Sunday 16 June 2013

Rod, Emu and Grotbags ~ The Unholy Trinity!

“There’s somebody at the door, there’s somebody at the door”

Can I ask, has anyone ever been so excited by someone knocking on their door that they’ve all but had an orgasm at the thought of having a visitor? Nope? I thought as much. So it’s just the freaks and window-lickers then!

But I suppose you can’t really blame Rod Hull for getting a tad enthusiastic about the possibility of adult conversation, all he had to talk to really was a bunch of waster kids and a psychotic puppet that resembled an emu. Any conversation that didn’t make him feel like a paedophile must have been a welcome relief. And seeing as his house was called “the pink windmill” adult visitors must have been few and far between.



In curiosity, what kind of visitor could a man who lives in a pink fucking windmill, and constantly has his hand up Emu’s arse expect? Certainly no one rational, no one he can talk politics or any of the major issues of the day with. Would you want to travel to a bright pink windmill and run the risk of getting pecked to death by a glorified hand-puppet?

So really it’s no surprise that poor old Rod looked like he’s made an excited mess in his pants every time there was a rap at the door. Even if it could have been the police, coming to arrest him for “doing a Michael Jackson” with all those kids.

And now we’ve brought him up, what the fuck was Emu’s problem? This was a puppet who’d made it, he was the celebrity of celebrity’s in the puppet world, eclipsing anything that squeaky voiced idiot Orville could do. He’s had a successful showbiz career spanning a few decades and some fairly successful TV shows and he’s rumoured to be up for the lead role in the new version of Animal Farm. Yet he’s a dick! All he wants to do is attack people, peck at them until they accept his mastery. Did you know poor Michael Parkinson is still in therapy, years after Emu’s vicious and unprovoked attack upon him? Only Rod’s little friends seemed to be safe from Emu’s attentions.

So why do we love this uncontrollable and rage filled puppet? Is it because we are an inherently violent species trying to be civilised, and thus we have to live vicariously through Emu to indulge those violent tendencies? Or is that far too complex an answer? If anyone has a theory I’m open to hearing it!

Emu did have someone other than Rod who wanted him around, though I’m sure Grotbags had a completely different reason for it.

Ah Grotbags, has there ever been another witch quite like her? Assisted by her two helpers; Robert Redford, a gay robot and C3PO wannabe and Croc, a huge idiotic crocodile who’d leave even Steve Irwin feeling unimpressed, Grotbags manages to fuck up just about every plan she hatches. Since most of her plans involve kidnapping Emu we can only be sorry that she fails all the time.



Instead of being like any normal and respectable witch and carrying a wand, the green faced old trout carried along a freaky looking thing called a “bazazzer”. Looking like a cross between an arm and an umbrella it was hardly likely induce fear in even the most abject coward, and the most use she put it to was to beat her incompetent assistants around the head while shouting “bazazz” to activate the thing.


And there readers is a brief description about a trio of the freakiest characters ever to disturb young minds. Don’t exactly sound like role models do they?

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