As you don't know the main character who is abused in this, a Mr Ian Murray of Hunts Cross, I shall explain a bit about him to you. Ian is (contary to many veritable opinions) a male. Up to 18 months ago, he was bearable - JUST. But then came along Role Playing games which started off harmlessly enough, you know, the odd "Chop His FUCKING HEAD OFF NOW SCUMBAG" and "Shit!, a 10E Crit!!", but then he started to get obsessed by this, it came to a head when he did two very silly things - He spent £300 on RPGs then sold them for £250 and put these games before his O levels. Now he just phones up Pat for hours saying things like "If my character gets just one A crit, then I will have four million ex points which will mean that I will be level quirkdy quarf and have my head really up my arse about this. By the way, how much is £300 pounds worth?".

Please note : Parts of this text, I have half inched from the Young Ones Book by Ben Elton. So if you feel like sueing me for copyright, then this doesn't exist and I can prove it!.

It is the 23rd March 1989 and Mr P. Donaghue is 18 and has decided to do the most silliest thing in the world - throw a party with the New Heys 6th form being invited.

Now it may not seem totally silly that a man of such stature should throw a party, the silly bit is going through with it!. You may think that driving a jumbo jet into the side of a mountain is silly, but to do such a thing in March and even worse, by Southport, is way out.

Anyways up, lets analyze (ooer, sounds a bit rude doesn't it!), the past of parties.

The first recorded party was in 55BC when booze was invented by some arsehole in Milton Keynes. Yes, MILTON KEYNES was about in 55BC, and you thought that it was only a small place in the middle of England, well have I got news for you.

In 56BC, the then Labour government decided to create a boom town were the then equivalent of Yuppies could live in relative squalor but as most of them have the brain of a boiled pea, the council could charge as much as they thought they could get away with. Then, just after 10 past 3 in 54BC, Milton Keynes decided to leave Earth for more adventure as even then it was just a concrete jungle.

MK packed itself into three suit cases and left the Earth on the old MPTE 66 bus route. Getting off just by Mars, which (here they come), is in the Galaxy which is part of the Milky Way and to get there, MK had to go through a Marathon before they could reap the Bounty and get the Lions Bar of the part of a new world which is called Topic (well, I couldn't think how to get it in!). But it got bored and came home in 1979AD.

Anyway, back to this original party, it was a bit of a disaster. No-one came. The bloke involved, a Ianni Murros, had invited the entire population of the world in the hope that some-one would have turned up. But for one reason or another, the entire world didn't come. I say that no-one came, this was a bit of a lie as some tramp came in off the street, beat up and robbed Ianni, then pinched the food and drink and pissed off. In Ianni's defence, Ianni had started yelling that he had a +55 sword of infinite bollocks and would hit him if he didn't sling his hook. The beggar pinched it.

The next party was in Rome, when for no apparent reason, the main dude at that time, whilst totally ratted, yelled to his best mates - "How about ruling the world?. Wouldn't that be a fuckin' great laugh!". His mates agreed but unfortunately, they weren't as pissed as Caesar and took him up on his word.

Things got a bit out of hand, but the Romans had an army which was slightly better than the Millwall supporters club. The ruler of England at this time was someone called In Moray II and had an army which was shite. They were all armed with totally indestructible character sheets but no weapons. Rome did a German Job - walked in and won. Poor old In's sheet was knackered. Even with a dexterity factor of +2 and strength +3, In was killed dead by someone doing obscene acts to him, which In would not have put up for but was tied to a large pole. England was lost.

Rome, as we know, was buggered up by some guy called Jesus, who was a total wet and made even Gandhi look violent!!!!.

This Jesus was a bit of a kill joy, but on the day of his capture, he held a final fling, which was also the first recorded instance of a gate crasher and a party pooper.

This is best described in the original Bible of 1989 which says this:

"And lo, for it was the time for when the LORD¹ was to be nabsed by the Romans for not being in the party² spirit and being a total kill joy. The party was a slow one. No music, (well there was an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical³ but that's not music!), no birds, nothing. Just the LORD and his 12 best mates and one total and utter prick, and they were bored⁴ senseless at the meaningless drivel he was saying. Then from by the big tree which Peter was sitting by⁵, a loony in costume did jump out and the LORD did exclaim⁶ : 'Sheeittt!. Who the hell are you?. I didn't invite you, now PISS OFF!!". And all the deciples were sure shocked⁷ at what the LORD did just say to this man. But the LORD did continue 'This is a private party you smelly old fart, I didn't fucking well invite you, and these didn't, so bugger off or I'll fucking kill you!'. John⁸, while all of this melee was going on, had a bit to much to drink and was starting to become depressed. Iyan (who was the 13th deciple), did complain to J.C. saying that John had been pulling out the little curly hairs on⁹ his legs and could he stop it.

But at this, Jesus did poke Iyan in the eye with a close by stick. And all did laugh. For Iyan was to be a Party Pooper¹⁰ and a total spoil sport. 'Oh Fuck!' exclaimed Iyan and did piss off to his daddy crying. Now his daddy was a Bastard¹¹ and did inform the guards to the were abouts of J.C. And the guards did go and arrest J.C. for this.

The deciples did find out it was¹² Iyan who was the snitch and did fire bomb his house for being such a bastard."

The next mega party was when Germans in 1939 held the biggest ever do in Poland.

The Brits and Russia hadn't been invited which was a bit of a pig as the Brits loved a good party. Soon however, Germany went from Poland and into France do continue the fun.

The crouts also tried to get into Russia, but the Commies wouldn't let it. And so the party became violent and England started fighting. But it was all in good fun, anyone would have thought that we were at war!!!

And now THIS. The P.D. party were all are invited. But who will actually come to it?. Well you can be sure that there will be a Mr Fixit, Mr Farty Liberal Wimp, Mr Neo-nazi, Mr Can't hold his drink, Mr Pratt, Ms Depressed and Miss Sex Kitten. Each of which have been at every party since the dawn of time - Except at Ianni Morrus's one!.

MR. FIXIT. He is the one who can do anything, beat everyone at anything, mend anything, do anything and is a total knob-job. He will inevitable make the punch and it will be an alcoholic disaster-piece. It'll have in it every drink under the sun and taste soddin' disgusting!. He'll fix the buffet so that every one will get food poisoning. Don't let him bring along the music, it will all be Stock/Aitken/Waterman jobs or Bob Dylan or Dire Straits, all of which have been taped on a tiny tape recorder off the worst reception possible on Radio 1.

MR. FARTY LIBERAL WIMP. The biggest wet going. He's the sought who wouldn't lift a finger to save himself from drowning or going to an Acid House party without considering the ethics and political implications, which will mean he will have either of drowned or been smashed on Ecstasy. Always the one who will ask for a small glass of lager shandy which is not from South Africa and is also the pratt who plugs in your computer to the wrong socket and blow he thing up, then come down and deny ever seeing it because of the trouble it will cause. Never throws a party because he never knows who to invite. Total opposite to Mr Neo- nazi.

MR. NEO-NAZI. Mr mega butch himself. Usually the one who can out drink, out screw, out eat, out kill, out examination, out get food poisoning, out dance, everybody else in the party. Also incredibly violent and uses Mr Farty Liberal Wimp as a slave. Gets all the girls and is a total bastard. Last offence : Ripping off the authors head and then making him listen to the Birdy Song.

MR. CAN'T HOLD HIS DRINK. One glass of beer and he's gone. Out for the count at a pint of lager, pukes at 1¼ pints of drink. Very unpopular at parties were the thrower has recarpeted with shag pile.

MR. PRATT. He's a bit like Mr Farty Liberal Wimp but isn't quite as farty or wimpish or for that matter Liberal, so forget what I just said. Usually the twerp who keeps wanting to play Trivial Pursuits in the Dirty Movie room/sex room or keeps talking about RPGs when trying to get off with some bird who looks like the back end of a tug and is still physically allergic to Mr Pratt.

MS. DEPRESSED. The MORRISEY fan. Sits in the corner, drinks herself stupid, mopes, pukes, lets rip and enjoys the smell, doesn't dance or be generally sociable and no-one quite knows who actually invited her. Can be fun as the object of being made fun of (except by Mr Farty Liberal Wimp who tries to defend the minorities until Mr. Neo-nazi wants another girl/ drink.), or if you can make her laugh, the best thing since slicing Ian's MERP character sheet into 1 billion little bits, jumping up and down on them and laughing as you do!. From Jupiter.

MISS SEX-KITTEN. The one who everyone tries to kop off with, and hates Mr Neo-nazi. Only one who will get her is Mr Farty Liberal Wimp. Usually has the erotisim of some sort of primeval Jaguar on heat and says she has the hots for who-ever will get her the next drink. Wears low-cut dresses which exposes more cleavage than is decent before becoming cert. 18. When she gets up in the morning, she looks like something that the cat has just bought in - so much for Miss Sex-kitten.

NOTE: This will probably be the only good bit in the whole thing. To get around the copyright laws, I've used some of my own words instead of the ones in the book, they just happen to be the same and in the same order as in the book. Mainly because I don't believe in the political aspects of the book and also I thought it may have been a good idea at the time. Here goes. By the way, if you'd rather read the original version, turn to pages 23/24. Even though the pages don't have any numbers on them. The word FUCK, has been changed to BONK cause me dad'll probably get to see the rough copy.

"Everybody has had one good party. You remember the one, when you didn't puke all over your latest Monty Python LP, or you didn't spend the whole evening trying to get off with someone who is physically allergic to you. And didn't bump into some dildo who knows the Parrot sketch off by heart and become totally bored and try to murder him by pretending to be interested as these farty types are solely there to be tedious and uninteresting - a bit like I.M.

"BASICALLY, the only good party is the one SOMEONE else held that you didn't go to. But if you hold a party here are some of the essential rules.

"1. Don't allow your room to be the 'Coats Room'. In party terms, COAT ROOM becomes SNOG ROOM. I mean, what's more comfortable than screwing the bot off some sex kitten then to do it on 58 different coats and a bean bag?.

"2. If you're GOING to a party don't put your coat in the coat room unless you want it to be covered in unmovable yellow stains and an arm full of rubbers!

"3. Don't carpet the toilet the day before the party as it also will be ruined by some dick head peeing on it after drinking a gallon and a half of Figstons old peculiar and Watnees red barrel.

"4. Don't hold the wrong sort of party. The right sort are the cancelled ones or ones were there is a boy-girl ratio of 1 boy to 3 girls and the girls all between 17-21 with boobs that make Maria Whittakers look tiny!.

"THE WRONG SORT OF PARTY - The Liberal Democrats