Worrying news has reached us this afternoon that Italian police have received an anonymous tip indicating that the death of opera-legend Luciano Pavorotti may not have been due to natural causes.
It is believed that the Carabinieri have now received four telephone calls, each one from a different informant. All however, sang their information in similarly irritating opera-lite style in upper-middle class English accents. A bit like Tim Henman apparently. But not actually him. He’s got an alibi apparently. He was otherwise engaged telephonically-speaking, as he was wanking over popular sexline 0891 Jizz In My Face You Tiger.
Our source in the Modena Police Department informed us that in all calls, the same name was revealed as a suspect for the potential murder of Signor Pavarotti. That man was none other than Britain’s Got Talent winner, Paul Potts. The callers are alleging that the Elizabeth Duke operatic-style warbler has become so hungry for success that he would stop at nothing to ensure his recognition as the finest singer in the World. And if that meant undertaking a covert and highly-implausible scheme to murder his hero, then that was the price he was willing to pay.
It is not thought that Paul Potts’ mentor, lego-haired music mogul Simon Cowell, had any knowledge of this plan according to the secret informants. Although they did comment that Cowell was “a flipping rotter for letting that grinning Jewish oaf Steve Brookstein beat them in the final of X-Factor 1” before panicking and slamming the phone down immediately.
We tracked down Paul Potts this afternoon, hiding out in his modest North Wales home. We attempted to ask him if he had any comment to make about these scurrilous allegations but he could only stand on his front step and sing “Donna e mobile” (that’s Paolo Di Canio to you, football fans) to our reporter. But instead of singing the actual words, he belted out “Fuck off you piece of shit, G4 are fucking dead.” Make of that what you will friends.
It is believed that the Carabinieri have now received four telephone calls, each one from a different informant. All however, sang their information in similarly irritating opera-lite style in upper-middle class English accents. A bit like Tim Henman apparently. But not actually him. He’s got an alibi apparently. He was otherwise engaged telephonically-speaking, as he was wanking over popular sexline 0891 Jizz In My Face You Tiger.
Our source in the Modena Police Department informed us that in all calls, the same name was revealed as a suspect for the potential murder of Signor Pavarotti. That man was none other than Britain’s Got Talent winner, Paul Potts. The callers are alleging that the Elizabeth Duke operatic-style warbler has become so hungry for success that he would stop at nothing to ensure his recognition as the finest singer in the World. And if that meant undertaking a covert and highly-implausible scheme to murder his hero, then that was the price he was willing to pay.
It is not thought that Paul Potts’ mentor, lego-haired music mogul Simon Cowell, had any knowledge of this plan according to the secret informants. Although they did comment that Cowell was “a flipping rotter for letting that grinning Jewish oaf Steve Brookstein beat them in the final of X-Factor 1” before panicking and slamming the phone down immediately.
We tracked down Paul Potts this afternoon, hiding out in his modest North Wales home. We attempted to ask him if he had any comment to make about these scurrilous allegations but he could only stand on his front step and sing “Donna e mobile” (that’s Paolo Di Canio to you, football fans) to our reporter. But instead of singing the actual words, he belted out “Fuck off you piece of shit, G4 are fucking dead.” Make of that what you will friends.
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