[Sticks]

As BB4 sinks into oblivion

As BB USA pulls in only those lucky enough to have E4 (I am not watching it as BB UK is enough for me)

It is time to get back to normal business.

I am posting this here, as we non Admins can not post new topics in the interactive story thread - Sorry Rob!!!

The old interactive story seems a bit unweildy, but feel free to continue.

This is the new one and normal interactive story rules apply (Well sort of ish)

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Setting the Scene
The premise is taken from a posting I did on page 2 of the BB4 "who do you want to win thread"

In an alternate universe, Helen Adam won Big Brother 2001. However this win was to doom her love affair with Paul Clarke.

Just as in our world, after Paul was evicted The News of the World ran the story "I'm going to give Helen the Heave ho". Helen's friends did not take kindly to this.

Through out the week, Paul in this universe as he did in ours protested his loyalty to Helen.

But all for naught.

Brian was seen as being really nasty and two faced for splitting the lovers and not nominating Elizebeth, and so Helen Adams won by the narrowist of margins. 100 votes.

A photo finish.

Paul gave her the Gucci, just as he did in our universe and all seemed like it was a fairy tale come true.

Then came the inuendo from Helen's so called friends.
The press ran a story that he was only after her money, and if she had lost according to Paul's "close friends" he would have dumped her.

Paul denied it.

A friend of Helen, all in Helen's best interest of course, faked a digital image of Paul with a lady of the night and sold it to the Sun. The Sun never bothered to check it was authentic.

Paul was due to have a meeting with Helen, but just before that he was visted by men in ski masks and was told that if he saw Helen then he would have to do his courting in a wheel chair. He was held long enough to miss his meeting. They then force fed him vodka and photographed him in a compromising position. The photograph was never released, But they made sure Paul had a copy...

The poison continued to drip into Helen's ear. In her heart she did not want to believe it, but the evidence seemed to mount up.

Being stood up by Paul did not help.

In the alternative universe where Helen won Big Brother 2001, the Helen and Paul romance fizzled out and a broken hearted Paul emigrated to a far away land never to be heard of again with his name as mud.

Helen lost her sparkle and did not appeare on GMTV.

In the end Helen went back to cutting hair at Classy Cutz......

+++++++++++++
Our Story picks up here

It is 2003 and in a low class bar in Cape Town. A young dishevelled man is drinking at the bar.

He is approached by a man in a suit, the smell of ozone, as you get near a live rail wafted in with him.

"Mr Paul Clarke" said the man in the suit

"Who wants to know" said Paul as he knocked back his third whiskey

"My name is Mr Tickle, I was a contestant on Big Brother four"

Paul slammed the glass down on the bar
"Don't talk to me about Big Brother - it wrecked my life"

"In this universe yes"

"What are you on about ? Go away and leave me alone"

"Sorry Mr Clarke I can not do that and we do not have much time"

Paul turned round to face the man called Mr Tickle, "Don't let me keep you"

"Mr Clarke, what do you know of Quantum theory, Schrodingers cat and the multiple universe theory"

Paul Nodded off, almost falling off of his bar stool.

Mr Tickle looked up at the ceiling, "That seems to happen in this universe as well" said to himself.

Mr Tickle took out a cylinder with flashing lights and placed it down on the counter. There was an LED display that was counting down.

"Wassat" Paul piped up

"That is not important, What if Brian had won, do you think you would have ended up in South Africa ?"

"Huh?"

Paul looked at the man again, it was Jon Tickle, the man who had done the housemate swap on the African Big Brother. Apart from that he cared very little

"Time is running out Mr Clarke" Mr Tickle exclaimed as he grabbed hold of Paul's wrist and the device. "I was sent here to fetch you"

Suddenly the bar was filled with flashing blue electric arcs and a heavy smell of ozone. The customers were stunned to see the two men vanish into thin air.

Meanwhile back in our universe where Brian had won and Paul and Helen were living happily in Hadley wood......

[Romantic Old Bird]

Hi Sticks! It's a bit too alternative for me really, sorry!

I did my bit on alternatives in Casablinka, remember?...................




Casa-blink-a

This all stems from a dream ROB experienced after a late night chat with a fellow lunatic poster on this site. She k_nows who she is……………………………….


Scene: A Café/Bar somewhere in Ibiza. Late Summer 2003

It’s 2am in the busy little place, which is presently somewhat dominated by a loud and merry group of friends from Munchen Gladbach.

In the centre of the bar, on a small raised podium, the resident musician sighs as he completes his haunting rendition of Rodriguez Guitar Concerto number one, and pauses to acclaim the scattered applause of the few people close e_nough to hear him over the cacophony of _noise in the bar.

‘How about playing something gut _now?’
came a shout from the back of the club.

‘Ja! How about, a David Hasselhof number?’

‘Yeah mate, you wish!’
came a disembodied voice from the other side.

‘ Yeah, that’s e_nough of that shite, how about ‘Three Lions’? eh? 4:1, 4:1, 4:1, 4:1……………..’

‘This is unreal’ , thought the guitarist,
‘I am an artist. Just how did I end up here?’

Suddenly he became aware of someone walking up behind him.

‘How about DeLuxe Dean?’, came a whisper in his ear.

Dean looked round, and was amazed to see Helen, resplendant in a simple, figure hugging and faintly glittering black dress, standing right beside him.

‘Bloody hell, Helen, what are you doing here? I mean, it’s lovely to see you, but, I didn’t expect to find you here, never in a million years!’

‘Yeh well, we’ve all done a few things we never thought we would Dean. What are you doing yere, playing yere? ‘

asked Helen, sitting down beside him on a stool, ig_noring the wolf-whistles from the crowd.

‘It’s a long story H. I mean, things just happen, don’t they? I was in between gigs, Vanessa's airline is on this run anyway, and Paul needed someone to play here, and I thought, you k_now, why _not?’ said Dean. ‘But this in here lot today…’

‘How is he Dean? How is Mr Clarke?’ asked Helen

‘He’s _not good, Helen - it’s been re-ally bad for him. To be honest, he really doesn’t need to see you right _now. I mean, he’s just getting back on his feet again, after a year.’

‘Does he hate me?’ asked Helen, ‘No, don’t answer that. I k_now he must. I would, if I was him, I would’.

‘He doesn’t hate you, he says it really ‘cool’ that you, and you k_now, ‘him’ have sorted out your differences said Dean.

‘Does he think that’s what it was?’ asked Helen

‘What else would he think?’ said Dean.

'He k_nows you were going to see the bloke, and then the very next day, I mean, you just didn’t turn up.’

‘Oh don’t Dean, if I could just explain…… ‘
said Helen, sadly and helplessly………….

‘Listen Helen, you don’t need to explain to me, you k_now! He was humiliated, poor bloke. The photo’s in Hello, of him standing, waiting, he just had to leave the country……….’
said Dean, looking up to find the crowd were _now getting restless for entertainment.

‘You gone on strike man? Play something for us!’, boomed a Geordie voice near the podium.

‘Play it Dean!’ said Helen. ‘Play De-Luxe for me.’

‘I can’t Helen, I promised I wouldn’t’

‘You can Dean, you can, do it for me. la-dida-deda-deda, la-deda dedaaaaaa’

‘Alright, just this one time, he’s _not here anyway, I’ll play it once for you’ , said Dean, strumming his way into the introduction.

Helen slipped back off the podium, sat down on a stool by the bar, closed her eyes and swayed from side to side, letting the music wash over her.

‘Lush’ she murmured, ‘He’s my bow-ow-oat on an open sea, he is one, he is me, if I…….’.

She stopped, opened her eyes and looked at Dean enquiringly. His hand was still against the frets, and he was staring out of the gloom of the bar, towards the bright lights outside. She felt her neck tingle in anticipation as she looked across to see the outline of a figure framed against the door. Dean was unable to stop himself from turning back to where he knew she was sitting.

The figure slowly turned to follow Dean’s gaze and looked across at her. She gasped involuntarily, and felt in that instant as if all the air had been had been squeezed out of her. Even across a room, in the darkness, through the haze and the maze of people, ……Paul Clarke! Oh, she could feel him looking at her, through her! Every fibre of her body, every cell, willed her to run across to him.

Paul narrowed his eyes, as if to reassure himself that what he had seen was real. He smiled, shook his head and drew deeply on his cigarette. He removed it from his mouth and exhaled very, very, slowly. ‘Of all the bar joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she had to walk into mine’. he said, to _no-one in particular, as he walked towards Dean.

‘Listen mate, I didn’t want to, I mean, I knew you wouldn’t like me to, but she really wanted to hear it’, said Dean.

‘Hey, Dean, listen it’s your song. I don’t have any right to ask you _not to sing it. I was completely out of order.’ said Paul, sitting down beside him. He looked across at the bar stool, then stood to look around the crowded bar. Helen had gone.

‘Oh God, did you see where she went Dean?’ asked Paul

‘No, I didn’t. Sorry. She seemed, you k_now, really sad. She seemed much more grown up as well’, Dean responded.

‘You k_now she never even said goodbye, never came back for her clothes’.

‘I k_now mate, I k_now’ said Dean

‘I was completely gutted. I couldn’t imagine life without her. Did she say why she was here?’ asked Paul

‘No, there wasn’t time, I had to start singing again, my set wasn’t over. It isn’t over _now. Shall I ask Trev to put on a cd?’

‘No, you started to sing it, so sing it Dean.’

‘No Paul, I don’t think so, you don't really want to hear it’.

‘You played it for her, _now play it for me. Play it Dean’

‘OK bossman, calm down.’ Dean closed his eyes, and started to sing again.

‘…straightens my lapels, says it’s easily done……..’

Paul walked slowly towards the door, and looked out at the crowds as they laughed and stumbled their way along the seafront. After a few moments he turned, shouted to attract the barman’s attention, and threw his keys back across to him. ‘Lock up for me Trev’, he shouted.

‘OK Paul, cheers mate!’ said Trev, effortlessly catching them before returning to cheerfully polish the glasses, oblivious to the drama around him.

Paul walked out of the bar, through the crowds, bumping heedlessly into them.

‘Oooy, what’s your game?’ shouted one of them after him, but Paul walked on blindly towards the water’s edge. ‘Ere, Kev, int that the bloke wot was on Big Brother, him that was always in the den with that Helen?’

‘Yeah, I reckon it was. She left him you k_now, at the church!’ said Kev.

‘Poor sod. Oh well, where shall we go _now?’ he asked, already disinterested as they staggered further along.

Paul looked along the beach and out to sea. He was shaken. He had thought he was getting over it, but _now he could feel her, taste her. She was somewhere close, and he knew he wanted to be with her, _no matter what the cost, _no matter how much it hurt.

‘Hello Mr Clarke’. He heard her voice and found to his surprise that he was suddenly crying. He knew the tears were pouring silently down his cheeks as he turned around, but it didn’t matter. He had to see her.

‘You look beautiful H’ he said simply. It was e_nough.

‘You look rough’ she said, looking at him with compassion.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, I’m fine mate’, he replied.

‘I don’t think you are Paul, and I don’t blame you. I hurt you didn’t I?’ asked Helen.

‘I’d be lying if I said you didn’t. I would be lying. I was absolutely gutted. I didn't k_now what I'd done wrong. I thought it was what you wanted. The wedding, Hello, everything’ said Paul

‘It was Paul, it really was but…..’

‘Was it him H, was it seeing him?’ asked Paul, _not really wanting to hear her answer.

‘It was’ she answered.

‘Right’ said Paul, reaching for a_nother cigarette as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. ‘Fair e_nough. After all, I can’t really talk can I? I did the dirty on him. If it’s what you want, fair do’s. So why come here _now? Is he with you?’

‘No Paul, _no, he’s never been ‘with’ me,’ she replied.

‘Then why, why, did you do that to me?’ said Paul . ‘I don’t understand, I thought we were going to be together forever.’

‘It’s a long time Paul’

‘Forever? Yeah, that’s the idea. I wanted that’.

‘Did you really Paul?’

‘I thought you did!’ he said

‘But I didn’t think you did really. I talked to him and he asked me if I thought I was being fair to you, marrying you. I thought, he’s right, I’m _not being fair. Mr Clarke hasn’t had _no choice. So I left. I done it for you Paul Clarke, I done it for you. Anyway, I’ve got to go _now’, said Helen.

‘Why, who are you with?’

‘I’m with Rhoda and Paul and Robyn and Jackson. We been staying over the other side of the island’.

‘Right’

‘We got to go home today. Later today I mean’

‘Right’

‘So I’ll go then’

‘You better’

‘Oh, Paul.....’

He moved back quickly as she stepped towards him. ‘Night then,’ he said.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the sand, looked up at her, turned sadly and walked away.

Helen sighed and made her way back to the little hire car to begin her journey back to her hotel and out of his life forever.

The airport, that evening, at 11pm.

‘Will all passengers for RY 610, the 23.40hours flight to Cardiff please go to gate number 7’, boomed the tan_noy.

‘That’s it then’, said Helen ‘Let’s go’.

‘Oh, Helen, did you really talk to him?’ asked Rhoda.

‘I tried, I tried to, but I haven't got any right to ask him to listen.. I really hurt him Rhoda. He was cryin’. Love him. ‘

‘You’ve got to go back, talk to him again, get a later flight!’

‘No, I can’t, I just can’t’, said Helen sadly.

Rhoda looked past Helen's shoulder at a figure running towards them.

‘Turn round Helen,’ said Rhoda

‘Why, what’s going on?’

A voice behind her said, ‘You just can’t what Helen?’

Helen turned around to see Paul, still gasping for breath from his run across the airport.

‘Paul!’, she cried

‘H.............’

‘Oh Paul, you came!’

‘You knew I would’

‘But how?’

‘I phoned your mum’

‘Did you?’

‘Yeah, I did. And she said ‘about bloody time’.

‘She never!’

‘She bloody did, and I told her, I said you’re right Lizzie’

‘Did you? Why?’

‘Because I had to’

‘You had to?’

‘Yeah, because I knew, when I saw you I knew’

‘Knew what?’

‘Last call for passengers on the RY 610, 23.40hrs flight to Cardiff. Please go to gate number 7 _now’, boomed the tan_noy.

‘ I knew that if I didn’t, I would regret it. Maybe _not tonight, maybe _not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of my life. Come here Helen. We have to be together.’

‘Oh Paul, can we just go back to Hadley Wood?’

‘It’s waiting for you H. Like I’ve been waiting’.

‘Rhoda?’ said Helen, turning to to her friend.

‘I k_now Helen’ she replied. 'I k_now'.

‘We’ll be back soon’

‘I’m so happy for you both. We'll see you back home’

‘Bye Rhoda, bye Paul, Robyn, Jackson, Bye’ she waved, as they disappeared through the gate.

‘Bloody hell, Paul Clarke!’ shouted Helen.

‘What’s the matter H?’

‘I ain’t got _no bloody clothes, _nothing, they’re all on that plane!’

‘So for starters, you’ll have to sleep in the buff!’

‘That’s _not so bad then……’ said Helen, laughing as they walked out of the airport.

‘Can we still get married then Paul?’

‘Yeah, but _no fuss, _no Hello, just a quiet one!’

‘OK then’

‘Paul?’

‘Yeah?’

‘How about abroad?’

‘We could do H, we could do. Here?’

‘No, I was thinking America’

‘Florida? OK, It’s nice there’

‘No I was thinking Las Vegas, the Chapel of Love................’

‘You make me laugh Helen’

‘Do I, why?’

‘You just do’………………………………………………………………..




And _now ROB disappears into the mist, seeking urgent psychiatric aid.

[Legally blonde]

ROB, I've been reading your stories about H&P and they're just amazing! Is there any chance of getting a new one..?

[Romantic Old Bird]

Hello again! I'll try to do another one eventually. They are a bit time consuming though, and we don't have much very new information to work on.

Now if Paul gets on with accepting the inevitable and proposing, and we have a wedding, I promise you I'll be very busy!

Mind you, I think the 'Heat' interview in pretty good, and not all that different to my stories!

Perhaps I should send my stories to the editor and ask for a series!

[Legally blonde]

Originally posted by Romantic Old Bird


Mind you, I think the 'Heat' interview in pretty good, and not all that different to my stories!

Perhaps I should send my stories to the editor and ask for a series!

I noticed that too, and thought it was really funny. You could almost pretend to be an "insider" and sell your exclusive story. I'm sure everyone would believe it

[1_In_A_Million]

hi

[BusyBee]

ROB - fellow mad woman - Dont forget that when the inevitable happens and the great day dawns you have already been appointed TIBB wedding journalist and, accompanied by your buzzing friend carrying the microphone and recording machine, will be getting that exclusive interview with the newly married couple.

Although it may be that Helen may find it difficult to get her new husband back once we get near him

It is not if, but when.

[Sticks]

How do you know they won't split

Splitting is all the rage now

[cc100]

why be negative?

even you sticks must admit theyve got something a bit different?

[Sticks]

Originally posted by cc100
why be negative?

It pays better plus we get wittier lines.

I'm quite positive about my negativity.

[cc100]

being negative means youre never suprised?

how about nice surprises?

or are you like craig from bb6 and revel in others misery?!

[Sticks]

Originally posted by cc100
being negative means youre never suprised?

how about nice surprises?

Surprises are seldom nice.

Originally posted by cc100
or are you like craig from bb6 and revel in others misery?!

I take no pleasure in what I do

My function is to keep you on the ground. It is a job I have to do

Remember what happened to Iccarus

[cc100]

Iccarus was fictional and has no relevance in modern society.

[Sticks]

Originally posted by cc100
Iccarus was fictional and has no relevance in modern society.

It is still a good morality tale of someone flying beyond the safe limit.

[cc100]

Originally posted by Sticks

It is still a good morality tale of someone flying beyond the safe limit.

Do you not feel it is good to take risks occassionaly?

[Sticks]

In today's world we have to be risk free

[Romantic Old Bird]

We cannot live without taking risks.

Breathing - who knows what's in every cubic litre we inhale?
Food - unless we prepare every last crumb from seed to table - and then what about the soil, the water?

I could go on....

Not to mention the fact that unless we go out and experience life, how do we know we are living?

[Sticks]

But in today's world we are to reduce all risks to zero. Our lawyers and insurance companies insist upon it.

[cc100]

Blimey Sticks!

There just 2 peeps in love- let them be!

lol

[Sticks]

Sorry to drag this old thread up from this old area

Is it not time that all of ROB's threads were locked.

They can still be read, but at least they can never be adulterated by future trolls especially as ROB is sadly no longer with us.