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

[Glebe]

NOEL (sticking his head in through a small window): Hello and welcome to the House Party... oh wait, must dash, the bailiff's back!

AUDIENCE: YAAAAAAAAAY!!!

[Glebe]

NOEL (through a loudhailer from the bottom of Crinkley Garden): HELLO EVERYBODY AND WELCOME TO THE SHOW! *loudhailer feedback*

FLOOR MANAGER: Sigh. I'll have him removed.

[Glebe]

NOEL: Hello and welcome to the House Party!

BALIFF: Take yourself and that camera and get off the fucking grounds, mate.

[Glebe]

DEREK NIMMO: Hello and welcome to Noel's House Party.

NOEL (outside): NIMMO?! Was nobody else available?

BAILIFF: Stand away from the door, Mr. Edmonds. Laws is laws.

[Glebe]

NOEL: Hurry up, you lot. We've got an hour to film this thing before the security lads get here!

AUDIENCE MEMBER: But Mr. Edmonds, are we breaking and entering?

NOEL: Nah, nah... anyway, I'll take the blame if we get caught!

BLOBBY: BLOBBY!

NOEL: Oh no, not you... go on, hop it!

BLOBBY: Sigh. Noel, what are you doing?

NOEL: I've set up my own independent TV channel and I'm going to secretly film an episode of the House Party! As for you... not a word!

BLOBBY: Okay everyone, stop. You are entering these premises illegally!

ANOTHER AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yes, we were wondering about that! Come on everyone, let's go home!

NOEL: No, wait! It's gonna be a great show! Come back, y'cowards!

BAILIFF: Oi! What's going on here, Edmonds?

NOEL: Ooh 'eck!

BLOBBY: Chuckle!

[Glebe]

NOEL (on the roof): HELLO AND WELCOME TO NOEL'S HOUSE PARTY, DOWN THERE!

STUDIO: *tumbleweeds*

[Glebe]

BLOBBY: Anyone seen No- oh yeah, the eviction thing...

[Glebe]

BBC CONTINUITY ANNOUNCER IN 1996: And now Noel's House Party. Oh wait no yeah.

[JoeyBananaduck]

Lionel Blair (To self): Fuck's sake, I've been knocking on this door for half an hour. Sod it,  I'm off home.

[Lisa Jesusandmarychain]

LESLIE NIELSEN, STANDING OUTSIDE: * Pretends to fart, due to ingenious farting device he has on his person *

NOEL EDMONDS : You're not helping.

[Huxleys Babkins]

BOB CAROLGEES: And now on Bob's House Party, it's time for Grab A Grand! And tonight's contestant is Mark from Brighton!

INCIDENTAL MUSIC PLAYS. THE CONTESTANT RUNS DOWN THE STAIRS AND ENTHUSIASTICALLY WAVES TO THE CROWD. BUT THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG. SOMETHING VERY WRONG. HE'S WEARING A BASEBALL CAP, FALSE BEARD AND HIS EYES ARE RED WITH TEARS. UNDER HIS T-SHIRT YOU CAN SEE HE'S WEARING A GREEN SUIT, DRESS SUIT AND A GARISH TIE. HE'S SHAKING WITH FEAR AND SADNESS.

BOB: *Sighs* Mark, is it?

"MARK": Yup.

BOB: Alright Noel, that's enough.

"MARK": Come on mate, I need this.

BOB: Can we get security out here?

NOEL BARRICADES HIMSELF INSIDE THE GRAB A GRAND CABINET. HE PUTS HIS HAND THROUGH THE SLOT TO TRY TO GRAB THE MONEY BUT HE CAN'T QUITE REACH IT. NOW SOBBING, HE REMOVES HIS CAP, BEARD AND TROUSERS AND SQUATS DOWN ON THE FLOOR. HE'S DEFECATING INTO HIS HAND.

NOEL: I've got your Gotcha here Bob.

BOB: So sorry folks. Let's go have a chat with Neil Morrissey.

[JoeyBananaduck]

^ nice

[Glebe]

JUNE WHITFIELD: Hello? Noel? Where are you?

NOEL: I'm in the shed making a cuppa. They're letting me live here until I move into a bedsit on the main street.

[H-O-W-L]

"I'll show them 'not re-commissioned'." says Noel, as he chambers another round.

[Glebe]

FOREMAN: Alright lads, being on the wrecking ball.

NOEL (dropping to his knees and grabbing the FOREMAN's trouser legs): NOOOOOOO, please! Not my beloved Crinkley Bottom!

WRECKING CREW: HAHAHAHAHA!!!

BLOBBY: C'mon, lads. Don't be mean, now.

[H-O-W-L]

NOEL DROPS THE DUFFEL-BAG TO THE TILE, THE ORDNANCE WITHIN SOFTLY CLINKING AS IT SLIDES TOWARD BLOBBY

BLOBBY UNZIPS THE BAG, WITHDRAWING A COLT M733. HE EXTENDS THE SHOULDER STOCK, THEN PULLS HIS BALACLAVA DOWN.

NOEL ALSO MASKS UP, WITHDRAWING A REMINGTON 870MCS WITH SHORTENED BARREL.

NOEL CLIMBS ATOP THE CENTRE DESK, AND LOOSES A ROUND TOWARD THE CEILING. BANG!

NOEL: Listen up everyone! This is a robbery! We're here for the bank's money, not your money. Your money is insured by the government, you're not going to lose a dime. Think of your friends, think of your families. Don't try and be a hero. I want you to get on your knees with your hands on your head. Anyone feels sick, anyone has gunge trouble, go ahead and lay up against that wall.

[JoeyBananaduck]

[NOEL and BLOBBY are stood outside the front door of THE GREAT MANOR.]

Noel: Ok Blobby, stick with the plan and there's a cool tenner in it for you. If anybody can do this it's you.

Blobby: [points at self] Blobby.

[The sounds of TONY BLACKBURN compering a riotously swinging House Party with guests including Wee Jimmy Krankie and David Hasselhoff fills the chilly night air. Audience laughter builds and sways]

Noel: God I can't take this anymore. Okay Blobby, take your run up. We have to do this now!

Blobby: [looking somehow outraged, standing to attention, doing a double-take or something] Blobby blob blob!

Noel: That wasn't the deal!

Blobby: [folding arms over chest] Blobby blobby BLOBBY blob.

Noel: Okay you chiselling custard condom bastard. Five now, five when the job's done. Christ! [reluctantly hands Blobby a fiver]

[Blobby realises he doesn't have any pockets or a wallet and is naked. Shoves the fiver up his arse]

Blobby: Oooh.....ooooh....blobby blobby!

Noel: Now get the fuck on with it you deformed freak!

[Noel stands aside as Blobby takes a ten foot run up to shoulder barge the door.]

Blobby: Blobby....blobby......BLOOOOOOBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY

[He smashes against it and ricochets backwards with an absolutely toe-curlingly sickening crunch]

Noel: Damn! Reenforced steel. I should have known. Or at least given it a cursory glance to check. Blackburn, you unsporting poptastic twat!

[Blobby is rolling around on the floor with bone splintering out of his shoulder. Blood is pooling around him.]

Blobby: You CUNT Edmonds! YOU CUNT! YOU'VE KILLED ME EDMONDS!

Noel: You did it yourself, Blobby. Only yourself to blame. And I'll have this back too...

[As Blobby continues to role, Noel seizes the moment to retrieve the £5 note from his arse and return it to his wallet.]

Blobby: If I survive this I'll fucking KILL YOU!!!

Noel: I don't think there's much chance of that. You'll be lucky to see out the next half hour with that amount of blood loss. Look at you, you didn't just hit it with your shoulder - your head's taken most of the damage, you daft sod. It's all dented in.

Blobby: NOEL! WHY!? *cough cough* Blobby. [anguished] Bloooooooobby..........[sobs] Tell Mrs Blobby and Baby Blobby I said blob.

Noel: Shut up will you? I'm trying to think. Plan B....A-ha! Edmonds you sexy bearded Telly savant! I do believe you've got it.

[5 minutes later in a nearby phone box]

Noel [on phone, affecting a sort of working class London accent]: That's right, Blackburn just had him left out there. Probably still out there now.....Well, between you and me I'm a stage hand....but keep that out of the article if you don't mind, squire. I need the work.........oh, cheers.........he did speak to me about it as a matter of fact. He said he had to have a better show than Edmonds at all costs because he's always been so jealous of me. Er....of him. He said that would start with the Blobby Entrance to end all Blobby Entrance's. A pratfall nobody would ever forget. Then he orders this steel door, see....and the staff's all telling him, Tony, you can't make him do it, it's too dangerous. Tony said 'well what he doesn't know can't hurt him'. Turns out the opposite was true, eh?

[TOMORROW'S SUN HEADLINE: COLD HEARTED BLACKBURN RESPONSIBLE FOR DEATH OF KIDS TELLY FAVOURITE]

[H-O-W-L]

Noel stubs a cigarette out in the empty glass of Scotch, staring morosely at his own reflection in the rain-slick window. His eyes are blackened by the shadow cast over his face, making his bearded guise look more like a skull than a human face. Fitting, he thinks, as he reaches over for another dirty, fingerprinted tumbler. He pulls the bottle off his desk and unscrews it. He keeps two magnums in his desk now. One's a revolver that he keeps loaded, and the other's a bottle that keeps HIM loaded. He shudders as he downs the caustic bourbon. Twenty bucks for a liter. Couldn't pass it up.

Staring down at the silent freeway that runs beneath his new apartment, he pulls on his shoulder-holster and sighs. Things used to be different, here. There used to be a world of fun and laughter. There was more than black and white. A world where men were capable of great fun, and where the darkest pits of mankind's evil couldn't be further from memory. That all changed that day. He came home, like he always did, from the office, to find a trail of slick blood running from the draught excluder all the way to the kitchen. Crucified on the table was Blobby, his carcass split from sternum to perineum by a butcher's knife. Dangling from the ceiling fan, filling the air with a potent stench, was the creature's own head. The message was clear. There was no place for heroes here. No greater cause. Trying to do the right thing, by entertaining people on a Saturday night, would lead to nothing but this.

No easy way out. No laughter. No applause.

Just the cold, remorseless grip of the gun.

He shuddered the memory off his shoulders, and stands from his bed. He hears nothing but sirens now. Before it was the jaunty laugh-a-minute honky-tonk of House of Fun by Madness. But now? Nothing but a crescendo of sirens. Wailing into a chorus of screams. The screaming of those he's failed, the cold touch of fingers he failed to hold onto as they slipped to the rain-slick pavement below. His hands fall upon the battered tweed jacket and shrug it over his shoulders. A glance in the window's reflection shows him his face. Tattered and ragged, with an overgrown greying beard and sallow skin. Sunken eyes that, while just as glassy and reflective as the window he looks into, hold no light. No humor. No more laughs.

His hand falls upon the gun under his armpit, and holds the grip tight. Yes. Nothing now. Nothing but this to dictate the future.

Nothing now but the way of the gun.

[Glebe]

^Superb HOWL, have lotsa Karma.

MIKE READ: Good evening and welcome to the House Party.

NOEL (down a drain-pipe): Not him! Anyone but him!

[Glebe]

NOEL (through the round window): Humpty! Lerruz in!

HUMPTY: This is the old Play School set, Noel! Push off before Floella spots yer!

NOEL: Oh right, soz. See you later, Humph, old chum.

HUMPTY: No prob mate, see you around, yeah?

HAMBLE: Oi Noel giz your autograph mate!

HUMPTY: Pipe down, tosser.

[DangledTeeth]

Doorbell: DIIIING-DOOOONG-DEEEENG-DUUUUNG!

Matthew Corbett, as guest presenter, answers the door

Matthew Corbett: Oh hello, Noel. I don't think you're supposed to be here.

Noel shiftily looks around the door frame

Noel (whispered): Alright, Matthew. Listen, keep it quiet for a seco-

A security bloke bounds on set then puts his forearm out to impede Noel's path

Noel: Please! Just let me activate the gunge tank. It's Anthea Turner's go in the booth this week.

Sweep: SQUEEE-EAAAAK!

Noel is calmly led away

Noel (OOV): Wait Till I Get You Home is up next.

[Glebe]

MICHAEL ASPEL: I'm taking a break from the Antiques Roadshow to fill in for Noel. And now will you please welcome my first guest who is going to knock at the pretend door... it's the Bruno Brooks, ladies and gentlemen!

NOEL (down the chimney): I'll have that fucking house back by week's end at this rate, Aspel!

[Gregory Torso]

Some fantastic posts on this page.

[Huxleys Babkins]

MICHEL ROUX JR.: And joining us for this week's celebrity omelette challenge, the man who revolutionised breakfast radio, primetime TV and day time game shows, it's Noel Edmonds.

NOEL: Thanks for having me.

MICHEL ROUX JR.: Ready, set... GO!!!

*NOEL CRACKS 30 EGGS INTO A BOWL AND BEATS THEM WITH A FORK*

MICHEL ROUX JR.: Alright Noel, you only need three! You've not even got the pan on!

*NOEL JUST KEEPS BEATING THE EGGS, HE TURNS TO ROUX AND SMILES*

MICHEL ROUX JR.: Are you OK, Noel?

*NOEL PICKS UP THE BOWL AND TRIES TO TIP THE CONTENTS ALL OVER ROUX. ROUX IS STRONGER AND TIPS THE BOWL BACK AND THE CONTENTS SPILL ALL DOWN THE FRONT OF NOEL'S TROUSERS*

NOEL: Michel, that's not how the gunge tank is supposed to go. That's the last time I invite you to my Crinkly Bottom kitchen on this new, mid-morning series of Noels House Party. Look at what you've done to my one good pair of trousers. What a great sport, ladies and gentlemen. Give him a round of applause.

*A CONFUSED MURMURING FILLS THE STUDIO. NOBODY KNOWS QUITE WHAT TO DO*

NOEL: Coming up later, Gary Wilmott gets his Gotcha, but next, we're coming straight to your home, NTV. Go!

*NOEL LOOKS AT THE MONITORS BUT NOTHING APPEARS, JUST MICHEL ROUX'S AUTOCUE*

NOEL: Looks like we're having some technical difficulties. Who's that at the door? Oh, it's Les bloody Dennis, host of Les' House Party. You took my house, Dennis. You're not having my Saturday Kitchen.

MICHEL ROUX JR.: There's no-one there, Noel. Come on, let's go off-stage and have a chat during this Keith Floyd bit.

NOEL: Can I do food heaven? I'd choose biscuits.

[Glebe]

^Karma.

[Huxleys Babkins]

INT. NEIL MORRISSEY'S HOUSE

*Ding Dong*

NEIL: Who could that be at this time of night?

NOEL: Come on Sammy, pack your bags. We're going on the road!

NEIL: Noel? What are you doing here? Do you need to borrow some more money? I just got my Boon residuals from ITV3, so I can can give you twenty quid til next Thursday.

NOEL: Nah, where we're going we don't need money. Or a house. I'm bringing back The Noel Edmonds Saturday Roadshow!

NEIL: Oh wow. I'm really happy for you Noel. I'd love to help you out, mate. When does filming start?

NOEL: We're not filming it Sammy. It's just you, me and Blobby on a roadtrip in the Manta.

*NEIL LOOKS OUT THE DOOR TO SEE A BATTERED OPEL MANTA PARKED IN THE DRIVEWAY. IN THE BACK SEAT, A TRAMP WITH YELLOW ADHESIVE SPOTS ON HIS FACE AND NAKED TORSO IS SWIGGING WHITE LIGHTNING FROM A BOTTLE*

NEIL: You know, you can always come and stay here with me if you like. 'Til you're back on your feet.

NOEL: I'm already on my feet Sammy. And these feet are going to drive to Old Trafford, the theatre of dreams, for the first episode. We're gonna do gunge, NTV, Grab A Grand and Ryan Giggs is getting a Gotcha if we can find him.

NEIL: That sounds great Noel. But I don't think I can come... You take care now mate.

NOEL: Say it.

NEIL: Noel...

NOEL: Please.

NEIL: Noel...

NOEL: You don't have to come. Just say it. For me. For Blobby.

NEIL: I'm Sammy The Chamois! I'm the window cleaner! I clean the windows!

NOEL: *now visibly crying* Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. What do you think Blobby?

"BLOBBY": I've pissed meself.

[Glebe]

HENRY KELLY: Hello everybody, I've taken over the House Party. Now let me intoduce a familiar face, it's Mr. Blob-

JCB (outside): RRRRRRRUMBLE!!!

KELLY: -er, now it's time to meet your favourite and mine, Mr.-

JCB: GGGGGRUNCH!!!

KELLY: Er, hang on a minute... (looking out window) ... there he is, legging it across the field... WE KNOW IT WAS YOU, NOEL, YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYBODY!

[JoeyBananaduck]

I don't know why, but I'm astonished I'm not the only one who remembers Neil Morrissey as Sammy The Shammy/Chamois. I have good reason to - I did an impression of him once in the school playground in primary, slipped on a patch of ice and fell on my arse. "Hello! I'm Sammy the Shammy the Win-wHAUUGHHHhh!!!" Don't think I've ever made people laugh as much since.

[repost to desolation thread]

[Glebe]

I can't properly remember, but it sounds familiar.

[Glebe]

MICHAEL BARRYMORE: Owight you lot, I've taken over as host! And our first guest tonight is Brian May, who will play the National Anthem atop the roof of Crinkley Bottom!

NOEL (on ladder): Oi! Clear off, you homemade guitar playing, poodle haired, badger loving tory!