We’d just been thinking that we hadn’t seen much of Abrella lately, when we heard they’d be starring in a brand new Alfred Lambremont Webre video.
Oh bliss, oh joy. You cannot even begin to imagine our delight.
As we generally do, we drew straws—short straw has to watch the bloody thing and report back to HQ.
The poor sod wept bitter tears, but fair’s fair, so the video was watched, notes were taken, and the results heaved through our window wrapped around a brick, along with a note informing us that Agent Z was putting in for early retirement. Odd how that happens.
Anyhoo…here’s what we received:
Not that I’m bitter, but here’s the title of this dog’s breakfast you’ve stuck me with: Pedophile network includes 2016 Trump, Clintons, CIA, Popes, Monarchs – Cannabinoids solution.
But don’t feel guilty.
Okay, so this is a 5-person panel: Alfred, who always looks like his piles are acting up, and sounds like his balls haven’t dropped yet; some youngish Spanish fellow; a busty woman from Australia who looks like she applies her makeup with a trowel each morning; a geezer with a goatee from the States; and of course Abe Christie and Ella Draper. Except Ella’s invisible at the moment.
Whatever, Abe’s there, looking even tinier than usual. Maybe it’s the NHS-issue glasses? Not a good look for him. Hey, what’s he doing in someone’s dining room?
Do I really have to do this? Hey, I just looked at the time-stamp. This thing is 4 hours and 46 minutes long! Why do you all hate me so?
Okay, so Abe has 5 minutes to give his spiel. I hear Ella’s voice, but she’s not on-screen. WTF? How are they doing this? Is she in another room?
Blah blah blah, Tavistock, blah blah, usual paranoid ramblings, satanic ritual abuse, you know the drill.
Now Abe is jumping around like he’s got a live crab caught in his pants. For God’s sake, little man, sit still!
Oh, and here he’s trying to sneak a look down the front of Oz Woman’s dress…”Maybe if I twist my head just so…she’ll never notice…hmm…wonder if I could get Ella to have a boob job?”
Oh, now it looks like he’s muted his Skype and decided to kill some time taking phone calls:
Okay, so he’s called a few of his business associates, checked out his Facebook…now he’s just staring off blankly, still muted. Doesn’t he look utterly fascinated by what his fellow panelists have to say? I know I was.
“Ooh, blimey, another phone call! Sorry, all, gotta take this. Very important”.
“What do you mean, world cannabis commodities markets are flattening? This is not cool, bruh”.
Aaaaaaand now he’s left the screen completely. Is he even allowed to do that? Why isn’t this Alfred feller calling him on it? Spanish dude is all, like, ‘foolish English muppet’, and Oz Lady doesn’t look pleased. American guy is meditating on his gun collection.
Oh, oh, Abe’s back…and would you look at that? Now he’s got two phones! One for talking into, one for taking selfies.
Looks like it’s finally Abe’s turn to talk. He gives his usual scintillating oration, but how come his eyes are moving from side to side the whole time? Abe, are you actually reading a script on the screen there? That’s totally cheating, you know.
He’s off on his usual spiel, all about the rites of sodomy and stimulating nerve endings at the base of the spine—I think he gets off on that one, he has to say it twice. And here we go with the ‘manually manipulating the pineal gland’ thing. Here’s a question: does he actually even know where the freaking pineal gland is? Because I’d be willing to bet he doesn’t.
Do you know where it is? Because I do. It’s inside the brain, Abe. Inside the brain. Deep inside. You cannot possibly manually manipulate it. I think you’re mistaking ‘pineal gland’ for ‘big toe’ or ‘earlobe’ or something. You know. Things on the outside of the body which you can manipulate. So just shut up about the pineal gland now, okay?
Now Ella comes on, but she can’t seem to string a full sentence together. Abe keeps correcting her, trying to get her to stick to the party line, but it’s like she’s on another planet (little inter-galactic joke there…oh, never mind).
Oh, whoops, looks like little Aby’s forgotten his lines. Look at the screen, idiot! Look at the screen!
Hey, you know what? Life’s too short to spend it watching these bozos. I’m outta here, and I’m taking the office supply of Jammy Dodgers with me, so there. So long, suckas!
And that, as they say, was the end of that.
Another good field correspondent bites the dust, and now we’re all out of Jammy Dodgers.
Looks like it’ll be a very glum Monday at Hoaxtead Research HQ…but what the hey, at least we’re caught up on the latest Abrella film masterpiece.