“2003” saw the Layts and Suths bandwagon grinding to a halt under the combined pressures of fame, fortune, and fat people.
Layts, thanks to his business (and moral) philosophy of ‘Horrific and Needless Exploitation’ (HNE) had overtaken both Bill Gates and Donald Trump in the 2004 Forbes Rich List, and was close to reaching the no.1 spot, a position held since 1984 by Nelson Mandela.
In an attempt to do so, Layts converted his entire dollar stock into Italian Lira, thereby increasing his fortune ten thousand-fold overnight. However, the very next day, the Lira was declared defunct by the premier, Jane Mussolini, “to be replaced by the URO”. His entire fortune wiped out by the actions of a fascist madman, Layts was left destitute save for a ‘goodwill’ payment of £1000 from the Halifax. With this pittance, he opened a restaurant in Knightsbridge, the ‘White Rhino’, which rapidly became a hit with the twats that lived there. Its unique selling point was an a-la-carte menu consisting solely of soup made from the stock of endangered species – Galapagos turtles, Siberian Tigers, Dodos etc; and, in a further appeal to the post-modern nihilistic sensibilities of its dickhead clientele, diners were invited to throw the unused flesh of these dwindling creatures into the Thames, in a light-hearted (and very one-sided) “dance-to-the-death” with Mother Nature known as the Extinctathon.
This picture shows Layts
with some toilet paper on the way into one of the 16
bathrooms on his Manor, meanwhile Suths having spent all
his cash, was allowed to wash Layts’ clothes for a
fee.
Meanwhile Suths, having squandered most of his fortune on
booze, birds and bhhsdgibhiisdkfmn was enduring his seventh
stint in the Priory Rehab Clinic, S. London. Once again
however, the punishing regime of sleeping comfortably,
being pampered, and talking to really nice people who just
wanted to listen didn’t seem to be
helping…when all of a sudden – an EPIPHANY!
Martin realized that to give up the drink and drugs
he’d have to stop drinking and taking them,
and vice versa. To not be fucked was to not get
fucked, and the other way round as well and so on.
However, sobriety was a double-edged sword for Martin, as
these entries from his diaries show:
Saturday 15th
December 2003 9am:
It’s beginning to snow…flakes, silver and dark
are falling obliquely against the
lamplight…it’s probably snowing all over the
island, on the central plain, on the treeless hills,
falling softly on the graveyards, upon the crosses and the
headstones… wistful winter gusts flitting through
the hedges, struggling in vain against the stone walls of
haven cottages…
9pm: Bored shitless.
This snap, taken by a paparazzo, shows Suths being harassed by adoring fans as he leaves the priory for a packet of fruit gums. It is very possibly the only photograph of Suths taken that year.
While the photographer was paid in excess of six figures for the picture, he would later be run over by a tram.
Luckily, Suths was rescued from complete manic apathy by a lifeline from his old friend Layts, who asked him to be his campaign manager for the 2004 General Election. Layts was standing for the Layts party, under the banner “Dulce Et Decorum Est, Pro Layts Moria”. Unfortunately, the key pledges of his manifesto, such as re-instating Apartheid and bringing back the Gay Tax, failed to strike a chord (Bsus4) in the predominantly ethnic and gay constituency of Hadley-Kershaw South. Layts failed to win his deposit back, but was upbeat about his defeat: “democracy’s shit” he later affirmed.
Although his relationship with Katie Woodwoodoak had almost completely faded from his memory, Martin was still plagued by sporadic nightmares involving the infamous ‘Belle of Dresden’. However, even his unconscious could never have anticipated the primeval depths to which his former beau had now sunk. According to the FBI, by May 2003, Katie was the nominal and de facto head of an international network of ‘dames’ known as “the Harem”, whose stated aim was the “destruction of all that is good and beautiful in the world”.
Their first campaign,
complacently referred to by Ms. Woodwoodoak as the
‘Third Battle of the Somme’, involved the
completely unprovoked and unnecessary murder of World War I
veterans, or “Tommies”, as they are fondly
called. The vicious campaign, inaugurated by Ms.
Woodwoodoak on 5th May 1984, has thus far claimed the lives
of 7,023,712 “lovely old men”, killed for the
sole reason of being lovely. The figures speak for
themselves:
Office of National Statistics, ‘Remaining
Tommies’, Vol. VII, pp. 45-76caption
The three remaining “lovely men” are now part
of the Metropolitan Police’s Witness Protection
Scheme, but, in a chilling warning, the Met’s Police
Commisioner Sir Ian Blair recently stated that:
“…nobody can ever be completely safe from this
evil bitch’s murderous claws."
Tommy Docherty – Passchendale Veteran and ‘Lovely Man’
To re-iterate, whilst any trace of bitterness had long since been banished from Suths’ heart, his love life was nonetheless sinking rapidly in the quagmire of delusion and hallucination; unfortunately, Layts was faring little better…
Although he had come to terms with “his” sexuality “in” late July (defo hetero), his love life was still foundering “on” the rocks of sexual ingratitude – he never said thank you…and oftentimes he didn’t even ask if he could…
Things came to a head on late November, when Layts was arrested on suspicion “of” the murder of Gary Pallister, “the” ex-Manchester United centre-back. Layts had been carrying on a clandestine and unilateral relationship with Mrs. Pallister, whom he had met at a conference entitled “The Role Of The D Major Chord Within The Context Of Contemporary Music”, in June 1996.
On the night of 27 August 2004, Mr. Pallister had arrived home early from Wales to find the pair enjoying a post-coital threesome with the wife of ex-Newcastle United defender Gavin Peacock (or “Cocky” to his friends). In the ensuing altercation, so the prosecution claimed, Layts and Mrs Peacock murdered Mr.Pallister, in the billiard room, with the spanner.
However, the judge, Justice Murgatroyd (no relation) threw the case out of court at the preliminary stage, when the defence team’s star witness, Gary Pallister, denied having a billiard room, a spanner, or even being dead.
Gary Pallister, ex-Man Utd centre-back – “not dead”
In a bizarre twist to the case, Layts then confounded his counsel, Murgatroyd QC (no relation), by changing his plea, in spite of Mr. Pallister’s presence, from not guilty to very guilty. The judge was forced, albeit reluctantly, to apply the maximum sentence available, and Layts was thus sentenced to life imprisonment with no chance of parole. However, Layts then decided he couldn’t be bothered to serve out his sentence, saying “I can’t be bothered to serve out my sentence”. He did however agree to the lesser penalty of 56 hours community service, earned for repeatedly and unnecessarily shouting “I plead the fifth!” and “The truth?! You can’t handle the truth!!”, thereby placing him in contempt of court.
Murgatroyd released a solo album, it was shit, no-one bought it and blah blah no-one cares…
After their various personal problems, and the accompanying negative media publicity, it was decided that what the pair needed, in order to resurrect their flagging careers, was a ‘true story’ style documentary, of the kind that had worked wonders for Diana, Princess of Wales, and Michael Jackson, famous children’s entertainer.
Martin Bashir was duly called, and a film crew engaged to follow the duo going about their daily lives over a period of six months.
Unfortunately, ‘truth’ is subjective, rather than ‘Laytsian’, as Layts was to find out to his cost when the show was aired on 27 February 2005. The programme, entitled Laytsandsuths: the Shocking, Disgusting, and Perverse Truth, provoked a storm of protest amongst television viewers, newspapers, and Christians alike. Channel 4 was severely reprimanded by the television watchdog, for showing such
“…gratuitous and morally reprehensible acts of violence, a level of offensive language hitherto thought impossible, and acts of a sexual nature that can only be described as ‘thorough’”.
One notorious scene showed Layts, dressed as a Dominican friar, beating a choirboy about the face with an altar, screaming “God’s Truth!!? You can’t handle God’s Truth!!!”. In response to the widespread criticism of His Life, Layts called a press conference, where he stated:
“Fuck off you fucking veggies…Go shove some soya beans up your…”
Surprisingly, these heart-felt comments did little to allay the concerns of his critics, and the repercussions of the programme echoed long after its initial airing.
This still from the film shows Layts’ sermon minutes before he put on his friar costume. His face shows clearly that he is about to go mental at the choirboy whom he later told police was “doing it wrong”.
Layts was excommunicated, as was Suths (by proxy), even though his appearances in the documentary had been confined to looking coy and giggling like a fucking schoolgirl.
Pope John Paul II, livid after viewing Laytsandsuths: the True Story for the first time
Endorsements were cancelled, Laytsandsuths dolls were withdrawn from the shops, and most worryingly of all, Law 192807, the Prohibition Of Uptalking In Public Places, was rescinded. A period of nationwide anarchy ensued: children started turning Australian; people couldn’t move for questions; the Spar chain stopped selling marrows…
In this difficult period, many of Laytsandsuths’ so-called ‘friends’ forsook the duo, as rats do a sinking ship - then they drowned, like those rats, but Layts and Suths got some new rats who they then killed cos they fucking hate rats and those other rats who were their friends were twatted cos layts and suths couldn’t stand the fuckers and other friends were murdered and new rats were brought in for execution and their friends were forced to watch the hanging on telly while they were strapped in the electric chair and given a twatting of a lifetime electric stylee and so it went on. However, Laytsandsuths soon found that they were eliciting support from a completely unexpected, and unwelcome source.
Layts had sold the “White Rhino” in 2004 to Gary Rhodes, a man, but nevertheless, the clientele he had built up so laboriously over the years had remained loyal to the idiosyncratic restaurant. In the intervening years they had reproduced, as do leeches, and their sons and daughters, upon reaching maturity and finding themselves without materialistic want, began to realize they lacked a truly authentic cultural identity. After briefly toying with the idea of becoming suicide bombers, and realizing that his would involve woe betide! their deaths, they turned to art…
A chance viewing of the Laytsandsuths documentary was to have a profound influence upon this select group of wankers. All of a sudden, Emin, Hirst and TWAT no longer articulated their pain – Laytsandsuths was undoubtedly the way forward.
“Ohmygod they’re just so subversive, they just hit people for no reason to see their reaction, they’re just so out there but not quite cos there’s a bit on the inside …”
Completely against their will, Laytsandsuths were-short listed for the Turner Prize 2005, before they’d even made anything to nominate. However, in his capacity as a ‘Genius of the Modern Age’ (discuss), Layts was able, with only two days notice, to produce a work of Turner-quality to present to the judges.
I Piss In Your Face is celebrated as the forerunner of the contemporary style known as ‘Emission Art’. A literal, pragmatic and aquatic representation of its title, this installation was to fundamentally alter the art landscape of the Noughties. As the chief judge, Murgatroyd (no relation) iterated:
“A provocative, transgressional and wet piece that illuminates the human condition in all its forms, especially with regard to liquidinal defecation.”
Layts and Suths, now doyens of the contemporary art world, found themselves in the company of complete fucking wankers who didn’t know their existential arse from their surrealist piano.
Meanwhile, Layts had been hard at work on an upcoming production of the Wizard of Oz, which was to star ex-James Bond and self-professed ‘Layts and Suths’ fanatic Roger Moore and the current UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan, who described the musical as “something I’ve always wanted to do.” The project was part of the Old Vic’s Shakespeare season, and all proceeds were to go towards building the Suths wing of St. Murgatroyd’s (no relation) children’s hospital in Croydon. Layts, as director and costume designer, encouraged the parents of London to “trust” him and bring their kids along, as the adapted script was specifically “aimed” at the little bastards.
On the night of the premiere it soon became clear that Layts’ assurance, if not quite true, was nevertheless a lie. The Guardian’s theatre critic, Murgashit (relashun) condemned the gratuitous nudity and sexual content as “not fit to be seen, even by whores, let alone little kiddies”, although one member of the audience, Suths described the performance as “exactly what I had expected”.
Although the police attempted to shut down the performance on the grounds of “horrid”, Layts told them to piss off and over the next seven weeks, the play earned over $7 billion for St. Murgatroyd’s.
Above is a poster advertising the play, familiar to many, this propaganda was irreversibly tattooed on fifteen thousand British tourists the week before the plays release.
The duo responded in the only way they knew how: they holed themselves up in the Co-op Studios (where the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Nirvana, Radiohead, and Elvis had never recorded) and came up with a double A-side that would define their ‘third period’: Pokerface/Gauntlet.
The former, a simple, off-the-cuff ditty about poker to some, is in fact a complete A-Z, 1-9 study of the human condition, in which conjured emotions alternate between despair and poker. Poker wins out of course, but the overriding impression is one of “god, what’s the next chord?”
The latter, a simple, off-the-cuff ditty about gauntlets to some, is in fact a complete λ - μ, ش - خ study of the human condition, in which conjured emotions alternate between despair and gauntlet. Gauntlet wins out of course, but the overriding impression is one of “god, what’s poker?”
The release of Pokerface/Gauntlet brought Laytsandsuths back to the top of the charts, which, in the words of Layts “is where they (we) belong”, and cemented their reputation as the best people ever: “yes, better than Allah!” as the popular refrain goes.
It is at this peak where we now find the duo, dancing in the snow, singing in the slush, skidding in the car – fucking loving it. In the words of Suths (based on a previous Laytsism) “Laytsandsuths? You can’t handle Laytsandsuths!”
You can’t can you, you fucking bitch Katie.
Pictured
below: Murgatroyd (no relation)