"We used to know her as Lesbo Leslie" Tom said Toni.

Tom giggled and Toni lay across the sofa thinking about how funny it would be to be a seven year old lesbian. It was a part of life and little Leslie knew nothing different. Sometimes the old religious people were a little stand offish, but most people didn't care. Leslie was just glad that those old homophobes were dying out. Harsh, but true. Tom was the only one who would vocalise it.

Meanwhile Paul O'Grady was back in Liverpool on a break from filming with the dogs of Battersea. Paul, like Tom and Toni was thinking about gayisms and during his classless thoughts, he cast his mind back to Eurovision 2012. Now our Paul may not be a known ESC centre piece, but he had his loyalty. Every year Paul would sit with the dogs and the upper class bankers to watch the great competition and revel in its former glory. Paul was never one to label people, but gay as he was, he thought that Loreen was HOT.

"Do you reckon they have fiveways?" asked Paul, referring to Loreen, Rona Nishliu and the three Azeribanese, I mean Azerbajer, I mean Ajerzibani presenters.

"Of course," said Christine, "Obama says it's OK and One Direction do it so there's no problem. Also, you're a homosexual, girl!"

Paul thought about it. He was, of course, a homosexual, and Kristina the Finn from 2013 was his idol. He particularly enjoyed the line "I'm your slave and you're my master" from her song 'Marry Me'. It was a popular song. Popular, popular, popular.

Forget the Russians, gay marriage is just fine and dandy.

It's very political this post. Yeah I do it for you..

Toni never had anything to add, but her skills lay elsewhere.

Lenny turned his back to the group. As adorable as he was, he was a grumpy old man and preferred noting more than to bury his nose intot he purple rug that Christine and Toni had bought from Homebase many moons ago.

Tom had a wee, whilst thinking about Isreal and candles at the same time as chewing something that Christine just couldn't put her finger on. just as well really as Toms teeth were sharp.

Toni giggled, finally as she felt euph

Once upon a time, back across the ages, when things were simpler and the ocean was still full of fresh water, the inhabitants of the small village of London, Australia, were wondering what on earth was going on.

The ground was shaking, the kangaroos were hopping like mad and the mountains in the distance seemed to be getting further away...

The villagers watched as the small piece of land they had built their homes on detached itself from the continent and drifted further and further out to sea.

They sailed for many moons across the seven seas until eventually this small village found itself making its way up the Thames estuary in what would one day be England.

Eventually, the village became wedged against a river bank and there the villagers settled, founding the city that would one day become the capital of the United Kingdom.

And that is why, to this day, all Londoners have Australian accents.

It was from this fair city, several years later, that some bright spark had the idea to build a boat. They didn't call it a boat, of course, because boats hadn't been invented yet, but the launch of this first wooden vessel gave birth to the international shipping industry.

As the oceans still contained fresh water, thirst was not a problem. However, as the shipping industry expanded the sailors were faced with a different problem...

As boats were primarily male domains (the women stayed on land to plough the land and found universities), sexual frustration was rife. As tissues had not yet been invented, ship captains were struggling to decide what to do with the mess left after excessive masturbation by the sailors.

Eventually, after a conference of the Captains' Union, a decree was passed that all seamen had to masturbate overboard, allowing their semen to be deposited in the sea. This tradition continues to this very day.

As the years passed, however, the sheer amount of sperm being discarded into the ocean had an unintended consequence.

And that is how the world's seas came (no pun intended) to be salty.

Back on land, a French woman had recently moved with her young son to the city of London, UK (formerly Australia).

Her husband had been lost at sea, many Londoners were away at war and the milkman had been castrated.

The French woman was therefore sexually frustrated and was looking for something to pleasure herself with. Cucumbers were unheard of in those days and a butternut squash was pushing it a bit...

Then she had an epiphany. Her local Avon representative had recently left her a sample of some new hair rollers, made of a mass of absorbent material to help the hair dry.

As she inserted it between her legs, the French woman knew she had made the right choice. However, as soon as it was fully inserted she felt the rumblings. Her monthly cycle had begun.

Unfortunately, she had disposed of her old menstruation rags the previous week during the annual spring clean. She therefore had no option but to leave the hair roller inside her as she hurried off to market.

After buying some new rags, along with the garlic and onions that are an obligatory part of any French woman's shopping list, she made her way home to sort out her lady area.

To her surprise, when she removed the hair roller, the mass of absorbent material had absorbed all of her womanly juices.

"Ooh la la!" she cried, "I must patent this invention tout de suite!"

And that she did, thus giving rise to a sanitary product indispensable to modern women to this day.

She named the invention after her dearest, darling son: Tampon.

THE END.

"When shall we three meet again, in thunder, lightning or in rain?"
"When the chips and wine are done, when the DVDs are won!"
"That shall be somewhere in the sun."
"Where the place?"
"Upon Majorca!"
"There to meet Tochto."
"I come Manchester Airport!"
"Terminal 2 calls!"
"Anon."

- extract from Shakespeare, W. 'Macbeth', Act I Scene I

" I think I do need some more gin actually" Tom mumbled as he staggered in to the kitchen.
"Toni do you want some more vodka?!" He asked. Toni nodded and squatted on to the floor.
"Cancel, cancel canel! I like that pink rio suits you" she slurred nodding at Christine. The gin was flowing and Lenny was snorting for all he was worth. 

Meanwhile, you don't want to know what Beverly was up to. You don't want to know what shes up to. Its not fit for internet consumption. because she;s got all of her clichés mixed up. Beverly flicked the cactus to Heaton Moor as she cast her mind back to the story.

The chackram shot through the air and sped towards Bonnie at a speed that even Tom couldn't fathom. Bonnie was wondering what would happen with the Nanning job, Tochto was in a heated debate and all three iof our trio had forgotten about the chackaram flying towards Bonnie, Xena was not a dribbler but a biter, and ti was thanks to this quality that she realised the killing Bonnie was probably not the way to sexual liberation. The answer was more lively to be rice and peas. and it was with that that she hurtled towards the chakram and caught it in her first just before it lobbed Bonnies head off.

"Coulda been worse" Bonnie giggled. "Coulda been heading towards Beverly;s Clunge"

"It's Bevery Knight to you" Beverly snapped at Bonnie and a confused Xena .

"Oh by the Gods" Xena whispered " Shes the daughter of Zeus and a Dyson!"

Everyone was shocked. So shocked that Beyoncé jammed herself and Tom did not throw his cigarette butt into the alleyway. He lunged at Beverly, at about the same time that Toni checked out her free dating profile. Christine had cancelled hers because she realised the her man was down in Mexico, slash was probably married. Toni frowned and  looked at Christine. Toms phone was screaming at the girls and Toni was perplexed. Tom was fagging himself out, Toni was stood at the sink and Christine as bumpin' and grindin'.

"Oh, how depressing" Christine sighed looking at Xena. Xena shrugged and proceeded to pick Lenny up and chucked him out the back door.

"Oi Lenny, your breath smells like fish!" Xena exclaimed.

"I cant help it, I'm a dog! Lenny Replied. he wore a red bandanna and played a cool piano, in a honkey tonk down in Mexico, where Christine's date was waiting. 

Tom was panting heavily as the music faded out.

"Absolutely nothing!" Xena exclaimed looking at Toni. The guests diverted their stares from the bride to the two women stood in the doorway.

Xena realised she was being a bit loud, but the peach Belini was going to her head. Fast. Toni wasn't feeling the effects quite so much. She was used to the booze, and frankly, she didn't give a damn.
Christine and Tom were in the audience near the alter. Luckily Christine realised that the drink she'd left in the kitchen should not have been left there. She knew Toni would  take it and she cursed herself for making the same mistake over and over. Tom was none the wiser. He thought this performance was part of the flash mob he had secretly hired. After all, Beyoncé was one of his oldest, if not wisest friend. Bonnie was sat in-between Christine and Tom fantasising about some new knickers from Debenhams...the three for two was a wonderful offer in her opinion.

"Do you think my breasts have got smaller?" Toni asked Xena.

"Yeah, a little" Xena replied before passing out drunk on the floor.

"Oh!" Tom exclaimed, "I'm not even drunk!" He looked at Lenny... "You've got fluff on your face"

Lenny giggled

Jay Z squeezed Beyoncé's hand and passed her the salted gin as they tried to come to terms with what was going on at their wedding.  They quickly gave up and decided to copulate on the floor.

However, just as Jay Z was about to enter Beyoncé's bagel hole she cried out, "who's that sat between Christine and Tom... it's bloody Bonnie! She wasn't even invited to the bloody wedding!"

Jay Z sighed, put his schlong away and zipped his trousers up.  As this was going on, Bonnie stumbled over and, blanking Beyoncé, turned to Jay Z and said, "you should really consider cotton underwear, it's much less sweaty... Debenham's have an offer on at the moment, actually."

Beyoncé couldn't believe what she was hearing.  3 pairs of knickers for the price of 2?  Bloody bargain!  She was almost tempted to forgive Bonnie for her earlier misdemeanour but at that point, Xena came round and screamed, "Who's eaten all the fig rolls???"

"It was Bonnie...I need some apricots to get me going!" Toni cried.

With that Xena pulled her shakram out, aimed it an Bonnie and, with a flick of her wrist, it was travelling through the air towards our well-loved Welsh superstar....

TBC...

No matter how hard they tried, Xena would not be woken.

She lay over Toni's lap like a deadweight, snoring, huffing, puffing and occasionally scratching behind her ear as she was lost in her dreamworld-cum-coma.

Tom was still angry that Christine had hidden the salted gin from him.

"What on earth are you talking about? Bonnie gatecrashing a wedding? Toni and Xena playing a huge part in it?" he asked Christine, who had assumed the brace position in the armchair and was quietly sobbing to herself.

"We must wake Xena, we must wake Xena," she moaned.

"But why? I don't understand!" said Tom.

"Thomas, sit back, relax... I will tell you the story," announced Toni.

And it went a little something like this...

It was at that point that Xena began to stir...

TBC

Toni was feeling meloncholy...
"I like melons," she thought, "and I love cauliflower." 
Whilst she was pondering, Tom and Christine were in the kitchen creating one fine mess. Christine had recently seen a notification in the paper that there was to be a baking contest at the local park that weekend, and she had decided that it would be great publicity if Tochto were to win. 
"Stir in the eggs...no, no... fold in the eggs" Christine instructed Tom. Tom was growing more and more impatient, as ever since Boris Johnson had drank all of Tom's toffee gin, Tom had had to put up with being sober.
"stop chewing so loudly!" he snapped at Lenny.
"I can't help it, i'm a dog", Lenny barked. 
Suddenly, there she was, as bringht as day. Xena warrior Princess was stood in the kitchen doorway.
"My goodness" Tom thought aloud... "I'm not even drunk!".

Xena folded her arms, leant against the door frame and smirked. It had been a while since she had seen three such talented people. "They'd make great warriors, like me...and that Lenny, " she thought to herself.  

I think she was about to say something, but before she could hollor out her war cry, Toni crept up beind our fetid hero and jumped on her back, knocking her to the floor. Unfortunatly for Xena, Christine had left her mechano all over the place, and the impact of landing on that was less than comfortable.

"Pass me the gin!" Tom cried. In the panic. Forgetting what Christine had promised herself, she opened the cake tin and pulled out the emergency gin rations. "It's salted but..."

Tom was firslty relieved to be able to tip the bottle back and lose himself in his secret Eurovision world. However, once the tonic had hit his lungs, he felt betrayed that Christine had hidden it from him in the first place.

"Why...?" he started...


"It's a long story", Christine replied, "It all started after Bonnie gatecrashed the wedding...but first, we need to wake Xena up. Her and Toni played a huge part in it all..." 

Toni gulped, fated, belched and giggled. "Oh Tom, you're #hashtag going to love it"

TBC...

Boom-bang-a-crash-boom-bang!

And just like that, Eurovision is over for another year.

Thursday's dinner and gin, that's how it started.  Toni was warbling "bring back my Bonnie to me".  Tom was shaking it like a polaroid picture.  Christine was in a state of sheer euphoria.  All three were flying the flag.  To Stockport and back.

"How the f*** did we spend £90 in Morrison's???"

The answer was on a postcard.  A postcard that never arrived.

Flags, bunting, skull caps and wigs - that's what Saturdays are made of.

"Bluhdy 'ell!" thought Lenjamin Button, the Yorkshire-nese Yorkshire Terrier, "what on urth ah these bluhdy crahzy peepul up to nah?!"  I have a squeaky duck for him sat beside my stereo.  Remind me.

Jedward and a quarter of ABBA opened the door to the (previously unknown) third Jedward twin.  Triplet?!  Quick, phone 'the Sun'!  Also on the agenda was Bonnie Tyler, the dentist herself!  And two more quarters of ABBA (the fourth member eluded them... never mind, they can have one of the Jedward triplets).  Also a German in his lederhosen, who came carrying hot dogs with... wait for it... Sarah Brightman.  And plenty of plain-clothed police officers.

The surprise they had all been waiting for.*

Will Cheadle Hulme Precinct really be the venue for Eurovision 2015?  Probably.

Voting... on both sides of the screen, though Europe is apparently much more political than South Manchester.  Additionally, furthermore and moreover, we agreed for the first time... Denmark!

Cue rapturous applause, another gin, a scratch behind the ears and a bizarre concoction of potato, cream cheese, Irish cream and grated cheddar.  Bake at Gas Mark 5 for 20 minutes and Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt, and Bonnie's your 19th-place Eurovision entrant.

Chitter chatter, chitter chatter.  We are fervently PRO gay marriage on this side of the street.  Potato skins... yum!  I refuse to write "nom" because it is quite frankly an awful word.  Additionally, furthermore and moreover, it's not even a word.

Taxi, bed, sleep, hangover, and we'll end where we began.

No, not in Ajerziban!  Ajerzi-where?!  Ajerziban!

We'll end where we began.

Boom-bang-a-crash-boom-bang!



*The surprise.  We are in a band.  We never said we could sing.  What the hey?!  YOLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is a reason for this equestrian entry. That reson being in that Bonnie got back. Sipping her juiceand gin, she kicked back in to the bull bar of Toni's white rusting Land Rover. "Umphh" Toni moaned, " This is my prized posession you silly cow!" Bonnie looked Toni in the eye and said "Say what you want about the Spice Girls, but they did have some good songs".Toni couldn't argue with that. Toni had been busy preparingwith Tochto. Whoopsies, I mean Tochto Le, for Eurovision 2014. "My orificies are expelling Dani Internationals postal stamps" Toni said to Bonnie. Well, Bonnie was perplexed. "Toni, I'm representing The UK this year in Eurovision!". Toni grabbed Bonnie, threw her onto the roof rack and sped back to Stockport to tell Tom and Christine the news.

Obviously, Tom already knew and felt insulted that Toni had thought he may not. Christine did not know but after Toni and Tom had sang a few renditions of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart', Christine was well informed. "Hes being a little horror", Tom said pointing at Lenny. "My filling fell out" Lenny moaned, and that was that.

A little known fact is that Bonnie Tyler is also a qualified dentist.  After sorting Lenny's filling out, polishing Tom's coffee stains, extracting Christine's wisdom teeth and making a mould of Toni's jaw, she lit a cigar and lay out in front of the fire.  Now was the time to reveal her secret to Tochto.

"This isn't the first time I've heard of you guys," she purred, in her bonny Welsh accent. "In fact, my Eurovision entry, 'Believe in me',is written about you guys... about getting the country to believe in you next year... I'm merely filling the gap in between Engelbert's egotistical environmental endoscopic elementary eventual entry and Tochto's 2014 victory."

Toni smiled.  "Bonnie Tyler, 12 points," she said.

Back at the home hub, Toni and Tom had just about finished covering Christine's entire bedroom with photographs of the trio in Speedos, bikinis and surfer shorts from their various holidays over the years; there was a particularly fetching one that served as the centrepiece of the collage in which the trio were wearing their leopard-print mankinis and bending over a plastic table chewing on halloumi.
"And that is that," breathed Toni as she slapped the last bit of paste onto the wall, "a collage fit for a foreign ambas... I mean a princess!"
"What? You were going to say foreign ambassador?!" interjected Tom, "Toni, why exactly has Christine been in Europe?"
"Well, it was supposed to be a secret, but the fumes from this paste have got me high, and I feel I should share," said Toni.  "Christine hasn't been on a leisure holiday... she's been on a business trip to organise the European branch of the political wing of Tochto in order to get us some well-deserved votes from the Eastern bloc in Eurovision 2014!"
"Well that's tickety-boo!" sang Tom into an inflatable microphone he found under Christine's bed, "but why on earth did you want to keep it a secret?"
"Well," sighed Toni, "her methods are somewhat... unconventional..."

Christine leant back, scratched herself and then scratched Boris Johnson behind the ears.
If Gail Platt the customs official had caught her, the whole European trip would have been in vain.  Gail and Christine had a history, but the less said about that the better.  Luckily, she had manage to drag Boris, her lemons and her suitcases into a taxi and she was well on her way back to the home hub.
Boris was gently squeezing her lemons and she was feeling thoroughly satisfied. What a successful trip! The president of Albania had been... well... suitably impressed, and she was sure she had secured enough votes for an eventual Eurovision victory.  Who said the contest wasn't about politics?
As the taxi pulled up outside the house she looked forward to filling Tom and Toni in on her European adventure, but that sense of impending excitement quickly turned into a feeling of bemusement and horror when she saw that an ageing transvestite wearing a spandex jumpsuit and a cheap wig appeared to be standing guard at the front door...