Tuesday, 30 May 2017
The setting is the public bar of The Wrong Arms - the world's Number 1 Online Morrissey theme pub. Present are: Our Mozzer (seminal artist), Mikey Bracewell (former author and friend to the seminal artist, Morrissey), Boz Boorer (musician), TRB (author of the the 1 million+ viewed blog thingy, Following The Mozziah (FTM)), Heather (Blue Rose Society (BRS) member), EARS (BRS member), comrade harps (BRS member), Manc Lad (resident drunk), Romina (Italian), JG (friend of the show).
OM, Bracewell and Boorer are sat around a small table, away from the others, who are grouped around the bar. TRB is sat alone at a larger table. He stands up.
TRB: (addressing the room) Thank you all for coming. If it's all right with Our Mozzer, we'll get this meeting under way. Could you all please come and take a seat.
OM: (addressing Bracewell and Boorer) Who is that rather annoying slap head, and why is he mentioning my name?
BRACEWELL: His name's Rat. He runs that dreary blogsite I showed you, Following the Mozziah.
OM: I don't recall. Is it any good?
OM: I really have no idea why I let you two bring me here. What does he want from me?
BRACEWELL: He wrote to you requesting that you give advice on who to ban from posting comments on his blog. I replied to say that you have no interest what-so-ever, but then he offered to pay.
OM: What an odd little man. Still, with no current income other than the odd t-shirt sale from the old M Porium, I guess we can't afford to turn down a gift horse, even one as oddly shaped as that. I haven't got long though, I've got a four hour eyebrow steaming session this afternoon.
Everybody takes a seat at the table.
TRB: Heather, would you be kind enough to take notes please?
BOZ: (shaking his head) Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, Mozzer doesn't like any of that old clichéd chauvinistic claptrap, let's have a male secretary (looks at Manc lad), you, you can take notes.
OM: No, Boz, you're falling into the same trap that those other 'right on' musos, such as Willy Wragg and Rossinister have fallen into. We'll have none of that politically correct nonsense here. And what is more, that Manc lad character can barely grip a pen, let alone point it in the right direction and make it write. Let's keep Heather as secretary, she's the only one here who looks even barely compos mentis.
BRACEWELL: Always two steps ahead, Morr-ee-say, always two steps ahead.
BOZ: I liked him.
OM: (looking perplexed) Who, Boz?
BOZ: Compo. He was by far my favourite character in that Last of the Summer Wine programme. I never knew he liked mints though. It was never the same once Captain Peacock joined.
OM shakes his head. Bracewell rolls his eyes.
OM: Mikey, can you please instruct the pin headed baldy guy to get on with this meeting.
Bracewell nods his head at TRB.
TRB: Right then, Heather, are you ready to take notes?
HEATHER: Ready and waiting.
COMRADE HARPS: Sycophant!
HARPS: (stands up, takes out a piece of paper, and begins reading) Why do you lot always do everything Moz tells you to do? Everyone's the same, it's just one big group think around here. I'm a free thinker, when I think Morrissey says something that is wrong, I'm not afraid to say so, where as all the other BRS members just agree with every word he ever says, and when Moz says jump, you all just say, how high. I'm a free thinker-
JG: -You said that bit.
HARPS: Oh yeah, thanks, er, (runs his finger along his scripted words, and continues to read) I agree with Martin now, and don't let anyone else influence me.
OM: Boz, what have you been saying?
Boz looks vacant.
TRB: If I may, Moz-
BRACEWELL: -it's Morr-ee-say.
TRB: If I may, er, Morr-ee-say, I think Comrade Herpes is referring to Martin Rossiter, not Martin, I mean, er, Boz.
OM: You've lost me, and I must add, that I am very quickly losing the will to live - if ever such a will existed.
TRB: You see, Harps here got rather upset when someone accused him of being a sycophant the other day, so he started aiming pot shots at you on my blog in an attempt to prove that he wasn't one. He then turned on me too, so I banned the cunt.
OM: You've got no right to ban anyone without my say so. Only I have the authority to ban.
HARPS: Don't listen to him, Rat, you don't have to do everything he says. Stick to your guns.
TRB: Too right, he's banned.
OM: No he's not.
HARPS: Yes I am.
OM: (looking at Harps for the first time) Sit down, and be quiet.
HARPS: (sitting down quickly) Yes, sir, sorry sir, I didn't mean to cause offence. I'm a pacifist. Years of Refusal is a masterpiece. England for the English. Australia for the-
OM: -Do stop blabbering, you bearded buffoon. (to Bracewell) Mikey, can you please hurry this along.
Bracewell glares at TRB.
TRB: Right then, let's get to the bans.
HEATHER: Am I supposed to have written anything down yet, or has the meeting not started, it's just that there's already been talk of bans.
BRACEWELL: JUST GET ON WITH IT.
TRB: Er, right then, I would like to propose life bans for the following people.
OM: No, no, no. Your readership is already down to single figures, you can't afford to go dishing out life bans to anyone, especially as your readership is also my readership these days.
In the early days of MorrisseysWorld, hundreds would flock to read my witty creations, but the last parody piece that I wrote at Christmas for the True Morrissey site only had a handful of people read it, and that's all because of you, Rat. Your failure to hold on to readers is damaging my career.
TRB: With all due respect, you can hardly talk. Each time you release one of your statements, or give an interview to the press, you halve your fan base. If there's any more mention of sub species, Norwegian KFCs or petrified private sayings, then you'll soon have no fans left.
ROMINA: What ever is said, there wheel always bee the Mexicans.
Everyone in the room nods, and mutters agreement.
BRACEWELL: Rat, I think you had better sit down, and be quiet.
OM: No, it's alright, Mikey, let him say his piece, he obviously has a lot to get off that pigeon chest of his. Carry on, Rat.
TRB: I've, er, finished.
OM: You certainly are. I hereby ban you for two weeks. You can carry on writing your silly blog, if you really must, but do not write anything in the comments section.
EARS: (to Heather) It's going to look pretty empty, most of the comments on FTM are left by Rat.
OM: Right then, I think we've concluded our business here, so I'm off for a glass of Veuve before this afternoon's session.
JG: (to Boz) A recording session?
BOZ: Er, something like that.
OM heads towards to door.
TRB: (calling after Moz) We haven't discussed the bans of the others. What about Marcus, and GOB, and Lizzy, and MerryAnne, and Chuck, and what about those other annoying people who leave comments that I always delete, should I leave them, or carry on deleting them? Oh, and were you the one who commented as Child's Heart?
OM doesn't look round or reply, and leaves The Arms.
COMRADE HARPS: And what about me?
Posted by TRB at 09:36
- Day 2184 - Minutes of the FTM Bans Committee 29.5....
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- Day 2177 - Seeking sanctuary - the trojan warrior
- Day 2173 - Quiescent phase
- Day 2171 - "At my worst I am Morrissey"
- Day 2170 - Lifting
- Day 2168 - Black Cloud
- Day 2163 - "Fuck John Giddings"
- Day 2162 - Tossing around
- Day 2159 - Bieber discovers the Smiths, more MW cl...
- Day 2157 - Another MW classic re-surfaces
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