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Saturday 9 June 2012

Coronation Street Weekly Update - July 23 2007

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There’s underhand dealings at Underworld when sacked knicker-stitcher Joanne is paid off with a cheque for five grand. That’s after she threatens to sue Carla for unfair dismissal and Liam for sexual harassment, but Carla knows how Joanne’s mind works, offers her the cheque and sits back in her office chair to lick thorns and trim the heads of her roses. I bet she’s even got a screensaver on her PC that shows little kittens being drowned. Has Corrie ever had such a witch? (watchable though she is). Anyway, it was clear that Carla was going to win this fight, she was wearing bigger hoopy ear-rings than Joanne, it’s always a sign of a clear winner in a cat-fight on Corrie. The bigger the hoopy ear-rings, the better the bitch.

Claire’s packed and left Ashley to his own devices when she moves in with her mum. She’s too scared to stay in the house for fear of someone burning her alive in her bed. But Ashley’s hoping for a bit of fire in the bedroom and starts cosying up to Casey, Claire’s nemesis. No one yet knows that Casey’s the fire-starter, twisted fire-starter. She wheedles her way in with Claire at her mum’s house and later with Ashley who’s home alone where there’s a gentle stroke of his hand across her baps. She made him some lunch, dear, do keep up. And before you know it, Ashley’s kissed Casey on the welcome mat after she spends the day looking after little Josh for him.

Leanne’s staff walked out of the restaurant this week, her chef and waiter have gone, leaving her in no doubt that they think her talents in the catering business are equal to those she had on the game. Leanne lies back and thinks of pizza margherita and how to repay Roger’s loan when Janice tells Leanne that Roger’s skint and needs his money back, oh dear. Best line of the week was Doreen and Rita in the restaurant having lunch. Leanne: “Would you like a drink, ladies?”, Doreen: “Yes please, I hate to eat on an empty stomach”. Leanne’s so desperate for cash that she even asks Carla Connor to come into business with her. It was just like Dragon’s Den. Carla offered twenty thousand pounds for sixty per cent of the business but Leanne walked out in a huff. Paul takes Molly and Tyrone to the pizza place for lunch and is disgusted by the state of the food, and who can blame him? It’s all ready meals brought in from Freshco by Janice when Leanne finds out there’s no food in the fridge for the agency chef to cook up. Hang on, but isn’t Paul a chef? And doesn’t Leanne need, let’s see, what was it again? A chef?  I see a plot forming, it’s a shame that Leanne and Paul haven’t yet.

Tyrone continues to feel pushed out at the Duckies when golden-balls Paul, son of Terry (he who cannot be rubbished in the eyes of our Vera) starts wheedling his way in to Jack and Vera’s lives.

Meanwhile at the butchers, Kirk is over the moon cutting and slicing and naming all 14 cuts of a cow: “I love being a butcher, me”.

Sally feeds her desire to learn something new and while Janice rubbishes her idea, Vicky supports her co-stitcher. Well, Vicky’s got a degree you know. Sally aims to start an English course and Kev’s as supportive as he knows how to be, although clearly disappointed his missus isn’t going to study advanced toasting and postgraduate knowledge of beans.

Vernon heads off to Spain away from Weatherfield and Liz. Lloyd tells him he’ll have a bevy of bikini clad beauties wanting to bang his bongos, but Vernon only wants Liz yet feels he can’t live with her. Ah, but it also turns out he can’t live without her either. Liz sneakily gives Lloyd a tape cassette made up of her and Vernon’s special songs which she asks Lloyd to play in his cab when he drives Vern to the airport. As the cab drives Vernon away from the Street, the songs stir something in Vernon’s heart. He gets Lloyd to turn the cab around, and Lloyd drives Vernon back to the Street and into Liz’s waiting arms. Ah, bless. I do hope these two get wed, it’ll be camp central on national camp day.

And that’s just about that for this week.

Glenda

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