Greetings and welcome, come in, sit down, put your feet up, put the kettle on, get the biscuits out and let’s crack on with another cobble load of gossip. And without any further ado, here we go with this week’s Coronation Street update. To find out more about the Cor onation Street Weekly Update s and why they’ve been written for th’internet since 1995 at http://www.corrieweeklyupdates.btinternet.co.uk/
If you’d like the Corrie weekly update in three words, here they are: flash, crash, smash.
If you’d like the Corrie weekly update in three words, here they are: flash, crash, smash.
And for those who want more words, read on, buckle up, hold on tight, it’s going to be a bumpy ride of an update. Yes, this was the week when a gas explosion ripped through Nick’s new bar The Joinery as Peter Barlow’s stag do was going full-tilt. The explosion knocked the tram lines out of kilter up on the viaduct and as bad luck would have it, a Manchester tram came speeding along and ended up flinging its first carriage off the viaduct and smashing right into Dev’s shop. In there were Molly and baby Jack with Sunita in the back room.
Across the street, the explosion knocked Rita to the floor in the Kabin, she’s showered with chocolates as she’s thrown to the ground. Your heart, like mine at this point, might have been going like the clappers but slowed down a bit when Rita, bless her, looked like she might be ok. She is! She’s moving! Rita’s getting up! And then, oh then, the second carriage of the tram came crashing through the Kabin and poor Rita and her bon-bons are squashed flat, surrounded by chocolate stars, in one of the most distressing, but oddly camp, scenes that Corrie’s ever had.
Across the street, the explosion knocked Rita to the floor in the Kabin, she’s showered with chocolates as she’s thrown to the ground. Your heart, like mine at this point, might have been going like the clappers but slowed down a bit when Rita, bless her, looked like she might be ok. She is! She’s moving! Rita’s getting up! And then, oh then, the second carriage of the tram came crashing through the Kabin and poor Rita and her bon-bons are squashed flat, surrounded by chocolate stars, in one of the most distressing, but oddly camp, scenes that Corrie’s ever had.
So, who lives? Who’s dead? We’ll find out this week. But one person I’d bet money on not to be reading the Christmas Radio Times this year is Charlotte and that’s because John Stape smashed her head in with a hammer. She’s stalking John, tells him she loves him and in a mad moment John lets her into the house when Fiz is at Leanne’s hen party in the Rovers. Charlotte – and by the way folks, never trust a woman who travels with her own mistletoe - has got John by the tinsel balls as she manipulates him and blackmails him. And as bad luck would have it, for Charlotte at least, there’s a handy hammer which John picks up in his anger and bashes Charlotte’s head in. Gory? Oh yes, but in that split second, where you’re thinking “Ooh, that’s a bit nasty” the force of the hammer blow knocks Fiz’s Christmas wreath off the Stape front door. So you go from hammer horror to Corrie comedy in one easy step.
However, John’s now got blood on his hands, the carpet, the hallway. He’s tempted to call the cops and dials a 9 then another 9 on his phone but before he presses that final 9 the explosion outside stops him dead. But not as dead as Charlotte. Terrifed, John glances out of the door to see what the noise is, but he doesn’t see shock and awe, he sees an opportunity to bury Charlotte’s body in the carnage on the cobbles.
So anyway, back to Molly and the baby in the corner shop. What’s she doing there, I hear you cry. Yes, you. Well, let me tell you. Yes, you. She was trying to leave Tyrone, having told him that little Jack wasn’t his. It was heartbreaking stuff, but I want Molly gone. The MolVin storyline never worked for me and I couldn’t give a stuff about Molly anymore. If she dies in the corner shop by the marrowfat peas it’ll be a fitting end. Wham, bam, thank you tram. Tyrone of course, is heartbroken, in bits, in tears, and seeks solace with Sally who gives him a hug. Kevin grunts and groans. He’s never been the same since he shaved his moustache off and I swear he’s been sniffing the WD40.
So anyway, back to Molly and the baby in the corner shop. What’s she doing there, I hear you cry. Yes, you. Well, let me tell you. Yes, you. She was trying to leave Tyrone, having told him that little Jack wasn’t his. It was heartbreaking stuff, but I want Molly gone. The MolVin storyline never worked for me and I couldn’t give a stuff about Molly anymore. If she dies in the corner shop by the marrowfat peas it’ll be a fitting end. Wham, bam, thank you tram. Tyrone of course, is heartbroken, in bits, in tears, and seeks solace with Sally who gives him a hug. Kevin grunts and groans. He’s never been the same since he shaved his moustache off and I swear he’s been sniffing the WD40.
As for Peter and Leanne, well it’s anyone’s guess if they’ll get wed next weekend. This week Ken caught Leanne and Nick at it, you know, it, in the back room of the Joinery where they were hoping to do a little joining-up work of their own. Ken calls Leanne to his headmaster’s office, giving Leanne 500 lines: “I must not be a strumpet” and marks her card. Mind you, it’s not the first time Ken’s caught Leanne and Nick at it, you know, it. Didn’t he fall through the ceiling onto their bed once, many years ago? Anyway, so that storyline was about Nick and Peter fighting over a blonde woman in a pub.
And over at the Rovers, we’ve got Owen and Jim fighting over a blonde woman in a pub. Jim tells Steve that he reckons Owen’s behind him being beaten up and battered and bruised. Lloyd warns Steve not to read too much into Jim’s words and to get more proof of what really happened but we all find out when we spy Owen paying Chris the builder in cold, hard cash, for lining up his mates to duff Jim up.
And finally this week, Tina gets a new job as a barmaid at the Rovers. She’s not been there five minutes and she’s already angling her body sideways to the camera, pushing out her cleavage and calling punters ‘chuck’. Give her five minutes more and she’ll be in tears in the back room, with Betty giving her advice on fellas over a fresh pot of tea and a custard cream.
This week’s writers were Mark Wadlow, John Kerr, Simon Crowther, Peter Whalley and Joe Turner.
Glenda Young
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Blogging away merrily at http://flamingnora.blogspot.com
The Rita double whammy was so good that I almost think it might be a good enough final exit for her. I still hope she survives though.
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