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# Sir Jimmy Saville suddenly awakes, tied securely to a workbench in a room deep underground.
He glances around fearfully, only able to move his head, his eyes taking in the vats of bubbling green liquid and other chemicals of reanimation. With horror he realises that he is naked, stripped of both tracksuit and bling.

From behind a curtain at the end of the room steps Lisa Riley, also nude, with a wicked glint in her eye. Strapped around her pelvis is a huge, cigar-shaped phallus, the tiny Post-it® note stuck to the tip reads 'Welcome back. Now get your laughing gear around this, chum'
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:45, archived)
# This could be a late night sitcom.
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:48, archived)
# Starring David Schwimmer.
Of course, we'd have to kill him first
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:55, archived)
# Lisa Riley has to play herself though
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:59, archived)
# This has promise
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:48, archived)
# Saville attempts to scream like a girl, but his cries are stifled by the mouthful of sap-bleeding pine.
Tears begin to prick his eyes, as his cheeks are pummelled from within and jagged splinters force their way into his gums. He gags as the rough wooden member slides back and forth over his tongue, yet his stomach seems to have been pumped, leaving him with nothing to bring up. Then through his water-blurred eyes, he becomes aware of someone watching silently from the shadows ...
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:02, archived)
# Ooh, a cliffhanger!
*waits with bated breath*
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:10, archived)
# Suddenly the wooden member is torn from his mouth, dislodging a selection of dentures which scatter like confetti over the tiled floor.
Shouting with pain, Sir James opens his eyes just in time to see Lisa Riley's gargantuan bulk tipping backwards away from him, arms flailing for purchase before her body impacts the ground head first, her pendulous breasts falling one under each arm and bouncing thrice before settling. Her eyes close and she begins to snore, with a sound like someone pulling knotted cord through the nostril of a cardboard warthog. Turning his head to one side, his eyes roam her inert body, lingering on the sexy regions before finally spotting the lasso buried in the folds of her neck. 'Thank you, oh thank you', moans Serj Aimes, as the cattle-wrangling stranger steps forward into the light.
If you think the stranger was Dave Lee Travis, turn to 43.
If you think the stranger was Ewan McGregor, turn to 75.
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:25, archived)
# simply wonderful
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:35, archived)
# :D
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:44, archived)
# This is how most of my dates end.
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 13:52, archived)
# The '®' tickled me immensely.
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:06, archived)
# You can't be too careful
there might be a company rep watching and I'm sure they'd want their products portrayed in the best light :)
(, Mon 27 Feb 2012, 14:12, archived)