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NOEL'S HOUSE PARTY BUT NOEL HAS BEEN EVICTED FROM THE PREMISES

Started by madhair60, February 13, 2018, 10:44:42 AM

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madhair60

Mr Blobby: Blobby blobby blobby! (Hands a kid a Sega Mega Drive)

Kid: Wow! Thanks!

(The gunge tank klaxon goes off and the gunge is wasted, splashing onto the studio floor)

the

Neil Morrissey peers through the window, from behind the set

Neil: (muffled) Hello? ... Hello Noel? ... I'm Sammy the-

Michael Leggo: (shouts) HE'S GONE, NEIL

buttgammon

Lloyds Bank man: These premises have been repossessed by Lloyds Bank. I have been ordered to deny Mr Edmonds and his associates access to any gunge, silly string, confetti or other novelty goods held on these premises until further notice.

A black horse gallops around the studio, pausing to do a massive shit.

Quote from: buttgammon on February 13, 2018, 12:54:03 PM

A black horse gallops around the studio, pausing to do a massive shit.

Twin Peaks S4 writing sessions hit the buffers.

DangledTeeth

Doorbell: Diiiiing! Donnnng! Duuunnng! Daaaaang!

Audience: Laughter of anticipation.

Doorbell: Diiiiing! Donnnng! Duuunnng! Daaaaang!

Audience: Barely audible laughter of anticipation.

Doorbell: Diiiiing! Donnnng! Duuunnng! Daaaaang!

Audience: Cough!

Music: SO-FA SOC-CER! WaAaAaaAH! wAAaAaaaH!

BlodwynPig

Noel sits spotlit in an otherwise darkened room. Two men peer out from a glass booth. Some beige curtains in the background.

A microphone is clicked on.

Bob Monkhouse: Good afternoon, Mr. Edmonds. Her name is Camilla Blobby. The director doesn't want her. Do you want him replaced? I know they said...
[pause]
Mr. Edmonds: Then...
Bob Monkhouse: Then that means we should...
[pause]
Mr. Edmonds: Yes?
Bob Monkhouse: Shut everything down.
[pause]
Bob Monkhouse: Is that something that...
[pause]
Bob Monkhouse: You want us to shut everything down?
[pause]
Bob Monkhouse: Then we'll shut everything down.

The lights go off.

BlodwynPig

The house party in full swing. Noel confronts one of the audience members. Jacqui from Totnes.

Noel: Call Me. Dial your number. Go ahead.
[Jacqui dials the number and Noel answers]
Noel: [over the phone] I told you I was here.
Jacqui: [amused] How'd you do that?
Noel: Ask me.
[Jacqui's facial expression turns from amused to serious as she's clearly rembering the TV is still on]
Jacqui: [angrily into the phone] How did you get inside my house?
Noel: [voice] You invited me. It is not my custom to go where I am not wanted.
Jacqui: [into the phone] Who are you?
[Both Noel's and Blobby laugh mechanically]
Noel: [voice] Give me back my phone.
[Jacqui gives the cell phone back to Noel]
Noel: It's been a pleasure talking to you.

Glebe

BLOBBY: BLOBBY!!! BLOBBY BLOBBY BLOBBY!!!

NOEL (from outside, peering in a window): Mistah Blobahy! *exaggerated fits of uncontrollable laughter*

BAILIFF: Step away from the premises please, sir.

Sebastian Cobb

It looks like there's more than gunge in that there tank.

Glebe

Mr. Blobby is wreaking havoc inside Crinkley Bottom's studio set.

BLOBBY: BLOBBY! BLOBBY BLOBBY BLOBBY!

NOEL: OH BLOBBY'S GONE- *doubles up in helpless laughter*

REPO MAN: Watch the gravel on the driveway, sir. It's not your driveway anymore.

Replies From View

[The gunge starts taking on a strange hue.  It has inexplicable dark streaks running through it.  Contestants start complaining about the stains and the smell.  Later that day, Elisa Lam's decomposing body is found inside the central gunge tank, and the cackling silhouette of Noel Edmonds is witnessed for the very last time.]

Bence Fekete

An unshaven Mr Blobby stares vacantly out a murky window at the crucified remains of Michael Barrymore.  He hasn't been washed for weeks.  He looks down, shaking his head slowly, walks up behind a kneeling Angela Lansbury and shoots her in the back of the head.  A framed photograph of MC Hammer massaging a smiling Eamon Holmes falls off the wall and shatters in the dirt. Half the cast of Eastenders enter for no reason at all. 

Glebe

JOHN CHALLIS DRESSED IN A VICTORIAN OUTFIT: Hello? I've been ringing the bell for five minutes and no ones' answered.

NOEL (behind him): Sorry John, I can't come in with you... but it's John Challis from Only Fools and Horses, everyone!

Glebe

There is silence on set. After about ten minutes, a face appears at the window.

NOEL (muffled): Sorry folks, I can't come in, been kicked out of me own home! Blobby, answer the door, will you? I think it's Cribbins.

BlodwynPig

The old set is still there. Lot 13 in Warehouse A2. Just off the A606 near the reservoir.

He hasn't been back down to the South West since his court case was lost. After all the effort with the website, the radio, the facebook site...the ignominy of losing face to those bastards sent him into another of his spirals. He spent three weeks at a B&B in Taunton before travelling north to dig up the ghosts of his past.

Even now he can hear the mad cries of the audience. It was a time of transition. The self-awareness of modern live audiences has ruined TV in his opinion. Back in those days a woman in her mid-20s with perfect perm and oversized knitted jumper wouldn't be afraid to be seen squawking in delight as Mr. Blobby fumbled with her pleated skirt. Most of the men were simple country folk with strong prescription spectacles making them look 30 years older. They often sported a moustache too. Where have all the moustaches gone?, he ponders.

In a dark corner he spots a mummified ear lobe caught in some cobwebs. My God, they removed much of the blood but didn't get rid of everything. Cowboys! His thoughts drift unwanted back to the unaired segment from the final episode of the House Party. The one in which Noel would die.

He wishes he had never removed those glasses, never looked the frantic line producer in the eye. He'd wish he'd shaved at least his beard off that morning. Christ, he wish he was a few inches taller.

The show must go on! That had been Noel's clarion call to his backstage staff. A well-used phrase given the trail of death and despair left in the wake of the many live and recorded catastrophes to plague Noel through his TV career.

But on the fateful spring day in 1999, it was all to come to an end for Noel 1.0. The videotapes still exist, under lock and key in some producer's basement no doubt. But for Terry Godwit, his life was to change forever. Noel 2.0 was born out of the ashes of the disembowelled Edmonds. Strong-armed into continuing the work of the light entertainment messiah, to fulfil his prophecy.

It never worked out, of course, despite his best efforts, the efforts of his dwindling entourage. They had hoped the court case would put him back in the limelight, front and centre. Warm the public up for a glorious return to BBC primetime. Noel's House Party back on the telly, where it ought to be, weeding out the sick, the vulnerable, the undeserving...and dispatching them one by one.

But it wasn't it to be.

*clink*

Somewhere in the darkness, a giant pink form rises with an ungodly growl, a spotlight shines down upon Terry and he stumbles back, collapsing into a small glass chamber. He knows what is coming. He can smell the acrid, acid smell of his imminent doom just a sharply as he sees the disformed fingers grasp the lever.

Glebe


BlodwynPig


Glebe


Glebe

JON PERTWEE: Haha, I was Gotcha'd! But where art thou Noel?

NOEL (outside): Alright Jon, sorry I can't talk to you! Did you enjoy y'Gotcha? Blobby will let you out!

BAILIFF: Come on Noel, you know the rules.


Glebe

LESLIE NIELSEN: Where's Edmonds? I was booked for this and flew all the way from Los Angeles special.

NOEL (through letterbox): I'm very sorry Mr. Nielsen, me house has been repossessed by a bunch of greedy fuckers, I'm fucking livid, mate.

LESLIE: Alright pal I can see you're angry but there's no need for that kind of effin' and jeffin', mate!

Glebe

TONY BLACKBURN: Ooh no, the Gunge Tank, what have I let meself in for, eh, chuckle!

NOEL (from outside, natch): Pull the cord, Blobby! Pull the cord!

BLOBBY: Me hands are too big to get a grip, mate.

NOEL: Ask one of the stage grips!

BLOBBY: What?

NOEL: Ask one of the STAGE GRIPS!

BLOBBY: Sorry?

NOEL: Oh for fuck...

TONY: This really isn't an ideal situation.

Glebe

INT.RESTAURANT.AFTERNOON.

PAUL DANIELS: I'm sorry, but this waiter with the wig and fake beard and big, oversized, tinted glasses is being a right prick!

NOEL EDMONDS: It is I, Paul - and here's y'Gotcher Oscah!

PAUL DANIELS: Oh, you twat! Were you in on this, Debbie?

THE LOVELY DEBBIE MCGEE: Yes, Paul!

PAUL DANIELS: Heh, nice one Noel... all back to yours for a celebratory champagne, then?

YER EDMONDS: Er, no, sorry, Paul, I've been kicked out of my luxury Crinkley Bottom mansion for falling behind on payments.

BLOBBY: BLOBBY!

Glebe

DOOR: Knock knock knock.

BLOBBY: Good evening everyone, and welcome to Blobby's House Party.

AUDIENCE: YAAAAAAY!!!

DOOR: Knock knock knock.

BLOBBY: And on a packed show tonight, we'll be having the Gotcha and the Gunge Tank and other things.

DOOR: Knock knock knock.

BLOBBY: We'll also be having some surprize guests, including a major Hollywood star.

DOOR: Knock knock knock.

BLOBBY: And-

DOOR: Knock knock knock.

BLOBBY gives a confused look to the FLOOR MANAGER, who comes over and whispers in his ear.

BLOBBY: (talking with FLOOR MANAGER) ...yeah, you'd think Martin Short would be professional enough to get the timing right... (to AUDIENCE) OOH, CRIKEY, who could that be already, bit unexpected and that, better answer it!

BLOBBY answers the door.

NOEL: Alright, mate? I just need to pop in and collect a few personal belongings.

BLOBBY: You know the law, Noel. I can't let you on the premises.

NOEL: Look, I just want to grab a couple of things I forgot. A couple of cheap T-shirts, a deodorant and a notepad I bought in Poundland, that's all. I'll only be two minutes.

BLOBBY: Alright, Noel, but you better be no more than two minutes up there. I'm timing you.

NOEL: Cheers Blobby, I'll be out of your hair in a sec!

NOEL runs upstairs to collect his things.

NOEL (from upstairs): Oh, I like what you've done with the back room. Here, who moved the laundry basket in the bathroom?

BLOBBY: Two minutes, Noel. I'm timing you.

NOEL (from upstairs): I'll miss that view across Crinkley Glen tonight... ah well.

BLOBBY: Sigh.

NOEL (from upstairs): You've left the ironing board out, mate.

BLOBBY: That's it, Noel, your two minutes are up!

NOEL (coming down stairs): Alright, alright, don't get y'knickers in a twist, mate!

BLOBBY: Goodbye, Noel.

NOEL (swanning sarkily towards door): Yeah, fuck you, pal.

AUDIENCE: BOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

NOEL: Yeah, and fuck you lot an' all!

FLOOR MANAGER: Clear off, Edmonds.

AUDIENCE: YEEEEEEEEEEEAAHHHH!!!

NOEL: I'll be back. You'll see.

BLOBBY: Only in a rerun.

NOEL attacks BLOBBY and has to be removed by four burly security guards.

Glebe

BLOBBY: Well, I seem to be running the show now with His Nibs gone... anyway, now it's time for NT-or rather, BTV!

AUDIENCE: YAAAAAAAAY!!!

BLOBBY: We're going to surprize Jim in Hounslow... we'll just cut over now... hello Jim, can y'hear me? It's Blobby!

Cut to Jim sitting on his couch in Hounslow with his wife Jill and the dog.

JIM: I don't believe it! Jill, were you in on this!

JILL: Yes, I was!

AUDIENCE: HAHAHAHAH!!!

BLOBBY: There's a hidden camera on y'telly Jim, we're watching you!

JIM: I don't believe... f-

BLOBBY: -Careful Jim, mind y' language, it's live TV!

AUDIENCE: AHAHAHAHAHA!!!

BLOBBY: Now Jim, we have a little surprize for you, because-

JIM: I DON'T BELIEVE IT! Hello, Noel!

BLOBBY: Eh?!

NOEL (in Jim's House): Alright mate, I'll take it from here... (to camera) well, I may have been evicted from Crinkley Bottom, but thanks to the kindness of these strangers - and that hidden camera - I temporarily have another house to broadcast from, live on the Beeb!

BLOBBY: Oh for fuck's...

BBC EMPLOYEE IN JIM'S HOUSE: Sorry, he must have slipped past us.

JILL: Yeah, I certainly didn't let him in!

JIM: Well, er, it's a great surprize, having No-

NOEL: -Yeah mate, just let me say something... (to camera) fuck the bailiffs. And fuck the BBC... this will be my final broadcast before I go and do Deal or No Deal on Channel 4 in a few years... Blobby, I want you to know that I consider you a traitor. Your 'hit' song was shite, and Blobbyland will soon fall into disrepair, you'll see, mate!

BBC EMPLOYEE IN JIM'S HOUSE: Alright, cut the camera.

BLOBBY: Sorry about that, folks. He's been squatting at the end of the garden all week, shouting all kinds of obscenities... it was just a matter of time before he cracked. 


BlodwynPig

Later that night, Jill from Hounslow is showered in gunk when she tries to go in the loft to get her hair curlers.


Glebe

Quote from: JoeyBananaduck on February 21, 2018, 07:20:34 PM
^ love

Tnx JB!

FLOOR MANAGER: We're afraid Blobby has left the BBC to take a middle management job at ITV. Without a host for the night, I am afraid we will have to cancel tonight's show.

AUDIENCE: AWWWWWWW!!!

YET EDMONDS: No, wait, I can do it!

FLOOR MANAGER: It's over, Noel. Can somebody please remove this man from the set?

NOEL: It's not a set, it's my house, ffs!

BAILIFF: Yes, and you've been served your eviction notice. Hop it, Edmonds!

JoeyBananaduck

"Grandad, can we watch it again?"

"Oh for Chr....*sigh* yes ok, put it on.  Go on, get yer nan to dial it up on YouFace or MyTube or whatever it is."

"Yaaaaaay"

Eddie Large's grandkids are around for the weekend. And they bloody LOVE seeing his Gotcha. What does that make, 7 times this weekend? If only there were more clips of the glory days around. Proper L&L magic. Something to show them other than this humiliating ordeal.

'Well, I'm not watching it again', Eddie thinks and picks up the paper. Front page headline "NOEL OUT ON HIS CRINKLY BOTTOM".

In his old, weakened state and surrounded by this familial warmth, Eddie realises he can't even raise a smirk. The malevolent glee he once would have felt at the misfortunes of an old nemesis simply isn't there. In fact....is that sympathy? Empathy? One or the other, or both.

"Have you seen this love?" he turns to his wife, but she's still helping the kids work the laptop.

"Poor sod", Eddie mutters to himself, turning back to the paper.

"Right, I can't be having this. Time to give Syd a call."