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the terry finger show

NOTE : This is a rip-off of a popular American chat-show. I will let you guess which one (it's not Oprah Winfrey!) Anyhow, if you picture the scene, with the audience, the stage, the tacky scenery, such as the plants and bookshelves, and most importantly, Terry Finger, you should have an amusing edition of The Terry Finger Show.

Terry:- Hi, and welcome to the Terry Finger show. Today, we will be talking about people who have a wild side of life. Right now (beep), we have errrr... Jim. Now Jim, what ya doing here?

Jim:- Well now Terry, I am (beep) here (beep) be (beep) cause (beep) I have a confession to make to my girlfriend.

Terry:- Oh really, well I will stand over here, out of the way, like the useless (beep) moron that I am, and errrr... let you continue. Here is your girlfriend, Doris.

(Crowd cheers as Doris walks in. Jim and Doris kiss each other. Terry stares at them curiously.)

Terry:- Okay Jim, tell Doris what you've got to say, although Doris must be a dopey cow, as we only have bad news and arguments and slagging off and kicking heads on this show. I mean, it's not as if we ever have anyone say anything happy and cheerful, like that ugly (beep) slag Vikki Fake. I'm sorry, Jim, you may continue, go ahead, now, you have something to say to Doris. I won't stop you anymore. Carry on. When you're ready. Okay, don't be scared now, although I would, but anyhow, you may continue. Go ahead, say what you will. I know I would if I was in your position, which I'm not, so I won't. When you're ready. Carry on.

Jim:- Well, Doris. Errrr.... Ha Ha Ha. You'll like this. Aha! Anyway. Errr... I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really love you and your daughter Jane, and your husband Del, and I've slept with them on many occasions... however, errrr... I am not who I seem.

(Crowd goes 'ohhhhhhhh'. A drunken man with an Irish accent shouts 'Fekking Hell' when the crowd silences.)

Doris:- What, what, what do you mmmmean?

Terry:- Yes, what do you mean. The producer is a warmonger and thinks the violence in this show is (beep) poor so far.

Jim:- I am a... a... a GRANDFATHER CLOCK!

(Crowd goes 'ahhhhhhhh'. A drunken man with an Irish accent shouts 'Fekking Hell' when the crowd silences.)

Doris:- You (beep) (beep) (beep) (beep) fekker!

(The couple beat the (beep) out of each other, while the crowd go insane. Steve the bald bloke joins in, along with the other bloke, who nobody knows. A chair is thrown across the stage. Steve is unconcious. The crowd chant 'Terry', in the repetitive, annoying way that they know how. Peace is finally restored.)

Terry:- Well, I'm completely shocked. Okay, you loved her daughter and her husband, and I've been told from the producer that you have actually slept with them many times. But to actually admit that you are a grandfather clock, blimey. And Doris. Doris, what do you say about this, I mean, did you have any idea that Jim was a grandfather clock.

Doris:- I had no idea. Actually, thinking back now, I remember about these mood swings he used to have when the clocks are moved forwards. Oh yes, his personality would swing to and fro like a pendulum. He always told me that it was a war wound he picked up in Nam. Anyhow, He would always get ticked off with me, and would complain about ringing in his ears, as well as a dodgy ticker. But he never told me that he was a grandfather clock.

Terry:- Incredible. We will return after these messages, don't go away! Please?

 

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