KATIE'S SOAPBOX

Terrible Terry Duckworth is back on the cobbles!  And you know he is serious because he is wearing a big black overcoat – garment of choice for all the best soap villains (Hillman’s was spotless businessman chic whilst ‘Enders Derek rocks it with a classic Baker Boy cap). Underneath this is the most overinflated gorilla-like chest known to soap since Bette Gilroy. Said chest was puffed up to the max tonight when he managed to stop a punch-up between grease monkeys Tyrone and Tommy which in fact has been masterminded by the dastardly dad. One sniff of Tommy –the-Frown’s inheritance money and he has hatched a cunning plan to get his greedy hands on his long-lost son’s inheritance and Jack and Vera’s homestead by turning the friends against each other. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take much to reel the hapless mechanic in and one cup of tea and a pep talk later, Tommy-the-Frown is handing in his notice at the garage and Terry King Kong Duckworth is uttering those fateful words, “You and me - we’ll take over the world”. Cue dread music. 

Astute businessman (apparently) and all-round dodgy dealer Terry, after much deliberation and market research, is determined to open a  ‘gentleman’s club’ on Coronation Street. Obviously, he has never stepped foot in Nick’s ‘upmarket’ bistro whose main clientele compose of his grandma, avid compers Mary and Norris and local alcoholic homewrecker Carla who can’t get served in the Rovers after bedding the landlady’s daughter. Undeterred, the building work is well underway, and with Jason hammering away under the watchful eye of floor sweeper, island hopper Tommy what could go wrong? Cowboy builders  and lack of customers aside, the street is host to an abundance of possible staff. Lazy Tracey showed considerable lapdancing skills in her black widow murdereress dance for Charlie (god rest his soul) and who could forget pissed-up Rita’s clubnights from the good old days?! Unfortuantely, Rosie has gone ‘darn sarf’ but fast taking her place as femme fatale of the street is bored housewife Sunita who tonight, in a skintight red minidress, wiggled her booty in the face of gamblers-anonymous-dropout Carl whilst putting out the buffet for Bette’s funeral. Flirtily slagging off her cheesy hubbie Dev, Sunita leapt to his defence stating ‘There are worse blokes’. Too right love and you’re groping one of them over the sausage rolls.