Victorian Males Were Often Named Victor.

Woman! This child does not adequately function, and I request you take him back immediately!

You see, I require him to fetch and bag the fruits I sell on my trading barge. Yet, all this ghastly child wants to do is gargle, laugh at the flying pigeons and ... dare I say, 'sully' his own undergarments.

Also, his remote-control function is far from satisfactory. I have to sell twice the amount of Rambutans I'm used to, in order to buy enough coal-fired power cylinders to keep him in his perpetual malaise. He is also without Bluetooth connectivity.

I have a valid receipt.

Super Slow-Motion Punch Fest.

William James Mercer : Card Game.

Oh hell, not again! Jim is betting his wife Ethel on this hand. That poor old cow has been passed around so many times.

I hope I win her one day. I'd put ice cubes in her vagina.

Dr. Smith Is Part Of The Resistance.

Your teleportation muscles are now fully developed.

As soon as your shoulders sprout some hair, you'll be ready to begin fighting the inter-dimensional civil war.

William James Mercer Checks His Barn.

No way, Bessie. You ain't leaving that pressurised concentration chamber ... or 'sex pod' ... until you give me that unholy cow-lizard hybrid.

How To Eat Watermelon.

This is the most amazing video I have ever seen.

The Applicant, by J. Sparks.

You'll need the sound turned up for this one.

Jesus Genie.

You're each pure of heart and mind, so I have the power to reward you with anything you desire within the restrictions of these Earthly realms ... but let it be known before we get started, that I will not grant any one of you a beard as fine as my own. You have to earn this kind of growth.

The Blessed Hypnotherapy Hotline.

Hello, you've reached the 'Blessed Hypnotherapy Hotline'. Brian Blessed speaking, how can I help?


...oh, I see.


Well, there's no need for you to worry over your finances any longer, because over the course of this call I've utilised mind rays to make you believe you're now a spider! Spiders have no use for money.

Glad I could help. Good-day.

The Mask, by J. Sparks.

William James Mercer Takes His Meds.

Ok, so let's check the label...

It says, "Side effects may include severe 'Negroism' - Where your appearance will temporarily change to that of a black person."

Yep, that's pretty much the case.

God's Rottweiler

Star Crazee Whaaaaaaa???

She's got a cool tattoo, but shit haircut.

Why do I have eyes like The Devil?

Heath Ledger Found Alive And Well... In Heaven

Ladies and Gentlemen, hold on to your hats and Naomi Watts wipe away your tears because Heath Ledger is here! That's right! Heath Ledger is back from the dead and now living in sunny Heaven. This is the exclusive first interview with the Hollywood star since his death.

Yes, I agree, I do look younger. That's what living in Heaven will do for a man. You want me to talk about the day I died do you? Well it was all rather sudden. I took a load of pills because I was a bit unhappy, felt a ringing in my ears and I was dying, Naomi was crying and the world was prying into my life, or lack of it should I say. And I so wanted to finish that Terry Gilliam film, whatever it was called. Wasn't it The Adventurnium of Professor something. Anyway, I wanted to finish it but I got a better offer from Jesus to come join him and his father the lord God almighty in his kingdom and I'm afraid it was an offer I couldn't refuse. It was odd when I first died. I heard bells in the distance and then Jesus Christ stood before me surrounded by a magnificent light and I asked him; "Are you The Joker?" and he replied; "No. You are.". That was the greatest thing to never happen to me in my life. Jesus even forgave me for portraying a gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain, which was nice of him. It was only after a couple of months being dead and the subsequent release of The Dark Knight that I realised I must come back to earth and get my Oscar that I'm due to recieve next year. Yes, I guess you could say I have lived a charmed life... And death.

Fish License.

The Accordion Bastard.

Sweet Chin Music.

Don't Make Fun Of Daddy's Voice.

There's not nearly enough cinnamon on this lump of cottage cheese. Pile on the 'mon, honey.


Hey, wait a second ... Oh God, no ... Don't tell me you put your hands in my food again!

What did I say I'd do to you if you put your hands in my food ever again? That's right, I'll drive you over to the homeless shelter, and have you fuck a homeless man.

Wivvaspoon.

William James Mercer Is A Dog.

"mmmmraaaw..."

(Dogs can't talk)

Saint Manilow.

If I were you, I'd keep a safe distance away from me for a little while.

The tentacles on my legs are oozing a fairly abominable puss. On the plus side, it must mean that mating season is soon to start.

Dr. Smith : Practical Jokeist.

Wait a minute, you have something written on your tonsil ... "Made In China".

haha - not really!

I've always wanted to say that to somebody in this situation. You do have plenty of Tuberculosis, though.

Americans Call It 'Vacation', For Some Reason.

You are recording this, aren't you honey? I can't see the red light from here.

I just want to make sure you are recording this, because, like, I'm going to point up to this giant tooth in a moment and say; "I bet the tooth-fairy had to cut a cheque for this one!"

That line is going to be a fuckin' riot when we get back and show this video to our friends.

William James Mercer Hates Being In A Care Home.

Darts! That's all you ever talk about. "Hey Ethel, d'ya fancy taking a trip to feed the ducks at the lake? No, I wanna play darts ... Hey Ethel, wanna go to the store and shoplift some magazines? No, I wanna play darts." You're so fucking predictable. It's not as if you actually play darts, what with your arthritis. There's no way you'd be able to grip a dart between those mangled, cornflake-shaped fingers.

Truth'Say

Barack Obama - my fucking Dad.

Signed,

Noel Sullivan
(Available for work)

Dr. Smith 's Hitlercratic Oath.

The envisoroleo is clear. Your weytipino is slightly inflamed, as is the oomphatilic passage.

Yeah ... I'm just making words up.

Noah Always Looks On The Bright Side.

I find it mildly terrifying that the potential vice president of the world's most powerful nation believes in creationism. Mind you, if she comes to power perhaps she can reinstate the ducking of witches!

Rum Punch.

Oh heavens, Father's finances have taken another tumble.

We'll have to train young Martha here to box, so that she can slug it out with the sailors at the docks for money. Remember to keep your shoulders moving at all times, and strike at the other fellow's ghoulies whenever you can. Your sister will keep an eye out for any sailors.

William James Mercer Tastes Freedom.

I'm glad to be out of that awful care home.

I'm a little sad to be leaving all that lovely necrophilia behind, though.

Building This City On Rock And Roll.

How did my father create the universe, you ask?

It wasn't too difficult. He bought some land. Hired some contractors. Bob's your uncle.

Dude's Just Trying To Get A Free Meal.

There are fewer more repulsive things than watching a guy chew his way through a 72oz lump of meat.

Cyril Vs. Cybil

And now we take you, the reluctant viewer into the dark and frightening world that they call "MARRIAGE".

Cyril and Cybil Conklin have been married Five years. Some of them good. Now things are about to take a turn for the worst. We join them during a shopping trip to Sainsbury's.

Cyril: I like Sprite Zero.

Cybil: Sprite Zero tastes horrible. What's wrong with regular Sprite?

Cyril: It has too many calories.

Cybil: Not that many.

Cyril: Look, I'm fat enough as it is okay? I wanna drink a soda and I don't want the calories.

Cybil: Okay, okay, we'll get Sprite Zero. Happy now?

Cyril: Not really. My fingers still hurt.

Cybil: That's because you're a silly bugger.

Cyril: I didn't ask to get them jammed in the bloody car door did I?

Cybil: What is B.R?

Cyril: What?

Cybil: On the shopping list. It just says "B.R".

Cyril: Oh, that. That's short for bog roll.

Cybil: Charming.

Cyril: For God's sake Cybil, would you stop being such a snob.

Cybil: There you go again, calling me a snob. I think Father was right about you. You're not good enough for me.

Cyril: Oh, here we go again. The old "You're not good enough" routine again.

Cybil: It's true. Father said tha-

Cyril: Father said this, Father said that. I'm sick of hearing about that old bastard.

Cybil: How dare you call my Father a bastard.

Cyril: Oh look, it's "feed your family for a fiver". I wonder if that Jamie Oliver thing really works. Could save us a bob or too.

Cybil: I don't care about bloody Jamie Oliver. You just insulted my Father!

Cyril: I wish he was dead.

Cybil: WHAT???

Cyril: No, I take it back. I wish I was dead.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Noah's Been In The Business Enough Time To Know.

What the hell am I paying you idiots for?! I want a tv commercial which will speak to all the neighbourhood kids - and draw them to my arcades. It's not that fucking difficult.

Look, this is what I have in mind; I want a naked, pregnant chick to fly through a school and into a classroom. This chick pulls a bow and arrow out of her shitter and fires the arrow through the neck of one of the kids. The kid goes beserk and runs riot around the school cannibalising other kids - causing an unholy bloodbath. We fade away to a lone boy playing one of my machines at one of my arcades ... a good-looking kid, no fat kids or any of those grubby 'ethnic' fuckers ... playing away with a huge smile on his face. R. Kelly's 'I Believe I Can Fly' chirps over, and a title card says something like; "Only the smartest kids are ditching school today to visit Noah's Arcade".

Get R. Kelly on the phone, pronto.

The Pride Of Tarrant Awards.

All of these 'Pride Of Britain Awards' belong to the dastardly Chris Tarrant, now!

BWAH-HA-HAAAAA!

It takes an unsung hero to be nominated for one of these awards, a noble person to actually win one ... but it takes a legend to steal them all!

William James Mercer Lives In A Care Home.

No fuckin' way!

I lost banana bingo again!? Oh, fuck you all! This game has got to be rigged. You can shove your bananas and your goddamned crooked game up your backside! I ain't stickin' around for any more of this shit.



...hm. This walking frame sure makes walking a helluva lot slower.

Chris Tarrant's Chocolate-Flavoured Boob Milk.

Dem cornrows be lookin' tight on yo big day, Annie.

William James Mercer Gets A Helper.

I just want to know, are you going to stand there while I unload this un-godly beefer of a crap ... I mean, I don't have a problem with that. But I'll warn you that there may be a pint or two of severe blood loss gushing down from my overly-stretched ringpiece after I pass this massive dunker. The old bumhole doesn't quite hold it together as it used to.

Dr. Smith Is A Working Man Like Anybody Else.

I must insist that you pull all of the little hairs out from between your teeth before you next visit me. It's like I'm giving Mrs. Reynolds her annual smear test every time you open your mouth...

Calling Katie Part 7, by J. Sparks.

Featuring the vocal skills of J. Sparks.

Noah's Box Of Tricks.

It's been a while since I did one of my impressions.

Ooh Betty!








...Frank Spencer.