One foggy Tuesday morning, Roy Walker, who'd just "put his foot in it" by forgetting his own catchphrase on live television, wandered into a dingy pub in Manchester. Across the bar, he spotted a familiar face, albeit metallic and pixelated - his old pal, Mr Chips. Mr Chips was nursing a pint, looking like he'd had to "pay through his nose" to get it. Mr Chips, the robotic cartoon, had "one track mind" and was muttering to himself, something about "Take that!" while watching old re-runs of "The Pirates of Penzance." It was odd seeing a robot so transfixed by 19th-century operettas, but Roy decided to join him anyway. Over drinks, they talked about life and the recent "Channel Crossing" they had both taken - a strange voyage filled with phantasmal images of the "Swinging 60s" where Mr Chips had been mistaken for a "ginger nut" biscuit and Roy for a 60s relic. The whole trip left a bitter aftertaste, like the barmaid's "bad breath." The two were "within spitting distance" of the old comedy club Roy used to frequent, so they decided to pop by. Roy thought he’d try out his “stand-up comic” routine one last time, aiming to remind the world that he wasn’t just a forgotten game show host. To his dismay, the "upper crust" of society who now attended the club had no interest in his puns or catchphrases. “Just as well,” he muttered. Mr Chips, usually "larger than life," urged Roy to "stick to your guns." The barman offered them "a twist of lemon" with their drinks, and Roy, confused, thanked him with a shaky hand. Mr Chips, however, whispered, “Don’t trust him, Roy. He speaks with a forked tongue.” Roy shrugged it off, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Outside, a homeless man muttered he was "poor as a church mouse," and Mr Chips handed him his only coin, saying, "Mark my words, Roy - kindness matters." They continued on their night out, somehow winding up at "Canary Wharf" after hopping on a night bus that felt as strange and distant as the "man in the moon." Somewhere along the way, Roy had "a slip of the tongue," mistakenly ordering them tickets to "The Dead Sea" instead of Dead Disco, a local club. Their misadventure continued, ending in a dark, damp alley where Roy, in a fit of exhaustion, wrapped himself in an old "sleeping bag" he found. Mr Chips, feeling sentimental, played a melody on a "music box" he kept in his chest. They huddled together, sharing memories of their days on TV when they were both “the salt of the earth.” As dawn broke, they sat in silence, sipping stale coffee, and listened to a distant voice on the radio calling for everyone to "give peace a chance." Mr Chips reached out his rusty arm, presenting Roy with the strange sight of a "horn of plenty" he’d been carrying all night. Roy, groggy and puzzled, couldn't fathom where Mr Chips got it or why he had it at all. Their final destination, it turned out, was a grim realization: both were set to "break an appointment" with a brighter future. Roy sighed, “Should have gone on that 'stag night' years ago, Chips.” Chips chirped back, “We made it this far 'on a wing and a prayer,' Roy. Remember, you were the 'chief cook and bottle-washer' of this duo." With that, they stumbled upon an old, abandoned "theme park." Mr Chips laughed dryly, “This place is like us, Roy - a ‘cheap skate’ showbiz attraction.” Roy chuckled, feeling like "a square peg in a round hole" in the garish ruins of the place. “You know, Chips, they say, 'never say never,' but I think we’ve reached our end of the line.” As if fate was listening, a decrepit "Dream Ticket" booth creaked open, revealing three ancient performers in tattered robes. “The 'Three Degrees,'” Roy whispered in awe. He had seen them in his youth. The trio simply bowed their heads, letting the finality sink in. With one last sigh, Roy knew their journey, surreal as it was, had come to a close. They were both artifacts of a past now barely remembered, destined to fade into the backdrop of a world that had moved on without them.
One foggy Tuesday morning, Roy Walker, who'd just "put his foot in it" by forgetting his own catchphrase on live television, wandered into a dingy pub in Manchester. Across the bar, he spotted a familiar face, albeit metallic and pixelated - his old pal, Mr Chips. Mr Chips was nursing a pint, looking like he'd had to "pay through his nose" to get it.
Mr Chips, the robotic cartoon, had "one track mind" and was muttering to himself, something about "Take that!" while watching old re-runs of "The Pirates of Penzance." It was odd seeing a robot so transfixed by 19th-century operettas, but Roy decided to join him anyway.
Over drinks, they talked about life and the recent "Channel Crossing" they had both taken - a strange voyage filled with phantasmal images of the "Swinging 60s" where Mr Chips had been mistaken for a "ginger nut" biscuit and Roy for a 60s relic. The whole trip left a bitter aftertaste, like the barmaid's "bad breath."
The two were "within spitting distance" of the old comedy club Roy used to frequent, so they decided to pop by. Roy thought he’d try out his “stand-up comic” routine one last time, aiming to remind the world that he wasn’t just a forgotten game show host. To his dismay, the "upper crust" of society who now attended the club had no interest in his puns or catchphrases. “Just as well,” he muttered. Mr Chips, usually "larger than life," urged Roy to "stick to your guns."
The barman offered them "a twist of lemon" with their drinks, and Roy, confused, thanked him with a shaky hand. Mr Chips, however, whispered, “Don’t trust him, Roy. He speaks with a forked tongue.” Roy shrugged it off, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Outside, a homeless man muttered he was "poor as a church mouse," and Mr Chips handed him his only coin, saying, "Mark my words, Roy - kindness matters."
They continued on their night out, somehow winding up at "Canary Wharf" after hopping on a night bus that felt as strange and distant as the "man in the moon." Somewhere along the way, Roy had "a slip of the tongue," mistakenly ordering them tickets to "The Dead Sea" instead of Dead Disco, a local club.
Their misadventure continued, ending in a dark, damp alley where Roy, in a fit of exhaustion, wrapped himself in an old "sleeping bag" he found. Mr Chips, feeling sentimental, played a melody on a "music box" he kept in his chest. They huddled together, sharing memories of their days on TV when they were both “the salt of the earth.”
As dawn broke, they sat in silence, sipping stale coffee, and listened to a distant voice on the radio calling for everyone to "give peace a chance." Mr Chips reached out his rusty arm, presenting Roy with the strange sight of a "horn of plenty" he’d been carrying all night. Roy, groggy and puzzled, couldn't fathom where Mr Chips got it or why he had it at all.
Their final destination, it turned out, was a grim realization: both were set to "break an appointment" with a brighter future. Roy sighed, “Should have gone on that 'stag night' years ago, Chips.” Chips chirped back, “We made it this far 'on a wing and a prayer,' Roy. Remember, you were the 'chief cook and bottle-washer' of this duo."
With that, they stumbled upon an old, abandoned "theme park." Mr Chips laughed dryly, “This place is like us, Roy - a ‘cheap skate’ showbiz attraction.” Roy chuckled, feeling like "a square peg in a round hole" in the garish ruins of the place. “You know, Chips, they say, 'never say never,' but I think we’ve reached our end of the line.”
As if fate was listening, a decrepit "Dream Ticket" booth creaked open, revealing three ancient performers in tattered robes. “The 'Three Degrees,'” Roy whispered in awe. He had seen them in his youth. The trio simply bowed their heads, letting the finality sink in.
With one last sigh, Roy knew their journey, surreal as it was, had come to a close. They were both artifacts of a past now barely remembered, destined to fade into the backdrop of a world that had moved on without them.
Watched the modern version and absolutely slayed almost all. This i only got a few.
My favourite part is where they guess the catchphrases! ❤
… and where Stephen temporarily shape shifts into his true form 14:45
My favourite part is where Mr Chips gobs all over the floor 💦 8:46
9:01 Theresa's "Stepping in puddles" 15:11 "Hot dog" and 16:16 "Potato Eyes"
3:55 Bell sound
Thanks
15:57
24:24
Courtesy of ITV Carlton Television And Action Time Productions
Thanks.
The only real life Theresa I knew went by the name Teasy.
😊
U.
U.