WEDNESDAY 12th SEPTEMBER 2007

Okay, this seems as good a time as any to tell you about my ALMIGHTY DILEMMA TO END ALL DILEMMAS, as well as my inspired possible solution.

THE PROBLEM:

Should Perdy end up with Matthew or Grayson? You see, most of the time I think Perdy and Grayson are really good (also, hot) together (and then there's also all that sanctity of marriage stuff, yadda yadda), but then he goes and does something UNSPEAKABLY INSUFFERABLE and I find myself unable to come up with one good reason why Perdy is not at it with Matthew as we speak. It is, as you will see, a quandary.

But, there is hope!

PROPOSED SOLUTION:


Now, this little baby is what I like to call the 'Grayson, you absolute git!' button. Which, if marketed right, I genuinely believe could rival even sliced bread in the absolute genius stakes (I may even sell it with small tubs of jam and butter, such is my conviction).

Basically, the concept is this: when Grayson starts being a pompous prat, I will press the button, which will result in an alarm immediately going off in the Emmerdale studios, which will be Perdy's cue to sprint over to Home Farm as quickly as is humanly possible and pretend she's now married to Matthew King. It will also (and this is the particularly nifty bit) instantaneously transport some sort of really big stick over to where they're filming, with which one of the crew can whack Grayson over the head until he stops annoying me.

If Gray later redeems himself, I will simply press this button:


and Perdy will leg it back to Mill Cottage as quickly as she can!

Georgia Slowe gets some free exercise, I'm saved from making any tough decisions, quite literally everyone wins! (Bar the loser who came up with the idea of 'sliced bread', obviously. How much of an idiot must he be feeling now?!)


Anyway, I'm afraid there's just a short recap (a "weecap", if you will) tonight, because people keep inconveniently asking me to go out and do things with them. DO THEY HAVE HAVE NO SENSE OF PRIORITY WHATSOEVER?


In this episode, we discover that Rosemary, if pressed to choose, prefers to Plot Evilly by candlelight in the living room, which is excellent if you're the sort of arch-nemesis whose main priority is the aesthetics of your wicked deeds, but not so clever if you don't actually want your daughter-in-law to discover you forging her suicide note. Which she does, because, fair enough, if I woke up in the middle of the night my mind would probably leap to "OH GOD MY HOUSE IS ON FIRE" before "Nah, it's okay, my husband's mother's just plotting my downfall again, might as well go back to bed." But this is possibly because

a) I do not have a husband, and
b) As a Girl Guide "Fire Safety" badge-holder, I take my responsibilities very seriously.


All is not lost, though, because Rosemary does have the good sense to quickly hide her cauldron, broomstick, toad and fake suicide note before Perdy comes into the room. The only problem is, she neglects to also hide the rest of the pad of paper she was writing on. "Why," she probably thought to herself, "it's not like any sort of plucky girl detective is going to thwart my wrongdoing!"


THAT, I THINK YOU WILL FIND, WILL TEACH HER TO RECKON WITHOUT PERDITA DREW.


Things That Finally Happen:

• David finally meets the mysterious DeSouza -- but only after she keeps him waiting around for a while first, because she is in a 'meeting' (read: 'admiring her lovely long legs'). After some time, he asks why she's not out yet. It's called "dramatic suspense for people who don't read spoilers", young David.
  
  
  Unfortunately, unless David happened to watch the programme before he was cast in it at all, the unveiling of DeSouza (which is played out with the customary 'spinning round on chair' action -- I don't know how producers managed to cope when they did this sort of scene in the days before wheely chairs) probably didn't have that much of an impact on him.
  
  
• (Oh, DeSouza's Nicola Blackstock by the way)
  
  
• Bishop George and Emily finally get it on in the vestry.
  
  
• (Well, they haven't yet, but it's a mere MATTER OF TIME)
  
  
• Andy finally discovers that he does have one romantic bone in his body, it's just that he was having difficulty locating it under all those bulging muscles (talking of: can we say 'overcompensation'?)
  
  
  
• Dr Prentice finally learns that there is such a thing as good betrayal of patient confidentiality.
  
  
  
• Grayson finally, finally, finally twigs that sunshine does not permanently emanate from his mother, that she does not spend her days frolicking with little fluffy bunnies and giving little orphan children sweeties, and that she does run classes in 'poisoning one's daughter-in-law' at the Hotten community centre.
  
  
• Ooh, he's just like that Inspecter Morse off the TV!

TUESDAY 11th SEPTEMBER 2007

Perdy is on the phone to Matthew. "I think," she says, "You-Know-Who might be about to get her collar felt!" Now, in case you, like me, are marginally slow on the uptake, here are a few (well two) points of clarification regarding this sentence:

1. When she says, 'You-Know-Who', Perdy is probably aiming more along the lines of 'Rosemary, my mother-in-law' than 'Lord Voldemort, fictional Dark Lord'. This, however, is never actually made explicit.

2. 'Getting your collar felt' is quite probably intended in an idiomatic way. What Perdy is saying is that, since her visit to the police station, Rosemary might be in a spot of bother with the boys in blue. What she is probably not implying is that Rosemary has an exceptionally nice collar.

She explains that she had been sure Rosemary had doctored her fruit juice because of her eagerness for Perdy to drink it (it would, incidentally, be a brilliant twist if it turned out that there was actually nothing wrong with the juice at all, and that Rosemary only pretended to be a Minion of Evil because she feared that people might laugh at her childhood dream of becoming a purveyor of fine fruit juices).

Now, you'd be forgiven for thinking that Perdy might at least have... waited until Rosemary had actually LEFT THE HOUSE before revealing every detail of her plan. Out loud. She has, however, evidently been attending Debbie Dingle's 'Covering Your Tracks 101' lessons, because Rosemary is in fact standing a couple of metres away from her. And, judging by the look on her face, there is a WILD POSSIBILITY that she might have somehow cracked Perdy's ingenious code! I KNOW, I KNOW, IT'S PRACTICALLY INCONCEIVABLE.


"Does she know that you've done this?" asks Matthew.

"No, no," says Perdy, who has clearly ordered her dialogue with a side serving of Dramatic Irony. ("Why, it's not like she's standing in the hallway as we speak!"

"...Oh no, my bad, there she is.")


Over at the cafe, David, Betty and Jasmine are having an emergency staff meeting.

BETTY: "He's buttering us up because he's going to lay one of us off!"

And unless he's got a bit of a thing for (astronomically) older women Betty, he's probably going to pick his young and gorgeous girlfriend over you! For obvious (though unprintable) reasons!

DAVID: "I've decided I'm not going to take this lying down."

Oh. Okay, take back what I just said then.

It's okay, though, because David has a Plan to defeat DeSouza once and for all! And if it's the sort of Plan that involves someone chopping all his hair off and confiscating his gel, it is possible I may weep with joy.

Over at Andy and Jo's, Andy's divorce from Katie has finally been finalised. Apparently though, it's "not something I'd want to celebrate about". Andy, mate, here's a bit of friendly advice for life in general: when your new girlfriend asks whether you're pleased about finally being free from your ex-wife, the woman from whose clutches she snatched you, unless you want something implanted in your person that wasn't there before, you do not hesitate!


You do everything you can, stopping at no lengths, to communicate your INTENSE AND INDESCRIBABLE JOY at this turn of events: fashion a costume from the divorce papers, perhaps, and wear it while performing some sort of interpretative divorce dance, or possibly while putting on a one-man musical of your own writing, entitled something like "FREE! The Musical: One Thousand Reasons Why I'm Happy I Divorced Katie And Ended Up With YOU, JO STILES!!". You know, something along those lines.

Jo suggests they might go on holiday to celebrate. Honestly. My suggestions were both more cost-effective and craftsy!

Katie is less happy about the situation, but Rosemary kindly reassures her, telling her that she'll find someone else in no time.

(not particularly) Hidden Subtext: LIKE FOR INSTANCE MY SON.

Katie remarks that Perdy looked much happier the other evening. Rosemary, on the other hand, reckons that they let her out too soon. Oh, Rosemary! How you continue to surprise me with your unexpected and unprecedented views!

(I loathe my daughter-in-law. Do I:

a) rejoice that she is finally back in the warm and welcoming bosom of her family, or
b) OH GOD SEND HER BACK SEND HER BACK WHY IS SHE STILL ALIVE DOESN'T SHE KNOW THAT THAT IS THE ONE PART OF HER PERSONALITY THAT REALLY ANNOYS ME SEND HER BACK RIGHT NOW!!

It's a tough one, so I'll give you a minute or two to think about it.)


Rosemary "accidentally mentions" that she "thinks" she "saw something" that morning ("Oh aren't I silly letting these things slip! Tum-te-tum.") and Katie falls for the bait like, I don't know, a particularly easily fooled fish. "I like Perdy," she says, urging Rosemary to tell her all the details, "I might be able to help her." ("Okay, so it's still a rough plan, and I haven't ironed out the finer details yet, but basically I thought I could give her a bit of a helping hand by, I dunno, stealing her husband? Obviously I'm not a psychiatrist or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's the sort of thing that really gives comfort and support to mentally unbalanced women!").

"I was bringing her some tea," says Rosemary, "and I thought I saw her put something in the drawer of the bureau. And it looked like... a large bag of pills!" And did it by any chance have a big red sticker on it saying 'PERDY'S SUICIDE STASH: ROSEMARY KEEP OUT!', issued by the Department of Being Obvious?

Then she tells Katie "not" to tell Grayson *, because telling Grayson would be "very very bad". ** But obviously, she has "nothing to do with it". ***

* Translation: "WHY ARE YOU STILL STANDING HERE? WHY HAVEN'T YOU TOLD GRAYSON YET? I ASK YOU TO DO ONE THING...!"

** Translation: "IF YOU DO NOT TELL GRAYSON I AM AFRAID I WILL HAVE TO KILL EVERYONE YOU HAVE EVER HELD DEAR TO YOU. THAT'S JUST THE WAY I ROLL!"

*** Translation: "Oh and do you think you could pick me up some more pills from the doctor on your way back, dear? I've just about run out!"


We are left only to wonder what decision Katie might make!

Meanwhile, Betty is looking for some paint stripper. "What does she want paint stripper for?" asks a bemused Alan. I'm no expert, but I think it's traditionally used for such unlikely tasks as stripping paint, Alan, although obviously it's just as possible she might be planning on sniffing it on a street corner with Sandy.


At the vicarage, Laurel says to Ashley, "It's so nice to be alone at last!", which, as everyone knows, is the cue for everyone in the village to form an orderly queue and file into your home one by one with urgent problems about pressing things like lost goats and disputes about sheep (just as in Soapland "I just know we're going to be together forever: you're the only one for me!" actually means "I just know that in a matter of hours you will die in a freak accident while I engage in lurid sexual acts with your best friend, your mother and your dog!").


And then the doorbell rings: Laurel and Ashley are left exhasperated. If these people would just listen to me every once in a while! It's Bishop George (by the way, have we checked his credentials? Are we sure he's a proper bishop? Why doesn't he have the right sort of hat?)! He's come to visit for the day! How lovely! And he wants to use the bathroom! How wonderful!

At the pub, meanwhile, Betty and Jasmine are sabotaging DeSouza's cleaning products with the paint stripper! Okay, so they might not actually be stripping any paint, but YOU WATCH if they don't go and get high in the park the minute they're done.


At the cafe, Jo is rubbing Katie's nose in the holiday she's planning with Andy. The important thing to remember though, says sometimes-gay-but-not-today Gray, is that she can't hold a candle to Katie. For the sake of health and safety, she probably shouldn't try holding one to Betty and Jasmine either, because I think all that paint stripper might well explode.

As Laurel stocks up on food supplies at the shop, she tells Emily that George has landed on them unexpectedly. And this, boys and girls, is why you should always look out for low-flying bishops. And then she invites Emily over to join them for lunch -- watch out, Laurel, you're playing with fire there! And from my experience, vergers are a bloody pain to put out.


Emily looks reluctant, but agrees to come after she hears that Ashley was supposedly the one who wanted her to -- be fair, she's only human, and it's unrealistic to expect her (or any other defenceless woman) to resist Ashley's hunky charms (had he not followed the call of our Lord, he most likely would have joined the Chippendales).

"Why didn't she want you to tell me?" Gray asks Katie at the cafe. I have been through this: I really wish these people would catch up! Anyway, alarmed at the gravity of the situation, Grayson practically sprints out of the cafe, so desperate is he to get back home as quickly as possible. Well, once he's given Katie a bit of a kiss, anyway. Suicidal wife or no suicidal wife, there is still such a thing as good manners!



When he gets back to Mill Cottage, he rifles through the drawer in the living room, only to find a bottle of whiskey and a bag of pills. What is this, a chest of emo cliches? What's in the next drawer, a 'slitting your wrists in the bath in the dark while listening to Morrissey' kit? At this point, Perdy appears, only to discover Gray holding the whiskey and pills and looking depressed. Naturally, she's confused by the situation. And maybe wondering why exactly her husband seems to have been driven to suicide.

She tells Grayson that she's never seen these things before in her life. "Then how did they get there?" he asks. Ooh, it's a conundrum, isn't it! It wasn't him and it wasn't Perdy... oh, if only there were a third person living in the house who could possibly have done such a thing! ...Ah, well, there's not, clearly Perdy's mad.


He tells her not to start blaming his mother again and Perdy, genuinely terrified, realises they might use this as evidence to send her back to the hospital again. She pours the pills down the sink (the rats in the sewer are going to have a party tonight!) and gets Gray to promise never to lock her up again. Except maybe in the good way.

In the pub, David and Jasmine have won the contract back -- but at a price! Why is it that whenever people nowadays come up with these nefarious plots to sabotage rival cleaning companies (which they do, okay, frequently), they never think of the innocent victims, the polished wood surfaces? The heartless cads. And Andy tells Jo that they can't afford to go on holiday anymore thanks to Katie's enormous legal fees. "Is that it then?" asks Jo. "We're just not going?" Of course you aren't, Jo, you're only a minor subplot!

Over at the vicarage, during lunch, Emily asks Bishop George whether he's looking for a new housekeeper yet. Too soon, Emily! It's almost like she doesn't know that there are very specific Biblical rules regarding this sort of situation ("01 And Yea, verily the Lord did say to the Promiscuous Verger, "When Thine Bishop's Housekeeper hath passed unto Me in a manner most Tragic, thou shalt not enquire as to Possible Job Openings until precisely Three Monthes, Two Weekes and Five Dayes hath passed!" 02 And then He did Add: "And keep thine hands off Ashley, you Common Tart!")


As the representative of DeSouza provides David with a summons for the next morning, George leaves Ashley and Laurel, mentioning that he might spend a few quiet moments at the grave before heading back. This might just be my cynical nature, but when he says 'grave', does he mean 'pub'?

And at Mill Cottage, Rosemary tells Grayson that she's sure the doctors will send Perdy back if he tells them about the pills. "She's not going back!" he tells her. How I love the sound of evil backfiring in the afternoon! I'd buy the audiobook if I could.


Meanwhile, Matthew tells Perdy he doesn't think she should go back to Gray tonight. And, in order to successfully fulfil all my duties in my official role of Shallowest Person In The Universe and be eligible to win a free toaster, could I just point out that this has the potential to be the most attractive love triangle ever?


Or maybe it hasn't, because as they speak, Rosemary is (very badly) forging a suicide note in Perdy's handwriting...




(Oh, and there was also a storyline about Jamie and some parcels getting mixed up that I forgot to mention, but the fact that this recap didn't really lose anything without it probably tells you ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW) (Oh, and Pollard uses anti-aging cream. Blimey, either it's incredibly faulty, or he's actually 102.)

THERE WILL BE NO RECAP TONIGHT!

(I boomed, ominously)

And you can blame bloody London arsing Transport, for apparently deciding it would be a bit of a laugh to close a huge chunk of the Central Line this evening and leave me stranded in Shepherd's Bush for the rest of my life. This is no dramatic exaggeration!

Well, okay, it is, but the bottom line is it was a HORRIFIC EXPERIENCE which I will remember to my DYING DAY. And to add insult to cock-ups, I ended up missing Emmerdale, and now I will have to watch the repeat on ITV2 tomorrow morning and there will probably be one of those little flappy people in the bottom right hand corner (I always suspect that they don't even know any sign language, and what they're doing bears no resemblance to what's going on on the screen, they're just 'waving arms and making silly faces' enthusiasts).

But, right, here's my action plan: what I'm planning on doing is renaming this blog to "WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO 'LONDON TRANSPORT' A TRAIN UP YOUR ARSES YOU SMUG GREAT BASTARDS" and then basically each entry will be a separate personal attack on a different member of the London Underground staff team!

Then again, unless someone at the FBI is a particular fan of Paul Lambert (and let's face it, if they were then why would they admit it?) then armed officers are probably less likely to break into my house and arrest me if I just stick with the Emmerdale thing.

Anyway, I'll post a proper recap or two tomorrow. Possibly from prison.

(Even Rosemary is, frankly, both shocked and appalled)

MONDAY 10th SEPTEMBER 2007

In the kitchen at Mill Cottage, Rosemary is kind-heartedly making up a nice glass of homemade orange juice for Perdy (following the traditional Sinclair family recipe, naturally: one part oranges, twenty-five parts anti-malarial medicine, just to give it a bit of extra kick). And you can say what you want about Rosemary Sinclair-King (although not to her face, obviously, unless you actually need to do some research on padded cells), but if Perdy ever does decide to take an impromptu trip to Kenya, she's going to be practically indestructible! There really are few mother-in-laws would be so considerate.

And Gray wants to throw a party -- presumably to celebrate his wife's safe return home, rather than his mother's maniacal homicidal streak, although it's sometimes hard to tell with these posh folk! Any excuse for a social function! Rosemary's not impressed by the idea -- but, as she says, "I've been called many things, but never a killjoy." It's only a shame Perdy's parents didn't think to name her Joy.


Over at Barraclough's, Carl (which is an interesting way of spelling 'twat') is being characteristically kind and attentive to Grace. PLEASE SPOT THE DELIBERATE MISTAKE IN THE PRECEDING SENTENCE THERE. He's a bit too busy to spend the day with his depressed, lonely, grieving lady friend, although he's not heartless: he's prepared to spare a moment of his busy day to give her a lift to the station! Which, when you think about it, is actually very helpful: now she doesn't have to wear herself out with a long, tiring walk before THROWING HERSELF UNDER A TRAIN.


Anyway, back at Mill Cottage, Perdy is refusing to drink her orange juice. Has she run mad? Does she not care about getting her five-a-day?! As Gray phones Rosemary to discuss Important and Confidential (tonic water related) matters, Perdy takes the opportunity to escape to the kitchen and pour the juice into a handy, portable plastic bottle. This is probably essential if you need to be poisoned while on-the-go and want to avoid spillages.


At Ashley and Laurel's, meanwhile, Hilary gives Laurel some cabbage to stick down her bra. No, really. And then, day by day, she'll gradually add carrots, then potatoes, then a nice leg of beef, and by the end of the week she'll have produced the world's first fully underwired roast dinner! No, not really. Anyway, this slightly unusual serving suggestion (honestly, you'd never catch Saint Delia poaching food in her undergarments!) leads Doug to -- quite understandably -- make a quick exit: he's off for a spot of fishing with Zak and Shadrach. Hilary is reasonably horrified: fishing is very much a gateway hobby. Today he's reeling in a couple of fish, tomorrow it'll be crack cocaine and prostitution! You simply cannot take these things too lightly!

Over at the police station, Perdy, unaware that Rosemary has followed her there -- although I'm not sure why ("Well, ye-es, she would try to kill me just for marrying her son, but I hardly think she would stoop so low as not respecting my privacy!") -- is busy not being taken seriously by the desk constable. He cruelly disregards her request to see someone in charge, and seems to be labouring under the impression that she might want to report a missing poodle of some variety (OH GOD I'VE JUST REMEMBERED HOW MUCH I MISS PHOEBE). Perdy triumphantly pulls out her trump card, or rather her trump bottle of orange juice, the international symbol for "I'LL THINK YOU'LL FIND THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS". He is as awestruck as you might expect.


And now we're back to the thrilling "Old People versus Postman" subplot -- you wonder why some of this stuff hasn't been adapted for Hollywood yet, you really do! -- as Sandy knocks over Jamie's post cart with his van, Hotten's equivalent of 'a fatal hit and run'. What would Her Majesty say! So disgusted is he at the rampant hooliganism infecting the Dales, Jamie storms (well, wobbles: apparently Royal Mail equipment isn't designed to withstand VICIOUS ROAD CRIMES) off, just as Sandy discovers he's left behind a parcel. And, I've got to say, I can only applaud ITV for having the courage and insight to film a storyline covering such a topical and controversial issue as 'stuff getting lost in the mail'! What daring! What vision!

And, in less ground-breaking plots, we're back to the police station, where Perdy's in the interview room with a little policeman, who will from now on (quite inventively, I thought) be referred to as Little Policeman. He, too, doesn't seem entirely convinced by Perdy's claims, but at least he's being a bit nicer about it. "Sorry to moan," says Perdy, "but someone's trying to kill me!" (I love her when she's not drugged up!). She's not having any of his platitudes, because she has brought him "hard physical evidence":

"Look what she tried to do to me!" she cries, waving the orange juice at Little Policeman (whose name is apparently 'Barnaby'). Now, I really hope that at some point off-screen, Perdy has actually explained the concept and significance of the bottle to this poor bloke, or he must just be sat there thinking, "She did what?! She... tried to boost your Vitamin C levels and protect you from scurvy? Why, the HEARTLESS FIEND!".


Outside, Rosemary waits until Perdy's gone, before making her own visit to the police station. It is unlikely that she has decided to hand in her weapons to their Fruit Juices Armistice.


Meanwhile, as Hilary frets about Doug's welfare, he is indeed fishing. In the Dingles' front room. For cans of beer. Honestly, I have no idea why she was so suspicious about the whole situation!

Back at the police station, Charlie Vaughan, Dark Overlord of All Hotten, is having a word with Little Policeman about Mad Perdy and how she is mad. Little Policeman admits that Perdy hadn't mentioned that. No! Really?! Clearly no one has ever informed her of the well-established SCIENTIFIC EVIDENCE that proves that the sentence "Oh, and I've just escaped from the loony bin!" is capable of making any outlandish claim up to 120% more believable!


Vaughan tells him not to worry about the whole thing -- "the family", he says, "are taking appropriate steps", which sounds worryingly like code for "finding an appropriate spot to dump the body". But I actually have faith in Little Policeman -- he does, after all, share a name with that most upstanding of policeman, Midsomer's legendary DCI Barnaby, which leaves me safe in the knowledge that he will definitely bring some sort of justice for Perdy, regardless of what Vaughan might have to say on the matter. Er, that is, after accidentally letting 20-30 people die first. It's the Barnaby way!


At Mill Cottage, and Rosemary and The Least Professional Doctor Since Frankenstein are discussing Grayson's pointy head. Oh, and Perdy.

ROSEMARY: "I don't think she should have been released from hospital!"
DOCTOR: "What are you saying, Rosemary?!"

JUST A WILD STAB IN THE DARK HERE, but I think, think, that she might just be leaving a heavily-veiled hint that... she doesn't think she should have been released from hospital! Then again, I shouldn't be too cruel: not everyone can read people like I can.

Belatedly, Carl turns up at Grace's with some flowers. "Lovely," she says, "but I'm going away tonight, so I can hardly take them with me." That's right, love, kick a man where it hurts! IN HIS FLORAL BOUQUET. Carl is undeterred by her steely demeanour, though: he wants to prove to her that he understands what she's going through. Grace tells him she can't cope with him blowing hot and cold at the moment. "I don't want to stop seeing you," he tells her. You should probably stop wearing these then, mate:


As Laurel and Hilary pick Doug up from the Dingles' house, which is notable for its conspicious lack of fish (ooh, he'll be in trouble when he gets home!), at the the pub, the hard-hitting postal storyline races towards its nail-biting climax: an item of Alan's post is missing! HONESTLY I DON'T KNOW HOW THEY COME UP WITH THIS STUFF DAY AFTER DAY. How do they maintain the pace?


And David discovers that De Souza's have nicked his cleaning contract for the pub RIGHT from under his ridiculous haircut! Bless his (presumably now in need of a good clean) little heart.

And as Hilary and Doug prepare to go back home... well, their relationship might be looking a bit rough, but, hey, at least Hilary and Laurel are getting along better now! You win some (daughters), you lose some (marriages)!

SUNDAY 9th SEPTEMBER 2007

So, there I was, all prepared to write the most incredible recap of an episode of Emmerdale the world has ever seen. Well, I say 'the world', but obviously I mean 'the people in the world who actually watch Emmerdale'. Okay more specifically, 'the people in the world who watch Emmerdale and read this blog'. Alright! Fine! The most incredible recap of an episode of Emmerdale my mum has ever seen!

But then... well. This happened:

And, well, you could say I lost my train of thought. You could say that, but if you did so, you would probably be eligible for some sort of commemorative gold plaque celebrating your outstanding contributions to the field of Understating Things.

So, er, basically -- WELL PLAYED, PRODUCTION TEAM.

Some other things probably happened in last night's Emmerdale too, but regrettably they were all fully-clothed when they were doing it. IT'S ALMOST LIKE THESE PEOPLE DON'T WANT TO BE FEATURED ON THIS BLOG. Come on, work at it!

By the way, talking of Carl being naked (and if we weren't, then I can't think of any sensible reason why not), my mum told me last night that she thinks Carl has abnormal nipples, but can't articulate precisely why she should bring such a slur to these most magestic of teats. (Emmerdale: Bringing Families Together Since 1972, Nipple By Nipple). Anyway, they look normal enough to me, as far as nipples go, so basically, this is where you come in. What do you think about Carl's nipples? Do you think about Carl's nipples? How often? Please email me your thoughts, with regards to size, colour, texture and quantity, to the usual address, with the subject header 'Emmerdale Nipplewatch'. This is so I can easily differentiate between this and all the other nipple-related emails in my inbox, you understand.

Incidentally, it would make me feel a lot better about my life if this was the silliest thing I'd ever published on the Internet, where actual proper humans might have a chance (admittedly, an outside one) of actually seeing it. Or at least in the top hundred.

In other news...


Carrie is jealous of Louise because she gets "a night of passion with a young man in a uniform". Well, yes, while this is strictly true, I think we need to put things in perspective a bit here: a POSTMAN's uniform. Although delivering the post is undeniably an important responsibility, without which society as we know it would CRUMBLE, or at least COMPLAIN ABOUT ITS PHONE BILLS MORE, the impact of 'postman' isn't really in the same league as 'fireman' or 'policeman', is it? I mean, if you slather a postman in oil, he drops his letters! IT'S JUST NOT PRACTICAL.

Anyway, the cracks are beginning to show in Louise and Jamie's relationship: Jamie's "sex now, talk later... oh sorry did I say 'talk'? I meant 'MORE SEX!!'" attitude just isn't compatible with Louise's apparently advancing years (and music taste). At this rate, she might put her back out. While listening to some manufactured '60s pop music. (IT HAPPENS MORE OFTEN THAN YOU'D THINK!)

In other other news...

• Babies like to wee on Ashley. Which leads me to wonder, can vicars bless all fluids, or is it limited only to water? Does the child of a priest come fully equipped with Holy Urine? The Bible is not clear on this! In any case, I think that would definitely be useful: sometimes you just can't be bothered to nip back to the church every time there's a dramatic last-minute parish blessing emergency!
  
  
• Doug is showing dangerous signs of falling into the Emmerdale's Bad Crowd (or 'Zak and Shadrach', as they are known by day). You mark my words, he'll be tickling trout behind the bike sheds soon!
  
  
• David is being UNDERCUT by a MYSTERIOUS STRANGER. This is unfortunately not nearly as hot as it initially sounds.
  
  
• Debbie is, as ever, a MASTER OF SUBTLETY.
  
  
• Grayson and Perdy are incredibly cute. Also, in desperate need of a room.
  
  
  
  
• Eli has a big mouth.
  
  
  
  
• Rosemary is evil.
  
  
  
  
• Several of the above might not actually technically be classed as 'news'.

OH BY THE WAY DID I MENTION...



Anyway, I'll see you again tomorrow, with a more full recap of the day's happenings, and-- OH FORGET IT. I am making no promises until I know exactly who's wearing clothes and when.

THURSDAY 6th SEPTEMBER 2007

The episode opens with Shadrach, Belle and Zak walking idly down the road while a bus tries its hardest to knock them all down. None of them seem to be at all bothered by this THREAT OF IMMINENT DEATH, probably because Zak could easily beat it in some sort of, I don't know, bare fist fight? DO YOU SEE HOW I SUBTLY REINTRODUCED THAT STORYLINE FROM A FEW WEEKS BACK THERE? Shadders does the same thing, only not so skilfully: "Word has it," he says cheerfully, "that Michael O'Shea's upped the offer, providing with it a new plot device!" My link was so much better.

At this point, Belle, as is her wont, starts asking irritating questions, so they bundle her quickly onto the bus (er, lads, onto... under... really whatever feels natural). Before it drives away, Shadrach warns her that he hopes she's not going to "act clever and start irritating people". Shadders. Mate. In the time since that particular horse bolted, it's had enough time to go on a mad killing spree (wiping out at least 14 small Oxfordshire villages), get arrested, break free in a dramatic feat of show-jumping, make a living selling drugs to small children and shooting a few puppies just for good measure, find God, repent, and retire to a pleasant holiday barn in Spain. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PUT DOWN THE STABLE DOOR.

Oh, and then Eli pops unexpectedly out of a hedge. And even though I think Eli is a fantastic character, he is also one of the few people who can tell someone he's been sleeping rough in a ditch and leave them feeling desperately sorry for the undergrowth. But, anyway, he offers Zak some 'kit', to which Zak responds with one of the best "Do I look like the sort of person who buys stolen goods off of talking shrubbery?" looks I've seen in quite some time. And, with that, he and Shadrach stride haughtily off to the cafe for breakfast. Well, Zak strides haughtily -- Shadrach just sort of follows hopefully with the face of a man who senses a free meal.

Meanwhile, at Home Farm, Rodney presents Matthew with a necklace. "Oh, Rodders," cries Matthew, clasping it lovingly to his chest, "It's simply lovely! Come here, you loveable old rapscallion!". They embrace passionately, and -- oh, wait, sorry, wrong website. No, in actual fact, Rodney is informing Matthew of his IMPORTANT FINDINGS regarding Hotten's SEETHING HOTBED of HEINOUS JEWELLERY HEISTS committed by YOUNG MECHANICS (it's really getting to be something of an epidemic, but what can you do? Those cars just won't fix themselves!). Rodders reckons that there was never a real necklace, and that this whole thing was all a TERRIBLE SCAM. (Which it was, but not in the way he thinks). Following this revelation, Matthew is marginally horrified. Either that, or amused. Or angry. Or slightly baffled. WHEN SOMEONE ONLY HAS ONE AND A HALF FACIAL EXPRESSIONS, IT'S HARD TO TELL, OKAY.

Anyway, Matthew strides into the kitchen, muttering away. Carl's sitting at the table, looking dumbfounded as he reads the obituaries (which I often find are a suitable bit of light-hearted entertainment to accompany one's breakfast). And, you'll never guess, but someone has died! God, death's everywhere nowadays, isn't it? When you start reading about that sort of thing in the obituaries, you know it's a world gone mad! Oh no, wait, the reason he's shocked is that Grace's mother has apparently died. But on the bright side, Carl, at least there'll be no awkward meetings with the in-laws now! Look positive.

In the back room of the Woolpack, Lexi chastises Chas for not holding the truck driver up longer while she sifted through every bottle in the world looking for one tiny necklace. For future reference, Lexi, if you need someone to run interference for that long, you're better off hiring Godot. Anyway, Lexi reckons Chas should have used her womanly wiles to lure him into, er, the bathroom. Chas explains that a girl "has to have a limit". Can I just pause here for a moment to remind you that this is the same girl who recently SEXED A COMPLETE STRANGER TO DEATH? Homicide isn't a viable limit for her, but sex in the toilets? Why, that's just plain unhygienic!

Debbie is (perhaps not) surprisingly unbothered by the whole situation: "We took a risk, it didn't pay off, that's life." OH, WE CAN ONLY WONDER WHAT OTHER EXTERNAL FACTORS COULD POSSIBLY BE AFFECTING HER LAID-BACK AMBIVALENCE! She suggests that they try their luck again at an upcoming Holidays Abroad exhibition (I reckon it'll go something along the lines of, "So, you fancy a holiday in sun-soaked Florida? Right, if you just give us the £5000 now, in cash obviously, we'll give you the tickets. Just, er, ignore the bit where it says 'Destination: Skegness'. Don't be ridiculous, of course you can get to Florida on the bus!"). Chas is out, because she's a good girl. Allegedly. And Lexi will have to think about it.

Meanwhile, at Mill Cottage, Rosemary is giving Perdy a friendly hug. A friendly hug of DEATH. "How are you?" she asks. "You look wonderful! ...Bugger". Perdy apologies for her earlier mad behaviour, while Grayson smiles smugly, proud at this exciting new trick he has taught her. (And when you pat her on the head, she sits down and wags her tail!)

At Home Farm, Rodney fearlessly calls Bruce out on his DASTARDLY SCHEME. Bruce is left a bit confused by all this (quite understandably, because he hasn't got the foggiest what Rodney's actually on about). On the other hand, he's evidently not got an exactly squeaky-clean record -- so maybe, unbeknownst to us all, Debbie Dingle is not in fact working for the very forces of Evil, but actually for great justice!

Nah, that's a bit mad.

Deb's in the pub, very subtly loudly discussing the Scam of the Century with Eric. In public. Just as Lexi comes behind the bar. Nice move, Debbie! Funnily enough, Lexi seems to be (very slowly) twigging that Something Might Be Up! Well, I have no idea how, Debbie, not after you covered your trail with such elaborately well-planned cunning!! Honestly. I remember the days when criminals had to work for their stolen goods!

"Well!" says Laurel's father as he, Hilary, Laurel and Ashley sit around the table at the vicarage, "That hit the spot!" He does indeed seem reasonably satisfied -- I don't know, these vicars' families with their fetishes for incestuous swinging! What can you do with them! Hilary's less impressed, though: she doesn't like 'lettuce' (clearly some sort of sophisticated swinger's slang that I'm not privy to, being neither sophisticated nor a swinger. There is also a small off-chance that she actually is talking about the large pile of lettuce in front of her. I DON'T KNOW, I'M NOT A MIND-READER!). In fact, she announces, she and Doug are leaving! Right away! In an over-dramatic, flouncy sort of way! Because Laurel was mean!

At Hotten police station, Grace is sitting glumly at her desk, just as DCI Vikesh "I Had To Cut Down An Awful Lot Of Forests To Become This Wooden, Let Me Tell You!" Dasari enters. Woodenly. In a wooden sort of way, he asks her if she should be back at work this soon (obviously he was banking on using her office to store some planks while she was away). He looks mildly sympathetic in the same way as a tree might, until a lady comes in and whisks him away because there is a 'criminal' he needs to 'catch'. This is in fact Clever Policeman Talk for 'because he is late for his wood whittling course'.

Back at Mill Cottage, Gray has given his puppy -- er, sorry, Perdy! -- special permission to sit on the sofa! But just this once, and only if she's good and doesn't leave muddy pawprints all over the embroidery. Gray apologises for, y'know, sending her to a mental institution because his mother asked him to, explaining that he only really did it because he loved her! Which is perfectly understandable. I always get my loved ones sectioned! It's an essential ingredient for a healthy modern relationship! Anyway, he says, that's all water under the bridge now, because things are looking up, and "what could possibly go wrong?".

Rosemary saunters in. You called?

At the vicarage, Ashley feels it best to admit to Laurel that Emily did in fact make a pass at his irresistable holy man-meat. Laurel is, quite understandably, not hugely threatened by the whole situation, because she's "not exactly Beyonce". Personally, I think she needs to wise up a bit - it's only a matter of time until... well, if not Beyonce, then one of the lesser, not so attractive, members of Destiny's Child gets their claws into that Casanova-like, nubile hunk of a... vicar! Open your eyes, Laurel, you blind fool!

And we're back to the garage, where Bruce catches up with young Debbie. And promptly starts trying to strangle her. You know, I'm really starting to warm to this bloke!

Laurel, in the meantime, apologises to her mother, admitting that Emily is really a brazen hussy -- but at the same time, she's all, "Butt out please, bitch!". In slightly nicer, more vicar's wife appropriate words, obviously, but the gist is definitely there.

As Bruce continues to (increasingly unconvincingly) threaten Debbie, she, in turn, provides an unconvincing cover story. I think they're in the garage at the moment, but if I'm honest, I'm not really convinced anymore. Debbie calls out to a passing Eli that Bruce is trying to kill her. Eli just smiles cheerfully. You can't blame him, poor bloke, it's the best news he's had in ages.

But then Bruce slaps Debbie round the face, and clearly this is what Eli's (quite unconventional and incredibly short) book of ethics defines as 'crossing the line': "Now, that's not nice, mate," he says, pulling Bruce off Debbie (dangling your own brother off a roof, on the other hand, is what we class as 'lovely'). Bruce knocks him flying. Now, hang on a minute: strangling Debbie and giving Eli a mild concussion, all in one day? This man is my hero! He's a bit like the new Mother Theresa, only if she'd ditched that limiting anti-violence ethos! Unfortunately, Eli's had his whole lifetime to get used to a bit of minor brain damage, and ends up unequivocally winning the fight. And when Bruce gets out his mobile, Eli reminds him that he was sort of the one who started trying to kill Debbie in the first place (although, God knows, there's no court in the country that'd prosecute him). He glares for a bit, then leaves. Poor Bruce. And I had such high hopes.

Afterwards, Debbie smiles (at which point, at least twelve viewers die of abject shock -- I think the producers need to be very careful about letting Debbie try out any facial expression other than 'stormy', 'sulky' and 'a bit annoyed': there are some frail people watching this programme, and they do not want a massacre on their hands) and tells Eli that they both know why he saved her. Actually, I'm not entirely sure, but I've narrowed it down to a shortlist of likely candidates, most of which involve 'sex', 'money', 'blackmail', or possibly all three. "Because I'm a decent bloke, Deb," Eli clarifies. ODDLY ENOUGH THAT WAS NOT ON MY LIST.

Back at the pub, Rodney is gleeful while Paul stands behind the bar, Being Useless. OH WHAT A RADICAL SHIFT IN CHARACTERISATION! Honest to God, if someone stuck a lampshade on that man's head, no one would even notice he was there! That is, obviously, until a few weeks later when the punters might start to wonder when exactly the pub's sort furnishings had become so self-righteous. Anyway, "whatever happened to integrity?" asks Rodney. Integrity Dingle? Don't think I remember her, but 'prison' is probably a safe guess.

Rodney produces the necklace for the benefit of Chas and Lexi, who twitch slightly, and smashes it under a beer glass. Oh, Rodders, aren't you clumsy. "How did he get that?" asks Lexi, who clearly has not been watching the programme. "More to the point," says Chas, "diamonds don't shatter..."

I think the word you're looking for there, Chastity, is 'OWNED'.

Meanwhile at Mill Cottage, Grayson rewards Perdy for her good behaviour by letting her go for walkies. She is very excited by the prospect and bounds about a lot. This dog-owner dynamic evidently seems to work for them. Rosemary, on the other hand, is upset that a) Perdy has not drunk her POISONED orange juice, and b) is being allowed to go for a walk without a sensible leash. Thwarted, Rosemary!

At the Woolpack, Belle gets back from the infernal flames of the Underworld school, and announces that she's won the C-O-M-P-E-T-I-T-I-O-N (Zak: "Completion?"). My god, that child is P-A-I-N-F-U-L-L-Y I-R-R-I-T-A-T-I-N-G.

And, over at the bar, Debbie is once more Masterfully Subtle about her complete lack of emotion regarding the Necklace Debacle. OH NO WAIT SHE'S NOT.