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It had been decades since the A-Team had been called in for action, but recent crises in the Middle East and Kashmir meant someone would have to track them down. They were needed, urgently. Luckily their appearance in a pantomime in Blackpool meant they were quickly located, and although BA played an excellent Widow Twanky, his skills were required elsewhere.
48 hours later the A-Team were assembled in their HQ, in some random spot of anonymous American scrubland. Hannibal insisted on resuming the role of commander, although he was now stone deaf, incontinent and senile. He still had a cigar in his hand, but it was exactly the same one from 15 years ago which he had forgotten to re-light. BA was in good health, though had continued to grow since his TV appearances in the 80s. He towered at 9'6" and weighed a hefty 67 stone. The Faceman had changed too. In an effort to retain his looks, he had undergone extensive plastic surgery in the early '90s. It didn't really look right, so more 'enhancements' were made. This continued until 1999, when Face's face imploded during a scuba-diving trip and got washed away to sea. He now had no face at all, just 2 eyes, 2 nostrils, 2 ear-holes and a mouth on a big pasty lump. Murdoch was his same old comedy self though, and was thus laughing continously at Face's facelessness, BA's enormity and Hannibal's cigar problem.
When Murdoch had finally managed to stop laughing, he decided to take charge: being the only passable example of a sensible adult. Hannibal continued to bark orders at a lamp in the corner, but everyone ignored him. Clearly, assistance was needed... Murdoch rotored in the lesser known B-Team as back-up. The B-Team were essentially an understudy team of substitute 'soldiers' representing each of the A-Team: Ainsley Harriet (for BA), Sir Patrick Moore (for Hannibal), Richard Mately (for Face) and Jim Davidson (for Murdoch). With the A-Team and B-Team in joined force, surely nothing could stop them.
They arrived near the border of Afghanistan one week later. Unfortunately BA had refused to fly due to his persistent vertigo, but besides, his ridiculous size meant he couldn't be carried by any commercial airline. So he was still making his way through the Pacific on a big jetski. Ainsley thought he'd be able to manage the role though, so all was good.
The AB-Team (as it was now known) made their way through the mountains to begin their mission. They would lay trip-wires all over a road... it would knock-out all the bad-guys, and capsize all the nuclear-warhead carrying trucks. After they had fixed the string to a tree with some sellotape, they went to hide in the bushes to watch the consequences of their handywork. Hannibal tripped over the string and died. It didn't matter though.
As they peeked conspicuously from behind a small shrub, a Taliban soldier crept up behind them, and caught them in a big net. The next thing they knew, the AB-Team (as they were still known) found themselves locked in a cave. All they could find were some Pot Noodles, a tatty porn mag, a humvee and a six pack of Super Tennants. Murdoch quaffed the 6 pack of super-strength lager, was violently sick, then went to sleep in a patch of mushrooms at the back of the cave. Face couldn't handle being alone with the smelly British C-list celebrities, and so scoffed the Pot Noodles raw, was violently sick, grabbed the porn mag, then went to sleep with Murdoch in the mushroom patch.
The B-Team (as it was now known) knew it was all on them to save the world from disaster.
Will Ainsley, Sir Patrick, Richard and Jim escape from the cave and trip over the terrorists?
Find out in the next installment of this exciting adventure.
48 hours later the A-Team were assembled in their HQ, in some random spot of anonymous American scrubland. Hannibal insisted on resuming the role of commander, although he was now stone deaf, incontinent and senile. He still had a cigar in his hand, but it was exactly the same one from 15 years ago which he had forgotten to re-light. BA was in good health, though had continued to grow since his TV appearances in the 80s. He towered at 9'6" and weighed a hefty 67 stone. The Faceman had changed too. In an effort to retain his looks, he had undergone extensive plastic surgery in the early '90s. It didn't really look right, so more 'enhancements' were made. This continued until 1999, when Face's face imploded during a scuba-diving trip and got washed away to sea. He now had no face at all, just 2 eyes, 2 nostrils, 2 ear-holes and a mouth on a big pasty lump. Murdoch was his same old comedy self though, and was thus laughing continously at Face's facelessness, BA's enormity and Hannibal's cigar problem.
When Murdoch had finally managed to stop laughing, he decided to take charge: being the only passable example of a sensible adult. Hannibal continued to bark orders at a lamp in the corner, but everyone ignored him. Clearly, assistance was needed... Murdoch rotored in the lesser known B-Team as back-up. The B-Team were essentially an understudy team of substitute 'soldiers' representing each of the A-Team: Ainsley Harriet (for BA), Sir Patrick Moore (for Hannibal), Richard Mately (for Face) and Jim Davidson (for Murdoch). With the A-Team and B-Team in joined force, surely nothing could stop them.
They arrived near the border of Afghanistan one week later. Unfortunately BA had refused to fly due to his persistent vertigo, but besides, his ridiculous size meant he couldn't be carried by any commercial airline. So he was still making his way through the Pacific on a big jetski. Ainsley thought he'd be able to manage the role though, so all was good.
The AB-Team (as it was now known) made their way through the mountains to begin their mission. They would lay trip-wires all over a road... it would knock-out all the bad-guys, and capsize all the nuclear-warhead carrying trucks. After they had fixed the string to a tree with some sellotape, they went to hide in the bushes to watch the consequences of their handywork. Hannibal tripped over the string and died. It didn't matter though.
As they peeked conspicuously from behind a small shrub, a Taliban soldier crept up behind them, and caught them in a big net. The next thing they knew, the AB-Team (as they were still known) found themselves locked in a cave. All they could find were some Pot Noodles, a tatty porn mag, a humvee and a six pack of Super Tennants. Murdoch quaffed the 6 pack of super-strength lager, was violently sick, then went to sleep in a patch of mushrooms at the back of the cave. Face couldn't handle being alone with the smelly British C-list celebrities, and so scoffed the Pot Noodles raw, was violently sick, grabbed the porn mag, then went to sleep with Murdoch in the mushroom patch.
The B-Team (as it was now known) knew it was all on them to save the world from disaster.
Will Ainsley, Sir Patrick, Richard and Jim escape from the cave and trip over the terrorists?
Find out in the next installment of this exciting adventure.
It had been decades since the A-Team had been called in for action, but recent crises in the Middle East and Kashmir meant someone would have to track them down. They were needed, urgently. Luckily their appearance in a pantomime in Blackpool meant they were quickly located, and although BA played an excellent Widow Twanky, his skills were required elsewhere.
48 hours later the A-Team were assembled in their HQ, in some random spot of anonymous American scrubland. Hannibal insisted on resuming the role of commander, although he was now stone deaf, incontinent and senile. He still had a cigar in his hand, but it was exactly the same one from 15 years ago which he had forgotten to re-light. BA was in good health, though had continued to grow since his TV appearances in the 80s. He towered at 9'6" and weighed a hefty 67 stone. The Faceman had changed too. In an effort to retain his looks, he had undergone extensive plastic surgery in the early '90s. It didn't really look right, so more 'enhancements' were made. This continued until 1999, when Face's face imploded during a scuba-diving trip and got washed away to sea. He now had no face at all, just 2 eyes, 2 nostrils, 2 ear-holes and a mouth on a big pasty lump. Murdoch was his same old comedy self though, and was thus laughing continously at Face's facelessness, BA's enormity and Hannibal's cigar problem.
When Murdoch had finally managed to stop laughing, he decided to take charge: being the only passable example of a sensible adult. Hannibal continued to bark orders at a lamp in the corner, but everyone ignored him. Clearly, assistance was needed... Murdoch rotored in the lesser known B-Team as back-up. The B-Team were essentially an understudy team of substitute 'soldiers' representing each of the A-Team: Ainsley Harriet (for BA), Sir Patrick Moore (for Hannibal), Richard Mately (for Face) and Jim Davidson (for Murdoch). With the A-Team and B-Team in joined force, surely nothing could stop them.
They arrived near the border of Afghanistan one week later. Unfortunately BA had refused to fly due to his persistent vertigo, but besides, his ridiculous size meant he couldn't be carried by any commercial airline. So he was still making his way through the Pacific on a big jetski. Ainsley thought he'd be able to manage the role though, so all was good.
The AB-Team (as it was now known) made their way through the mountains to begin their mission. They would lay trip-wires all over a road... it would knock-out all the bad-guys, and capsize all the nuclear-warhead carrying trucks. After they had fixed the string to a tree with some sellotape, they went to hide in the bushes to watch the consequences of their handywork. Hannibal tripped over the string and died. It didn't matter though.
As they peeked conspicuously from behind a small shrub, a Taliban soldier crept up behind them, and caught them in a big net. The next thing they knew, the AB-Team (as they were still known) found themselves locked in a cave. All they could find were some Pot Noodles, a tatty porn mag, a humvee and a six pack of Super Tennants. Murdoch quaffed the 6 pack of super-strength lager, was violently sick, then went to sleep in a patch of mushrooms at the back of the cave. Face couldn't handle being alone with the smelly British C-list celebrities, and so scoffed the Pot Noodles raw, was violently sick, grabbed the porn mag, then went to sleep with Murdoch in the mushroom patch.
The B-Team (as it was now known) knew it was all on them to save the world from disaster.
Will Ainsley, Sir Patrick, Richard and Jim escape from the cave and trip over the terrorists?
Find out in the next installment of this exciting adventure.
48 hours later the A-Team were assembled in their HQ, in some random spot of anonymous American scrubland. Hannibal insisted on resuming the role of commander, although he was now stone deaf, incontinent and senile. He still had a cigar in his hand, but it was exactly the same one from 15 years ago which he had forgotten to re-light. BA was in good health, though had continued to grow since his TV appearances in the 80s. He towered at 9'6" and weighed a hefty 67 stone. The Faceman had changed too. In an effort to retain his looks, he had undergone extensive plastic surgery in the early '90s. It didn't really look right, so more 'enhancements' were made. This continued until 1999, when Face's face imploded during a scuba-diving trip and got washed away to sea. He now had no face at all, just 2 eyes, 2 nostrils, 2 ear-holes and a mouth on a big pasty lump. Murdoch was his same old comedy self though, and was thus laughing continously at Face's facelessness, BA's enormity and Hannibal's cigar problem.
When Murdoch had finally managed to stop laughing, he decided to take charge: being the only passable example of a sensible adult. Hannibal continued to bark orders at a lamp in the corner, but everyone ignored him. Clearly, assistance was needed... Murdoch rotored in the lesser known B-Team as back-up. The B-Team were essentially an understudy team of substitute 'soldiers' representing each of the A-Team: Ainsley Harriet (for BA), Sir Patrick Moore (for Hannibal), Richard Mately (for Face) and Jim Davidson (for Murdoch). With the A-Team and B-Team in joined force, surely nothing could stop them.
They arrived near the border of Afghanistan one week later. Unfortunately BA had refused to fly due to his persistent vertigo, but besides, his ridiculous size meant he couldn't be carried by any commercial airline. So he was still making his way through the Pacific on a big jetski. Ainsley thought he'd be able to manage the role though, so all was good.
The AB-Team (as it was now known) made their way through the mountains to begin their mission. They would lay trip-wires all over a road... it would knock-out all the bad-guys, and capsize all the nuclear-warhead carrying trucks. After they had fixed the string to a tree with some sellotape, they went to hide in the bushes to watch the consequences of their handywork. Hannibal tripped over the string and died. It didn't matter though.
As they peeked conspicuously from behind a small shrub, a Taliban soldier crept up behind them, and caught them in a big net. The next thing they knew, the AB-Team (as they were still known) found themselves locked in a cave. All they could find were some Pot Noodles, a tatty porn mag, a humvee and a six pack of Super Tennants. Murdoch quaffed the 6 pack of super-strength lager, was violently sick, then went to sleep in a patch of mushrooms at the back of the cave. Face couldn't handle being alone with the smelly British C-list celebrities, and so scoffed the Pot Noodles raw, was violently sick, grabbed the porn mag, then went to sleep with Murdoch in the mushroom patch.
The B-Team (as it was now known) knew it was all on them to save the world from disaster.
Will Ainsley, Sir Patrick, Richard and Jim escape from the cave and trip over the terrorists?
Find out in the next installment of this exciting adventure.
And now for part 2 of this exciting adventure...
Due to the various incompetencies of the original A-Team, the original plan of tripping up the Taliban was abandoned. Sir Patrick Moore lit up a huge cigar and began to scheme. The B-Team had a different set of skills which needed to be accomodated. Ainsley Harriet wasn't strong or good with cars like BA. Richard Mately wasn't cunning or charming like Face. And Jim Davidson wasn't funny or intelligent like Murdoch.
Sir Patrick began his instruction:
'Right, what we have here... you see is... a predicament in which... we must seek to escape from the caaave... we shall do so... by navigating by the stars... and make our escape... do you see?'
Richard Mately replied:
'Er, well no, not really Patrick, Sir Patrick, Mr Moore, what do I call you? Oh never mind, tell me later, oh no, actually tell me now, go on go on... Oh we'll just leave it shall we, yes, no, oh never mind. But er Paddy, why don't you just take the humvee and ram it the hell out of here and we'll go get those Talibandits, y'know, why can't we just do that? And we'll find Ben Larden and say: look here, you can't go around doing that, stop it...'
'What's he like! I dunno, eh! heh heh! C'mon guys, time's runnin out, lets get cooking baby, yeh!' Interjected Ainsley
'No, y'know, I want to know, er, I know, lets get the audience to phone in... ' Richard replied, addressing an imaginary camera '... so if you think we should just ram out of here in the humvee right now, or not, or if you haven't decided, call this number and let us know. Great. That'll be great won't it. Yeah.'
By the time Richard had finished rambling the impertinent little cockney dipstick Jim Davidson. Had broken into the humvee.
'C'mon you lot, lets get our speedy shoes on, we're off' barked Jim. With that the B-Team crashed out through the traffic cones that were blocking the cave's exit, and sped off back into the mountains. After a half hour drive they fortunately stumbled across the enemy's campsite. Pulling up a few yards short, the four heroes crept out of the humvee and hid themselves behind some grass. They could spot Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein and Lynne from Big Brother sat around a campfire cackling in a hideous cacophony of rawkus laughter. What appeared to be marshmallows toasting on their forks over the fire were in fact, under closer inspection, the ears of cute fluffy white bunny rabbits.
If the B-Team could put a stop to this terrible trio, then all the world's problems would be solved. Sir Patrick devised a new plot:
Jim and Ainsley would go to the campsite and create a diversion. This would be achieved by hosting a special mini-game of Big Break. Ainsley's bulging eyeballs were the perfect cueballs, and the 8-balls were in his pants. Jim Davidson's weak one-liners and inappropriate references would temporarily stun and confound the baddies. Richard would then go and sit on all fours behind the bad-guys, one-by-one, as Sir Patrick would push them over his crouching torso as Richard crawled round behind their backs.
They pulled it off without a hitch. Saddam had bruised his knee, Bin had a huge graze on his left forearm, and Lynne had slightly singed her hair in the camp-fire. That would put a stop to them. The triumphant B-team returned home to their respective jobs, and were last seen on a special episode of Blankety-Blank.
'I LOVE it when a plan comes together, eh, eh, I dunno, what am I like'
THE END
Due to the various incompetencies of the original A-Team, the original plan of tripping up the Taliban was abandoned. Sir Patrick Moore lit up a huge cigar and began to scheme. The B-Team had a different set of skills which needed to be accomodated. Ainsley Harriet wasn't strong or good with cars like BA. Richard Mately wasn't cunning or charming like Face. And Jim Davidson wasn't funny or intelligent like Murdoch.
Sir Patrick began his instruction:
'Right, what we have here... you see is... a predicament in which... we must seek to escape from the caaave... we shall do so... by navigating by the stars... and make our escape... do you see?'
Richard Mately replied:
'Er, well no, not really Patrick, Sir Patrick, Mr Moore, what do I call you? Oh never mind, tell me later, oh no, actually tell me now, go on go on... Oh we'll just leave it shall we, yes, no, oh never mind. But er Paddy, why don't you just take the humvee and ram it the hell out of here and we'll go get those Talibandits, y'know, why can't we just do that? And we'll find Ben Larden and say: look here, you can't go around doing that, stop it...'
'What's he like! I dunno, eh! heh heh! C'mon guys, time's runnin out, lets get cooking baby, yeh!' Interjected Ainsley
'No, y'know, I want to know, er, I know, lets get the audience to phone in... ' Richard replied, addressing an imaginary camera '... so if you think we should just ram out of here in the humvee right now, or not, or if you haven't decided, call this number and let us know. Great. That'll be great won't it. Yeah.'
By the time Richard had finished rambling the impertinent little cockney dipstick Jim Davidson. Had broken into the humvee.
'C'mon you lot, lets get our speedy shoes on, we're off' barked Jim. With that the B-Team crashed out through the traffic cones that were blocking the cave's exit, and sped off back into the mountains. After a half hour drive they fortunately stumbled across the enemy's campsite. Pulling up a few yards short, the four heroes crept out of the humvee and hid themselves behind some grass. They could spot Bin Laden, Saddam Hussein and Lynne from Big Brother sat around a campfire cackling in a hideous cacophony of rawkus laughter. What appeared to be marshmallows toasting on their forks over the fire were in fact, under closer inspection, the ears of cute fluffy white bunny rabbits.
If the B-Team could put a stop to this terrible trio, then all the world's problems would be solved. Sir Patrick devised a new plot:
Jim and Ainsley would go to the campsite and create a diversion. This would be achieved by hosting a special mini-game of Big Break. Ainsley's bulging eyeballs were the perfect cueballs, and the 8-balls were in his pants. Jim Davidson's weak one-liners and inappropriate references would temporarily stun and confound the baddies. Richard would then go and sit on all fours behind the bad-guys, one-by-one, as Sir Patrick would push them over his crouching torso as Richard crawled round behind their backs.
They pulled it off without a hitch. Saddam had bruised his knee, Bin had a huge graze on his left forearm, and Lynne had slightly singed her hair in the camp-fire. That would put a stop to them. The triumphant B-team returned home to their respective jobs, and were last seen on a special episode of Blankety-Blank.
'I LOVE it when a plan comes together, eh, eh, I dunno, what am I like'
THE END