OK, I haven't watched this since New Year's Eve, when I was forced to see something about a gay bloke, son of her off Goodness Gracious Me. Actually, it was quite good, and despite myself I enjoyed it.

So, here's the live one, and it's all dark, which is good.

Roxi-er-Ronnie tells Ronni-er-Roxie that Archie raped JoJo Slater-Branning-err...who is JoJo married to these days? Apparently Bradley is supposed to be accused of murdering Archie? Bradley? He couldn't even murder his own Dad for sleeping with his girlfriend. Dadley and other chap help Bradley and JoJo go on the lam.

JoJo - having meaningfully gazed for some time at some BLOOD-coloured finger paintings - tries to tell Bradley Something Important, but bottles out (I think). As they're saying their goodbyes to Dadley and other bloke, the Met's finest are at the door. They scrabble around for the back door key. Yeah, because the Met are so STUPID they wouldn't have the back door covered. Meanwhile JoJo Ma is showing everybody pictures of her little angel and looking vaguely happy in the pub.

Ronni-er-Roxie asks Roxi-er-Ronnie how she could be sure...Roxi-er-Ronnie says he raped her too. Ew.

Juhneen (hooray) is looking bloody marvellous and gets shouted at by Biancaa for ruining a cake. Then she waves some keys at Babs (thought she'd gone) and accuses Babs of framing her. She seems to have acquired a cute boyfriend from somewhere.

Dot has obviously demanded that she needs to sit down all the way through this, and does her best tortured face while discussing whatever terrible secret she has with the Bealemeister. I thought Beale was banged up for the moider of Archie already?

Fil has worked himself up into a glorious strawberry hue, and smashes up Ian's living room, looking for a tin or something. Fil tells Ian that his "skank of a daughter" told him that Ian has...erm something...and errr...I'm lost.

Atkins appears to be carrying on with Fil, and has turned over a bloodstained shirt to the police. And he's got to give his best man's speech in a minute. Babs says she'll sort it out.

Oh no...I'm just seen Araminta with his shirt off...my EEEYYYYYESSS. They've decided to keep Billy busy and away from proper Acting by staging a drinking competition between him, Dasbo and assorted guests in frilly dresses.

-

There's red stuff everywhere in the Vic bathroom and Ronni-er-Roxie is lying on the bed. I dunno...bad period? Roxi-er-Ronnie doesn't believe her story about being raped by Archie. Oh, I'm confused. There is shouting, fighting and lots of crying, and Babs joins in the fun.

Bradley and JoJo can't take the tube out of town because the police are guarding the door. They try to take a taxi, but Bradley remembers that he's left the passports back in the house. Pity they don't work for Mossad really. The

Dot and Ian are playing 'e's dead with a family video from the Beale/Fowler video vaults. There's Ange, Shazza, the first Mark Fowler, 'Shell, Kaffee, Tweacle and Arfur. And then the video dies...

Bradley returns home in time to see Dadley and err...other bloke being taken away. He creeps away from the coppers, and...then his phone goes off. Oh no, he climbs up on a handy roof. Who'd have thought an accountant could be so fit?

Oh NOO! He's jumped! Or did he stumble on the slightly unstable mid-Victorian lead flashing.

JoJo and Dadley try to come to terms with the sight of Bradley's motionless form on the tarmac, blood draining from his cheeks and onto the road. JoJo finally says what she's been meaning to say, ever since she sat contemplating the BLOOD RED finger painting while Bradley packed...

And then George Lamb starts talking and I have to remove all sharp objects from the room.

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN: DEATH! SPLASH! HORROR!
Now, one of the things I forgot to tell you on Friday was that Yolande discovered that @@'s internet nonce was in fact Dasbo. So taken was she by the romantic fool's crazy technological shenanigans that she arranges a special lunch for Dasbo and @@, so that they can talk together. Dasbo declares his love in the time-honoured way of the teenage male: "Urrgh...like ya donneye? Hmph...". @@ is not impressed, and suggests he tries to express his feelings using the medium of...Scrabble. Now, many people have been wooed over a game of Scrabble, but I'm guessing not many East End teenagers. Yolande leaves them working out how many swear words begin with Q, and whether or not they can fit them on a triple word score, and joins TriniDad in the pub. She's all smug about her cupid work until TriniDad observes that the Dolescum track record on teenage pregnancies is hardly exemplary. Yolande: worried.

But you don't want to know about that, you want to know...who dies? Well, we return to the car. DC Peter is unconscious - well that's an easy half hour for all of us. Ben says his head hurts, and the grown-ups seem OK. Strangely, Billy was not catapulted through the windscreen at 50mph, and Fill sends him for help. As it is our last post, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that Hertfordshire has no mobile phone coverage at all. Billy trudges along until he spots a car, and runs toward it. The driver, seeing Billy's bloodstained head, thinks she has stumbled on the set of 28 Weeks Later, and speeds away.

Meanwhile DC Peter has convulsions (fine jerking there, DC Peter). Fill drags the Bealemeister out of the car, and they bicker. Except that the mechanic forgets that the car's brakes might not be in the best condition after somersaulting over a fallen tree, and the car putters down the hill, turns left at the bend, and slides gently into a handy lake. Fill immediately dives into the water. Suddenly I am reminded of the plight of the manatee. He manages to pull Ben to safety, and Ian manages not to say: "Don't bother with the gimp, save the Aryan and his pure seed!" Fill goes back for DC Peter, and pulls him out too.

Bradley and JoJo are friends again, and discussing her married boyfriend in the pub. JoJo gets a text from Dadley, which Bradley intercepts; but cleverly (unlike most EE strumpets) she doesn't list him in her phonebook as "Dadley- the married man wot I am shagging", so Bradley is none the wiser.

At the hair-patting salon, Fairy Bobby is wreaking havoc with the straighteners, the staff want to go home, but Babs orders fresh supplies of alcohol and demands more facepacks all round. DC Lucy looks slightly constipated and reaches for the phone. I think this is supposed to be that famous twinly intuition. Ian makes a pact with God for the life of his beautiful blonde boy. God doesn't tell him he's got the wrong number.

That's all folks. Thanks for reading.

OEDIPUS VEX

Imagine yourself at a EE script conference. I imagine these take place in the cellar of some private drinking club. As dwarves in tutus rollerskate between the participants, bearing the drug of choice, plus a stiff chaser, the producers lounge on giant chaise lounges, occasionally yelling with glee as the next shivering scriptwriter is dragged from a softly moaning heap of rags in the corner. The head producer wipes her hands on a runner's Prada scarf and eyes the pitiful figure before her.

HEAD PRODUCER: Which one are you again? Ah yes. We've had to ditch the exchange arrangement with Bad Girls. Jim Fenner made outrageous demands for a believable character that wouldn't immediately sink his career after three shows, so the deal's off. We're keeping Atkins for a bit, but they want the Tall Julie one back. What's she doing right now? Oh well, get her to kiss Minty, throw in a bit of mother/son bonding, and send her back to Brighton. Are we putting the plot cupboard in Brighton these days? How charming. NEXT!

Grateful that she has escaped another ritual humiliation at the hands of Sid Owen, the writer scuttles back into her corner.

HEAD PRODUCER: Who's next then? Chop chop! Time is licence payers' money! Hmmm...this Ben/Cruestella plot. Not quite sure what's going on here, but those On High say that we've got to do some bullying thing. So keep up the good work. What's that? You want to raise the stakes? Fill is going to notice that something's wrong, but he'll get the wrong idea? Speak up!

SCRIPTWRITER: Errr...well, I thought Fill could notice that something is wrong, but being such a dreadful father, would think that Cruestella has it covered.

HEAD PRODUCER: SILENCE! I HAVE AN IDEA. Even better than that, we have a chance for one of those two handers that we usually reserve for Dot and a lucky stooge. Who can we have...think think...

SCRIPTWRITER: How about Dadley? The symmetry between the -

HEAD PRODUCERS: Bald Heads! Yes I know! It'll be like living Gilbert & George, only without the poo. Well, they'll have to talk shit, but you know what I mean. I like the cut of your jib, young...I'm sorry are you male or female? It's hard to tell with those EE-issue uniforms and haircuts. Anyway, not that it matters. Write some stuff about fatherly bonding and up the ante with Stella's torment. How is she abusing him, by the way? Chinese burns on arms? Oh, and throw in an awkward conversation about birds and bees. That'll sort the kid out for another week.

Hang on...I haven't finished with you yet. Since you're such an ideas...whatever...you can also handle the Goggins/Parklife wedding. I want them married by May.

SCRIPTWRITER: I thought doctors couldn't perform weddings...

HEAD PRODUCER: No, not Dr Foxxy, fool! May the month. We haven't had an unfeasibly quick wedding for a while. Make Mrs Goggins decide on 27 April, which is also the anniversary of The Death of St Jimbo. See? I know my Easties lore... That'll give Deano a chance to earn some acting spurs.

SCRIPTWRITER: But...Deano?

HEAD PRODUCER: Nothing too hard, just let him pout a bit over at Atkins's place and do his hilarious drunk acting thing. Carly can do that screwy up face and scream a bit, and the teens'll love it. Make sure he takes his shirt off too. Oh, and give her a cough. I like coughs...

Alright then, who have we got left? Hmmm.... Dadley and JoJo...running out of ideas with those two. Just get her to send him saucy text messages and maybe one of the kids will find it or something. Do 40-year-olds know how to do photo messaging? Must ask my mum.

What else? Oh, Dot and Jim and that baby. Oh I don't know. Can't she come up with some story about it being Nick's? Oh he's had cancer and been in prison forever, hasn't he? How about a ghost baby? We'll rope in the blonde Tanyette and freak out the Beale Devil Children some more.

Oh, there's a point. Prison Bitch Bert. Has he gone blind yet? No? well, get that zombie-faced kid to save him, and get him to the hospital. There's potential in that relationship. We could have another set of Cottons if Dot decides to take her walking frame and go.

sycophantic laughter from the writers' corner...

DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK? That's better. Now...time for pudding...