JR writing a book

ShoppingTelly

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"Well she said and she said.."They sounded like two adolesent girls who had been in a fight and were trying to explain their point of view to the teacher simultaneously.
Simon was going to have to be very masterful to stop these two fish wives attacking each other.
"STOP" bellowed Simon. He looked like he was about to metamorphosise into the incredible hulk.
Philip interjected "I can explain" simon screwed his face up "Who are you" he barked.
"I'm Philip Kingley, a world renound trichologist" Simon was growing impatient "A what?" he asked.
As philip started to reel off the list of qualifications he had and the science of tricology Simon finally snapped. Get the **** out of my office now all of you"
Debbie and Julia let go of Philip's legs and retreated to the corridor but Dr Kingsley refused to move.
"I am going to expose your organisation live on air, I have been bringing my range to you for years, and to my horror i've found that your presenters have not been using my products after all after repeated claims that they have".
Simon's mood changed to one of blind panic. He could visualise CASH being plastered all over the papers and viewers queing to appear on watchdog and comments appearing all over this shopping telly forum he'd heard so much about.
He had to think this through properly otherwise the fall out could be the end of him. "Philip, could you wait outside please" He said.
He walked back to his desk , poured himself a large drink and wondered what to do. He wolfed the drink down stood up and yelled "Julia in here now".......
 
...... I have a plan. You know Subo the hairy angel, well you will CASH baldly Angel.

Yes I can see it all now, thousands of women suffering hair loss need a roll model...............
 
Meanwhile, Liz Earle -aka The Wicked Witch of The Wight - was in pensive mood. She tapped her preternaturally beautiful french manicured nails on her desk and pondered what to do. Her plan for world domination through skincare preparations was at a very delicate stage, and the recent battles behind the scenes of Britain’s Shopping Telly were causing her some disquiet. Anxiety caused her to forget herself for a moment and she allowed her feelings to wrinkle her flawless brow.

All this upheaval was bad for Shopping Telly, and what was bad for Shopping Telly was bad for her revenue stream - and that could not be borne!

She hadn’t come this far for her grand plans to be derailed by the menopausal machinations of people whose brains had been addled by a combination of studio lighting lightly frying many of their brain cells, and the cumulative over spraying of Tova perfumes acting as a neurotoxin on the rest.

Liz had suffered setbacks before of course: Her plan for world domination via the world’s media had foundered when Newpaper and Magazine Editors kept sidelining her into writing about beauty products, and the women of Britain seemed far more interested in what would make them pretty than on any kind of revolution – even a Whole Food One.

This was when she first began experimenting with Mind Control in her secret laboratory just off the Mainland of Britain - before abandoning this plan as a failure and whipping up batches of Cleanse and Polish on her sturdy stripped pine kitchen table instead.

Unbeknownst to Liz back then, the experiments were actually a huge success. Those members of the media on whom she had experimented were now completely under her control but it had taken a year or two for the vine-like tentacles of the organism grown in her own garden next to the summerhouse to entertwine themselves fully around a victim’s brain and by then Liz had moved on to a new plan.

Once she realised she took full advantage of it of course. Many people had wondered about the unwavering obsequiousness of the British Press to Liz Earle when they were so bliddy horrible to almost everybody else - but nobody had yet guessed her secret.

The there had been the problem with the chemical make up of the products. Liz had introduced a “catnip for humans” type element into the formula to ensure that once someone tried Liz Earle Products they became wildly enthusiastic about them and more importantly continued to purchase them. Less than 1% of the population was immune to this agent, but unfortunately for Liz – one of them was Alison Young - The Actual Resident Beauty Expert For You on Britain’s Favourite shopping channel! This was a huge problem for years as Alison Young’s complete indifference to Liz Earle products and slight bewilderment at other people’s enthusiasm was blatantly obvious onscreen. Eventually however, Liz’s army of Isle of Wight Pixies was able to obtain pictures of Alison Young with no make up on, early in the morning after a TSV Launch and taken in horribly unflattering light. These photographs had proved the key to inducing Alison Young to feign enthusiasm for Liz Earle on shopping telly.

The MiniMe programme was going well though. It was a pain to have to clip her perfect fingernails just a shade shorter than the ideal in order to clone the MiniMe’s but the ones cloned from her toenails had not been fit to be seen in public – let alone on television representing her Brand. But even they were not quite so horrific as this new Simon Cowell backed shopping channel "Britain's got Money (And We Want it!)" or whatever it was called. She recognised a fellow member of the World Domination club when she saw one and decided it was time to step in.

Lifting the receiver of her antique Bakelite phone and dialling the number with a beautiful Mont Blanc fountain pen Liz crossed a couple of immaculately manicured fingers under her desk…
 
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"Simon" cooed Liz Earle MBE "it's me" "And who might you be" answered Simon arrogantly. "Liz, Liz Earle MBE the queen of cleanse and polish" "oh that old slapper who was I'm a hasbeen please keep watching and save my career" he smiled at his own wit. "How very dare you" snapped Liz dropping all pretence of politness" you know damm well who I am, like you i am an expert in mind control, money spinning and am in fact the white witch of dark arts, I know the secrets of the QVC cellars. I am calling you to suggest that we joind forces to make even more money, control even more minds and maybe I could even help you with a little cloning" Simon feigned indifference but he could not help himself, he was intgrigued, cloning, hmm lots of little Simons without the messy bother of sex, it was a very appealling idea. "Liz, do you know Julia Roberts?" "You want to clone Julia?" Liz dislliked Simon but she did not think he was mad. "No, no of course not, I'm just having trouble persuading her to be the face of Harald's new range of clothing for the larger woman "Grosse und Schon" and also to front a hair piece show, She really is being difficult and I understand that you have worked with her in the past and I was wondering if your powers could be used to get her to do what I ****** well say" The Wicked Witch pondered, she could use her knowledge of Jullia' past to exert her influence over Simon. She suggested a working lunch at Greggs knowing that Simon appreciated fine cusinne and value for money. As she anticipated he agreed and even offered to pay! Their plans for TV shopping domination could be shaped over a deliciously exquisite cheese and onion pasty, (Liz was a vegetarian of course) while Simon dined on a rare sausage roll for being a true Alpha male he liked food to be a challenge. Liz sprayed herself with her new perfume, so what if those nasty reviews said it was not very good, then she adjusted her special lighting that travelled with her at all time and set out for her power lunch with Simon.......
 
As Simon stood up on his Cuban heeled Markon ankle boots he strode towards the door as he opened the door he was met by Pipa Von Squawkenberger who clutched a handful of her toneless CD's alongside side her was Paul Lavers who thrust a multipack of jumbo Spacesaver bags at Simon and said...
 
"Si me old mate, we've heard all the rumours about you being in charge and we are so thrilled to have a true celebrity at the helm" Pipa shoved one of her CDs at the Great One, "Mr Cowell" she trilled "not only am I a presentet par excellence, oh yeah but I am an established recording aritist, Pipa at your service your majesty". Simon sighed, sometimes it was so wearying being wonderful and having people hang on your every word, "and what the hell are these" he barked gesticulating at the Spacesaver bags. "A gift for you oh mighty one, an offering to lay at the alter of your greatness in the hope that there is a future for us here at CASH" mumbled Paul. Simon sighed again and pointedly looked at Gossip watch adorning his manly wrist. "Leave your stuff here, I was not even aware that you two exisited I've been so busy with Julia Roberts and that dratted out of control Flinty. I have an executive lunch at Greggs in an short while with Liz Earle MBE, so don't have any time for the pair of you" " I know liz" squeaked Pipa,"yeah yeah yeah, ooh lunch at Greggs how wonderful, all the celebs go there, the paps are always lurking outside, wow how utterley glamourous" Simon had had enough already but Pipa'a thinness had a certain appeal and she could sing according to her. Maybe there was a place for her at CASH. He swept out of the room on his way to Greggs, pushing his lordly way past............
 
Simultaneously "Make me a star Simon! Go On. Do it. I'll work every so hard and it would mean the world to me. My gerbil's on life support for human interest, and I've got video of me as a small child you can use in the montages"

Pipa and Lavers then fell to the ground in a Waynes World style "We are not worthy" pose.

"Public Auditions are next week." grunted Simon shortly as he firmly shut the door.

"Yeah Yeah yeah..but...." said Pipa, before turning to stare in astonishment at Lavers who was now sobbing quietly into the shag pile.
 
En route to her meeting with Simon Liz Earle MBE tried to relax in the luxurious back seat of her customised Borage and Argan Oil powered motor car. The vehicle was much like Liz herself; glossy, well kept - and what came out the back end didn't stink. It was positively fragrant in fact (on both counts.) Gillian McKeith could cast no aspersions there!

Liz wondered what direction Simon intended to take the Shopping Telly Industry. He was well known for filling most of the screen time on his programmes with gullible members of the public who didn't get paid, but it was Liz Earle MBE's considered opinion that this business model would not work well for Shopping Telly since everybody knew that whenever the public got involved in Shopping Telly things tended to go downhill fast!. Case in point of course being the infamous T callers who made people cringe almost universally by parading their long and gruesome medical histories or compulsive shopping addiction problem for the world to see.

Perhaps Simon would revive The Shopping Telly Robotic Presenter Project? It had ground to a halt when the world's leading roboticists had been unable to overcome the vocabulary limitations of the prototypes data banks. Known as "The Kitsch Glitch" in roboticist circles the world over, it meant that the Robot Presenter constantly repeated a small selection of words and phrases over and over again - and not always appropriately. The prototype also had a small problem with the fans that cooled the microprocessor unit which when it was miked up sounded exactly like a breathless wheeze. These issues hadn't prevented QVC from putting the prototype to work on air approximately ten times as often as any other presenter however, and its batting rate was comparable to any of them. It didn't need to be paid, and was put to sleep in the stationery cupboard at night plugged into someone's mobile phone charger. And it was quite sweet really. When they powered it up ready to go on air it would ramble on about her "husband" and all the new handbags he'd bought her. If anyone got really bored they just switched it off. In many ways the robot presenter was the ideal employee. Best of all it always forgot how many times before it'd seen Charlies "Slow Reveal" and always clapped with delight whenever he did it - whether it was the onscreen version or the offscreen one.

Liz herself had found that Charlie's "Slow Reveal" had become beyond tiresome very very quickly. People believed that she has demanded her own Dressing Room because she was a Prima Donna but the mundane truth was that she just wanted a door she could lock that no "naked under this dressing gown" clad presenters could lie in wait for her.

Liz was also aware that people mocked her for her personal lighting man and makeup artist too, but really they were both absolutely essential. Years of working with "botanicals" had turned Liz into a partially plant based lifeform and the Chlorophyll coursing through her veins required a sunlamp to be trained on her for at least 12 hours a day. She over did it with the sunlamp slightly on TSV days but only so that she didn't wilt. The Chlorophyll helped keep her strong and healthy but unfortunately also imparted a slightly greenish tint to her skin which was very evident when she was not fully made up so the only person who was ever allowed to see her without her make up on was the Makeup Artist.

There had a been a small crisis on air once when Liz had suffered a paper cut while showing the many magazine articles praising her products as her blood was now a pleasing shade of emerald green -but like the trouper she is she grasped hold of her trusty Aloe Vera Plant and pretended the liquid was sap from the leaves.
 
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Simon arrived first at Greggs, he wasn't used to the concept of queuing and clicked his newly waxed fingers at the spottly little oik behind the counter.
He received no response unless you count a few menapousal women who were on their lunch break. They fawned all over him and bored him about their talented offsprings who could be the next Leon Jackson if only they could be discovered.
Simon's disdain for this place was clear for all to see, he didn't want to mix with the rif raf, he wanted shepards pie at the Ivy.
As he was contemplating ringing Lady Liz MBE to change the venue, she walked in armed with press cuttings, the aloe vera plant and a bag full of pots of superskin moisturiser.
Liz had brought this with, as this Moisturiser had been described by Jo Fairley, her best friend and beauty journalist extrodinaire as the best moisturiser in the whole wide world.Liz knew Simon was partial to a bit of botox and this could be her secret weapon in winning him over, he could be superskinned and never need have another needle jammed into his handsome face again.
"Hi Liz" said simon in a voice, he knew would have her under his spell in a second.
"Simon" she replied
"Shall we go somewhere else a bit more classy". he smarmed "A classy place for a classy lady".
Liz was well aware he was trying to charm the knickers off of her but she decided to be humble and mix with the masses.
"Ere aren't you the cleanse and polish lady" yelled the spotty little oik from behind the counter. "I love your products".
Liz was not impressed one little bit ,she was only used to being told that C&P left skin glowing not looking like it had been rubbed in an oil slick.
Simon looked unimpressed did he really want to form a partnership with her. She lied ,through her perfectly straight teeth ,and said "No no no,, I work for L'occitaine my name is Alexis people always get us mixed up because we're both so posh".
Simon liked her style, If she could lie so convincingly, she was a dead cert for a partnership in his shopping telly empire.
Simon surveyed the selection of food available, how was he going to win her over with a cheese and pickle sandwich that had turned up edges and looked like it had been on display for a month.
He needn't have worried because she wasn't that intersted in the food she wanted to talk business that suited Simon as well.
"Look i'll cut to the chase" said Simon "I've aquired this corporation and i need you and your vast knowledge and experience in all things botanical to get me out of shopping telly Hell"
Liz had one question. "Will Ali Young PHD BS be coming back because I really get the impression she doesn't like me" Simon tried to reassure her "No, It's true". continued Liz "I think it's because I don't provide a prestigious salon/spa brand that is renound in the industry ".
"No worries, she's back mucking out the horses, you my love would be my resident beauty expert".
Decisions Decisions what would Liz do............
 
It was very tempting to consider the idea of total control at CASH (the shopping telly channel formerly known as QVC), there were quite a few people she would enjoy ladying it over, that Alexis woman for starters, not to mention the girls from Deceleor and Elemis. She could make them beg for airtime, her profits would soar, she might even be made a Dame! The enticing prospects of power and even more wealth were headier than her new and rather unsuccessful perfume. "Mr Cowell" she murmured, "oh call me God" he responded in a low seductive voice. "there are certain conditions I wish to discuss " Liz cooed. "Firstly I want to know what on eath you have done with Julia Roberts, I have heard some very worrying rumours that she on the loose...." "Loose Women? then we're f*****d" interrupted Simon " oh lord the truth will be out about Lulu's botox and filler melt down, Arlene and Charlle, oh hell, they'll be known as Charlene in the media and get more space in the tabloids than me" Liz laid a fragrant hand on his botoxed brow. "calm down and inhale some skin tonic, you're starting to panic and get ahead of yourself, As far as I am aware La Roberts is still confined to the Battersea premises although she is something of a loose cannon. Anyway, I know a secret about Julia" leaning forward in a cloud of botanical prefume Liz breathed into Simon ear "Julia is........
 
and it's been one of the best kept secrets at qvc for years. "I mean the signs have always been there". Smirked Liz "she carries all her weight around her stomach, that's a beer belly from too many nights out with the other boys, it's all held in with spanx, She also has such large feet that they can't get womens shoes to fit, that's why they always has to be seen in flip flops".
Simon was stunned could this be the same Julia/Julian that had tried to dance so seductively the other day. He somehow felt better as he hadn't been at all turned on by her misguided attempts to woo him and he was quite relieved he hadn't been aroused by her afterall he had spent long enough fighting off rumours about his sexuality.
Liz was now in full flow. "That's not all". She said I've got even jucier gossip Catherine is in fact.........
 
that Ekertrina bird that's been going out with Ronnie Wood and is about to "star" in the final Celebrity Big Brother, being Russian she is a mistress of disuguise, her parents were spies during the Cold War you know. Why do you think that Jo Wood's organic range lasted such a short time on QVC apart from the fact that I am the only one who truly understands the power of organics. Well when Jo Wood found out that Ronnie's tart was working at QVC she stormed out and that was the end of that" Simon was starting to feel that he was in the centre of a never ending nightmare, the woman he had earmarked as the one who was going to be the bulging body of Harald's Grosse und Schone ladies range was in fact a lady boy, Catherine who was due to front the Yummy Mummy baby and chidren range was the former "companion" of a raddled old rocker (that explained her penchant for festivals). "Liz Earle MBE, is there anyhing else I need to know about this hell pit I have been cast into?" "Oh there's plenty, come with me down to the cellar...........
 
Simon was ecstatic he was being invited in to the cellar with Liz Earle MBE. could he finally have pulled a lady who oozed class out of every pore, as opposed to those two bit lap dancers he was used too at Spearmint Rhino.
As Liz led him down the steps to the illusive cellar Simon couldn't resist giving her a pat on her compact toosh. "Wallop", he felt the full force of Lady Liz's right hook.
"Liz sweetheart" he started to say. She was having none of it and made it clear she was not going to be another notch on the Cowell bedpost.
After an awkward silence, that lasted what seemed like an eternity, Liz whispered "look at this".
Simon's eyes were transfixed at the sight of Robyn the philosophy stepford wife. she was being recharged and was repeating monotonously
"this can be used as a shower gel, bubble bath or shampooooo".
"I work next to Christine in her laboratory".
"This smells like pure clean white cotton sheets.
"Oprah winfrey loves Hope in a Jar"

"Can't you shut her up". Said Simon realising it was possible that you could actually be bored to death.
"Afraid not". said Liz "I followed her once on beauty day and she only has those four phrases in her entire vocabulary."
Suddenly there was a deafening noise and sparks started to fly. It was reminisent of something out of a frankenstein film and Christina slowly started to come to life and repeat her mantra again.

Simon was still reeling why on earth would a brand as prestigious as Philosophy want this robot representing them.
Why can't they have someone vibrant, a bit camp, someone the viewers love, able to shift shedloads of goods." asked an inquisitive Simon
"Oh but they did, his name was Lee". smirked Liz. "He remains one of the great mysteries, here one day gone the next, removed to Molton brown heaven"
" What the **** is Molton brown heaven" he asked
"well that's what i wanted to show you, it's a magical place where brands or people that the viewers love suddenly disappear to never to be seen or mentioned again, the Bermuda Triangle of Battersea". She said in a mysteriously sensual voice..
"Well what else will I find there". he asked
"Come with me". she said ............
 
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Down the steep stone steps they went, Liz's glowing complexion lighting the way. Simon felt unaccustomed nerves, he was in the well manicured hands of a woman he was not sure he could trust. He was desparete to learn the secrets of Liz's cloning techniques, he knew she had a mini me who fronted Liz's shows and confused shoppers with her uncanny resemblence to her boss. Simon really wanted a mini me, it could go to all the things that bored him, it could be in the USA while he was relaxing in his Carribbean hideaway. But now was not the time to think ahead, now was the time to see what the cellar contained.

All sorts of broken boxes and ripped plastic bags llittered the floor, Simon kicked one with his toe and hideous blanket imprinted with images of QVC staff flopped out. "Ha" sniggered Liz "one of the more ridiculous TSVs, all the disasters get flung down here. Simon took his lighter out of the pocket of his high waisted trousers. Flicking it on he surveyed the dank and crowded gloom. "What on earth is that?" he gesticulated towards a heap of straw and bubble wrap. "Ah, that's the gardening one, he gets shoved down here in the autumn, they wrap him up to protect him from the frost and then drag him out in the spring" "But he was doing the dimonique dance"Simon shuddered at the memory. "Well I guess Charlie or one of the other boys fetched him out to make up the numbers, anyway that's not why we are here, follow me, we are going to the Inner Sanctum where you will............
 

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