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"Oh come on. You can't tell me you liked that movie. It was full of inconsistencies. I mean..." Dean cut off his friend before he made it any worse. "Don't jinx it, Tim. Don't you dare mention them." "Mention what? The plot-holes?" Ben facepalmed and Dean rolled his eyes. Together they walked down the sidewalk and Dean took it up to enlighten Tim. "It's easy. It's reverse attraction. The more you mention them the less likely you notice one in front of you. It's just common sense to ... wahhh" "Dean? Where are you?" Tim shouted out as he found himself suddenly alone with Ben. "Great Tim," Ben remarked with a sigh. "You had to mention them and now Dean fell into one." Ben gave him a stern look and then started to walk on. Quickly Tim caught up. "That's funny. You really think plot-holes are true? Come on. Cut the crap. We aren't in a movie or book." "Really? How would you know?" Ben retorted. Before Tim could answer both heard a squeal and the sound of high heels coming closer. "Oh my gosh, guys I found you." "Miss. I don't think we know -" Tim started. "It's me! Dean," the girl urged. "No way. How?" Tim challenged her. "Because of plot-hole. Duh!" Tim looked at Ben for help but found his friend ogling the womanly Dean. "Oh yeah, that will do. Time to pay your due Diana," Ben remarked with a smirk. "Diana?" Dean asked. "Remember last summer?" Ben continued. "I lent you five hundred bucks under the condition that if you ever turn into a hot chick that I: A. Can name you and B. get a blowjob." "Oh my! You are right," Diana remarked. "Let's go." Ben let his arm fall on Diana's shoulder and both started to walk off. "Dean? You are okay with that!?" Tim was flabbergasted. "Yes, I am. And it's Diana. Seriously go with the plot." "Seriously? Why?" Tim wanted to know. Ben and Diana turned around for a moment. "Plot-hole!!" they both yelled. "Excuse me mister?" an older male voice spoke up. Tim turned around. Before him stood a construction worker. "Yes?" "I am looking for the hole. 'Am here to fix it." Tim sighed. "I swear if you say you want to fix the plot-hole then I'll ... You know what. Forget it. I think it was further up the street." "Really? My directions say it is downward," the worker said. Scratching his beard. Tim looked around and saw nothing. "I don't see any hole down the street. There is noth..ahhhh..." "Ah found it!" the construction worker shouted. "I knew it was downwards in the plot." To his left, the shrubbery started to shake and a moment later a teenage girl in shredded clothes appeared. "What the hell?" she cursed. "Why am I a girl now?" "I take it you were the boy who just fell down the hole?" the worker inquired. "I-" The girl started but broke off. "Okay, I believe it now. This is not a prank. Plot-holes are real." "Calm down Miss," the worker urged her. "Look. My name is Arthur. Maybe I can help. What is your name?" "Tim," the girl replied. "Uhh. I wouldn't do that if I were you," Arthur remarked. "Do what?" Tim snapped. "A boys name for a girl. That's plot-hole bait." "Fine!" the girl relented. "Call me Tammy for now. Say. Why the hell genderbends the plot-holes us?" "That's probably due to the writer. Let me check," Arthur said pulled a clipboard out. "Ah yes. Cassy Bee. That explains a lot. Amateur TG writer." "Wait," Tammy said and held her hand up. "Let me think. So these bending of our genders are meant to happen?" "Probably," Arthur said with a shrug. "Although I suspect another means of bending your gender was planned." "I better hope so," Tammy remarked. "Using plot-holes as a means to bending genders has to be the worst plot device ever." "Unless-" Arthur mused out loud. "Unless what?" Tammy snapped. "Unless the story is written on-" Arthur looked on his clipboard again. "Knew it. Sorry, kiddo. Looks like your story is part of an April's fool joke. Written on April the first." "Damn!" Tammy cursed. "How bad is it really?" "Very. Cassy Bee is an amateur. Not the best track record of finished stories either," Arthur remarked. "Unless she picks up the story again next year for April fools I think we are done." "No. Can't be," Tammy denied it. "You can't tell me the story will just end suddenly and without reason."

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Mary Pilson knew that her ‘uncle’ Walter was grooming her. ‘Uncle’ was a silly term that Mary’s mother used to describe the men who moved into their home to take advantage. Mary had no time for her uncles; she saw them for what they were, parasites and users. Mary’s mother could hardly make ends meet working as an usherette at the local cinema. Her good looks, curvy body and long legs ensured that she was well tipped by the male customers but she also attracted the sharks. Mary mostly...

The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriess8e18 Sylvia Distin 55 from Chelmsford

We’re cruising along a wide and quiet suburban street. Green lawns stretch back from the pavement to the nice semi-detached homes. There’s a slim woman walking a large dog along the side of the road, and we pan around to look at her as we pass – it’s no-one we know, but we kind of wish we did! Then we’re looking forward again – seeing an intersection infront of us ... Then pulling up, looking out of the side window right at a single story, flat-roofed building. A sign outside reads,...

The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriess6e21 The Portsmouth Womens Institute

Series 6, Episode 20 The Portsmouth Women’s Institute (ages 50-60), from Portsmouth We open with a very simple and idyllic establishing shot of the front of an unobtrusive building with a little square of grass around it. A sign reads, “PORTSMOUTH WOMEN’S INSTITUTE” A small car park is half filled with sensible middle-class cars a Volvo, an Audi, a nice VW, etc. Trees rustle as the wind blows through them. Very safe violin music plays on the soundtrack and then The needle on the record...

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