As we rejoin In the Club dazzling MILF (Mother I’d Like to Fuck off) Roanna is desperate to squeeze cash out of Child Bride‘s parents now husbland has cancelled her credit card. Just to reiterate, Roanna doesn’t “care about the money” and is quite happy to walk away from the £3 million she is i) legally entitled to and ii) needs desperately. In an alarming volte-face though she jacks a few grand from her old cuntpany and decide she’s going to fight for what’s hers. Child bride’s mom tells her that he’s a suicidal sack of shit – a
completely predictable shocking piece of news which jolts Roanna into labour. The process of giving birth, not a political party. This bitch is clavicle deep in tax avoidance schemes Gary Barlow would snub as unethical.
Child bride’s mom tells her that he’s a suicidal sack of shit – a
completely predictableshocking piece of news
Her future mother-in-law is kind enough to give her a lift to the hospital and a superb birthing partner she makes too. When the baby comes it’s an entitled narcissistic member of the middle class of indeterminate gender. I think we can all agree the world needs more of those.
Over on the Alan Bleasdale wing Diane‘s shit husbland gets bail and her shit baby is on an incubator an inch from death. “It’s the fucked DNA” the doctor explains “I mean, you’re no prime specimen but fuckface over here? You let his rat jism loose on your ovaries you deserve everything you get. No offence”. Diane decides to call the baby Hope, something she’s shit out of.
Not faring much better is Jailbait Ginger who meets Britney, a disgusting chav also off to the Mother and Baby Hostel for the Parents of Future Felons. Red don’t like that so Kim brings her home to a cold room and the disgust of Susie and her twat son. Jailbait is sad. Again.
It’s a shitty day for Spunk Donor too who has to endure the unbearably needy Child Bride nausing him senseless. Child Bride needs a daddy figure as well as a mummy figure apparently. What an emotionally crippled slap magnet he is.
Still, it looks like Jasmin‘s doing OK. Just a bout of high blood-pressure – nothing serious. But when her real baby daddy, an Aryan solicitor called Jack, rolls up her charts show the kind of stress levels a girlfriend of Oscar Pistorius gets when she discovers an empty box of ammo and hears the stumpy shuffle of her cunt borefriend down the corridor. When Dev junior comes out with blue eyes and a blonde quiff it should be interesting, which would be a first for this show.
The verdict: Labour pains.
Marks out of 10: 5