Dear Dreary.
I hope this message in a bottle thing works.
I'm stranded on a desert island. Alone? Sadly not.
There's another bloke called Robinson and he's really getting on my tits!
The film crew have been here again for the past four weeks filming for the latest series. I did suggest on several occasions that we might just leave with them and be home in time for Z cars, but he just won't listen.
'we're stranded' he says, 'we'll never see civilization again ' he says. 'Doomed!' to die on this cursed isle!
He's got his own trailer you know. With it's own trouser press and teasmaid. Yet he still insists in living under banana leaves and eating crabs. There's a staff canteen up the beach called Crusoes!
What really gets me is he insists on bumming me in the blue lagoon every f in night! I wouldn't mind but his wife keeps shouting at him to come back to the marital tent and sort his pole out.
Please send a submarine.
Yours desperately,
Man Friday.

Dear Friday.
The Time Team budget must have gone through the roof!
Tiny Tony Robinson and his collection of scruffy oddballs are taking the piss here surely? And how come his missus has pitched up there? They'd pull any sort of stunt for a free jolly and a chance to rummage in a hole for a few days.
Where do they disappear to every night? They must get very hot in their wax jackets, multi-coloured hand-knitted tanktops, and turned-down wellies, and it cannot be easy digging a sandy hole with a trowel (reminds me of a spanish holiday with my fiancee. Sand got everywere, even chaffed his helmet).
The fools must be under the impression that there's treasure buried somewhere. Little do they know that the Grand Designs team beat them to it when they built Stuart Hall's holiday retreat. Apparently he required somewhere secluded with no windows. Anyway, they disappeared sharpish with a large chest and Stuart's collection of holiday reading, "Famous Five", "Bunty", that sort of thing.
I believe Mr. Hall will shortly be moving into a different type of holiday accommodation.
I would advise you to man-up Friday.
Next time they pack up their shovels for the day, pluck up the courage and ask for a lift.
Dreary.x