||"These Earthlings! They Use Their Penises For Sex!"|
the intergalactic bitching games
starring the Cadbury's Smash Robots
|Fox Hooters, Your GalactOlympiHost
One team, consisting of two select contenders, is allowed from each Class "M" planet. Each pair are given thirty seconds to be scathing about subjects of the Timelords' (not The Timelords, silly) choosing. Bitchiness will be marked on a "get her" factor.
Fox Hooters was stolen from Kama's Furry Art collection, without permission. Go there.
Blue : So, darling, what will you be having for dessert? Oh my God... are those potatoes? Red : Oh really! This is a high class space restaurant. Who let potatoes in? Blue : Waiter! Red : I've lost my appetite. Let's go home. Blue : We aren't going anywhere. If anyone's leaving, it's those potatoes. Waiter! Red : I don't want to cause a scene. [gags] Oh, look, that one's wearing sports casual. Have they no shame? Blue : Oh, please. WAITER! Red : Quiet! They're coming over! [both Smash Robots look down and whistle to themselves. The potatoes use the toilet and leave in embarrassment]Verdict : Bonus for snobbishness. Use of the "clothing bitchiness" joker at this early stage is a gamble, especially in their strongest round. Penalised for the passivity and apparent "bitch shame" of the Red Robot. A tactical error, there, perhaps through potato bitch overconfidence.
[clanking laughter] Both : What the hell is that? Blue : Ha! Ha! Who did that to you? We will get them for you! Ha! Ha! Red : Ha! Ha! Someone had an argument with a lawnmower! Ha! Ha! Blue : Ha! Ha! Yes, indeed. Someone forgot to tip the hairdresser! Ha! Ha! [pause] Red : How would that affect the hairstyle? Blue : I,.. you know. The hairdresser was pissed off with him. Red : So he chased him down the street with scissors and cut up the hairstyle he had already done? Blue : Yes, yes. Yes, he did.Verdict : A good start, with synchronised bitching. Degraded immediately into clichéd bitching - ending with disorientation and in-bitching. Not up to Olympic standards.
Red : I am not polishing the Space Cow. I stroked the Astro Cats last week. Blue : And you did a terrible job! You should never stroke the Astro Cats against their will! Red : Rubbish. They love it, those dirty Astro Cats. They love it, they love it. Blue : Do not start that. You are just compensating, of course. Red : Compensating? Compensating for the fact that you will not polish the Space Cow? Blue : You are asserting your manhood because you only took two minutes in bed last night. [the crowd gasp] Red : Sleeping with you, you want to get it over with as quickly as possible. [some clapping from the male members of the audience]Verdict : Bonus for sexual performance bitch, penalty for the relatively obscure reference of "stroking Astro Cats against their will". Competitors from other planets might not understand.
Red : That Courtney Cox. She is certainly a dish. Blue : That is so male. You are just so sucked in by anything with breasts and the surname "Cox". You are clearly confused about your sexuality. Red : That is so not true. Who is your favourite, then? Blue : Promise not to laugh? Red : Promise. Blue : I like Ross. [gales of clanking laughter] Red : You like Ross. You like Ross. That is so you. Blue : And what is wrong with Ross? He is very sensitive. Unlike some Red Robots with small space willies. Red : He is funny looking and wet. Phoebe is much nicer. Blue : Phoebe is the choice of the mental inadequate. Red : That is very unfair. You are jealous of her simple beauty. I suppose you like Chandler. Blue : No. Chandler has funny hair. Red : Yes, you are right. He does indeed have funny hair. Blue : Let's never fight again. Red : I love you. [the two Robots hug. The theme tune from "Golden Girls" plays]Verdict : The ever-dangerous trap of allowing the subject matter to affect the form of the argument, although promising not to laugh with the clear intention of laughing gains some marks. The Smash Robots come fourth in the 1997 Intergalactic Bitching Olympics, a bitter disappointment, especially with such high hopes in the Potato round.
Don't hold your breath for "Mr T Hosts The Transgendered Back-Biting Olympics"