Posted by fústar in 
9.00 – A pair of cheap, stained curtains open. A thin figure bounds jovially through them and onto the stage. A glamorous, heavily pregnant, assistant follows (her movements cautious & wary). The scene reeks of tawdry & thrown-together charm – like a school nativity play performed by enthusiastic but bumbling & incompetent children.
[Virtual applause]
Ok. Alright. Thank you. Settle Down. Take your seats.
[More virtual applause]
Yes. Lovely. Hup! Hup! Thank you. Yes.
[Even more virtual applause. Louder and more ferocious this time. Almost deafening - with an edge of hysteria]
Yes! Lovely! LOVELY! Please stop… Please God stop… I'm scared… You're all MARVELLOUS! HELP ME! Oh Christ above in heaven…MY NERVES ARE SHATTERED!
[Instant, virtual silence]
[Slowly recovering composure] Ah? Yes. OK.
Welcome, welcome and thrice welcome dearest friends to the 2nd annual Manky Toy Show. I can't see you, and I can't feel you, but I know you're there. I can hear you breathing – heavily. It sounds like millions of tiny 1s and 0s smacking into my ear-hole. A not entirely unpleasant sensation.
Anyway, tonight's spectacular promises (in the spirit of one-upmanship) to be bigger, better, looser & more improvised than last year's. A Super Persil Ultra Plus to 2007′s boring old Persil Ultra. Like last Christmas, I'm being ably assisted by the fabulous (and admirably diligent) Jess. Unlike last year, Jess's movements and behaviour are being controlled by a tiny, internal puppeteer – our (currently) unborn daughter. If Jess starts flipping out and acting weird(er) then blame the wee passenger. If I start flipping out and acting weird(er) then blame the booze.
Away we go.
9.05 – I say "admirably diligent" but when I went downstairs to get her a minute ago she was passed out fast asleep on the couch. You can't get the help…
9.08 – First up, one for the lovely ladies. No prizes for guessing the inspiration.
9.10 – No, it's not a My Little Pony your honour. Not by a long chalk. My client's product is clearly marked "Fascination of Pegasus".
9.12 – The chief (only?) attraction of this one is the name. Fascination of Pegasus – a fascination I'm sure we've all felt at one time or another. Jess is tearing open the packaging now and looking confused. "What's up?", I ask. "It's a bit skinny for a horse", says she.
A "horse"? Pchah! Nil pois for Jess in the mythology quiz. This is no horse – but the magnificent winged steed of the gods.
Actually…it is a little skinny…
9.17 – A curious feature of "Fascination of Pegasus" and all other My Little Pony knock-offs is that they imitate a product that is surely well past its sell by date. While I don't (honest!) loiter round the girl sections of local toy shops I was under the impression that the Pony phenomenon died out sometime back in the 90s. So why then do the Manky Manufacturers persist in, yes, flogging a dead horse?
9.23 – Jess also notes that one of the wings comes off rather easily. A crucial and critical design failure for a horse that soars through heaven's lofty firmament. Wouldn't fancy it landing on my head (or the bonnet of my car – if I had one), but I have to admit that (design issues aside) it has a strangely attractive face. For a winged horse.
9.27 – The sponsors are roaring commands in my ear-piece so we must now pause for a scheduled ad-break. From the wonder & magic of mystical (and plastical) Pegasus to the good ol' pastoral charms of a lactating cow. Moo!
9.33 – Ah, lovely Milky – with her preee-tend milk and her luscious lady lips. If you thought Pegasus was hot, this one's a ride altogether! The glee with which "young fella A" pumps her tail is perfectly understandable. If all cows were this attractive the days of lonely stalkers would, surely, be over.
9.36 – Commenter "Chimp" has this to say about the science of Milky:
What unknown substance converts water into “pretend milk�? Anthrax would be my guess…
Not entirely unfeasible. Back in the 70s Anthrax was available from even the most basic corner shop. They used to advertise it as a tonic against rickets.
9.40 – Jays, look at the time! My lovely assistant is fit for the bed already. Let's crack on. Toy number 2 please.
9.42 – Nothing like the glamour and sophistication of 007. And this is certainly nothing like the glamour and sophistication of 007. In fact, several of the objects list the agent as No. 707 – licence to look like a cross between Sean Penn & Nicholas Cage.
9.45 – Jess's verdict = A shamelessly wretched piece of mankiness. So bad they've lowered the price from the standard 2 Euro to a sub-standard 1.70. It's not wholly without its charms though. I mean, who could fail to be seduced and intrigued by "Passport of Universal"? I'm intrigued to see what's inside. What kind of magical diplomatic contents could allow the bearer to pass unhindered throughout the entire universe?
Answer: Blank grey cardboard…
Boo!
9.50 – A stern, but (as it turns out) wholly unnecessary warning, can be found at the foot of the box.
Do not use any bullets/darts/arrows or any other projectiles except those supplied with this toy.
Fine so, says I. Let's have a crack with the ammo supplied.
Oh wait. There isn't any. Bastards!
9.57 – The girls may be growing restless with all this man-nerd Bond talk, so let's turn to something pink, plastic and oozing class.
9.59 – I love the disconnect between the promise of Sweet Rita as seen on the box (smiling, magical, tiara-wearing princess) and the reality of what's inside. In Jess's words – "A sullen, trashy, balding whore with a missing thumb on her right hand".
10.05 – Commenter "Simon McGarr" offers this on Rita:
Sweet Rita may have Mentalist powers, betrayed by her distended forehead.
There could be a clue here alright. What if she once looked like the Sweet Rita the box promises? The Rita of smiles, regal waves, elegant balls etc. Through some unimaginably cruel and traumatic ordeal she has somehow been reduced to this lumpy-headed trash-queen we see before us. Trauma, stay with me, can often bring deeply buried powers to the fore(head). Are we now seeing a Rita who stalks the night like a mentalist vigilante wreaking havoc on all of mankind? Using the awesome powers of her extended (and demented) mind to…er…make leering men's cocks fall off…or something…
23.13 – Time for a) Another word from our sponsors, and, b) A quick slash (this Montepulciano D'Abruzzo is going through me like preee-tend milk).
10.18 – Sweet mother of suffering bestiality! That's not eating a Flake, that's inhaling it. One half expects a hot jet of molten Fry's Chocolate Cream to come squirting from the tip.
10.21 – Subtext? "Flake – The next best thing to sucking off a horse".
10.26 – An hour and a half (and the bone's of a bottle) in and it's time for our first super-duper-heroes.
10.28 – Manky Toy manufacturers have a genius for surfing the wave of the Zeitgeist. There's not a single cultural kiddie phenomenon that they fail to respond to with a flood of shit products. Within minutes of the recent Robert Downey Jr film hitting the screens you can bet a year's supply of preee-tend milk that the designers of Iron Storm were hard at work. I'm guessing (from experience) that the factories in question have thousands of generic, superhero/Power Rangers-esque body parts waiting for a crude paint job and a spot of opportune repackaging. A quick head change, a quick splash of the appropriate colour and "Bingo!" – you've got Iron Man, Spidey or whoever else the kiddies are currently going mental for.
10.32 – Like other mank before it, Iron Storm sets toy enthusiasts a very modest and manageable task.
Collect Them All? It seems like I just have! Hooray for me. Everyone's a winner.
One wonders if Golden Storm and Iron Storm have a relationship based on partnership and universe-saving, or if (instead) they're locked in an endless war of gouging, slicing and dicing antagonism. Who's the baddie? Is there a baddie?!
This ambiguity is messing with my head…
10.44 – At this point I though a musical interlude might have been in order. Something to soothe, relax and unwind you. Something to unfrazzle your nerve-ends and loosen your rigid neck muscles. Unfortunately the Digiboard 5000 has tones so maddeningly shrill and flat that exposure to them would make your ears leak torrents of pus and blood. I'll show you a pic though, and Jess will test it out (taking one for the team).
22.48 – Yes, the "Digital Display" is, in fact, a sticker. Yes, the abundant text promises a multitude of settings and a plethora of pre-set songs. No, the product doesn't live up to any of its promises…
The pre-set songs are all instantly recognisable classics.
Embrace.
In Metal.
Fluestr.
How Long Jordan.
Miss You.
Sensitive.
Medicine.
Miss you Rcality.
Hard to pick a favourite there.
22.55 – Fans of "How Long Jordan" may be surprised (and aggrieved) to discover that their beloved tune sounds suspiciously like "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" when given the Digiboard treatment. Likewise, the seminal "Miss you Rcality" has more than a touch of "There's No Place Like Home" about it. I think these anomalies may owe something to the fact that the instrument seems to be stuck on its "Rercussion" setting.
23.03 Sweet Rita's life may be one of skanky, big-headed misery but at least she doesn't have to suffer alone. She has a pal. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you (and please take her) the beautiful Candie.
23.09 – Jess's initial assessment of Candie's "style"? "Rural, shell-shocked, milkmaid slapper from the 80s". Meeow!
23.11 – With her special no-flatten tits (see comments), her come-hither lips, and her retro-chic sense of style you'd imagine that Candie would have the fake Action Men (i.e. Action Dans) lining up in their droves. If, however, even these abundant charms aren't enough she has a Ace up her sleeve (i.e. on her neck).
Her "Musical Blinking Necklace".
It has powers to soothe (or deafen) even the wildest beast.
23.19 – The pause between the tinny theme song from Love Story and the tinny whatever the fuck it was (Be not Afraid? Love me Tender?) is obviously the pause in which the potential suitor is saying, "Er, is that the time? I really must be going. I've got a big meeting tommor…"
Bleep, Bleep, Bleep! Bleep, Bleep, Bleep!
Bleep, Bleep, Bleep, Bleeeeeep, Bleep!
There's no escaping Candie once she's locked that blinking tractor beam onto you.
23.26 – Commenter "Embarr" helpfully tells us that we can learn how to play "Candie's Song" on the Digiboard here. The only mistake she makes is in assuming that the Digiboard functions in a manner that closely resembles a conventional keyboard. It really, really doesn't…
The black keys are purely ornamental. Actually, so are most of the white keys.
In a new and unexpected development, however, our cat has stamped all over the object and mashed the correct sequence to ensure "Happy Birthday to You" (or "In Metal" as it's better known) has come screeching out. Make it stop!
23.36 – A few final pieces of Candie goodness before we shove on. First – a warning. Despite her best attempts to convince us otherwise, it turns out that she's simply "not suitanble".
23.40 – Subject to technical change or change of [sic] color? What…after purchase?!
What we appear to have on our hands here is an adapting, evolving and mutating doll. I'm also intrigued as to what "possible correspondence" I could have with the relevant manufacturer. Dear China…
23.47 – Hang on a mo. One of our cats (the Digiboard smashing one) has puked and pissed on the floor. A combination of stress, cystitis and pure dementedness. I'll get me marigolds & a mop & be back.
00.01 – And we're back. I bet Pat Kenny's never had to break off mid-flow to mop up urine and vomit. Spoilt rotten that bastard is.
When I say, we're back, I mean – I'm back. Preggers McGeggers has had to call it a night and is now wrapped up in bed with an improving book.
No rest for the wicked. Let's carry on with our dis-improving mank. Where we? Ah yes, still on Candie! Jesus, she's dominating the night. Her power is matchless. One last pic before we (finally and mercifully) put her to sleep.
00.07 – There's something about the sweep of her hair and that teasingly exposed back (and I mean exposed – look at those batteries. Drool!) that gives the image an undeniable erotic charge. Countering this arousal are the grim words, "If her voice sounds weak…" – suggestive, as they are, of the slow fade-out into eternal silence that happens to us all. A moving moment. And a sobering one…needed after 3/4 of a bottle of plonk.
00.15 – Bye bye Candie, hello tonight's first piece of donated mank. As the donor (the absent Fergal Crehan. Where is he, the divil?) put it – "A toy so manky that it even has words like 'Terrible' and 'Horrible' plastered all over it". A rare display of honesty in an otherwise mendacious world. As it turns out, however, it's not 'arf bad.
00.22 – Before we even think of delving into the contents, just look at the box's exterior.
"Who's Played These Terrible Jokes On Me?"
That's not a young chap who's merely been the "victim" of a few harmless pranks that he can laugh off later. That's a broken young fella who's just had his self-esteem, his faith in mankind, and all hopes & dreams for the future utterly shattered.
He looks like he's been lured into believing (and the illusion must have been carefully built up over time) that the pranksters were his dearest friends. They loved him. They respected him.
It was all a lie! All a set-up for these cruel and brutal jokes. He's irreparably smashed…
00.31 – On to the contents (and I had to cheat a bit and open this earlier). Cue wide-eyed surprise and wild delight when these were the first things that fell out of the box.
The "must have" (but "never had"), lusted after and fetishised object of a childhood spent reading imported American comics. Mine at last!
Glad to see that "Wing Shing" are carrying on a fine tradition and brazenly over-selling their product.
Scientific Marvel of the Century
Controversial. I'd be tempted to bet against if we could gather the world's foremost scientists in my bedroom ("Watch out for that cat puke, Mr. Hawking") and put it to a vote.
00.47 – A "Snappy Gum" fandom seems to be forming itself in the comments section. Time to give the punters what they want.
2 points.
1) If you're going to try and trick an unsuspecting pal with "Snappy Gum" (and why wouldn't you? It's gas!) then try and avoid versions that actually have the word "Snappy" printed in big fat letters on the packaging. Tends to lessen the surprise.
2) Isn't "Wow, Wow" a rather curious reaction to finding one's finger trapped in a novelty gum packet?
00.55 "Embarr" is off I see. Darragh soon to depart? We're down to the die hards, and it's time to get hardcore. I'm going to offer myself a lovely piece of Winnie's Pure Mint Snappy Gum. Bring on the pain!
00.59 – The tension is unbearable. I'm teasing it out as slowly as I possibly can and remembering why I hated these yokes as a child. That horrible sense of something sudden, jolting, painful and unpleasant about to happen. I'm downing a goodly swig of vino to steel my nerves.
As I do so I can't help but be amused by the instructions on the box's rear.
Serve your friend the item & ask him to take the gum himself.
This is obviously designed to help slow-witted pranksters avoid inflicting the intended damage on themselves.
"Fancy a chewing gum?"
"Don't mind if I do. Give us one"
"Sure, here you are. AAAHHHHH!!!"
01.05 – Kabang! As with all such things (well, apart from getting shot etc) the expectation was far worse than the eventuality. No pain at all. The spring mechanism is well-cushioned and child-proofed. I'm mildly impressed, and half-tempted to cry "Wow" (once only).
01.11 – Next, the never-popular "Fly & Spider".
No instructions on this one. What's the story? Are you supposed to sprinkle the little fellas on your Dad's steak (and sit back to watch the hilarity, or savage beating, unfold)? It's unclear…especially because the elderly gent pictured seems to be rather enjoying the fact that his meat is teeming with insect/arachnid life.
01.17 – Well into overtime now so we'd best leave the fake (pretzel-shaped) poos for another day. Just looking again at the packaging for the "X-Ray Gogs". Imagine they did actually work? The kid who's so thrillingly looking at the bones of his own hand would soon find himself riddled with cancer.
"I jus' wanted ta see the bones in my own hand, Doc. Just once. And then I couldn't stop!"
"You're a very sick boy now, Jimmy, and you're almost certainly going to die…"
[tearfully] "It was worth it, Doc! I saw my pal Joey's sister's undies through her dress! I'm ready to die now, Doc!"
1.33 – Perfect timing. The last sup of vino tinto has been gulped down (*hic*), the last of the stragglers are winding their weary ways toward their comfy beds, and the last of my energy has disappeared into the December ether. Time to pack up, put things back in boxes (tomorrow…) and say goodnight (blowing farewell kisses of joy and love as I do so).
The "Winter Wonderland Girls" will take us away to the black 'n' white (and endlessly chipper) land of nod.
[Curtains Close]
*clap* *clap*
*makes that hoo hoo noise*
Virtually applauding.
I add to the virtual applause. Is that Mexican threatening Santa with a hairdryer?
No chimp. ‘Tis a Martian. From “Satan vs. The Martians”. Isn’t it obvious?>
Debbie Magee was never pregnant when she ably assisted the midget Daniels. Bet she didn’t fall asleep before a big show either. What would Debbie think?
Ooh! Fantastic Pegasus! Fly my pretty, fly!
Toy one : Perfect for ride the fire pony days.
I just popped in to shout out a Brian Blessed-style “Hurrah!” for this year’s show, but as family have called around (the swine!) I’m otherwise engaged. I look forward to seeing the delights tomorrow. And away I go…
Query: Your little winged mythical horse comes with two plastic combs. But it seems that it is not equipped with any hair.
Explanations sought.
It was a strongly held belief in the US in the 1960′s that Mars was populated entirely by Mexicans… and pink ponys of course…
I find the orangey wings strangely hypnotic. Do they move?
“My Little Pony
Skinny and Boney
Made from Elastic
Covered in Plastic”
Simon, It was tied back in a band. She actually has a lovely flowing mane – the likes of which requires a minimum of two plastic combs.
It does have a lovely purple mane and tail, but the brush makes it a) static and b) fall out.
One to be held in each front hoof. Like a Teddy boy with flick-combs
isn’t the pink comb actually a mirror?
It is indeed a lovely mirror, but it appears to be designed to not let you see yourself, no matter how hard you try.
Oh and a shout out to all present. I’m a tad busy, but I’ll attend to you all presently. Oh yes.
Fairly strong comeback for MLP in 2007, but yes, on the wane again now.
If memory serves, Pegasus was the steed of Perseus.
I think he may have slayed the Chimera with bolts of static electricity from those beautiful flowing locks.
A comb and a mirror together in one… Isn’t that kind of useless?
Alexia – the wings not only don’t move – one of them won’t stick on at all, no matter how hard I try.
There will always be a market for pink ponies with lovely lovely hair.
Ones with plasti-jel wings are just unstoppable.
Ah but the 60′s are fashionable again (recession chic). Oh no. Half my wardrobe is in style again! Must. Get. Shoulderpads.
Chimp – yes, especially as Pegasus has no opposable thumbs to hold her mirror and comb.
Fustar, I hear that jumbo jets can fly with one engine, do you think that ponies can similarly fly with one wing?
Chimp, I wouldn’t like to be the pegasus rider to find out!
Wikipedia tells me that Freud said that Pegasus was a symbol for Primalism. I am not sure if our Bearded Austrian knew that they came with their own hairbrushes.
What unknown substance converts water into “pretend milk”? Anthrax would be my guess…
I thought he was telling me that it was pre-tinned milk. That left me with some worries as to where the water was going to come out.
*Ingestion of milk may lead to insatiable itching of the genitals.
“Passport of Universal” if its a reference to Universal Exports, someone knows their Bond history
Obviously, you can’t travel with your real secret service number, 007, printed on the cover of your passport.
You need to change it ever so slightly to 707. They’ll never see though that one.
Ah 707 that’s just to put people off. You don’t want people to know your a secret agent! Does anyone know if its a legislative requirement in Ireland to have a red bit at the front of every plastic gun, to prevent mischievous anti-social youths from holding up the local sweet shop?
By the way, the tinsel is very effective in projecting the Christmas morning mixed feelings of unwrapping a Top Mission of your own.
Chimp, I’m pretty sure that the red bit represents the dynamic BANG effect of a firing gun, captured for all time in physical form.
“Answer: Blank grey cardboard…”
Pfft. Clearly a sheet of Doctor Who’s psychic paper.
Just noticed the acronym “B.C.I.C” at the bottom of the package, which I’m reliably informed by http://acronyms.thefreedictionary.com means “Breast Cancer Information Clearinghouse” or “Border Crossing Identification Card”.
Yes, Will. It’s clearly a labour of love alright.
It actually represents the “Noo!” effect of absent ammo.
This toy reeks of hours of research.
Sweet Rita.
Sweet Jesus!
I demand you test it’s authenticity as a manky toy and see if her boobs collapse with pressure and stay collapsed. That’s what happened to all my pound shop dolls!
I’d like to see Sweet Rita and Fascinating Pegasus in a Static Charged duel to the death, filled with crackling blue lightning bolts of death.
I think I’ve got a static shock from the picture alone. That is an uncommonly large forehead
Sweet Rita may have Mentalist powers, betrayed by her distended forehead.
She’s on the case! Squashing tits as I type!
I’m jealous of your tinsel. I got a “look” and a very snooty “we didn’t get any in this year” answer to my tinsel questioning in Dunnes yesterday. Celtic Cubs are apparently too posh for tinsel.
Embarr – yes, she now has fetching inverted nipples. No wonder she’s so pissed off.
RESULT!! I’m glad to see that some things haven’t changed. Barbie’s tits never collapse, no siree
I regret not getting my manky toy submission in the post to you in time… it is priceless… as in there is no economic price at which the massive supply can sate the negligible demand….
’twas a toy gun. That says “FIRE” when you pull the trigger. Simon… feel free to elaborate.
A masterpiece of mankytoy homage Fustar, and especially well done to Jess-and-a-half.
Barbie’s tits are clearly filled with some terrible cosmetic enhancement goo.
Sweet Rita is forced to fall back on what little her Chinese gods gave her.
Thanks Daragh – mini-fustar is currently kicking like mad. I think she’s concerned she’ll only get manky toys for Christmas.
I have partaken of this gun. It is a bit mind boggling. You pull the trigger, and a Mid-Atlantic voice shouts “Fire!”
But, they could have just had the sound of an actual shooty bang. Its only a step away to going to the trouble to record a man shouting BANG.
Maybe the static from Sweet Rita’s dress is giving her a shock too? Either that or she’s appalled at the bad taste that puts that shrug with that dress.
Word Press is judging me
Jess – Sher half of Limerick twill be getting manky toys this Christmas. If you never give her anything good she’ll never know the difference.
Embarr, that’s nothing. WordPress just told me I’m too fat and have stupid hair.
I’ve just realised what is so creepy about her face. It isn’t just her Botox-plasticised upper face.
It is the fact that she has no nose.
Chimp – I’m yet to find a manky toy suitable for under 3 year olds. Maybe next year we can hold a baby manky toy show…
Re ad;
That’s a very suspicious lump in the front of her trousers….I’d be having a quiet word with the horse.
Thinks: If only my horse’s cock was made of chocolate.
Splutter!
Horses, flakes, distended foreheads. What more could a woman want..
What a perfect and unique place to join the show…
Welcome, Darragh No. 2.
I don’t mean that in the “poo” sense…
Flakes aren’t worth the hassle.. You have to limbo over to the nearest bin to empty half the contents out of the folds of your jumper once you finished.
Chimp.
Pfft. I say it again, because that’s what you deserve. A skilled flake eater leaves no crumbs whatsoever. Instead the neck is angled and the mouth held agape so that as each biter is gingerly applied by the front teeth the bits escaping fall down onto the tongue.
I do like the fact that the passport is a “Passport of Universal”… guaranteed to get you on all the roller coasters in certain theme parks.
And in those movie themed theme parks you will possibly meet Nicole Kidman, who would seem to be Rita’s antipodean cousin. High plasticy foreheads lacking expression must run in the family.
WordPress is showing its age and getting very pass remarkable.
Simon, You had me blushing there. It all sounds fierce durty…
I’m confused. If our Iron Manish is on the left who does that make the guy on the right?
Iron Filings?
Chimp, the secret of eating a flake cleanly is to suck with every mouthful.
Yes, that IS what it sound slike
Daragh, I was struck by the Kidman/Rita resemblance as one of her Lurhman ads for Chanel came on the telly.
“I’m a Dancer! I love to Dance!”
-Get off my roof.
I’m with Simon on this. Unbox unbox and let’s see who’s who? Do they fight? Are they brothers? Are those ninja stars above the figure on the right? Are they playing lacrosse?
Iron storm comes with a little executioners hood. how sweet
I fancy my chances against Iron Filings. His helmet has no eye slots.
So…. because she inhaled a big chocolate bar she can go horseriding. What’s next? Roller skating or hang-gliding?
“Ohhh Flakey-form, flakeyformed for yoooooooouuuuu.”
Darragh with two Rs is right. The lacrosse/scythe question must be answered.
Ahh they’re claws! Claws for golden storm. Damn it. I thought they were going for a niche target audience of wealthy children who would identify with the use of such weaponry.
Jess unboxed but had little to say other than sneering at the contents. The question of the precise nature of their relationship is one that will, I’m afraid, addle the finest minds for decades.
This is a toy that asks serious questions of our certainties RE: good & evil.
Further query: Where is Iron Storm? Only his precious metal relatives seem to be provided.
A toy that doesn’t reflect the dualism of Good and Evil? Rather it attempts to represent competing interests on their own terms. Like an immortal, violent conflict over who’s better- Gold or Silver.
Iron Storm has given me an image of a bunch of metallic superhero types hanging around a Fás office looking for hero-type work.
Hero: “Any metallic-hero gigs?”
Fas:”Yes, but only for hard-metal, preferably with a decent carbon content”
Hero:”Arse. I’m made of gold. What a crock. I’ll have to go pawn my legs to put the dinner on the table for the childer.”
Fas:”Can you fly? We’re looking for alternatives to first class travel -’Gold Standard’ might work”.
Hero: “ehhh… no, thanks. I’ve got me pride”.
Aha! Maybe collecting them all isn’t as easy as I made it out to be. Or maybe Iron Storm doesn’t actually exist – except as a force within the minds of all life-forms…
Simon – Everyone knows if you combine gold and silver you get iron. Although im not sure many people do these days…
@Simon: Who’s better between gold and silver? Sure isn’t the taking part what counts. Unless you’ve got bronze. Bronze sucks.
Examining their respective weaponry a bit closer. Silver Storm has two sticks.
Golden Storm has eight claws repurposed from an old Wolverine-alike. And a kind of death hook.
My money’s on gold this time.
NOOOOO…. in the word of Biggles in Biggles the Movie “My god, they’ve invented a sound weapon”.
And that’s not a weapon you’d have a few pints and a watch of the football with.
I’m with you on this. Can I request any of
* Embrace In Metal
* Sensitive Medicine, or
* How Long Jordan
in Funnysynth or Elecynthe or even Cosmic Tone to a Habanera rhythm or a Big Band beat, please?
Damn it! Now I know I’m old. I had no clue who Chris Brown was earlier in the week and now you’ve confirmed my musical taste is in the toilet. :(
Darragh’s choices are impeccable.
We’ve all loved Sensitive Medicine in our school days. But to hear it in Cosmic Tone would be magic.
Embrace in Metal is probably the theme song for Iron Storm.
Rita looks strangely melancholic, like a regretful bulimic..
Only at the end of their eternity of warring will Gold Storm and Silver Storm Embrace in Metal. The stars will have cooled, and the Black Holes will have spread. And a tiny chorus of super evolved beings says – is that not Hickory Dickory Dock?
Go on.. press the necklace… UNBOX!
TIT TEST! TIT TEST!
At least she is better dressed this time.
“Press my necklace. Listen to music!”
OMG I hope she plays How Long Jordan. In elecguitar!
11.5 inches and her necklace flashes. I may be in love.
Ok, we’ve met Candie now. And there’s no nice way to ask. Are her bandy legs on backwards?
Embarr – she has rock-solid Barbie tits!
I was thinking Tit test, but thought it inappropriate for me to shout for it with zeal.
But, now that embarr has started the ball rolling… TIT TEST.
*SHOCK* I’m impressed. How much was she?
I’m pleased to hear that Candie is plasticly pert. Are her legs backwards?
Sweet Rita and Candie must go to the same chartbusters for that tan. There’s a distinctive shiny leg treatment going on there.
Is Candie wearing TWO necklaces or is that some sort of funky top holder upper she’s sporting around her neck as well?
She’s far superior to Sweet Rita, I’m actually quite impressed. Though her necklace appears to be tattooed to her skin.
Her hair is much better and her forehead is in proportion
Chartbusters? It isn’t that classy. More like the garden section of B&Q when they’re testing the spray guns for putting creosote on fences.
She does have very shiny legs.
@embarr… so Candie isn’t related to Nicole Kidman then. How fortunate.
I see with my eagle eye that there is a sticker saying that Candie was proudly brought into the country by Jessica Traders. Jess, are you responsible.
She’s a bit like Earl’s ex wife in My Name is Earl
An Aside: John Waters has written another song. And he’s got Sinead O’Connor to sing it on the Late Late for him.
I’m crying as you write that (Simon)
There’s a new Euro shop in Limerick called ‘Jessica’s’. I’m so proud.
OK suddenly Candie doesn’t seem like such a catch. Her necklace betrays she is mad as spoons. It plays Windmills in My Mind when pressed.
My Ears, My Beautiful Ears
Is that a person or a company? Sounds a bit like an uptight Waspish porn star.
an aside: If waters was minister for justice he’d ban any songs with the word ‘Baby’ in them unless the song is about an infant.
Oh my God, Candie, what are you doing? Seriously, I could take the worst poly-ringtone over that any day!
Jess… I’ve accidentally left Water’s drivel song on the telly… Candie’s Windmills in your Mind is infinitely preferable.
My god…he’s written a sound weapon.
Here quick, learn how to play Candie’s song on the Digiboard
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbd_DOIvRhc&feature=related
This may be evil, but I think Candie works on customer service phone calls, and uses her necklace as hold music
That’s where I’ve seen Candie before. Either that or on the RyanAir checkin desk asking me if I’ve packed the back meself. (no, I’ve a slave to do that for me).
More Toy!
You want the toy? You can’t handle the toy! I doubt your toy handling ability.
Unexpected combinations of words like these are what The Manky Toy Show is all about!
They’re coming. A bit more sweet Candie first.
In a lovely symmetry, a woman from Limerick has just won the big prize on the Late Late Show.
I want something manly this time, with lots of explosive power!
Gwan Limerick! We’re the kings ‘n’ queens of Friday night.
Token black keys. Living in perfect static harmony with the token white keys. Side by side on my Digiboard keyboard.
Oh lord.
Careful, Waters will be writing a song about it next.
future Correspondence? Who will be writing to who in this? And why will they need to refer to a little red square?
I *knew* that was fake tan!! You could tell from the shine!
Fooock. And warbler O’Connor will sing about it. And Pat the plank will say it is the best thing since the bestest thing ever.
And people will be ear-raped in the song’s fight for air time.
Crap.
What I have I done?
It’s an obvious typo… she is not sur tan able… she is not capable of being under a tan.
And her box is obviously made of psychic paper.
And I’ve only just noticed the perverted innuendo in what I just wrote…
ooops.
See, I told you the Digiboard was a sound weapon. That’s exactly what happened to the victims of the sound weapon in Biggles the Movie.
The whole last half of the movie was taken up with Biggles looking for some rubber gloves and trying to get Ginger or Algy to actually mop up the mess.
Cat astrophe
Oh no, poor Feline Fustar! I reckon it was Candie’s death ray
Simon… you’re barred. I thought it, I typed it, but I refrained from hitting submit.
Every cats a critic. (I bet the cat will try to attack the horse with wings behind their back)
I have such little self control. I’m surprised I wasn’t eating a doughnut as I pressed submit.
hmmm doughnuts…
Just re-reading Candie’s warning. I think we’re in the clear. It only applies in GB.
That Candie outfit is far nicer than the one in the box. Also she now resemble the Borg.
Folks, hate to love you and leave you so I’ll just leave you. Fústar and Jess, you legends, thanks for this. Great fun. Goodnight all!
Pat Kenny had to go to a break tonight because Richard Corrigan shoved a pancake with smoked salmon & caviar on it into his mouth.
3 AG13 batteries? Im not sure you can pick those up at the local spar.
No Fustar. Pat Kenny never did present Live at Three.
Night, Darragh. May your dreams be filled with screechy “music” and the piercing stare of Sweet Rita. Have a glass of preee-tend milk and get yourself to bed.
Chimp,
Given the sort of military hardware you can pick up on a street corner in Limerick, a set of AG13 batteries (as used in the coffee cup heater in the Stealth Fighter) should be a doddle.
You can if you live in Beijing.
They do look like teeth coming from her back. Sings: have you heard of poor Candie on the back of her (er..) back is another face…
Is there a fake dog poo in that box o’tricks?
Would that freak out your cat if you hid it under them?
There’s something desperately sad about the way the man is so shocked at the trick players.
Snap!
I dont understand why hes so aggrieved as the jokes (car scratches, window smashing etc.) seem clearly aimed at fooling parents. Oh no my dads car is scratched. Argghhh!
Id be keen to see the snappy gum in action if possible…
Do they really run A-Z?
He looks like GW Bush finding out that waterboarding actually is torture.
Ah, snappy gum. A favourite of mine as a child. That and the fake smokes. My dad used to whiten his finger, put red dye on it and stick it in a match box filled with cotton wool and tell people he’d cut his finger off and was going to the hospital. Whatever way he held his hands, he was often believed.
Yep, we were that annoying joke playing family. If only I’d known what trauma my actions would have brought to unsuspecting prankees…
What is the Z prank? Zoological stampede prank?
Most of the kids ye pranked can probably now be found as inmates of the state’s mental hospitals and correctional facilities.
At least ye had fun though!
I think fake cigarettes kept Irish joke shops going through the 80′s. They probably have fallen a bit by the wayside with the anti smoking lobby. Sad really.
They had talcum powder for smoke. They were so shit but such fun. I think Whoopee Cushions were best of all though. Is there a Whoopee Cushion?
He’s obviously one of those over-sensitive worriers who found childhood to be a time of unpleasant chaos and unacceptable horse-play.
“No lads, don’t egg that front door! The yolk will react with the paint and cause superficial damage…eventually….if left untreated!”
Nope. But there’s other good shit. Literally. Hang on.
Fustar – have you tried looking inside you cat with the specs to see whats wrong?
So, I assume you have put the x-ray specs on and have either diagnosed the cat’s alimentary ailments or have stubbed your toe due to the fact that your home must be made of lead because the x-ray specs don’t work.
Which?
It is with great sadness that I must drag myself to bed. Small boys wait for no Manky Toy Show and 6am is the waking hour of choice these days.
Brilliant night, Fustar & Jess! Thanks so much, you guys rock
I would recommend caution when using x-ray specks as although you can see through objects, like doors and cats, they still remain solid in the real world.. so watch where your walking.
I must away soon as well to collect wifey from Christmas Party… will hang in as long as I can.
Night night embarr.
Ah….can’t step away from laptop. It’s all about how you place your fingers in the offering and the distraction you provide.
Right… the prize for inadvertent smuttyness goes to embarr.
You’ll be cursing us, Embarr, when you’ve dem bags under your eyes in the early, early morn.
Does the snappy gum inflict a reasonable level of pain?
@ El Primo – EW!
@Fustar – I think I’ll just make the already sleeping Simon get up…heh heh. He still owes me for the stag weekend.
Yes die hards still hanging in there.. Goodnight to those departing.
Up to 180 comments now.. If there’s a “most commented on post” award in next years blog awards you’ll be a shoe in.
Embarr… your words. My sick mind.
Where’s the toys?
That was the best bit. Like the tension knot you get when reading horror.
Yeah…a shoe in the hole! Like every year!
Bloody lawyers… ruining the snappy gum for us all.
Bring the joke kit next time and get them all back. It’ll be just like that scene in Carrie.
Daragh – Its those pesky feckers of at the European Union who are to blame. Ireland recently adopted their new snappy gum regulations.. Killing our fun.
Was it good for you? :)
He’s obviously got high cholesterol and can’t face the half a cow on his plate, but still craves protein.
Bear Grylls has a lot to answer for.
Chimp,
Don’t tell Declan Ganley about the snappy gum then. He’ll only use it as another argument for evil europe.
(boo hiss)
Yes! Exhaustion and mild-drunkenness, and radiation poisoning (Thanks X-Ray Gogs!) aside I had (am having) a fine ol’ time.
So, the two vignettes I’m taking away to sleepsville are:
and
7 more comments and Fustar will break the 200 on this Manky Toy Show….
Everyone say good night at least twice.
Daragh, You have learned much my child. The world will now open it’s mysteries to you. It’s secrets laid bare like a hand (or some tits) seen through X-Ray Gogs.
Thanks Fustar and Jess… keep up the mank work… Goodnight to you. To bed I will be taking:
1: new knowledge on how to effectively eat a flake (ill buy one tomorrow and try it out); and
2: the haunting music of Candie.. sweet Candie
A bit of music to see us off I think.
I will track down my manky toy gun and send it to you.. you’ll love it. When it goes into semi-automatic mode the poor thing develops a bad stammer.
f-f-f-f-f-f-f-ire.
It is also yellow and pink.
I might also get one for bill cullen to make the next series of the Apprentice a bit more light hearted.
Bill: “You’re shit and lazy… Your..” (taking gun from pocket, bill pulls the trigger..)
[FIRE] (sayeth the gun).
Bill: …”d”
Night all. Must away now.
Yes goodnight then..
200… huzzah.
Crappy Histmas to you all.
The Winter Wonderland Girls also run on 3 AG13 batteries each.
A little known fact.
Night all – he said dragging the arse out of the farewells.
No, really. This is it.
I’m off.
Lights out.
Turning the key.
Thanks, you’ve all been swell.
I fell asleep! What did I miss?
You’re a born showman, Fustar !!
+ you keep alive the tradition of Irish verbal wit !!
I’m only at 9:08, so I have over 4 more hours to go.
Not much. Some toys. Cats urinating on the floor. That kind of thing.
By the way, I’ve noticed that the comments are 1 hour behind the actual show entries! This has less to with the slow response times of commenters and more to do with me failing to update my blog’s settings.
Bear that in mind before attempting any cross-referenced reading.
We’re recovering from our exertions last night by painting, cleaning, rearranging the house from top to bottom etc. I need a strong glass of pretend milk to raise my flagging spirits…
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Sexiest battery exposure shot ever
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