PROGRAMME: Keith Chegwin's Circus of Shame

Lights! Music! Cue Barrymore!

Enter stage left M Farfarr et les Oeufs Nautiques. A song! A dance! An explosion of lust and psychosis! The sheer poetry, the liquid movement of M Farfarr's jolly harlots is surely something to behold. Truly one has not lived until one has sampled the fleshy delights of their Dance of the Pee-Pee. How can I put it into words? I... I... I can't! I can't! That would almost certainly be blasphemy and I believe - I believe, I do - that, were I to do such a thing, I would spend an eternity in damnation, watching helplessly as the poor peel the skin slowly from my buttocks. Ouch! The agony!

But what is this I hear? What is it? HARK! 'Tis the jingle-jangle leg bells of the Warped and Delicious Clown Clown Boo. And what does he do? Does he prance as a drunken angel 'pon the grave of his neglectful mother? Does he cry, "MERDE! MERDE! ET TOUJOURS MERDE!" at the top of his lungs while the ebola virus swiftly removes his outer layers? Does he powder his own skeleton with a giant mortar and pestle? Yes! Yes! Oh, YES! He DOES! Really, this is too much! Stop it, you're killing me!

Hurry now. Step forth into the Ever Worsening Chamber of Filth, where Ninth Mary and her Perpetual Echoes of Tortured Souls command the earth and the skies in a heartfelt lament for a broken cassette copy of TLC's 'Crazysexycool'. It is a moment that will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Ah, weep, ye. Weep, for here cometh the last of the night's entertainments. The magic of Lino Kafka is bound - contractually bound - to permanently blind all those who see it. Backed by house band Velvet Crush (playing highlights from their meisterwerk 'Teenage Symphonies to God'), Lino Kafka turns a jar of human feet into a golden river of urine that swirls and corrodes all it touches. But is it really urine? Or is it very thin bile? Think about that... Now stop! For - BEHOLD! - giant doves of sin flap effervescently from his anus. Did you see it? FUCK ME, DID YOU SEE IT? HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN YOUR FUCKING LIVES? HAVE YOU?!? Now hushhhhhh... gaze in silent awe as Lino Kafka disrobes to reveal a body fashioned entirely from mousetraps. A volunteer from the audience, if you please. What's that? Can I touch it? It's very big, isn't it? Now put it there. Do as I say! A-HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA! Did that hurt? Did it? Oh, my God... And for my last trick, I require... a brain. A brain is squished with a sledgehammer. What more do you need, dear audience? What more could you possibly want? Could there be any more fitting an end to Keith Chegwin's Circus of Shame? He who would say 'twere so is surely a fool. A fool who must lie face-down upon the cold, cold train tracks in the vicious night. And here the show ends.

Now begone! I wish to be alone...