After seeing a pair of tits bouncing around, it was understandable why Jerry thought he’d stumbled into a fantasy of Jerald’s he really didn’t want to see. But no, it’s only Ant and Dec. Turns out Jerald was bored of just watching the adverts that he just wanted to win them. Ah, convenient.
As per the last fantasy, Gerald was in the hot-seat. He wasn’t playing that shitty half-pint version of the game where they get their computer to randomly select a caller over the phone, where they win mediocre prizes like £20 of M&S vouchers, no. He was on the proper Win The Ads.
As usual, Gerald had a wall of 20 boxes, each containing an item shown in the adverts of yesterday’s Emmerdale. Things ranging from a new car, a holiday to Egypt and a roll of toilet tissue amongst other things useless for a bird were up for grabs. He memorised where his favourite ones were, but the devils Ant and Dec muddled them all up and hid them with numbers. Oh, those cheeky chappys.
Gerald was going to be asked questions from the news this week, but he hadn’t seen the news thanks to staying in his little room trying to take over a Neopets fansite. Blimey. Sad life he lead, eh? He didn’t know where Michael Jackson was buried, why Katie and Peter Andre split up or what the News of the World were doing with people’s phones.
"Alton Towers?"
"Erectile dysfunction?"
"Selling them on eBay?"
Jerry saw he had no idea, and wanted to help him so badly. He was torn between shouting out the right answer in brotherly love, or the wrong answer so he could get back home quicker. He kind of got caught up in the moment.
"Forest lawn!"
"…god knows!"
"being the only ones to tap the fat celebrities!"
He thought he was going to win the prizes by the end of it all, seeing as he’d answered all the questions correctly. Shame that Gerald didn’t. But he got one, at least.
Ant showed him what he’d won. It was the toilet tissue. Would he gamble that for a stab at all twenty prizes? Gerald pondered a bit. The audience didn’t. But then again, the general public are idiots. Even Jerry wanted him to gamble, as then there was a chance he’d lose.
"I think I’ll GAMBLE!" shouted Gerald, after having his choice made by Sophie Ellis Bexter recorded on a VT. The audience cheered. Jerry laughed. At least he was, until Dec said that the audience couldn’t help him on the final answer he gave.
"Here we go," said Dec, "With the Olympics only three years away, which famous athlete was spotted tripping up on the pavement outside their house this week? Was it Chris Hoy or Noel Edmonds?"
Jerry knew Gerald didn’t watch Deal or No Deal nor did he see the Beijing Olympics, so those two names meant nothing to him. There’s a possibility that Gerald might just lose and put an end to this shockingly awful storyline.
"We’re going to have to hurry you, I’m afraid." said Dec, even though he wasn’t really afraid. He was just saying it.
"Urm… urr… Noel Edmonds?" answered Gerald worryingly.
The audience were stunned and silent apart from the solitary "You twat!" from the chavvy woman at the back. Gerald looked up at Jerry, who looked overly pleased with himself. Gerald just wished the world would just swallow him up.
In a bizarre twist of irony, that’s exactly what happened. A doorway appeared below him, and he just fell through, thanks to Newton inventing gravity all those years ago. What would we have done without him, eh?
Unfortunately, Jerry wasn’t so quick on his… wings… and he didn’t get through the door in time. He was stuck with Ant and Dec until he found another doorway. Let’s face it, it’s better than that time he was stuck with Susan Boyle in Ann Summers. God, that was awkward…
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