The Prozac chosen to drag the deadenders out of their depression is Carry On star Barbara Windsor, the blonde, bubbly, little lady who made her name enticing the likes of Sid James and Kenneth Williams to her ample bosom. What storylines can we look forward to when she hits the streets of Walford?
The door of the Queen Vic opens. A large white camel appears to enter the bar, but on closer inspection turns out to be a vast bosom. Arriving at least a minute and a half after the bosom is its owner, a small, bleached blonde, who turns out to be the mother of Grant and Phil, the Brothers Kalashnikov. She approaches Grant, who is serving behind the bar. Arthur, who is standing at the bar, begins to perspire as he scans the cleavage like an Olympic skier pondering a difficult run.
Arthur: 'Ere, Grant, she's a bit of all right, your Mum, i'n't she?
Mum: Ooh, saucy. What's your name, then?
Mum: 'Alf a man's better than none, that's what I always say . . . ooh, saucy. Wot you do, then?
Arthur: Allotments. I've got some lovely vegetables.
Mum: I'll bet you 'ave . . . ooh, saucy. 'Ow big's your carrots, then?
Grant: (taking out a machete) 'Ere, you givin' me Mum an 'ard time, Arfur?
Mum: Not as 'ard as I'd like, I can tell you . . . ooh, cheeky.
Arthur: 'Ere, I didn't know you liked vegetables.
Mum: Well, I married one . . .
Sharon: (from the back of the bar) Gave birth to two, as well]
Arthur: 'Ere, you wanna talk to me son, Mark. 'E's got a fruit 'n' veg stall down the market. Talk to 'im nicely an' 'e'll give you a free marrow.
Mum: Ooh, saucy.
Phil: (entering the pub) All right, Mum?
Grant: It's all right, bruv. I'll get it sorted, yer big tit.
Mum: Ooh, that's no way for a son to talk about his muvver's figure.
Arthur: (as Mark approaches) This is my boy I woz tellin' you about. Only one fing, though . . . you'd better tell 'er, Mark.
Mark: Er . . . I'm HIV.
Mum: Ooh, I don't mind that, me old darlin'. I've 'ad lots of lorry drivers.
Pauline: (entering the Vic and storming up to Arthur) Woss goin' on 'ere, then?
Arthur: Oh, Pauline, this is Phil and Grant's Mum.
Pauline: (giving Mum a disapproving once-over) Breastfeeding for two, is she?
Mum: Ooh, bitchy.
Sharon: (returning to the bar) Woss goin' on 'ere, then?
Grant; Iss all right. Sharon, I'll 'andle it.
Mum: As the actress said to the bishop . . . ooh, saucy.
Arthur: (as Pat, too, joins the fray, Arthur looks from Mum's to Pat's to Sharon's breasts) Cor, blimey] Talk about the mountains comin' to Mohammed.
Mum: Ooh] 'Oo's been a naughty boy, then? 'Oo's going to get a smacked bottom? C'mon, come to muvver's breast.
Pat: (gazing enviously at Mum's cleavage) Ha] He'll be lucky. You'd need a tent, crampons and three days' supply of food to climb that, Arfur. There are easier summits.
Pauline: Hmph] Bet they don't come easier than 'er.
Grant: 'Ere, wot you sayin' about me muvver?
Kaffy: (entering the bar) 'Ere, Phil, we gotta get this sorted.
Phil: Kaffy, I've told you, I can't see as much of you when me Mum's in town.
Kaffy: I can't 'andle this. I mean, woss goin' on? You gone all Oedipus on me, or wot?
Mum: Ooh, saucy.
The lights go down on yet another episode of EastEnders, as Grant calls last orders. Pauline hits Arfur over the head with a glass, Kaffy throws her drink at Phil. Sharon throws a drink at Grant. Pat drinks every other drink that's left. Carry On Up Yer Yentob. We can't wait.
Miles Kington returns next weekReuse content