Five Things We Learned In Corrie This Week

The curse of number six strikes again.  For some reason, the middle house on the posh side just attracts death.  It started with Des Barnes being plunged into a coma from bopping his head slightly on the corner of an MFI end table, continued through Tommy Harris getting bludgeoned by his daughter Katie - who then committed suicide in the front room with a bag of Silver Spoon, still one of Corrie's funniest ever deaths - and climaxed with Tracy Barlow's sexy dance finishing with a swift clonk to Charlie Stubbs with a tacky statue.  You don't get that on Strictly, at least not now Anton's on the judging panel.  Last year we got Geoff plunging to his death from the roof and this week, exactly one year later, we got Hashim keeling over on the carpet.

The fact that this happened on the anniversary of Geoff's splattering suggests that number 6 is ramping up its efforts to cull its residents, and that it's not only gained spooky sentience but also a dark sense of humour.  It's turning into the house from Poltergeist, and this time next year a tree will be smashing its way in to kidnap Alya and Yasmeen will have coffins popping out of the floor of the orangery.

Let's count our blessings while we can.  Hashim's death means he'll no longer be skulking in the Alleyway of Doom, somehow managing to intimidate a man thirty years younger than him and at least a foot taller.  Sadly I very much doubt it means the end of this interminable storyline - gangsters don't tend to work like the Student Loans Company, wiping out the debt in the event of death - but surely they're running out of weird twists for it?  I mean this week we were asked to believe that Debbie Webster would nick a food truck, and I am 100% positive Debbie Webster would refuse to even be seen in a vehicle like that.

On the plus side it did mean we got to see her in this hat so it wasn't all bad.

Time mellows us all.  Watching Classic Corrie on ITV3, it's shocking to see what a scumbag Steve McDonald used to be.  We've already progressed through him marrying Vicky for her inheritance, getting put in prison for dodgy dealings, cheating on Fiona with her best friend, and we're currently at the stage where he's running an illegal fag smuggling operation.  In 2021, however, he's basically a marshmallow with arms, wandering around the Street being adorably clueless.  Meanwhile Tracy Barlow has, over her 44 years of existence, gone from ineffectual fish finger recipient, to stroppy teen, to a literal hellbeast, and has now - well, maybe she's not exactly mellowed, but she's not trying to set people on fire any more.

There is, in short, something delightful about the way Steve and Tracy are constantly tearing at one another, banging spikes into their partner and undermining every sentence.  Amy's great predicted grades prompted a lovely chat where they both tried to claim spurious genetic claims to genius (and incidentally, well done Amy, crack on and get those exams because it'd be nice for at least one person on the Street to not waste their education).  They sort of love one another, but at the same time, find the other infuriating; but if anyone crosses their family unit, God help them.  Tracy's bluntness is joyous - suggesting a big wedding for Emma is a waste of money "because Curtis could be dead in a year" - and the way she unashamedly took Daniel's side was very sweet.  Even Ken had his doubts about Max's accusations, but Tracy believed him completely, and took the opportunity to tell Billy and Summer to sling their hook out of her flat.  Cross one Barlow, you cross them all.

Be the master of your own domain.  Is Michael the dumbest character on the Street, or is it just that everyone treats him that way?  Because the Baileys and Grace quietly carved up his life for him and at no point did they ever think to say "hey Mikey, what do you think about all this?"  By the time they informed him that he was now a full time dad Grace was practically on the tram.  I'm finding this baby buying storyline quite tiresome, not just because we've seen it before, but also because Grace is clearly going to come back at some point to cause havoc.  We're marking time until she returns, probably in the Spring, leading to yet another court case.  They've built the set now.

Shout out to Adam Barlow, who had two people come into his office and ask "quick question, is it ok if we buy a baby?" and didn't respond with a call to the police or at the very least a lengthy rant about human trafficking.  He also failed to suggest, oh I don't know, going through the correct legal channels so that Michael could legitimately take custody of his daughter.  I like Adam a lot more since he got married, but there's still a shyster streak running through him, and no amount of adorable ovulation chat with Sarah-Lou can cover it up.  Still, Aggie and Ed got their granddaughter, handing over £20,000 in used twenties.  Remember when they were really broke because Ed had gambled away all their money so they had to downgrade to a terraced house and struggle?  Yeah, apparently we're the only ones.

Pick your battles.  This week Max punched a teacher, drowned his sorrows with vodka, instigated a police investigation and got expelled from school.  All because he nurtures a secret crush on... Summer?  I mean, if you're going to throw it all away Max, do it for one of the interesting girls, not the boring academic one in dungarees.  I could understand him chucking his life in the toilet if he thought he might get a hands down the pants situation out of it - Max is fifteen, after all - but Summer is so prissy and responsible she wouldn't dream of doing that kind of thing.  Even if Daniel had presented himself to her, naked and tumescent, she'd have simply blushed and asked if they could perhaps hold hands on the sofa while looking in opposite directions then rushed home to write Mrs Daniel Osbourne in her journal.  You should've sacrificed your entire future for a crush on Kelly, Max; she has a bad girl coolness and would've probably let you see her bra if you gave her a mouthful of that vodka.

Max was singularly dreadful at apologising so comedy icon Carla Mendonça had no option but to expel him.  (She was the woman Eddie hit on in the first episode of Bottom!  She was the woman Harry Enfield said should know her limits!  She was in My Parents Are Aliens, which was after my time, but I believe was very popular with the young people!).  This now leaves David with a narky teenager with major behavioural problems skulking round the house, an outcome I believe is commonly called "poetic justice".  Seriously, where are the scenes of Gail cackling into a vodka and tonic and telling David he brought it on himself?

The options for Max's future education are limited.  There's Oakhill, I suppose; you could argue they have a high standard for admittance, but Rosie Webster is an alumnus so it can't be that difficult to get into.  He could go to that boarding school Adam Barlow went to and come back after a few years without so much as a trace of a Scottish accent.  Or maybe he could be home schooled.  Don't get Shona to do it - with her wacky brain she could be teaching him all sorts.  No, get Sam in; the opportunity to lecture somebody else endlessly will be reason enough to get him talking again.  Ok, he might not be as good at teaching, say, geography as he is at the sciences, but let's be honest, Max is no genius, so it's not like he's going to amount to much anyway.  Get Sam to teach him the planets then he can settle into cutting hair or sewing knickers or whatever other menial job the Street has planned for him.

She's Beryl the Peril.  Alright, I've held off long enough.  Last week's Five Things opened with a love letter to Mimi, and I try not to repeat myself too much (no, really - I consider the endless insults towards Sean and Maria to be "thematic motifs" rather than "tired gags being scraped from the bottom of the barrel").  But do you seriously expect me to ignore Phill's truly incandescent birthday?  I'm only human.  Really, this could just be a series of screenshots of Mimi being amazing, starting with the fact that her party dress has a cape and moving on to her various social faux pas and bitchy remarks.  The fact that she called the party cake an "objet dart" was enough to have me grinning for thirty six hours.

How can you possibly dislike a woman who makes this God-tier level breakfast?  I felt my arteries hardening just looking at it but it would be worth the bypass.  Of course, Tyrone had to ruin things, as he so often does, interrupting the party so he could bellow at Mimi-slash-Beryl in the suspiciously empty kitchen (has Debbie not got round to replacing that boy who only left a couple of weeks ago but whose name I've already forgotten?).  This naturally inflamed Fiz's loins because she doesn't know a good thing when she's got it.  Phill is a lovely person and as far as I'm aware has never knocked up a Romanian popsy.  I mean look at this baby photo:

ADORABLE.  (And that is quite clearly actor Jamie Kenna - he looks exactly the same!).  Mimi went off in floods of tears, which raises the terrifying idea that she may never return to the Street.  This must not be allowed to happen.  Look at Sally's delighted face when Mimi turned up at the factory being incredibly middle class:

Tell me you wouldn't want to see those two passing delightful judgement on the Street's residents, at length, possibly at the expense of all other plotlines and characters.  In fact, stuff it; let's recast the Changing Rooms remake with Sally and Mimi as the experts.  They don't actually do any decorating, they just criticise the existing decor then the second half of the show is them enjoying an afternoon tea with champagne.  That could be the show that makes me finally subscribe to BritBox, ITV.

Once again I have completely failed to discuss Curtis and Emma and I will continue to fail to discuss Curtis and Emma until it is all over with and she is no longer being mucked about by yet another bloke.  Complaints to @merseytart on Twitter where you will be soft blocked.

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