All purpose soap storyline

[parkerman]

With talk of crossovers in the air, I think it's time for a comeback myself....

"“This way, Prisoner Branning,” said the prison guard, “your cell is down the corridor here.”

“Good,” said Ronnie Branning (for, of course, it was she), “I deserve this. I hope you lock the door and throw away the key. I should be punished for ever for what I did. I don’t want you to let me out, even when my sentence comes to an end. I don’t deserve to be let out. Ever. Have you got that? Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes, Prisoner Branning, whatever you say.”

“No I mean it. I did a terrible thing and I deserve to be punished. Just don’t let me out. OK?”

“Just a little further, Prisoner Branning. Your cell is at the end. You will be sharing it with a woman brought in for murder.”

“Good. I want to be in with a murderer. Perhaps she’ll murder me. I deserve it. I never want to leave here. I am really evil. I deserve to be locked up for ever. Do you hear me?”

They finally reach the cell and the prison guard opens the door. Inside is a red haired woman staring wildly into space. The guard shoves Ronnie in and shuts the door behind her.

“Hello, I’m Ronnie. I deserve to be here. I’m a terrible woman. They should never let me out.”

The red haired woman stared at her for a while and finally said, “My name is Fiz. I didn’t do it. My baby. John. It’s all wrong. Hope. Chesney. I can’t face it. I loved him. My daughter. I need her. I’ll never see her again. John. Hope. My baby. I can’t do it. In care. Adopted. John. Hope. I shouldn’t be here. She needs me. I’m innocent. Hope….” And so on for the next four or five hours.

Ronnie started banging on the door, “Let me out,” she yelled, “I’ve been punished enough. Please let me go home.”

[parkerman]

BBC's Christmas Eastenders Special.

Christmas morning dawned deep and crisp and even for the denizens of Albert Square. “Oh no,” sighed Ian, “it’s Christmas and we all know what Christmases are like round here. I’ve seen enough of them to know that today is not going to end well. 27 to be precise and not one of them has brought good cheer. Mostly they’ve been explosive and rocked the Square. I think I’ll stay in bed all day today.” “Good idea,” put in Mandy quickly.

Meanwhile over at the Tardis – sorry, I mean Pat’s house – all the children were excitedly getting ready for the big day. Tiff was up early sorting through the presents under the tree, while Liam was pretending to be grown up and not caring, but every now and then surreptitiously opening a present as well.

Pat herself was very excited because her two boys were coming back home for Christmas dinner and to stay the night in two more rooms that had appeared overnight. Simon was flying in from the other side of the world, while David had managed to get leave of absence from his very important job as head of A&E at Holby General. “He’s done so well for himself,” thought Pat proudly, “but I wonder how he’ll get on with his daughter, knowing she’s just come out of prison.”

Pat snapped out of her daydreaming as Carol came down the stairs. “Let’s get this dinner on then,” she said. “All right! All right!” exclaimed Pat, “We’ve got plenty of time. I haven’t decided which earrings to wear yet. The big dangly gold ones or the even bigger big dangly silver ones.”

Over at Phil’s, everyone was awake. “Christmas, humbug,” said Phil. “Oh, Mr Mitchell, don’t be like that, it’s a lovely time of year,” said Heather. “You dozy mare,” yelled her best friend Shirley from upstairs. “Yes, but think of George. It’s magic for children,” replied Heather. “I’m sorry you ever came back from the B&B,” added Phil. “Well, if that’s how you feel, Mr Mitchell, I’m leaving again.” “Shut the door behind you,” said Phil reaching for his can of coke (spelt with a small ‘c’ if you know what I mean).

Later in the day, Pat heard a knock at her door. “That could be Simon or David,” she said excitedly. But her disappointment was obvious as she opened the door and saw Heather standing there. “What do you want?” asked Pat. “Can I come in?” replied Heather, “I’ve left Phil’s and I’ve got nowhere to stay and I know your house is big enough to take me and George in.”

After dinner, Pat, her family and about ten or eleven lodgers sat round the television to watch the special edition of Downton Abbey. “Do you remember that time we all sat round to watch that soap episode when Den handed Angie her divorce papers?” said Carol. “What are you talking about?” asked Pat, looking at Carol as though she’d taken leave of her senses, “that wasn’t a soap episode, that was real. I was there.” “Oh, yes, I forgot,” put in Carol, “it was before my time but you’ve been in Albert Square a long time haven’t you? Second only to Ian Beale.” “Yes, that’s right,” confirmed Pat.

Outside in the street there was a strangulated cry, “aaaarrrrggghhhhh!!!!!” and suddenly a bomb came sailing through the window which exploded in Pat’s living room, blowing up everyone and everything around it. When the dust settled it was found that poor Pat and Heather hadn't made it.

Later at the trial, the judge asked the guilty defendant if he had anything further to say before he passed sentence. “This,” he said, “was a particularly heinous crime. Throwing a bomb through the deceased’s window was an explosive act that rocked the whole Square, but it is only fair I give you one last chance to explain yourself as you have remained silent throughout the trial. In fact I have been wondering if you can talk at all.”

“Oh, yes, I can talk when I want to,” said the defendant bitterly, “but no-one lets me. I don’t mind too much but it was the final straw when I overheard Pat Evans saying she was second only to Ian Beale in time spent on the Square when I have that honour. No-one gives me credit for anything. You have no idea how frustrating it can get. I just want people to recognise me.”

“Winston,” intoned the judge gravely, “I can understand how you feel, but blowing people up is not the answer. I therefore sentence you to a further 30 years in Eastenders without speaking. Take him away.”

[alan45]

Stella as seen by Fat Brenda over on Corrieblog

“If you’ve got a problem with a lass or fella,

Pop in’t back and talk to Stella”

And so say all of us! Stella's helped everyone round these parts. She’s been raising money for them starving kiddies in hot countries an’ that by embarking on a ‘Therapathon’ - where folk sponsor her for therapeutic sessions in the back room of the Rovers - or "Stella's Surgery" as she calls it - so she can give ‘em advice on a number of issues ranging from problems with their marriage to the best way to boil an egg using nowt but a flask of tepid water and a lace hankie. I've even heard rumour she’s going to singlehandedly look for Gail McIntyre’s dad who’s been missing presumed Ted!

The only folk round here who don’t seem to be impressed with Stella’s superhuman ability to understand the inner thoughts and insecurities of us lesser mortals are Peter and Carla! She's onto 'em! I’m not flamin’ surprised though, it’s only a matter of time before their secret is out. I’ve been getting taxis for the pair of ‘em to fandangle with one another for weeks now and I reckon it’s gonna end in tears – Simon’s probably, poor lad. Still, at least if it's all out in't open they won't have to meet in a back passage.

After finding a cancer cure and developing a non-genetically modified way of growing hairy vegetables that will feed the world’s hungry while providing them with warm clothes, Stella is probably gonna buy the Rovers if she can find the money… after she’s run a marathon in aid of blind hamsters and troubled stoats… AND after she’s raised awareness for men’s baldness by shaving her own hair off and re-growing it using the patent hair follicle repairing lotion she created using the distilled tears of joy from orphans she has helped to find homes…

Actually, now I come to think about it, Dev in’t too happy with Stella either. It’s not been going well for the Alahans of late . Sunita has been very down and confided in Stella (well why not? It’s not like she’s a virtual stranger) about her worries. Stella isn’t the only casual acquaintance Sunita has been papping on to about her problems, she’s been telling me about Dev’s inability to satisfy her appetite! Apparently he never cooks enough food to go round and prioritises Aadi and himself over the two lasses (or three when Amber’s round their house for a meal) - sexist!

[Katy]

Hahaha brilliant!! Love fat brenda!!

[alan45]

Hahaha brilliant!! Love fat brenda!!

Yes she has STELLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH summed up really well

[parkerman]

A cool grey dawn broke over the streets of Weatherfield. In the dairy, there was something of a crisis as the milkman for Coronation Street and surrounding areas had just phoned in sick. “What can we do?” asked the manager. “It’s obvious, isn’t it” replied his secretary, “We’ll have to call in St Ella to deliver the milk this morning.” “Of course,” said the manager, “I’ll phone her now.”

Later that morning as St Ella was on her milk round, she received a phone call on her mobile from the sorting office, “One of our postmen hasn’t turned up for work, is there any chance you can deliver the mail in Coronation Street this morning?” “St Ella though for a second and then said, “Of course, but first I have to help Norris deliver the newspapers as one of the delivery boys hasn’t turned up for work.”

While St Ella was out of the house, Karl gave Sunita a quick ring to tell her that St Ella would be out most of the morning if she fancied having her bum groped yet again. Getting out of bed, Sunita said to Dev, “I’ve just remembered, I’ve arranged to have breakfast with an old friend over in Chorlton-Cum-Hardy this morning.” “So why didn’t you tell me this before, Babe?” asked Dev….

Back out on her post round, St Ella came across Simon sitting out on the doorstep of Ken and Deirdre’s house. “What’s the matter?” she asked. Simon explained that he didn’t want to go home to Carla and that he wanted to stay at his grandad’s house. St Ella knocked on the door and took Simon inside. “Wait there,” she said, “I have an idea. She then went and got Peter and Carla and Leanne round and sat them all down and addressed them all for a few minutes. At the end of her wise counselling, all of them agreed to be the best of friends and the situation was completely resolved.

Going back to the Rover’s Return she spotted Tina and Tommy having a row in the street, so she again took it upon herself to counsel them and within minutes they were back together again and agreeing to get married as soon as possible.

She then saw Tyrone being physically thrown out of his house by Kirsty. “Time for a word,” she thought. So going over to Tyrone and Kirsty she ushered them inside. By the time she came out, Kirsty had agreed to seek help and go on an anger management course. Which St Ella was running at the Community Centre every Thursday afternoon.

She then went back to the pub to clear up from last night, clean up, get all the stock out ready for the day, polish the bar, make breakfast, fix the broken juke box, get the accounts ready for the visit that day of the Tax Man and nip off to the bank to bank the previous day’s takings.

On her way to the bank, she saw Kevin and Sally, so she went and had a word with them and they saw at once how silly they were being. St Ella then went off to organise the church for their wedding, phoned the caterers and made a couple of bridesmaids dresses.

It was still only 11:00 in the morning….

[alan45]

Following her Gourmet 14 course Luncheon in the Rovers which featured some locally sourced ingredients such as Weatherfield free range venison and red snapper fresh from the Canal the Blessed St.Ella sat down to await her daily conference call with Barack Obama. She was advising him on his current fiscal policy and his decision to move the US Pacific fleet. "Many congratulations on your Jubilee St. Ella it was wonderful!" " Thank you Barry" said her holiness " It was not special guv, the old Baked Bean was as appy as a pig in **** wiv ow it went an so was the bubble and squeak before e went into The orspital. Anyways ducks I've gotta speak wiv the Kofi Annan guy to see wot we are gonna do bout situation in Syria."

Down in t'cellar Sunita was practising her horizontal jogging for the Olympics. Karl was practising for the Breast stroke as well as the pole vault.

Later that afternoon in a scene reminiscent of one of the Rev Syung Moon's weddings Archbishop St.Ella performed the marriage ceremony for Kevin and Sally , Maria and a random man, Steve and Eileen, Michelle and her ego, tommy and Tina as well as Kirsty and Tie Moan. The back room of the Rovers was almost full. Following her papal blessing everyone returned to the Rovers where a fatted calf was butchered and served along with five fishes and 3 loaves. What a busy hours work she had done and it was just turned four o'clock. Time for Deal or No Deal

[parkerman]

But first she had to catch the plane to Kabul where a meeting had been arranged between President Karzai and the Taliban. After brokering a lasting peace it was back to the United Nations Security Council where she solved the Middle East crisis, the Palestinian question, Greek debt, saved the Euro, had a quick word with Robert Mugabe and brought peace to the warring factions in Syria.

Back home in time for supper at the Rover's she noticed that Karl was nowhere to be seen. "Has anyone seen Karl?" she asked the crowded pub.

Dev was the first to reply. "You might be able to solve all the world's crises, St Ella," he said, "but your bum isn't as nice as my Sunita's. Your precious Karl has stolen my wife." "Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that, Dev, I'll have a word with him and put him right, then we can all live happily ever after..."

Suddenly the door was thrown open and a stranger walked in. "Live happily ever after," the stranger mocked, "live happily ever after? You just wait till I tell them your secret, Cindy Beale! They think I've had a nervous breakdown in Albert Square, but when I saw you on tele with that fake accent, I knew who you were right away and decided to come up her to confront you. Did you think you could fool your former husband? I wasn't taken in by your Lancashire chatter." "Nor were we," muttered everybody else.

Leaping over the bar, St Ella (or Cindy) made straight for the arms of Phil Collinson, who soothed her fevered brow and said, "There there, Michelle, let's go on a shopping trip to New York...By the way, how's your West Country accent? I'm hoping to land the job as producer of Casualty...?"

[alan45]

On arrival at JFK St. Ella or plain Michelle Colins as she now was was wisked off by Helicopter to the UN where she was announced as the new Secretary general. She anounced that she had secured peace in the middle east and was looking forward to visiting the Camp David for tea. A spokesman for Mr Walliams said ''The computer says no!!!' Undeterred Ms Collins flew down to Cape Canaveral where she was due to pilot the supply ship to the International Space Station. Unbeknowns to her a group of diehard Corrie fans had sabotaged the supply ship and reprgrammed its inertial flight system. She would be going on a one way trip to the distant galaxy that was El Dorado.

Meanwhile back on T'Cobbles normality had returned. Fool Collinson was away ruining Holby Casualty. As the new glamourous consultant he had taken Kate Ford and as the Psycho nurse he had taken mad Mary.

This left a vacancy for a new owner for the Rovers or would an old face return. You Decide!!!!

[Glen1]

Congrats Guys, well written. very witty and very funny. Good laugh, just what the doctor ordered.