Deal Or No Doom!

Am I hallucinating? Is this fever induced dementia? Madness caused by illness? I'm off work sick and the only thing I can deal (snigger) with is afternoon TV. Deal Or No Deal is on channel 4 and it's been overrun by monsters and the undead! It looks like the cast of Thriller, but more evil and less funky. Noel Edmonds is Lucifer, resplendent in horns, a died black goatee and a solitary Mr T-esque earring. This means he looks even more sinister than usual. The contestants are all bloodied up, bedraggled zombies, one with a tire track mark accross his face. The whooping, squealing undead player is called Gaynor. She looks not unlike the victim of sex crime.

Before opening her box, Andrea, a zombie with one silver glove, forlornly utters "This is the hardest thing I've ever done." (Probably due to the loss of motor skills following rapid necrosis). £250,000 was in her spider covered box. It's accompanied by the groan of the asembled ghoul throng and an 80's sound effect of a banshee wailing.

The mysterious Banker (dressed as a violent spiv, I imagine) calls and says there's a spooky new choice for Gaynor to make. Choose the coffin or the gravestone. One is a trick, one is a treat. She picks the treat which cues Thriller to be played but sadly no expected dancing. The treat is a holiday to Madrid, a favourite destination of those who feast on human brains I'm sure you'll agree. I wonder what the trick was. A harsh reach around from Edmonds, perhaps?

50p, £10 and £100,000 remain. Tony with his bandaged head reveals the £100K. Gaynor laughs, her brain little more than a box of sloshing goo now. At least she got that holiday. She could infect the conquistadors. Unlike them, she wouldn't require Small Pox doused blankets.

This macabre twist on the show isn't even mentioned on Teletext. I feel dirty and diabolical. I hope this fiendish experience was real.

A Selection of Ghouls Part Deux

Geoffenstein's Monstrodude, Tutenbandage and Fernando Watermann

A Selection of Ghouls

Mary the Shambling Fleshmuncher, Francesco Raul de Rais, and Phillip Von Howlbeast

Bald Guyz Refreshing Head Wipes

Ladies and gentlemen, get a load of this in your ears (eyes). There I was in Boots the Chemist buying matte texture shaping putty gel or anti suicide pills or nail scissors, and BOOM Bald Guyz Refreshing Head Wipes sexes my world up.

Yes. It's a sanitary product for slapheads.

If I'm unfortunate to live long enough to experience my own chrome dome (currently my mane is as full and luxurious as a swarthy fighter pilot breakdancing lion) I can at least enjoy these fine science facts:

• Light New Fragrance!
• Cleans & Moisturises
• Cools as it Dries
• Soft & Gentle

Brilliantly, the whole spectrum of man is represented - both happy, brace wearing baldies and dour, serious businessmen. I don't know why they exclude bald women. Could market them as Bald Girlz. Maybe Bald Grrllz. No, that one's too shit.

Fiendish Feet!

Remember Fiendish Feet? They were only the best, most toe curlingly terrifying novelty comedy horror yoghurts man has ever known. They had beastly feet and monstrous spook faces and almost *certainly gave children rabies or sex dementia. *This is definitely not correct.

Clearly the eeriest of snacks, they kick the shit out of Munch Bunch, especially Corky Coconut.

Banana flavour Howling Wolf was the daddy, mostly because of his 80's shades. They faithfully represented almost the entire pantheon of ghouls, from Vampire to Mummy to Evil Scientist (even a special Easter themed bunny that looked twisted on crack) but they never had a dedicated zombie or rapist character. Do-gooding sell out bastards.

So where are they now? Probably bought up wholesale by shadowy government types to be fed exclusively to lunatics and satanists.

Celebrity Zombie Apocalypse!

“Stop it, zombie Mozart!” screamed Mr T in vein as he tried to stop MacGuyver having his face chewed off by an undead postman.

“Oh no! It’s zombie Gary Glitter and he’s headed straight for that primary school! Possibly.” Uttered Professor Richard Dawkins with incredulity, due to Glitter perhaps being religious.

“Suck on these slick shoes, you filthy ravenous beasts!” was the proud call of Data from The Goonies. He saw Sloth eat his own mother that morning and that ruined his chances of going steady with the ginger one from Girls Aloud.

All Simon Cowell’s reanimated corpse could gurgle was “Atrocious”. This really got to Rolf Harris. His wobble board was doing fuck all against the zombie hordes but he could paint up the lady cadavers real pretty. This fired up Emilio Estevez and the cast of Lost Boys so much that they decapitated The Kooks. They weren’t even zombies, just twats.

Somewhere dark, and cock snappingly evil something terrible happened. Zombie Jessica Fletcher had turned Indiana Jones, Mad Max and David Attenborough within the hour. Now Nazis, British criminals and exotic rare animals the world over were rising from the grave, hungry for camel toes and the flesh of the living!

Hooked on this thrilling suspense filled world class tale of terror? Rich executive Hollywood types get in touch now for more. Adventures will be considered in lieu of cash payment.