The following emails about The Dorking Review, that much revered literary extravaganza, were received at the offices of Martin Shuttlecock, PR guru, media mogul, and aspiring train driver. It isn't really an office at all. It's just his front room.
It isn't a proper book. You stapled sheets that you'd printed off your computer, onto the cover of a proper book. To make it look like you're a proper writer. That's just wrong. You're nothing but a chain smoking beer swilling fraud. And I think you're shit.
What can you do? I dunno. I bashed the fucking book on the table. It's a proper book. Get over it.
Not only are you a talentless fuckwit, but your also an ugly kunt wiv acne, a baldy head, and you hide behind a stupid cartoon disgise wot you got from the pound shop. This is coz you are a coward, who is afraid to show his ugly mug because your ashamed of the crap shite wot you foisted on the publik.
How can you say that? You don't even know me. Let's get it right mate - I'm all of these things, and more. Or less...
I bought the book after inadvertently stumbling across Martin Shuttlecock's inane YouTube ramblings, and must admit, that it was a serendipitous delight. It's a really good and comical read, from a group of fine humourists - except Shuttlecock. The bits he put in there were shit. I can't believe they asked this moron to be a part of it.
They didn't. I paid them. Cost me four grand that did. Bastards...
God, yore ugly. And you cant even talk right. Yore just a waist of space. Get off my computer you jerk! You look like a potato headed freak, and you talk like I wuld imagine a toad woud. If it coud talk. Aaaagh! Yore shit! An I won't B byin the buk ither. I carnt be arsed wiv readin. U fat kunt.
Cheers mate! Bad publicity is better than no publicity at all. I'll drink to that!
I enjoyed your YouTube clips. You're a natural. I see a great future for you - collecting shopping trolleys in Tesco's car park.
I'd probably earn more doing that, than I do now. Cheers mate!
Do ju speak Spanish? I could use a good interpreter. I pay three pound an hour.
No hablo Espanol muy bien. Lo siento. Hasta Madrid!
The book was great. Other than your bits of it. And I really enjoyed Jean La Fete's YouTube video, which is more than I can say for yours. You're not funny, your ugly mug hurts my eyeballs. You seem like a right wanker, and if I had my way I'd have you shot. You daft bastard.
That's you isn't it? That's the wife! Bloody hell, woman! How many internet aliases do you have?
Don't try playing stupid games with me Shuttlecock/Skoob1999 or whatever your bloody name is. I know exactly what youre up to. You bloody Judas! When's number five coming out? Do we get to see the woman that you paid to do the background voice? Not that I'm interested. I could care less what you do. As far as I'm concerned, you don't exist. You won't be hearing from me again. I have better things to do than waste my time droning on about you and that bloody book. I think I love you...
You ARE the wife aren't you! God, woman, the wife, the Mrs...you really know how to get me at it!
When IS episode 5 coming out? Not that I'll watch it. To be honest, I'd rather watch 'Loose Women' on an eternal loop.
I only ever intended to do the one Neville. I suppose I got a bit carried away with meself. Me napper got a bit too big for me pork pie hat, I'm afraid. It came to a head when somebody recognised me up the shops. It turned out to be an old friend of my son's. I won't be doing any more. They give me delusions of grandeur. The best I can hope for is a clip of me falling down some concrete stairs, pissed as a fart on You've Been Framed.
No more emails please. They just clog up me in box.