhhhrrrrrrr....brrrrrwwwhwhwhh.....whhhhhhrhrhrr
IOU £1.00
"Emma!!! It needs a refill" cried Andrew.
"It needs a refill darling." he said, his voice sounding as if it was aimed at me.
"Jammy bastard" said Steve.
Then the world imploded in on itself, the collosal weight of coinage too much to bear. Everyone died. The End. Apart from Ann who somehow survived and has called to some Aliens in a far, far away Galaxy. They now all happily play bingo at half past the hour.
Yellow 2 and 7. 27. We do have a winner. Please hold on to your tickets whilst we verify this claim for £1 of tokens. BEEP! BEEP BOOOP! Take me to your leader.
what was all that about ?
"They've done something to it" he grumbled. Even Pauline wasn't listening.
Then George popped in. Steve moaned at George.
"It's not doing anything. £200 in and it hasn't lit up yet. It hasn't whistled, apart from a poxy four away. Full up from the off"
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that could kill.
Steve moodily accepted the ticket and lurid condom coloured pen and carried on noncholantly pressing start. Dum dum dum. The reels humming, the Xs and Bars floating around.
"This is disgraceful. I could report them to trading standards. This machine states clearly it's on 92% payout."
"Hello Darling" cooooed Andrew as he flaunted flamboyantly and gayly past Steve, George and Pauline. He definitely wasn't talking to Pauline.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!" yelled Ann at a volume that would scare a deaf hardened Army Corporal.
"No thanks chuck, hey has this one paid out yet?"
"No. Jewy fucker. None of them have paid. This one has taken over £200. No whistles or bars."
Andrew popped in a quid.
There was a whistling sound. Wheep!-Whoop! Wheep!-Whoop!
Steve's face contorted into thunderous anger.
"Oooooh it must be my lucky day!" burbled Andrew, without being fat or sweaty, but every so slightly....happy.
"It's huuuurble hurrble Time" announced the machine.
Carol popped over.
"I never understand this one. It's so complicated. You've got three bars, what does that mean?"
"It means he's a jammy git" laughed Steve, his laughter twinged with agony and mild resentment.
Industriously the £35 chugged up on the red LED. Andrew popped in a quid. £1.00........£0.50.........another trio of yellow biscuits bounced into view. Andrew shoved in some more coins.
"It that any good?" asked Carol.
"If winning £70 off £1 is good, then that's good" said Andrew....
"ISN'T it you sexy beast?"
I had a horrible feeling that Andrew was talking to me, as Pauline had gone around the other side to play a Magic 10. Perhaps he was talking to Pauline. I mean that would be.....a little bit.....errr...gay wouldn't it otherwise. I mean. Hmmmm.
£2.50.....a flicker.....a flutter and £2.00
Another representation of bars.
"Fucking fucker fucker" said Steve, summing up the situation with perfect eloquence.
The red LED clounted up to £105, chugging away like a procession of gay people doing the Conga.
"Dooo doooo doooo" sang Andrew happily.
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann in a voice that would make a shell shocked senile Brigadier reveal his best emptiers.
The green LED rose to £105 before autopaying.......£2.00......flicker.....flutter........£1.50........
Some more bars!!! This was some serious spawn.
"I've not seen it do that for a while" noted Pauline
"Has it Steve? not done it for a while, nor for you George......how much did you put in it last week?"
"Loads.....over £300 I imagine."
"He never did!?!" minced Andrew.
George noticed he didn't say darling.
Deja vu as another credit break and more bars.
We were all frozen to the spot. Maybe some more spectators joined us. It was pretty spectacular. Coins gushed out of the hopper periodically and it just kept taking those credits and the jackpots kept coming.
Tony closed shut his briefcase and had a quick word with Emma.
"I've put in one of those Dr. Who style hoppers into the hurble hurble game. Ok?"
"Dr Who style hoppers?"
"Yeah it looks like it holds only £250, but it actually holds 250 zooglion pounds."
"What's a zooglion?"
"I haven't got time to explain. I've told Carol and she knows all about it, plus the quantum space time dynamics behind the hopper's operational logistics. It's in the Hurrrble Hurble Game three. Carol is an expert on that....."
"....RAINBOW BINGO!!!!!""
"Who is that fucking lunatic who keeps shouting about bingo?"
"I've no idea, she's got a Shipley's uniform on."
"hmmmmmmmmm. Maybe she's a sp...."
"RAINBOW BINGO!!!!" yelled Ann
"Fuck me, that's loud"
"Hell yeah...see ya later..."
Emma disappeared into the office. Carol's brain melted as the logistics of hurbly hurble game quantum zooglion hoppers became a reality. In actual fact a later post-mortem showed that the realisation that bars paid £35 and Xs paid £5 and that a combination of both wins could be paid via a credit breaking streak caused the meltdown.
Meanwhile the coins kept on gushing.
"I'm going to need these changing....look they're filling up the tray."
"Quit moaning" moaned Steve.
"I've never seen anything like it" said Pauline.
"Harbla harbla harbla harbla" said Patsy.
Even the Hill Sisters were impressed and spun around cross legged, very fast on a spinny chair next to the Elvis machine.
"JACKPOT!" said someone.
The red LED chugged, yeah chugged up to £280. Another relentless credit break. By this time the whole arcade was watching. Even the one spawny bloke who turns up on the one day of the month that the Vamp hasn't been picked to death and proceeds to rip four jackpots out of it from a fiver. Even he stopped to watch. Even Andrew had to admit it was ridiculous. Surely it was broken. £315, £340, £375, £410......this was just rude. Even PMK couldn't lay claim to a £410 and STILL GOING repeat pot. No way on God's earth.
"It's ludicrous!!" he gurgled ecstatically before mouthing 'sexy'. Hmmmmm, perhaps Patsy had caught his eye.
Meanwhile in another dimension.
"HEY! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!"
"Mr. Fluke...please be quiet." chided the Scottish lady.
Theresa tutted to herself in the cash office. Mr Fluke, or Mr. Flynn as he was actually called to people who didn't mispronounce his name, was being a nuisance.
"HEY NO!!! YOU'RE CHEATING" bellowed Mr. Fluke (we'll call him that for now as it's more apt in a story about gambling).
Mr. Fluke was of course bellowing at a poisoned apple, pictured within a budget s34 AWP.
"Last credits please Mr. Fluke..." the Scottish tones wafting over the slightly too loud music.
Mr Fluke was going to have to teleport (walk) to another dimension.
He plodded past a naked lady on a horse, a Primark and a hotel, a Hills, a McDonalds and walked through the doors.
SLIP! CRASH! BANG! He fell over on some pound coins.
"Sorry!" called Andrew, "My fault. I can't scoop 'em up in time and Emma has locked herself in the cash office as she's not changing these."
"HEY!!! I'M CLAIMING COMPENSATION. YOU CAN'T DO THIS" boomed Mr. Fluke as he passed out unconscious, the swelling tide of coins sweeping his body outside Club Release into the path of a taxi, a chav and a Bendibus.
"This is ridiculous" Steve groaned, suffocating within the increasing dense atmosphere of pound coins.
"This reminds me of playing What's in your box? on Hotel Street" said George.
"What's that George? You sexy beast!"
It seemed the pound coins were causing Doppler muffling reflex audio echoes and the name Pauline had become distorted to sound like the name George. Either that or Andrew was being very gay and camp.....No surely not. Anyone who sang along to Wham must be a red blooded male through and through.
Still the machine payed and payed. The ring road ground to a halt. The suberbs started to grind to a halt. People were in a state of panic and ecstacy. Here was untold wealth, the prblem being you could only scoop so much of it up and then, before you knew it, you'd be six feet under in a big gold underground world where you could see nothing only hear some faint music in the background and some maniac shouting RAINBOW BINGO every minute or so.
Next to ASDA a chap also called George was blowing smoke into the face of a woman spunking cash into a Deal or no Deal. Some coins started trickling through the door. It wasn't long until The Goose was subject to the same sort of treatment. Those lucky enough to be able to get to a computer could make out the central part of The United Kingdom as a big mass of gold on Google Earth. Ppffft not again, said the staff at The Goose.
The the crossing from Dover to Calais became a sea of gold, then a footpath of gold then a mountain of gold. Europe, then Asia, Africa, America, Australia, both poles became gold.
There was a credit break. The LED chugged gayly up to £100,000,0000zoooglebooglewooofruglymooglyfucktasticllyspooglyion,000. More bars.
It was then Ann realised she was in the wrong shop.
"RAINB.....no hold on...this isn't Shipleys......" oblivious to the coins she stomped out the shop, ripping out the power cord.
The music stopped. The coins stopped.
Andrew switched the machine back on andpressed collect. The hopper spat out all the coins bar one....
Wwhhhhhrrrrrrr....brrrrrwwwhwhwhh.....whhhhhhrhrhrr
IOU £1.00
"Emma!!! It needs a refill" cried Andrew.
"It needs a refill darling." he said, his voice sounding as if it was aimed at me.
"Jammy bastard" said Steve.
Then the world imploded in on itself, the collosal weight of coinage too much to bear. Everyone died. The End. Apart from Ann who somehow survived and has called to some Aliens in a far, far away Galaxy. They now all happily play bingo at half past the hour.
Yellow 2 and 7. 27. We do have a winner. Please hold on to your tickets whilst we verify this claim for £1 of tokens. BEEP! BEEP BOOOP! Take me to your leader.
what was all that about ?
-
Matt Vinyl
- Senior Member
- Posts: 7198
- Joined: Wed May 11, 2005 6:56 pm
- Location: Lost in the outback, Bryan
Poka: Revisiting old threads is of course a good place to start, but posting in most of the buggers does get a bit annoying for some people, just a gentle warning... 
Anyway, you'll come to learn that JG is probably one of the most vibrant characters on here. No need to question his tales, just enjoy...
Anyway, you'll come to learn that JG is probably one of the most vibrant characters on here. No need to question his tales, just enjoy...
"And do you ever contradict yourself, Minister?" "Well, yes and no..."
Rumour has it, that it is a bizarre form of street theatre. Mysterious flashing lights contained within arrangements of wood and metal and plastic and glass flash in patterns to entice the actors and actresses in off the streets. This saves paying wages to professional actors/actresses, say for example the RSC (Royal Slot machine company). There is also no script. This saves on paying a scriptwriter to write funny jokes and sorrowful sob stories.
Hopefully the lights will flash in such a way as to stimulate the production of a successful act within the auditorium. By law, regular announcements have to be made, informing participants of the nearest game of RAINBOW BINGO at the hour, every hour. This is to stop people getting lost and wandering over to the 'Hi-tecs', 'Nikes' or 'Reeboks' by mistake when they should obviously be at ACT B3 - Definitely not fucking random my arse! Scene 1 jackpot, should see another one soon, so my mate says.
The play is definitely a fringe production. The major productions of the year are namely 'How can black come out 26 times in a row?', 'That's not random!' and 'I'll burn down the bookies if they crack my rockets again!' They've sold out several times now, not just in the West End, but all over the UK.
Hopefully the lights will flash in such a way as to stimulate the production of a successful act within the auditorium. By law, regular announcements have to be made, informing participants of the nearest game of RAINBOW BINGO at the hour, every hour. This is to stop people getting lost and wandering over to the 'Hi-tecs', 'Nikes' or 'Reeboks' by mistake when they should obviously be at ACT B3 - Definitely not fucking random my arse! Scene 1 jackpot, should see another one soon, so my mate says.
The play is definitely a fringe production. The major productions of the year are namely 'How can black come out 26 times in a row?', 'That's not random!' and 'I'll burn down the bookies if they crack my rockets again!' They've sold out several times now, not just in the West End, but all over the UK.