The original band of four loyal contestants can't quite believe they've aged ten years since innocently agreeing to take part in an online quiz that does absolutely nothing to contribute to world peace, famine reduction, saving whales or the pursuit of knowledge.

Over the years the number of contestants has increased in leaps and bounds from the first four trailblazers to a mind-boggling eight, all of whom regret the decision to take part every day of their bloody lives.

So relive those heady days of yesteryear in 2005 and 2006 when Jonathan Ross would do anything for a few bob and the GTI awards presentation evenings were the envy of the world.


Monday, 13 February 2012

GTI Awards 2006 - The Big Night - Chapter 2


CHAPTER TWO

(Written by Joe) 


Joe smiles. He looks around, waves to the audience and for a split second his eyes glow red. Everyone thinks this is some sort of emotion welling up inside him but actually it’s because the vinegar from the catering size pickled egg jar had splashed everywhere during the melee and a goodly amount of it had landed on Joe’s face, dripping into his eyes. There was another reason why his eyes were watering which was to become obvious later. Seeing his way to the stage was not going to be easy. He tried to stand upright but that stupid woman had put some sort of contraption on his leg.

He really didn’t have much of a clue as to what had been going on. He remembered trying to get into the hall through a very narrow doorway when he suddenly saw a comely Yalding country lass also trying to get in. Joe thought she might like to squeeze past him tightly through this tiny gap so he stood in the doorway for a second to let her in……slowly. Just as he was wiping the dribble from his chin, which unfortunately made him look like a lecherous old-time movie villain twirling his moustache, he felt sure that a shadowy figure he had been following (one of his fellow GITs no doubt) slammed the door sharply on his foot and then moved off chuckling.

The next thing Joe remembered was waking up with an immovable leg. Some old woman shoved some horse tablets down his throat “to kill the pain” and two GITs carried him awkwardly, stretcher-like to a chair. There was much bumping of his bad foot into tables, chairs, corners of walls, the bar, the stage, the bar again and finally an unceremonious dumping into a chair. Each bump was followed by a harrowing howl from Joe and a very loud chuckle from one of his bearers. Joe noted that this laugh was uncannily similar to the one he had heard during the doorway incident.

Through the haze caused by whatever was in those massive tablets, Joe thought that he had permanently lost all movement of his leg but, looking down, he saw that there was a good reason why he couldn’t move it. That daft Mrs Flagg, with the help of a dark shadowy figure he couldn’t quite identify, had roped half of Sherwood Forest to it. The added problem was that the 4 by 2s which made up the splint had not been cut to length and were causing great distress.

The one on the outside of the leg was a good 18” longer than the limb itself extending way beyond his foot, making walking almost impossible, unless Joe could find an 18” high kerb to walk along. The timber on the inside of the leg was only about 3” longer than the leg but had been tied cleverly so that the bottom of it was level with the sole of Joe’s shoe. Mrs Flagg had been pleased at the aforethought which went into this but she had not thought, afore or after, about the distress which three inches of timber could cause when pushed into a place where only a bespoke tailor should venture. It was no wonder that Joe’s eyes were red and watering.

So, standing to make his unexpected way to the stage, half blind and wonky, he fell over immediately sending another table of drinks flying into laps.
“Sorry, sorry,” Joe said, just stopping himself from following up with “I’ll buy you all another round.”

How on earth was he going to get to the stage in this state? Through his watering, vinegar-soaked sore eyes he saw a familiar shadowy figure in the dim lit room and it placed a chair under Joe’s unsplinted leg, thus bringing both legs to almost equal lengths. “Thanks,” said Joe, not really knowing which of his great GIT mates had helped him, “I much appreciate your help.” There was a mumbled response from the helper along the lines of “My pleasure.”

Joe took a step forward. Unfortunately the chair toppled over immediately, sending Joe sprawling. Once again there was a familiar chuckle, now bordering onto a cackle. Then Joe saw that the bloody chair had only got three bloody legs. “Fancy giving me that,” he said from his horizontal position on the floor and towards the general direction of his helper, “You must have known that it would send me crashing?” There was muffled “Yes,” and a cackle from somewhere and Joe began to have a few doubts.

Then there followed a moment of pure delight as the comely Yalding country lass who Joe had fallen in lust with at the door, suddenly came to his aid. She bent down over his sprawled body, showing just that little bit more cleavage, took his hand and held the back of his neck. Joe began to dribble again, thinking all sorts of things.

“Any minute now,” he thought, “she will start to examine my poor, broken body. Her hands will run over my leg, starting at my foot and running up to the bespoke tailor’s end. She will have great pity for me and will whisk me away to a quiet room where she will tend to me and then, who knows? She will probably say something like ‘Oh Joe, you’re such a hero I want to do naughtiness with you.’

Then, joy of joys. The comely Yalding country lass did speak. She took a deep breath, spat the chewing tobacco out her mouth and said, “Bloody ‘ell, will someone pick this smelly, fat old fart off the floor for Gawd’s sake. ‘Ees fallen on me Old Shag baccy tin an’ I fancy a bleeding roll up.”

“Ah well, another broken dream” thought crestfallen Joe, but then suddenly he perked up “Ah, if it’s an old shag you want…” 

She booted him unmercilessly until he rolled over to one side and, retrieving a battered tobacco tin from the floor, she gave a last vicious kick to Joe’s bad leg and effed and blinded all the way to the exit. 
Everyone had been watching this altercation but, when the comely lass left the room, they all went back to their drinks, ignoring Joe lying on the floor. The general hubbub of a busy club took over.

Joe realised that he had to help himself if he was to get his moment of glory on stage.

This time he found a four legged chair himself, realising that his ‘friends’ were not quite as trustworthy as he at first thought. Slowly and with great difficulty, scraping along with one foot on the chair and a lump of wood sticking out 18” longer than the other leg, he made it to the stage.

In a funny sort of way, by acting as a sort of stilt, his splint made it easier to get onto the platform, which disappointed certain of the GIT fraternity as there was a joyful expectation that Joe may have further difficulties and embarrassments. Joe, with help from some geezer with a crash helmet, made it triumphantly onto the stage, with the aforethought to realise that he would need to take his chair as support up with him for his shorter unsplinted leg if he wasn’t to immediately take an embarrassing tumble down into the audience again.

As he stood up on the stage, pleased with himself, he tapped a finger to the side of his nose, looked at the audience and exclaimed “Aha!” in self acknowledgment of his clever forward planning.

At the same time, as he stood up sharply, his extra height meant that the top of his head clashed dramatically with the very, very low lighting gantry smashing several bulbs, none of which, luckily, were actually working and the “Aha!” turned into “Ahaaaaaggg”.

Joe immediately took an embarrassing tumble into the audience.

There were loud cacklings from several directions.

Joe started to shake and clenched his fists.

“That’s enough. That’s all I can stands ‘cos I can stands no more,” said Joe, for some strange reason finding himself quoting Popeye from the 1940’s era. Mentally, he had taken a tin of spinach from his pocket, squeezed it until it popped, and holding it above his head, swallowed it all in one go.  Now he was Super Popeye with pneumatic arms and anchor tattoos, confronting Bluto. Joe scrambled to a sitting up position and frantically tore at the rope around the wood which was holding his leg rigid. Sweat poured, trousers were ripped but he finally got the timbers off his leg and threw them to the ground.

Now he noticed a very peculiar thing. The longer piece of 4 by 2 seemed to move off along the floor into the audience on its own.  It almost looked as though there was some sort of cord attached to it.

Almost as if it were being pulled by a member of the audience in the darkened room…

Almost as if it were being pulled by someone at the table where all the GITs were sitting…

Almost as if some dark, cackling, shadowy figure there, had been trying to control the movement of Joe’s leg…

Almost as if that person could perhaps have made Joe’s leg jerk out just as Marty was passing on his way to the stage…

Almost as if cackling Crawfie, who Joe seemed to remember was closest, wanted to incriminate Joe claiming that he had tripped Marty on purpose…

Almost as if every other GIT knew that this was the plan to unnerve the previous worthy champion.

Joe realised he had definitely uncovered a dastardly plot and was fuming. They would not get away with it. He was going to confront them all.

Joe grasped the cord and fed it from one hand to the other as he followed its trail. This led him directly to Crawfie who was sat at the table with a drink in one hand and the end of the cord in the other.
“Aha,” said Joe, suddenly looking upwards in case the gantry was still there, “Caught you red handed Crawfie”

“Wha’ cha mean?” cackled Crawfie.

“Well, it’s quite obvious isn’t it?” said Joe, “You are responsible for this whole outrage. The evidence is all here. You slammed the door on my foot, you ‘helped’ Mrs Flagg tie a ludicrously long splint to my leg which was designed to disable me, you tied a cord to it and pulled it on purpose so that I inadvertently tripped Marty, then you handed me a dodgy chair as support and pulled it away from me, then I follow the cord and I find you still holding it in your hand and still pulling the timber towards you. There’s no way out for you. The evidence is overwhelming. You are guilty aren’t you Crawfie. Admit it, go on admit it. Be a man, tell the truth, go on, admit it, admit it,”

Crawfie looked up slowly, put down his drink and said,  “Nah, tweren’t me. Don’t know nuffink aabaht it, mate.”

“Oh that’s alright then,” said Joe, relieved that his great friend obviously hadn’t betrayed him “silly me, my mistake. Let me buy you drink.”

He looked at all the other GITS and raised his eyebrows in a silent question looking for an admission of guilt.

“Noooooo,” they all said as one, shaking their heads and sipping their beers to hide their cackles, which caused a few drops to be spilt.

The Count added “We know nothing about it either, dear boy.”

“Oh of course not, I should never have mentioned it. Please accept my apologies everyone and let me buy you all another round.” Damn, thought Joe, there I’ve said it.

“Don’t mind if you do,” said The Count and the cackling grew louder and much beer was spilt as bubbles were blown into glasses.

Joe opened his wallet, took out a fiver and threw it onto the table.

“Get the drinks in yourselves lads if you don’t mind, I’ve still got to get on with this award business.”

That’s not enough, dear boy,” said The Count, “We’ll need a bit more than that to forget your cruel accusations.”

Joe opened his wallet again and several hands reached in and grabbed all there was.

“Come on boys, that’s not fair,” said Joe “You’ve left my wallet empty. I appreciate I have made some grievous accusations erroneously and have to pay, but let me have some of it back. Come on, play the game. I’m going to put my empty wallet down on the table here and close my eyes for 10 seconds. When I open them again, I expect some of it back.”

Joe closed his eyes and counted backwards from 10. When he opened his eyes, he looked down at the table and his wallet had gone.

“Now that’s enough,” he said, “I want my wallet and contents back now, come on, let’s be having it.”

There was silence for a few seconds and then the only movement was the landing on the table from somewhere in the crowd of a very old condom sachet which had indeed previously been part of the wallet contents. Joe picked it up quickly before anyone could see that the sell by date was November 1969.

Joe realised that he had to get back on stage to accept this damn award for this damn silly woman who hardly made any effort and shouldn’t have even figured in the contest let alone win an award. Why should I put myself though any other aggro just for her, he thought. But then, there was a duty to be performed and Joe made his way to the stage. Once again the geezer with the crash helmet helped him up but this time Joe realised who it was. Why it was his employer, Mr Ross. It was he, you may remember, who gave Joe a chance when he ended his year as King Git.

“Hello Mr Ross, thanks for giving me a hand up again when I needed it most.”

“Wuddy hell, it’s you, my sodding window cleaner,” said Ross, “You’re the peeping tom twat who keeps appeawing at the bathroom window evewy time my missus has just climbed into the bath. I’ll swear you are always there, waiting for her to get in.”

“Of course I’m not Mr Ross,” said Joe, “I wouldn’t wait there all the time would I? No point. I know she only bathes every Thursday morning, whether she needs it or not.”

Rossy let go of Joe allowing him to fall onto the club floor and then he jumped down on top of him and the two tumbled around shouting and swearing.
At this point Mr Biggins arrived back into the club having finally found two security people after going off in a search during the first battle earlier in the evening.

“That’s the man,” he shouted pointing at Joe, “he’s the one who started it all and he’s still at it.”

The two burly security people, who were actually Miss Navpotty Roller and Miss Willy Gene Thing from the mixed singles at Yalding tennis club, grabbed Joe bodily and threw him out into the street. Joe actually found this quite exciting but didn’t let on.

His arrival on the pavement disturbed the comely Yalding country lass who was sitting on the kerb and again chewing baccy. She swore at him, kicked his leg again and spat a black sludge down his shirt.

Joe sat there for a minute, head in hands, thinking that he must get back to accept that poor women’s award. She is a friend of Marty’s and he must stand up and sing her praises and graciously receive the trophy.

Then he thought, “Nah, Sod her,” and asked the Yalding lass for a roll up.

She swore and kicked his leg again.

It was a while inside the club before anyone noticed that Joe wasn’t there and that he wasn’t coming back, at least at the moment. For he was even now planning some sort or revenge, or a least a good reason why those two beefy women should have to manhandle him again.

But then, inside, Mr Ross regained his composure and his helmet and climbed back onto the stage.

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