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Welcome To AllenTV!
Topic Started: Nov 7 2007, 12:06 PM (40 Views)
Spann
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I'm just a soldier. I'm not worthy.
[ *  *  * ]
Normal transmission is suddenly interupted by static, followed quickly by the station's 'Technical Problems' sign. Slowly, another picture can be seen forming, through waves of static and white noise. Then, without warning, Nick Allen's beaming face can be seen in the screen.

NA: Hi, boys and girls. Welcome to AllenTV!

A collage of shots is now shown on screen. "Daddy Cool" by Boney M plays over shots of Nick Allen, drinking and laughing in the pub, enjoying a game of football in the park, drinking and laughing in the pub again, grinning inanely at the camera as he suckerpunches a man to the floor, necking pints in the pub, walking through an unnamed city centre in the pitch black, being partially carried by two of his friends, then finally unlocking the door of a tiny terraced house, and falling in. All the way through the collage, phrases like "What a guy", and "Perfect Gentleman" roll across the screen.

Screen fades to black, then comes back to Allen, facing the camera, walking down the street, towards the camera.


NA: Well then. If you, the great viewing public, are viewing this, then it's worked. My, uh... associates and I have... well... erm... OK, hijacked, this station in order to bring you this special Bushwhacker Productions presentation: - Getting to know Nick Allen.

Allen turns to another camera, giving a thumbs up and a toothy grin (to which a cheesy glint and 'ching' sound has been added), then returns to the main shot

That's right. In the next few minutes, you're gonna get to know the man behind the jokes, and see what I get up to. So come with me, on a magical journey, inside the life of NIIIIIIICK AAAAAAALLEN!

A very rough cut to Allen sat in his local pub, watching the telly

NA: So, here we are. Any biographic on me should always start here, my second home. This, ladies and gents, is the Dog and Duck, on Millwall high street. Been drinking here since I was old enough to put the teat of my bottle onto halfs of bitter - mum brought me up well. So yeah, I've been coming here all my life, and through that time I've met some fantastic guys - One eye Eric, Hopalong Anderson, Gary little arm, and my oldest mate, Deaf Jim. 'Course, they're all inside now. Caught robbing the local off licence. Still, it's their own fault, I don't think there was one fully working bloke between them. But, I'm digressing. This is where me and the lads start our weekends in style. In for a cheeky five or six in here, maybe a bit of a ruck with some wankers on the way down to the ground, and then back in here for some very cheeky ones, 'til we pass out or run out of money.

During the last few sentences, a brawl has begin behind Allen. He turns and eyes up the young lads throwing punches at each other

NA: Excuse me.

Allen storms over behind one of the gents, and gently taps him on the shoulder. The youth turns, cigarette in mouth, and glares, initially, at Allen's chest. The initial smirk on his face disintegrates as he keeps tilting his head back, until he can see Allen's face. Allen then picks up the two culprits by their collars, and deposits them squarely on the concrete outside the building. Stopping only to pick up their half finished pints, he returns to his position.

NA: Youngsters, today. Take themselves too seriously. Anyway, its 2 o'clock, its time we were off to the match!

Brief shots of football fans outside the arena, waving scarfs, chanting, and generally being lairy. Also shown is Nick meeting up with his friends.

Cut to inside the ground Allen is now turned in his seat, facing the camera in the row behind him. Behind his head one can see the match going on.


NA: Right then. It's the 89th minute, We're three-nil up, and it's the derby game. If anything's going to kick off, it's going to be soon. We've basically already won, our new striker was worth every penny. That bloody keeper of ours is a pile of shi...

An uprising on the pitch catches Allen's attention. He can see the away fans charging onto the pitch, and the Millwall faithful scaling the barriers to meet them.

NA:Right, here, we go!

For the next few minutes, all is confusion. All that can be seen or heard is flashes of light, peoples feet, dashes of screamed threats and warcries, people dropping to the floor, flying seats, blood, and swearing. The camera then catches a day-glo yellow tide approaching the rabble, indicating the arrival of the police. The crowd quickly disperses, as the camera goes quickly black.

After another rough cut, Allen can then be seen walking down the same street he was earlier, although heading the other direction. he has a few cuts and bruises here and there, but otherwise looks like the fight has had little affect on him.


NA: So after a good game of football and another swift little drinky, we head home. And that's where I'm taking you now, to meet my family.

Allen turns off the street he was on, onto a rundown looking road, complete with a burnt out car on the corner. The houses are caked with graffitti, and many have boarded up windows. After a short journey down the road, Allen turns through a gate, puts a key in the lock of a tiny, run down terrace, and lets himself in.

NA: Kids, I'm home!!

From upstairs, three tiny pairs of feet can be heard stampeding towards the front door. Allen's three children, two boys and a girl, quickly appear at the foot of the stairs and throw themselves onto Allen, hugging him, and shouting in joy that their father is home

NA: Right then, these little tearaways are the kids. This little bugger hanging on to my left arm is Shaun, the sod in the Superman cape who's about to jump of the stairs at me is Mike, and that little princess shying away from the camera over there is Jessica. Say hi, kids!

The three children then clamber onto the tiny stairway, in order to get into shot, waving at the camera, pulling faces etc. The camera stays on the children through the following discourse.

NA: So, kids, who's daddy fighting this week?

KIDS: (In rough childish unison) Jay Bain!!

NA: Yeah. Is daddy going to win?

KIDS: Yeah!!

NA: 'Course he is. Do we like Jay Bain, kids?

The children all blow rasberries and boo.

Camera turns back to Allen's face.


NA: Well, children never lie. Right kids, you lot shoot upstairs, and I'll be up soon, kay? Just have to say goodbye to Beanpole here, he's gotta have the camera back to college before anybody notices it's gone.

The kids charge upstairs, leaving the camera to follow Allen through the house, which is noticably in a state of disrepair, into the kitchen. It is a tiny room, with some cupboards not having doors, and huge gaps in the tatty linoleum on the floor.

NA: And this is my house. Not as nice as some of you out there might be used to I know, but it's where I live. Joking aside, though, those children are the single most important thing in this entire world to me. Their mum left three years ago, days after Jess was born. We don't know where she's gone, but we know we're going to manage on our own. That's why I do all this fighting shit - to try and provide for my kids. I haven't got brains, or style, I can't draw or sing, the only fucking thing I have is being able to handle myself, so if that's what I have to use to ensure that my kids don't have to live through the same upbringing I did: the poverty, not having enough money to heat the house in the morning and at night, eating whatever was cheap or mum could steal, not being allowed to answer the door in case it was the Bailiffs coming round. I don't want that for my fucking kids. That's why I put my body on the line everysingle fucking week. leaving them with their grandparents while I go away to potentially get myself disabled hurts more than you guys out there could believe.

A single tear rolls from Allen's eye

NA: Bet you've never seen a 6ft 7 guy cry, have you? Well, there you go. Told you you'd get to know me. Because behind all the merriment, the joking around, beneath all that bullshit, I am just a man who has dedicated his ENTIRE LIFE, his livelihood, his body, to making sure my children go on to be the successes they deserve to be. So, Bain, I hope THAT Is worth some of your precious fucking respect. Not that I need it from some pretty boy rich kid who's only just out of short trousers. Now, if you'll excuse me.

Allen then walks out of the back door, slamming it behind him. The camera stays frozen still for a second, before static quickly masks the picture, and normal service is resumed.
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