It’s always fun to watch the Hoaxtead pushers turn on one another and start bashing away…and we haven’t had a really good dust-up since Abrella turned on Bronny and accused her of being an MI5 plant.
So it was with some enjoyment that we watched this imbroglio unfold this morning on Twitter:
Translation: Catherine (a friend of both Bronny and Angie, unsurprisingly) suspects Butlincat (sometime friend of Charlotte Alton Ward) of being a turncoat! (She also thinks ‘they’ are going to bump her off…ah, if only….)
Door2Door, aka Jim McMenamin, balks at this. After all, Butlincat is old! How could he be a traitor to their cause?
And besides, says Jim, we don’t want to give him away to the ‘GoatShedMob’ (oh, that Jim, always got a witty nickname up his sleeve!). Catherine doesn’t care. She got blocked. That’s all she knows, and all she wants to know.
Meanwhile, Scotsman turns up, wondering what all the fuss is about.
Catherine tries to exert her brilliant cross-examination skills, but she’s rebuffed by Leighton, who tells her she’s an idiot. Go, Leighton!
Abe/Drifloud pokes his head in to point an accusatory finger at Leighton, only to be told by Jim that most people don’t believe in Hoaxtead anyway. Scotsman, who’s starting to bear an uncanny resemblance to Father Jack, bellows something incoherent and slides back into his drunken stupour.
Ah, here comes Butlincat now. Strangely, he seems a little grumpy about being called a traitor. Feck it. Block the lot of ’em.
Ooh! Jim’s got an actual picture of the elusive Butlincat! (So do we. He’s Perp 9 in our Perps list, which you’ll find conveniently located in the sidebar of this blog.)
Jim might not like Butlincat, but he doesn’t want to give him away. Whatever anyone might call him, Jim’s no snitch. (See previous note above, re ‘too late’.)
Catherine reasserts her original beef, but now Jim is off on his own personal pity party. People block him without telling him, did you know that? We hope you’re all thoroughly ashamed of yourselves, hurting Jim’s feelings like that.
“By the way, Catherine, what were we talking about again?”
“Fer feck’s sake, Jim, how many times have I got to tell you? LET’S GET IT STRAIGHT! THEY’VE BLOCKED ME! YOUR FRIENDS HAVE BLOCKED ME!”
“Oh, yeah, well, they blocked me too. But you don’t see me whingeing on about it”.
And up pops Father Jack again, growling and waving his bottle. “Drink! Feck! Arse-biscuits! What’s going on here?”
And so it goes.
Honestly, with the Hoaxtead crew ripping into one another like this, who needs Eastenders?