Weary of wacky Weatherfield?

Is it true? Is it a rumour? Who knows but this blogger visibly wilted at the thought of yet another demented winter storyline descending on Weatherfield. Credibility is now at creaking point at the prospect of one more chunk of the cobbles being blown to kingdom come.

Think about it. You go to work in the factory. It burns down, explodes, acts as a graveyard. To get over the shock you pop next door for a bag of sweets. This is also fraught with danger as a tram, a mountain of rubble and Rita's bonbons crush the life out of you. In desperation you crawl to the corner shop - but no! A mad woman has run amok with the gas supply. The ensuing explosion is joined by yet more rubble, the front end of a tram and if that wasn't enough, some nicotine-stained trollop is robbing the safe as you lay breathing your last.

Finally you escape and crawl your way down to the Rovers Return - but watch out! A lorry load of wood is crashing through the window just as a huge explosion blows the glass out and some clapped out tart in a blonde wig is screaming into an echo machine at the top of the stairs.

Still to come: there's trouble at the medical centre as Doctor Carter slips in a pool of his own grease and accidentally pushes Deirdre through a plate glass window into the path of an unexpected Sherman tank making its way down Rosamund Street.

At the salon, suspect wiring causes an electrical malfunction and Emily is permed to death under the hood dryer. Plus there's disaster at Streetcars as Steve mistakes the pedal for the brake and hurtles through the cab office, only coming to a halt when the car crashes into Eileen's irony.

Please lovely folk of Corrie - can we get through the winter months without plague, pestilence and preferably Dev? Just give us Karen McDonald dressed as Santa singing "Rocking around the Christmas Tree" whilst battering Tracy to death with her sling backs. Please?

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