Corrie!


"In, oot, shake it all aboot"

Hayley used to be a man. Now she's a woman thanks to modern science and "We can split the hotdog!" advances.
She's married to Roy, who likes trains, and they're very happy.
Now baconstrips-Hayley has discovered that hotdog-Hayley schtupped someone 25 years ago and hotdog-Hayley hit a home run!
Yes indeedy, some poor schmuck is out there in soapland who would have to hold his hands up to "Yer Ma is yer Da".
Now baconstrips-Hayley is trying to explain this to Roy, but Roy is finding it all a bit much since he doesn't like to think about hotdog-Hayley.
The intrigue!



"If aaaah wurr predditor, aaah'd see a triangle taahget on yo forred"

Last year, David Platt was a troublesome little tyke. He gave the odd bit of lip and pulled his sister's hair.
Oh, and his mother's mad hubby tried to kill him along with everyone else.
Then one of the Corrie scriptwriters went out and drank nine frozen margheritas and six pints of Carlsberg export and woke up face-down in a carton of cheesy garlic fries.
The ensuing hangover would see him ink a new plot where David murders every living thing in the street.
But how to get from troublesome tyke to homicidal maniac? DUH, VIDEO GAMES STUPID.
Video games turn innocent little bunnies into wall-eyed, public transport-frotting, fiddy cent-listening wackjobs.
So David currently spends his free time playing BUNNYHUNT and SHITCAN-A-GRAN, cackling maniacally.


Eastenders!


"Must...hold onto....ground"

Phil has a drink problem. He has two hands and only one mouth, ha ha.
This genetic deficiency is tragic enough, but his hands are normally busy slapping and punching and his head is just too fat for one of these:



What's a man to do? Phil's woes don't stop there. He recently tried to claim responsibility for shoving his bride-to-be off the roof of a derelict warehouse. Only a CCTV camera saved him - you know, the ones they keep on top of derelict warehouses for just such an occasion. Ah, the demon drink. Sorry, this all happened while Phil was on the wagon. Things can only get zanier as he spends each week tearing pie-eyed round Albert square.



"One day, a rain will come...and mess up my quiff yeah?"

Sean Slater is a bad boy. He recently got turfed in jail for sending pictures of his cock to a model. But he was framed! They were pictures of someone else's cock. Now Sean's out and he's looking for vengeance. In soap terms, this means you get to skulk around the set not saying much, pretending you're Travis Bickle.


Fair City!


"You smell Russian...you'll do"

Leo's wife has disappeared, and Leo's pissed. She's Russian, you see, and likely to have come to some harm. Police have been less than helpful; she was last spotted staggering up Grafton street trying to prise Barry Egan's tongue from her arse. After that, nothing. Leo's frantic and spends every episode dashing from here to there, putting up posters and checking Russian Bride websites. No-one knows what Leo will do. I hope they buy him an XBox and start him playing Gears of War.



"You still smell of altar wine"

Sorry, wrong wackjob. Pierce is an ex-homeless novel-writing bartender who claims that a successful writer has lifted his idea for a book. Ka-ching! Give him the console and shoot-em-ups. Hopefully he won't crack at the same time as Leo or the bodycount mightn't be as high.