HEN NIGHT OF HORROR III
It’s Slutty’s hen night, and she’s not happy. Byrite’s whooping it up in Amsterdam (probably visiting a clog factory or contemplating a Rembrandt at the Rijksmuseum), and all she has to look forward to is an evening of grubby drunken revelations and rioting in the Vic with the Slater women. Even Posh turns up in a wig she seems to have nicked off Babs. Posh salutes Slutty for joining the ranks of the bewigged alcoholic gold diggers while Drippy drips on about love conquering everything. Slutty looks fed up. There’s some stuff with a very muscular drag queen, and Byrite sends the guitarist from the pub covers band over to serenade Slutty. Teen complains that Byrite has outclassed her with his minor music biz contacts – it’s a ginger bloke with a guitar, love. It’s not like Byrite dug up John Lennon and zombiefied him just for the occasion, is it? Mind you, Yoko might have yet another money-spinning idea there…

Everybody keeps saying: “This time tomorrow, you’ll be Mrs Byrite!” and even Byrite texts “You is mah wife now Daaaave” from the tulip fields. Slutty flees to the hospital and tearfully confesses to an unconscious Ethel 2.0 that she loves Fool really. Well…duh!

Ethel 2.0 has had the tap fitted to her head, and Spencer does his best brow-furrowing to date. Fool, meanwhile, serves drinks to the hen party and runs through an entire gallery of sad looks; but he still values his kneecaps too much to go to Slutty’s wedding. Tsk! What a coward, eh?

Ash’s Secret Hell continues. Dadvis and Kareena follow him to what Dadvis says is a secret opium and gambling den in the Community Centre. Wrong! It’s a Gambler’s Anonymous meeting, and Ash is cross with them all. He turns to Shirley for comfort, and they start licking each other’s faces after five minutes of literary chat.

Dadvis and the little Ferreiras ponder the theft of £200 from their living room while DJ Ross lovingly caresses his new crossfader thingumajig from Scalliq. Dadvis says that only a lying lowlife with the principles of a sewer rat would steal from the Ferreiras, and everybody stares at Scalliq’s present.

Please make sure that you are not digesting anything when you read this next bit. AGarry is torn, yes torn, between two women. Sullen starts flicking her Rosa Klebb hair all over him in the pub and slagging off poor Simpleton. Simpleton drags him out of the pub, shags him, and then sends him back to the pub. Something in Fool’s special Hen Night punch must have affected the Slater women’s eyesight because both Sullen and Posh get all flicky hair and fluttery and make suggestive comments about park benches and mechanics’ pits (pure class, these girls). AGarry looks bemused – as do the viewing public.

There is a nanosecond of scriptwriting genius. O-Den is at home, waiting for a call from a man with a plan. Or plans. The plans of some factory or other, to be precise. O-Den takes the plans over to Fill’s place and starts talking about a grand heist that could make everybody lots of money, and help O-Den buy the Vic from Fill. Fill forgets that the last grand heist he was involved in got completely cocked up and involved Cherie Lunghi and Martin Kemp copping off and some bloke with a Napoleon complex ripping off Billy’s testicles, and looks interested despite himself.