Gertrude’s Diary #108 – STop Gear

Top Gear incenses me, but there’s nothing else on television at 7.30 on a Monday night.  Tomorrow I’m putting the television into the shed, but for now, in order to transform this anger and resentment into something more positive, I offer here a retake of the testosterone-charged, fossil-fuel driven indulgence that regularly graces our screens.

INTRO:  Jeremy Clarkson

“This week I’m riding a bicycle to the shops.”  (puff, pant, strain)

“I asked for a titanium frame and racing slims, but because I’ve managed to offend so many people over the course of previous seasons of Top Gear, I’ve been given a 10 year old Repco girls’ bike with a deflating tyre and a disintegrating wicker basket strapped to the front.”  (note to producer:  I’m happy to offer my bike as the necessary prop. G.)

James May:  TO CAMERA

“So many viewers wrote to me screaming for revenge when Clarkson arranged for my beautiful piano to be squashed by a semi-trailer, that we’ve devised the following scenario.  Along the route to the shops we’ve positioned squadrons of amphetamine and rum-crazed petrol heads who are going to harass Mr Clarkson by beeping their horn, poking their bottoms out the window, opening the rear doors at strategic moments, and deliberately swerving into muddy puddles adjacent to Clarkson’s lycra clad arse.”

“And in case Clarkson tries to take the easy way out on the footpath, we’ve also enlisted the help of a few reversing cars, several out of control dogs, one or two oblivious pram-wielders, and some nails and broken glass.”

BACKGROUND:  Clarkson covered in mud, with flat tyre, dodging pedestrians, red-faced and sweaty, generally risible.  A few grazes probably wouldn’t hurt.  (note to producer:  If we set it in Canberra, then perhaps we could also get a flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos to fly into him?  It has been known to happen, and it would look great on film.)

Richard Hammond:  TO CAMERA

“Just because I’m the cutest member of the Top Gear UK crew, it doesn’t excuse me from the self-indulgent boy’s club antics in which I’ve participated.  That being the case, I’m going for a nice long walk.  I spent my whole budget for this episode on makeup and wardrobe, and now I can’t even afford bus fare.”

“I’m taking with me this French Poodle, donated by the good people of France, and specially trained to attack James May on sight.  This is in direct response to the fact that he made fun of Gerard Depardieu’s name in a deliberately obtuse and frankly childish manner that is clearly a sign of undiagnosed xenophobia.”

Producer:  TO CAMERA

“Sadly, none of our regular hosts returned from their expedition to the shops.  All we found were Jeremy Clarkson’s tattered lycra shorts with tyre marks on the back, James May’s ugly tweed coat with blood-stains and poodle bites evident at the throat, and the naked and babbling shell of Richard Hammond, a man completely shattered by a chance meeting with a posse of bogan chicks who imprisoned him in a pink fur-lined Holden Gemini for 2 weeks.”

FADE TO BLACK.

3 Responses to “Gertrude’s Diary #108 – STop Gear”

  1. Gertrude’s bloodthirsty side again on display…

  2. You’re the second person to imply my treatment of the Top Gear team is a bit harsh.

    Next week I’ll try to be nicer.

  3. Top Post, though why you limit yourself to this obscure website I cant imagine, I think the script could easily play out across the tv-waves- send it to the lame Australian Top Gear show, they could also use a regular commentary to pad out their padding. Or send it straight to the BBC, they could play the bike episode during Earth Hour, with the tellie off.