Written by matwil

Wednesday, 20 January 2010

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'Morning, Holmes', the famous detective Sherlock Holmes said to Sherlock Holmes in the breakfast room of 243d Baker Street, London, 'any original ideas in the newspapers this morning?'

'Certainly not', that sleuth replied, 'it's almost embarrassing that the papers are full of such unoriginal adolescent garbage as this! Take a look', and Holmes passed his copy of The Copier to Holmes who began to read about 'Katie Price Marries Her Own Liver With Rush Limpbum Leering At Her Plastic Chest Tee Hee Hee' headline.

'This is news?' 'Not only is it not news, it's not even worth reading beyond the headline. And yet I deduce that there is more than meets the eye to this drivelling and childish crap filling up the news every day.' 'Me too. Sir, let us now take an omnibus across this great city to speak to Katie Price him - I mean herself.'

'Precisely, Holmes, as always we know best', and soon the two sleuths were on the number 37 red London bus heading towards East Southam. 'What a pleasant day, is it not?. Holmes said, noticing lots of girls sunbathing in Hyde Park, all of them topless. 'There is a certain modicum of truth in your deduction', replied the other detective, before putting away his pocket telescope, 'ah, here is our stop', and so it was.

Walking along Adolescent Dirge Avenue and into Can't Write Crescent the pair then went down the Unoriginal Tripeway before crossing into the Feeble Half Inches. 'Which number does Miss Price live in?', Holmes asked Holmes, and 'Really, use your powers of observation, sir!', was the reply and soon they were knock, knock, knocking on Katie's door, which was opened by a young woman with two beach balls glued to her chest.

'Yes?', she said, while using a bicycle tyre pump to pump more air into her beach balls, 'what do you want?' 'We are the two Sherlock Holmeses' was the reply, 'come to verily ascertain whether the news is filled to the brim with 10-year old babyish obsessions such as the size of your beach balls to merely get deluded advertisers such as the WomenShouldNotBeSeenAndNotHeard dating site to waste their shekels on it. Or not.'

'You'd bettah come in', Miss Priceiswrong said, and soon the sleuths were in her living room sipping cups of hallucogenic drugs laced with morphine and amphetamine sulphate. 'Rather adult, these references to drugs', Holmes remarked, and 'Don't worry, the children that censor everything in a 'spoof' website will soon refuse to print that', Miss Pryce pointed out, and 'Elementary' and 'What is the point of such a place then?' were the logical next points to be made.

'To get lots of children to think they're being 'naughty' by writing about parts of the human body', she said, while adding a few tabs of acid to her visitors cups, 'the worldwide thingy is being turned into a childish joke by people censoring it. The whole point of the web was to be an uncensored adult information highway, and now look at it! It's sad, innit?'

'Ah well', Sherlock Holmes replied, 'I suppose it's all part of the human condition. People with no real purpose in this world turn to making up rules to make themselves seem important - to themselves, while people with a purpose just get on and do what they want and ignore them.' 'But doesn't that mean there is no real - er, purpose for people what edits and censors what people write and stuff'?, Katie said, while pumping more air into her beach balls.

'Precisely, young lady. Our work is done here, so we shall now go and drink a pint of gin apiece and listen to The Bores on our gramophone players before getting arrested for being sleuths under the influence of daring to invent our own parodies and spoofs, a crime that may lead to our being unsuitable for publication in a children's website.' 'Sad', she said, 'next fing there'll be a Katie Price-toenail size-American nobody-puerile-body part fixated site that will become an embarrassment to even visit.'

'Too late, miss', Holmes said, 'it already exists', and the sleuths left the room and went out into Please Don't Lampoon Us Mommy Drivebyshooting and the 'story' had nearly ended. 'You know, Holmes', Holmes said to Holmes, 'I wonder if the papers will ever have an original adult story again? It seems an impossibility, I know.'

'I doubt it', Holmes replied, 'but at least whichever advertiser next wastes their time advertising in those papers can be an easy target for us to harry, to harass, to vilify and to -' and the pair were promptly abducted by a UFO and sent back in time to when TheProof.chest was once a vibrant adult website full of adult satire and lampoons.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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