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Looking around this ancient hall it is clear that a great deal of cleaning up has been done...piled high as the ceilings are objects and animals....some faintly amusing, some faintly musical, some sugar-based, but all painfully familiar.
Here is a monkey...clutching at golf clubs, lollipops, push-me-pull-you lawn mowers, a forlorn look in his eye, evidence of many years of painful abuse.
Here is a pot of jam, almost empty. Unmarked.
Hanging above your head, a giant carrot, drooping and withered.
Walking further into the hall, you hear a faint whirring...a machine noise. Peeling back a cobweb you step into a clearing among the junk...in it are six bizarrely oversized microwaves, each containing a casket which you take to be the coffin - an inscription is bellow:

Contents - Terry, John, Eric, Michael, Terry, Graham.
Cooking Instructions - Bake until hard.

Slightly disturbed and inexplicably confused, you head out of the opening to another great chasm, surrounded by yoghurts, zebras, policemen and puffins. Only a low sound is audible...a scrabbling sound. Rounding a corner, you increase your pace, now desperate for an exit...several hundred feet in front of you a lone man is visible, frantically pulling seemingly random objects out of the junk and putting them in a big bag.
He is a bloody transvestite.

not really sure what would be considered spam. Perhaps I just don't get it.

And now for something completely different.

Where's the fish?

You did love him so.

Oh no, it's Mr Creosote!

I wonder what constitues spam in this thread...

Excuse me, is this the right room for an argument?

A Mr Death to see you, dear. He's in the reaping business.

The Stoning:

Jehovah, Jehovah, Jehovah !

"Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more!"

"You're all individuals!"
"I'm not."

I always wanted to be......a lumberjack!

From now on, you shall be called Brian that is called Brian.

You can't have babies, you haven't got a womb!

Morning, Saviour.

Don't you oppress me!

Just remember that....

[music starts]

Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour,
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the 'Milky Way'.

Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light years side to side.
It bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick,
But out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide.
We're thirty thousand light years from galactic central point.
We go 'round every two hundred million years,
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.

The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whizz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth,
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth.


[music out]

It isn't a question of where he grips it.

It's all a question of weight ratio.

There's naught wrong with gala luncheons!