THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE

EPISODE ONE
With special guest narrator, Brian Blessed

Hidden deep within the depths of humanity's collective soul lies the need for discovery. The need for truth! Few men can claim to have broken free from the mental prisons a cruel, unforgiving society has imposed upon them. Of those that have smashed these shackles of conformity, Gordon Ramsay is the one who strives for answers.

Known to millions worldwide as a Michellin star collecting chef of the highest repute, Ramsay seeks more than the fawning accolades bestowed upon him by an adoring, drunken public. He seeks the truth as if it were a cold, steel dagger burning deep beneath his tortured brow.

With his trusty sidekick, Limpar, a seven-foot-four-inch part-alien, part-Tibetan psychic warrior-monk, he travels the globe uncovering mystical treasures impossible to comprehend without the magnificence of a human brain.

Join Gordon and Limpar as they journey through the Aztecs battling the Skeletal Voodoo Priests of Mount Alagogo. Who knows what they will find at the mythical Temple of Pythonic Destruction? Treasure? Secrets? Or maybe.......DEATH! Find out next week exclusively in The Floating Banana Chronicles. Now only 40p!

THE AXL ROSE SPAGHETTI SUCKING CHALLENGE

After ten long years in the making, Guns n' Roses' latest album, Chinese Democracy, has finally leaked onto the web. To celebrate this momentous occassion, lead singer, Axl Rose, has pledged to dedicate the next ten years of his life to an entirely different sort of creative endeavour. The daredevil rocker has stunned fans by announcing on the band's website that he wants to break the world record for the longest amount of time taken to eat a single, solitary string of spaghetti.

The current record, held by eighty-five year-old Romanian fisherman, Iorghu Gheorghu, stands at an incredible nine years, four months, fifteen days, twenty-two hours, twelve minutes and thirty-one seconds. At a recent Ukrainian Spaghetti sucking convention, Gheorghu had these words of encouragement for the rock n' rolling pretender to his throne: "Mark my words, he will fail laughing in his own vomit!"

With the length of spaghetti currently measured at thirty-three and one third centimetres, Rose will have to get through less than one fifth of a millimetre per day if he's to stand any chance of breaking the record. When asked why he wanted to undertake this peculiar challenge, Rose replied: "Spaghetti is my muse, my lover, my passion and my curse. Without it civilisation would have been eradicted many years ago. I need this! I fucking need this! Get over it, bitch!"

The Floating Banana Chronicles will be there every step of the way on Axl's sucktacular journey, bringing up to the minute news as it happens. Reporting from Karachi, Pakistan, this is Jonas Salamander for T.F.B.C.

UWE BOLL TO DIRECT MARS MOVIE!

The Floating Banana Chronicles understands that oft-maligned German film maker, Uwe Boll, is in advanced talks with the American government to produce and direct NASA's planned 2011 manned mission to Mars. Top secret negotiations have been taking place between Boll and government officials since February and will be finalised once Boll's agent, Gerald Naschtkind, returns from a family skiing holiday in Austria. A clearly stunned Naschtkind had this to say upon learning of The Banana Chronicles' latest scoop: "How the hell did you find out? This is highly classified information. Do you realise the trouble that will be caused if this story breaks? Uwe would have to go back to working on shit like Alone in the Dark. Now, fuck off and die!"

Senior White House officials are believed to be desperate to keep the story under wraps as they've already promised NASA an A-list Hollywood director will be working on the project. Our top-secret source, RedRim, confirmed these worries: "Look, you've seen Boll's movies. They absolutely suck! Do you really think NASA wants to be associated with the guy who directed BloodRayne and Postal? They still think they're getting James Cameron and the shit is really going to hit the fan when this thing leaks. The sorry truth is that after bailing out Wall Street to the tune of a trillion dollars, the government can barely even afford someone of Boll's standard."

None of these concerns appear to be affecting the confidence of the German director. At a recent launch party for his latest direct to DVD movie, Seed, an irate Boll could be heard bragging to confused guests about his ability to top Stanley Kubrick's elaborate hoax for the 1969 Apollo Moon mission: "All I hear from zeze Vite Houze cunts is Stanley Kubrick ziz, Apollo mission zat. Just because he shot zat fat bitch, Neil Armstrong, jumping onto zom fake sand, everyone thinks he's some sort of fucking god! I could have made a better moon movie vit vun arm tied behind my back and a jumbo bratwerzt sausage rammed up my arze hole! It was zo fucking fake!"

Negotiations were scheduled to have been completed months ago in order for pre-production to begin. Production Costume designer, Jeane Lee, explains the hold up: "This deal should have been tied up in July. It was all agreed, the only thing needed was Boll's signature and pre-production could have commenced. Unfortunately, things are never quite that clean cut with Mr Boll. You see, a nice simple land on Mars, walk around for a bit, then get off of Mars approach isn't good enough for Uwe. He wants the astronauts to get attacked by this thing called "The Martian Angel of Death." He says it's a half scorpion, half humanoid, devourer of souls. The nightmare for us is that George W. Bush has bought into it hook, line and sinker. He's now refusing to commission the Mars project unless the Martian Angel of Death is guaranteed an appearance. He even wants the astronauts to all be killed so he can squeeze some money out of congress for weapons to go and fight this thing."

Despite the current impasse in negotations, White House officials expect Boll to sign once filming finshes on his latest movie, BloodRayne 3: Destruction of Dreams.

INTRODUCING PUPPETEERING

A day in the life of Noel Fratuloray, secret mind controller of George W. Bush
By Noel Fratuloray

Hi, folks. My name's Noel Fratuloray. I'm a 26 year old male from the small mining town of Nathanson, Colorado. I like fishing, drinking beers with my boys, sex......all the usual kinda things a regular guy does in his spare time. In terms of music, I live for Metallica. They are one motherfucking awesome, balls to the wall band. Rock on! I quite like watching Pimp My Ride and Lost, but it's no major biggy if I miss an episode or two. I like to live my life, not waste it staring at a box!

I've been employed by The Project Corrupt Mind Vanilla Group (P.C.M.V.G) since leaving college about three years ago. It's a great place to work and I've been lucky enough to meet some real nice people in my time there. Basically, my job is to manipulate and control George W. Bush's mind. I'm what's known in the industry as a puppeteer. It's a lot easier than it sounds, and to tell the truth, it's actually pretty boring. All I have to do is call George on the phone, say his SUNCOP (subconscious unlock code phrase), which is "trixie lust," and then read out a list of things for him to do during the day. The annoying thing is I don't even get to choose what's on the list. It's mainly a lot of stuff to do with money and weapons and laws and that kinda thing.

At the moment, I make the main chunk of my earnings in commission. If George does something which helps to make my bosses a load of cash, I get 0.0000001% of that sum added to my basic wage (a meagre $20'000 a year). It's enough to help pay off my student loans and keep me in beer for the month but that's about it.


What I'm really looking forward to is when I get to take George private, i.e, I get to choose what goes on his list of things to do. Basically, when the puppet is no longer of any use to P.C.M.V.G, the puppeteer is given the option of either "cutting the strings" for a one off $18'000 payment or of keeping the puppet "brain freezed" in order to raise private funds in any which way they see fit.

Now, I'm not gonna bore you with the ins and outs of private puppeteering, but let's just say the last P.C.M.V.G employee to take this option ended up making a very rewarding decision. His puppet, John Travolta, was originally used by P.C.M.V.G to help smear the Scientology group. This was achieved solely by having Travolta become a Scientologist. Once J.T had been decommissioned, the puppeteer took him private and managed to strike a six figure deal with a leading hair-transplant clinic whereby Travolta would "agree" to wear a series of bizarre, ill-fitting and easily identifiable wigs in his next five movie appearances.

New Man Hair Solutions PLC noticed a 14.3% rise in the number of follically-challenged men choosing hair transplants over hair pieces solely due to having seen Travolta's scruffy, nylon wig in the 2001 action film, Swordfish. Hair transplants are now an accepted and extremely lucrative form of cosmetic improvement for men and the Travolta deal played a big part in this success.

Anyway, back to George W. because this is where you come in. I need your ideas on how to make my puppet successful in the private sector. Ideas can be as wacky and out there as your brains will allow. All suggestions must be received by email or special mind transmission by the end of October '08. The winning contestant will get to meet George W. and also have a free day where they can program him to do anything they want him to. That's right, folks! If it's your dream to have George W. Bush wax your butt crack then maybe your dream might not be so impossible after all. Thanks for reading and good luck.

THE DEATH OF INSPIRATION

Now, one of the main advantages of being a fictional character is that you can do at will many things that ordinary beings of the flesh cannot. Take time travelling, for instance. This morning, I woke up and zoomed forward to the year 2045. Whilst there, I grabbed a cup of coffee and settled down to read the obituary section of my local community paper, Global World News Hourly. What I read shocked me to my very core! Here is an abridged version of the offending article.

ERIC VON MARKOVIK, MYSTERIOUS PICK-UP ARTIST, DEAD AT 74
By Chad Mertonic

Eric von Markovik, better known as Mystery, star of VH1's multi-award winning reality TV show, The Pick-up Artist, died on September 12 in Namibia, southern Africa. His tragic death occurred during filming for the new CBS show, King of the Wild, a Christmas Day special in which Mystery would take his "game" to the next level by seducing a variety of wild animal species native to the jungles of east Namibia.

In a recent interview with SeeVoQ Magazine, Von Markovik spelt out his latest musings on the venusian arts and how he planned to transport them from the hippest clubs of New York and San Francisco to the deepest jungles of Africa.

"Listen, there's only so much pussy a man can nail in one lifetime. Sometimes, you have to step it up a level and innovate if you want to move the game forward. In theory, there isn't a whole lot of difference between capturing the heart of a beautiful woman and getting a lion, monkey or giraffe to suck on your balls. I mean, really, how hard can it be? We're all fucking animals at the end of the day."


Tragically, what had seemed sound in theory turned into a sordid, degrading nightmare for Von Markovik in the all too real jungle playgrounds of Namibia.

After successfully seducing an eight month old spider monkey, a euphoric Mystery attempted to demonstrate his "negging" skills on a herd of stampeding elephants. Assistant cameraman, Mike Grovello, witnessed Mystery's slow, painful death with his very own eyes. "It was fucking horrible, man. Eric was so happy. He was on a real high after fucking that monkey. You could see the invincibility all over his face. Nothing was gonna stop him from taking those elephants."

Mystery's personal make-up artist, Shelly Lelong, picks up the story. "Eric never did have his penis circumcised and it ended up killing him. I don't think he was expecting his foreskin to get hooked on one of the elephant's tusks. He must have been dragged over hard, jagged rocks and hot sand for at least three miles before the skin ripped off. To then be gangbanged to death by fifteen hyenas was pretty awful."

ERIC VON MARKOVIK 1971 - 2045

R.I.P

1.

Hello, lovely people. Welcome to The Floating Banana Chronicles, a veritable feast of worthless shite written solely for the pleasure of your retina. My name is Elmundigor and I am your host and narrator. Here is a picture of me circa 1985. It was taken by a stranger using some sort of disposable Nikon camera.


I have since undergone extensive cosmetic surgery, which has rendered me completely unrecognisable from the image above. Although my new face has left me without my former powers of sexual magnification, it has kept me safe from the evil forces of Count Vodukoolor and his dirty minions. The Count's plan to destroy planet Earth is now in the final phase of its dastardly journey. Whilst we all wait helplessly for this despicable turn of events to occur, I shall try to keep you up to date with the latest news and celebrity gossip.......HOT, STEAMING, FRESH! Until that day, "conquistador velente" or goodbye.