Tuesday, 23 September 2008

Guilty Pleasure

It's that time of the year again, and no I'm not talking about my yearly bath, I'm talking about Strictly Come Dancing, which wasn't a porno version of Strictly Ballroom as I had hoped!

I've been following the show for the last few years, and now my saturday nights are spent hanging naked upside down in my cave, watching the celebrities dance with vigor. But the reason I watch it isn't to see the lovely dancing, or for Bruce's jokes. It's for one reason and one reason only.

It's live and anything can happen, including the inevitable death of Brucey, or is it inevitable?

Bruce Forsythe (I apologise to all concerned if that is spelt wrong) is a legend of course, and he's still going strong, which for a man of his age seemed strange, so I thought "wait a minute, theres something not quite right here".

To the untrained eye he is but an old man (entertaining?) the masses, but to a trained idiot like myself, he's something more. A vampire maybe? It's true, I've never seen Bruce in the daytime, but surely there would be a string of bodies from his victims littering the souless halls of the BBC. Maybe he goes into a cryogenic chamber as soon as they finish the show? Maybe he found the Holy Grail?

Well, I can reveal to you all now, that the answer is none of the above. I spoke to Old Man Withers who "haunted" the abandoned theme park outside of town until some meddling kids screwed him over when he was just about to sign a land development deal. Old Man Withers and Bruce (who then went by the name of Tamara) used to work on the same carnival back in the good old days. According to Withers, Bruce like so many of us, was approached by the devil and offered him an extended life and a BBC contract for Bruce's soul. So he agreed.

So there we have it, he sold his soul like so many of us, to the big red man. Unfortunalty I sold MY soul to Santa for a Transformers lunchbox, it was worth it. Food tastes so much better when eating it out of Optimus Prime's groin.

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