Looking at the rather over cooked piece of venison on my fork, I placed it back on the plate.
I pulled the starched napkin from my collar and rang the small glass bell next to the cruet. "Frobisher!" I called. Damn that man, he should have sought employment in a Crematorium rather than a kitchen.
I could hear muffled sounds coming from the lower floor as the incompetent man servant made his way up the oak staircase.

I glanced toward the corner of the room at my colleague, and dare I presume, friend, dozing in his basket. A fine looking wire haired terrier if ever I saw one. "Watson, a word if you will.". Watson stirred, "What is it Holmes" he asked sleepily.
"A very delicate matter Watson, very delicate indeed." I explained.
Watson stretched as he left his small wicker basket. his bowler hat tilting to a jaunty angle. "What can be so delicate Holmes? You know we can discuss anything, always have."

I produced a small photograph from the breast pocket of my tweed jacket. "Its this Watson, I found it under your water bowl."

Watson visibly paled. "I... I can explain.." he stammered. I threw the photograph down to him,
"Can you Watson? Can you really explain this and make something that is so wrong, instantly right?", I was trying to control the emotion in my voice, unsuccessfully I hasten to add.

"But its not how it seems Holmes!" protested Watson, "Its just a photograph, I thought I had thrown it away..."

"Enough Watson!", I slammed my hand on the table, the cutlery rattling as I did. "Let me get this straight in my mind. For the last three months I have been worked to the very core of my soul, death threats from Moriarty, seven unsolved crimes, a particularly bad week of low grade Morphine, a dose of the clap, which to this day its source is beyond me, and worrying about Carol Thatcher being on Most Haunted. During this time what were YOU doing Watson?"
Watson whined quietly "I was...I wa"

"I'll tell you what you were doing Watson!" I shouted, "You were banging the Baskerville twins!"

Meercat and the Curious Case Of Of The Wobbling Bottom.

Most Haunted Old Tatton Hall with Carol Thatcher (for Christ sake...) Tues 20th Feb 2007

I hope to God that LivingTV broadcasts the right bloody episode tonight. Although the question remains, why oh why are they having a "celebrity guest"? Why Carol Thatcher? Why not The Chuckle Brothers? Or the Muppets?



I confess. I am not writing this as I watch it, my multi tasking abilities do not stretch that far, I have just watched the 'show' and am now reviewing it from video. So before I start I can honestly say its the worse one I have seen so far, I'm going to be struggling to find anything in this hour of mindless drivel.

Tonight's choice of drink is, as usual, bourbon, Wild Turkey to be precise, and the banquet before me me consists of a packet of Morrisons own brand "Frosted Flakes" (as they are 86p cheaper than 'Frosties', and just as good....anyway, I digress) The level of drunkenness is around 7 to 8 although I cant remember what I based the scale on....

Fielding gives us her version of the history of Tatton Hall, I say her version, as she keeps slipping in things like "a portal for paranormal energy" and I have no idea where she keeps getting this information from...

Fielding:
"So who would be mad enough to spend the night alone here"..
Well I've tried Keith Moon the other week, I shouted Carol Thatcher at the screen last week at the wrong episode so I cant choose her again, erm... George the 3rd! I scream at the television.

Nope, wrong again. Geoff Adams and Ian Cash apparently. Is it me or does Geoff Adams look like Kevin Bacon on crack?
Cash lets me down and doesn't come out with the immortal words "It smells of old" which is a shame. The night before vigil, consisted of Cash and Adams whistling. Yep, that was it, they whistled. Terrifying stuff eh?

Jesus bloody Christ I wish they would stop doing that. I was lulled into a state of calm and then suddenly the apparition that is the 'guest medium' flashes up on the screen. Where do they find these people? There has not been one so far who hasn't scared the hell out of me. Oh apart from that bloke with the nice cardigan the other week. This one has a cardigan, but its not nice. She says something, but you know me, I don't speak 'medium' very well so I don't understand a word she says.

Fielding carries on to explain about "Tom", the resident ghost.
"In life he was a violent alcoholic and a wife beater, who ended up drinking himself to an early demise"

"In death his legacy remains the same"

What, he's dead drunk? TaDaaaaaaa!!! (Come on, you saw it coming....)

What in Gods name is that. Good grief, its Carol Thatcher. She appears to have talked a Bison to death and is wearing its remains.

Already Fielding can hear "tapping" because once again bored dead people have nothing better to do than randomly 'tap'

Thatcher:
"Its not the odd job wepair man working late is it?" (Now thats hard to say after a few whiskeys....)

A little chat with O'Keeffe followed by David "I see dead Children" Wells. He feels a "shouty and shovey" male."He's clearly drunk as I can smell alcohol". I resent the implication! I smell of alcohol! And I'm not dru..... oh... fair point....

Wells:
"The name I'm getting is a generic name, its Tom", generic! Ooh hark at her! "I'm getting a tightening of the throat as well" Hang on, something here is ringing a bell....


"Tom and a tightening of the throat"

Thatcher:
"I'm such an amatwer I'm tempted to have a wook under the table", as she lifts the table cloth and peers under the table you can just make out a voice from under it saying "piss off Thatcher, you ain't seen me right?".

Wells finds kids, not real ones, dead ones as usual. They turn the lights off. "Its different in the dark isn't it!" exclaims Fielding.

Yes. Its dark.

Wells senses a man wearing a tapestry(?) and a man in a cardigan. I wonder if its the guest medium from the other week..... The male has been killing animals (and Thatcher appears to be wearing most of them, in fact they have actually employed a new member of crew to randomly hit Thatcher with a large stick to make sure her coat is dead) and he can smell the blood of rabbits being skinned.

They move to another room and Wells has someone "gently stroking his face". Thatcher asks "How does it feel when they do that", Wells strokes his fingers down her cheek, "Just like that". "Oh says Thatcher, "Just like a jellyfish" What? A jellyfish? She clearly has no plans to write any novels for Mills&Boon in the future..

"Emily trembled as Brets lips touched hers for the first time, his hand moved to her cheek, his gentle touch sending a hideous searing pain down one side of her face causing the muscles to spasm. Aunty Dorothy leapt from her chair to urinate on her niece to reduce the irritation...."

They wander around a bit, Fielding hears "pebbles on the floor", Wells soils himself after claiming a black mass came at him and Thatcher knocks some furniture over, with her coat. Personally I think the coat saw a fruit bowl and made a lunge for it....

I think its time for a seance.

"Its time for a seance" says Fielding

No cameras under the table as it moved and Thatcher seemed decidedly unimpressed about it. She decided to call it a night and went home to feed her coat.

O'Keefe hears music in the background, Wells thinks it may have been traffic outside, so put the two together and you get Wayne in his Corsa driving past with the windows down...

Fielding and Frodo Cath 'go it alone'. Fielding assures us that Cath has no idea that the alleged ghost doesn't like women.

Fielding: "we're dealing with a man who doesn't like women here"
Baggins: "Lets just go a little further"
Fielding: "Don't you know what the phenomena is here?"
Baggins: "No, I've not listened"

Ok, so you have a small team of investigators searching an alleged haunted house with apparently a paranormal background involving a male spirit who doesn't like women and one of the team..."wasn't listening"......

Anyway, Frodo and Fielding experience nothing other than self induced hysteria and a bit of running around.

Karl gets 'dizzy', probably been at Fieldings hip flask. There now follows one of the worst stage prompts in the history of theatre,

Fielding: "I don't like the son of a bitch, I think he's going to do something".
On cue, something is thrown. Good work people!

They hear a growling noise. Thatchers coat is loose and is roaming the grounds....

Stones are thrown. They find the stone and place it on a bicycle seat, walk away and its thrown again. Then they decide to lock a camera off on it, and surprise surprise , it doesn't move. Strange that don't you think? A bottle is 'thrown'. Great!

O'Keefe is back in the good books, he refused to back up any of the goings on, Well, we shall see what he says next time, I'm still not sure about him these days.

This was one of the worst episodes I have seen. Its almost as though the entire crew has been hit with the same apathy of "Oh must we really do all this again".
I apologise for the review, you cant make a sows arse out of a pigs ear or something. This one was really hard work. Perhaps I should seek out new programs to review.....