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Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Monday 15th August Part Two

So, will Carla say yes? Will she? Well, no. No she didn't. In fact, she stormed out. Some women just aren't happy with such a romantic proposal.

After a spot of soaking in Frank's embarrassment, we head over to Roy's where Becky is having a little chat with Chez and Katy. Katy tells Becky that she wishes she was more like her. I take this to mean that she doesn't want her kid and would prefer to buy one off her sister, instead.

Frank goes over to Underworld in an attempt to apologise to Carla. This apology mostly consisted of sentences containing no more than four words at a time. He's efficient, I'll give him that. A slimy, smarmy, shifty rapist but an efficient, slimy, smarmy, shifty rapist. Credit where it's due.

Back their flat, Russ starts an argument with Cheryl about there being too many arguments. He then shouts at her because he doesn't like all the shouting. If Coronation Street was a glutton for irony, it'd eat itself.

Over in the Rovers, Dev gives Frank some friendly (and useless) advice about how to win Carla over. This coming from a man whose relationships are, traditionally, about as stable as a one-legged man, with Parkinson's, during a fairly firm earth tremor.

Dev then mentions to Frank about Peter and Carla's earlier exchange in his shop. Meanwhile, an increasingly befuddled Lloyd comes in to seek refuge from the events consuming his house.

His respite doesn't last long as Cheryl comes in to talk to him about Chris' reservations about staying. Lloyd admits that he doesn't feel comfortable with Chris living there but he also doesn't want to be the man who chucks a guy with a brain tumour out on the streets.

Peter corners Carla in the cafe and says he wants to talk to her about why she turned down Frank's proposal. Carla says she wont talk to him but Peter suggests that she said 'no' because she doesnt want to commit to anyone just in case Peter leaves Leanne. Bloody big head. Carla storms out and tells peter she wants him to stay away.

Carla heads over to the Rovers to try and find Frank. As soon as she sets foot in there, Dev tries to pimp Frank to her. Carla desnt take too kindly to this and any career Dev may have had on Price Drop TV is, surely, down the toilet after that sorry effort of a pitch.

At the prison Fizz talks to Roy and Hayley about how she's being put on the cleaning rota for the mother and baby area. She doesn't really like this, because it reminds her of Hope. Hayley offers to bring Hope in but Fizz declines, however, after a bit of pestering, Hayley convinces her.

It appears that Lloyd has decided that he wants Chris to leave, however, on seeing Chris returning from radiotherapy looking like crap, he caves again and says that he can stay for as long as it takes.

On Roy's return to his cafe, he is immediately confronted by Sylvia, again, about how she thinks he's not running the place properly. She vows to crack down on the large portions and the free drinks that Roy and Hayley dish out and turn the place into a cost-effective business.

Back at Underworld, Frank is trying to clear the air with Carla, yet again. This goes slightly better for him because, eventhough she doesnt want to marry him she still wants to be his business partner and, maybe, still in a relationship. This causes Frank makes sad eyes. Or, at least, he tries to but he doesnt have any so they're more sad dots of black.



Over in the prison, Fizz gets yapping to another mam, in the mother and baby unit. She tells her about her doubts about having Hope in prison with her. The other mam says that it's a good thing that they're there, convincing Fizz that it is the right thing to do. Personally, I'd be grateful. Think of all the nappies she's avoided doing and, at least, she's getting a full night's kip! The ungrateful ginger madame.

We rejoin Frank telling Carla that he knows about her and Peter's argument in the shop, coming up with the same theory that Peter did in the cafe. In a bit to prove him wrong, Carla does a complete U-turn and says she'll marry him.

If smell-o-vision were invented, I'd still be mopping my house down from the vapours of desperation.

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