Dave: You know how it’s all been a bit taboo to fancy that Sharleen Spiteri?
Mark: What? The Chris Evans thing?
Dave: The Evans thing, obviously. But there’s that whole other thing about being scared to admit to people that you fancied her a little bit. You know? Not much, just a little bit, even though everyone you know fancied her a little bit. But no one at the time could ever admit it. Because if you ever did that during the mid to late nineties you’d basically be admitting that you shared similar tastes to Chris Evans
Mark: Yeah, I remember when that was on the front of Heat. They never followed that one up much. What happened to Sharleen?
Dave: She got fat, didn’t she? Trouble is, by that point she couldn’t even get on the front cover of Heat if she got shin and forehead cellulite and turned up to a celebrity kids’ preview of the next pile of Pixar bullshit with thick Devonshire custard running down her inner thigh into the mouth of some disillusioned kid wearing skinny jeans and twatty pointy shoes that thinks pretending to be a junkie that needs to suck custard from Sharleen Spiteri’s leg to maintain his addiction to being in Heat will give his band (that are “heavily influenced by The Libertines” But “Not in that Way”) some kind of kudos with the kind of cunt that reads Heat and that the exposure from his fake-junkie custard sucking will skyrocket his band’s video onto TMF and maybe even 4Music.
What do you think happened next chief?
Mark: I don’t know. I don’t care.
Dave: Oh come on. It’s obvious.. She saw the way the wind was blowing with the whole Any Winehouse/Duffy shit copying of sixties women singers while having a beehive hairdo, so she started copying sixties women singers and she sported a beehive hairdo. She was copying them sixties women singers like a bastard, and as an added bonus, she was shit. But as you can imagine, it got her on Jools Holland. There’s a point to this, by the way chief.
Mark: I was just about to ask if this was another anec-dave. Seeing as it probably is; when is this going to end?
Dave: No it’s quite good this chief, worth sticking around for.
Mark: I’m sure, but can you finish early or something? Like some premature cock-gasm, but out of your mouth?
Dave: Shut up.
Still I saw her on Jools Holland. All fat, very shit and sporting a beehive hairdo and I thought, I still would, you know? Wallop! Spunk up right on her back! So I suppose my question is, if there has to be a question, is do you think it’s still taboo to fancy Sharleen Spiteri,? Bearing in mind that on the plus side she’s no longer shagging Evans, but on the negative side she somehow managed to become even shitter musically since her days with Texas and she's gotten fat.
Mark: Is this turning into one of those times where it’s not a competition, but, it is really?
Dave: “Not a competition, but, it is really?” I like it chief. What are we competing over?
Mark: Who can say the crudest thing about Sharleen Spiteri, even though she’s all fat and even shitter musically than ever.
So “Wallop” and “Spunk up on her back” are the best you can come up with, yeah?
Dave: Yeah. That’s about all I want to do to her now she’s all fat and somehow even shitter musically than ever.
Mark: Well then in the interests of winning the competition, I’d like to suggest that instead of feeling any “wallop” or however you described your inept cervix poking earlier, with me she’d feel like all her orifices were alleys that had been smashed up by hooligans several times over. And instead of “spunk up on her back” she’d feel like all her organs, including her brain, had been glossed all shiny in gloopy white Mark essence. I’d even do it after you had; does that win me the competition?
Dave: You’d do all that to Sharleen Spiteri? Just to win a competition?
Mark: I’d say I would.
Dave: You fucking pervert. She’s all fat. And she is shitter musically than she’s ever been ever. And she has a shit beehive hairdo. And she’s shagged Chris Evans; a stain like that never goes away. It’s taboo to ever admit to fancying Sharleen Spiteri, you stupid fucking pervert.