BACK ON THE DRUGGS AGANE!

THE SCEANE: Midnite. A cold and unforgiveing wind blo through the craked windoes of the HAPEY PROMISES REHABBILATION RETREATE AND GARDEN CENTRE convenently sittuated nere exit 23 on the m25. It smell of dust beetels chalk physcotherapey large invoices from bupa bleach crafty cigs flip charts and GUILT. Spider webs fluter in the drafty HALLWAYS. In the distance a dog wich belong to Matron HOWL...

The inmates SHUDER in there cots for the DIRECKTOR hav turned the heating off wot do you think this is a HOATEL eh? Many ar gripped by TERIBEL memmories of wot they got up to befor embarking on the path of recovery. Such a one is PEAT DOEHERTY i.e. of babyshables faim who lie tosing sweatily in his slepe.

DOEHERTY: Mumbel mumbel... thats it cate lene in a bit more for the cammera... move to left MIKE JONES OUT OF THE CLASH you are in the way of the kokane.. sunday miror do not want a picture of your baldy nut... mutter mutter... come on cate you nasty old ragg you kno you want me back... urg arg coff spluter ect ect.

Sudenly a BRITE WITE LITE fill the room and doeherty snap awake. In doorway he see a VISION OF FEMALE BEUATY she is whering a wite dresing gown big slipers and carey a bottel of rasberry oasis friuit drink wich strangeley have a straw and a slice of lemon in it. She SWAY slitely, the lite playing gentley on her teribel tatoos and black hair wich resembel chewbacas SCROTUM. It is singeing sensation AMEY WINEHOSE.

DOEHERTY: Coo ur gosh oo (his hand sloly CREPE below the shetes). Speke, spirit, I am bound to hear thee (eng. lit.).

AMEY: Blaaaaake blaaake blaaake (she continu to howl).

DOEHERTY: Alas por ghost! AMEY sudenly realise who is spekeing. There eyes MEET. She SCREME and run out of the room.

AMEY: Blaaake blaaaake blaaake!

DOEHERTY spring from bed he is whering only a tatty old JAM t shirt and no draws it is a site and no mistake. His face is a mask of CONFUTION. DOEHERTY: Can it be i am faling in LUV with AMEY WINEHOSE?

FIND OUT NEXT WEKE.