It was a Sunday. Bret hated Sundays! There was never anything to do on a Sunday. No telly, no food, no alien races to wipe out, no ex-wives to run away from, no nothing. Sundays were boring. So he went to sleep.
On Wednesday Bret awoke and decided to watch some television. There was always some incredibly trashy television to watch late at night on ITV and Channel 4. After watching:
“Invasion of the Zombie Rats from Andromeda And Their Subsequent Trials And Tribulations In New York What With Them Looking Like Giant Rodents Who Just Crawled Out Of Sigorney Weavers Arse (Or It Might Have Been Her Face…We Can’t Tell The Difference)” (what a title)
(Which Bret thought was a pretty good film) Bret switched over to see American Gladiators on ITV. Bret enjoyed this programme. He enjoyed the fact that the contestants always got the shit beaten out of them. At the moment there was a contestant with his head being crushed into the floor. Suddenly the Gladiator doing the crushing stood up and ran towards the other gladiators. He was crazed! He grabbed the host and used him to club them, he smashed them in the head, lungs, liver, kidneys, legs, arms, and feet.
“Yeah baby! yeah!” he shouted as he ground “Faggot Fash” into the camera spool (he was on loan from England)
After this, his seething eyes darted around for the other camera that was working.
“I’m the King baby! No one can stop me now…yeah baby yeah!…there’s no-one who can beat me I’m the best there is …yeah baby yeah…Yeah!…YEAH!!!”
(Did this man actually have anything to say)
“I challenge anyone in the world to fight me one on one baby…and I’ll win…yeah baby! yeah!!”
“Hmmm” thought Bret, “What an interesting challenge. Too bad I’m not in America”
“I’m gonna travel the world and I’m starting with England ‘cos I hear there are some tough gladiators over there!…yeah baby!…I hear they can even get to shag the presenters of the show…baby!…yeah baby yeah!!!!!”
With that he smashed his fist into the camera and the transmission was over.
Much later Bret was sitting in the audience enjoying the show when the Gladiator arrived!
“Hmmmmmm” though Bret, “He looks much smaller than he did on Television” thought Bret (it was hardly surprising since Bret had a television screen bigger than a house in his house (work that one out!!!!))
“Come on you SCUMSUCKERS!….yeah baby yeah!” said the Gladiator (in case you were wondering or had any doubts)
A line of contenders got set to pit themselves against the Gladiator. A few minutes later it was apparent that they weren’t having much success on account of the fact that they were all minus body parts. Some of which were useful. The Gladiator looked mean and angry!
“Isn’t there anyone who is a challenge enough for me!…baby!” he screamed!
Bret stood up.
“I’ll face you, you blatent homosexual who enjoys dressing up in tight lycra which shows the fact that you don’t have much to show downstairs!”
“What did you say???!!!!!…baby!”
“I said….PREPARE TO GET YOUR ARSE KICKED BY BRET THE BASTARD!”
“Bret the Bastard eh?…yeah baby yeah!…kiss your ass goodbye Bret…yeah baby yeah!”
Bret jumped onto the field using a triple somersault with a concurrent backflip and a exo-bi-pedal-juggular-jaunt to stand facing the Gladiator (and if they are real gymnastic moves then I’m a Spaniard….Es muy facil senor es uno somersault con uno concurrent backflip y uno exo-bi-pedal-juggular-jaunt ). He then finished eating his his hot-dog, screwed up the napkin and tossed it into the bin. The Gladiator stared on slightly bemused. Bret nodded that he was ready.
“Prepare to lose your life! baby yeah baby yeah!” shouted the Gladiator
“I don’t think so!” replied Bret
The Gladiator ran towards Bret and grabbed his torso. He then started to squeeze.
“How does it feel to have the life squeezed out of you! baby!”
“You obviously haven’t met my ex wife Gloria!”
“What?”
Just then Bret pulled a big foam hand from his pocket and stuck it up the Gladiator’s nose.
“Arrghh!” he choked, “Not the giant foam hand in the nose trick!…..hrotch!….Baby yeah!”
The Gladiator dropped Bret and preceded to take the foam hand out of his nose.
“You won this round! But you won’t be so lucky next time…yeah baby yeah!” spluttered the Gladiator.
(what a cliché!)
He ran back into the changing room crying.
Later that evening Bret walked through his front door and switched on the television.
“Bret the Bastard, I have your sidekick Blow-up Banana Boy! (who had been on holiday by the way) and if you try and stop me he gets it! I am going to rule the world…bwahahahahahahaha! yeah baby yeah!”
Oh no is this the end for Blow-up Banana boy? Is the world doomed to listen to the shouts of a small genitaled lycra wearing poof? Why do all of these people want to rule the world? and why does this Gladiator keep saying Yeah Baby Yeah?…Oh yeah and ¿que es la problema con mi espanol?…All will be revealed in the next episode of Bret’s Journals!