In honour of lame advertising personalities

There aren't enough lame tv advertising personalities nowadays. I remember the good old days, when all I had to do would be to turn on the TV and the AOL bitch or Ronald Mcdonald would pop out and tell me to eat hamburgers or use aol, or do both at the same time (which, if you're dull enough to be reading this, you might be doing, you fat computer-nerd cunts). But for a while it seemed that only Harold from the Natwest adverts was keeping the piss poor advertising personalities in business.

It was a dark time. It was a time of death. Of destruction, of despair. The world cried out for a hero... and Barry Scott came. He arrived, and he sorted that shit out with one squirt of his Cillit Bang.
BANG! And the dirt is gone.

Barry is a manly man. Actually, scratch that. Barry is a Manly Man. With capital fuckin' ms. He strides into the advert with a cheeky grin. "Hi, I'm Barry Scott!" he cries exuberantly, as though we would have actually heard of him. Who is Barry Scott? Nobody knows. He doesn't care. He's Barry Scott. The Manly Man of Mystery.

As soon as Barry Bursts into the scene with his Cillit Bang, we notice one thing: His sleeves are rolled up. This is a man who likes to get the fucking job done, we tell ourselves. His hairy, Manly arms are probably covered with Manly Muscles and tatoos of naked women and wisecracking leprechauns, and a deep tan from the three months he spent:
a: Fishing in the middle of the Mediterranean I KNOW I CAN'T SPELL IT
b: Cutting down trees in Canada
c: Building a boxing stadium in Italy, then competing every night, winning, then going straight back to work without even a wink of sleep. He is that Manly.

And boy, is Barry (see, even his name has a sort of manly appeal, the way you SPIT it out of your mouth like a bullet just caught between your teeth, or a piece of ear you've just bitten off Lennox Lewis's FACE) good at his job. The way he just BUSTS through that dirt... or calcium... or GROUND IN DIRT!!!!! ... with the minimum of ease. And his knowledge of science.

"Limescale is just calcium... that's ground on."

No truer words were ever said. Now if that isn't the best damn scientific explanation I've ever heard, you can slap my belly and call me a Welshman.
NB: I am not Welsh.
But with a scientific knowledge like that, Barry has to be AT THE LEAST, a scientist of some sort. I can imagine him now, solving world hunger in a laboratory he made himself with his own two hands out of wood he cut down himself using an axe made out of metal he mined all by himself, then building a wardrobe from scratch JUST COS HE FELT LIKE IT, then playing a fifteen hour long air guitar solo with his band, "Barry and the Manliest Men in Memphis". The title isn't ironic, by the way. It's an honest desciption given to them by the Government, who decided that too much manliness in one band wihtout a proper warning is just DANGEROUS, and anyway, everyone knows that Memphis is where the Manliest Men around (Oli Gill, That guy from the Monkees with the hat, Ash from Evil Dead, Jean Reno, Gary Oldman, Captain Scarlet etc) converge for the average manly men competition, in which they practise bench pressing cows and compare pecs, before arm wrestling for FIFTEEN SOLID HOURS while smoking HUGE cigars, making love to many beautiful women and giving themselves tatoos saying things like "Manly", and "Jesus was here but its too damn Manly for his pussy self," using only rusty pen-knives and the ink from endangered squid, which they have to go down and find themselves WITHOUT air tanks (oxygen is for pussies), beat the living shit out of, then steal the ink of, all the while being attacked by venemous sea snakes, monsters of the deep and Luc Besson, begging Reno to come back for one more fling; having given themselves the tatoo, they then have to bake it into their skin by ironing their own arms using... an IRON... but as they are so damn manly, they don't touch domestic implements, but instead tell their beautiful girlfriends to do it for them.

Barry Scott is THAT manly, and god bless him too.

Wew.

Cilit Bang: BANG! and the zombies are gone.