Scheduling Nightmares

With our favourite holy evening TV schedules clutched tightly to our chests we made our way down the slow twisting corridor towards the place where we’d heard the most hideous screaming and screeching. It seemed obvious somewhere down there someone was in great pain, somewhere behind one of these many doors someone must be undergoing some of the worst torture seen in this land since the last time some cruel TV producer had summoned up the courage to inflict Janet Street-Porter onto some poor unsuspecting audience.

We could only hope it was not that she-devil who was inflicting herself and her banal ‘opinions’ on some poor victim, for then we knew we could do little to save the soul who’s torment could have by now gone far beyond the tender limits of sanity and beyond even our abilities for rescue.

Down this corridor we knew, though, that the devils and demons responsible for the creation of reality TV lurked, planning and scheming to bring even more evil into the lives of poor innocent TV viewers with their many versions of the levels of hell inflicted on the poor captive TV audience, condemned to suffer such pains and indignations all in the name of their most foul of holies – the viewing figures.

Then we can to the door, behind which we could hear that terrible wailing, screaming and caterwauling, and then we knew that we were too late, for on that door was a hastily-scrawled sign that showed those in the room were beyond all redemption, for that sign warned everyone about to enter that beyond that door were the dread auditions for the latest TV talent show singers.

Turning in horror we ran, hoping – hope against hope – that we were not too late to catch the last bus heading for the hills.