It’s raining. The boys are sitting at the editing desk. It has been several days since they’ve spoken. The pitter-patter of the rain outside and the ticking of Nan’s clock are the only sounds I can hear. It pains me to say it but things have taken a dark turn at Third Leg Studios. The boys have received some flattering comments recently and their egos have inflated to such a degree that each member now refuses to waste his words on the others.
Tel has his feet up on the table and is drinking from one of Nan’s fine bone china mugs. He knows he’s not allowed to use the fine bone china. He’s been told many times. But he doesn’t care. He stinks of arrogance. Joel winces every time the fine bone china is placed precariously on the edge of the table. Tel knows he’s annoyed. He likes that he’s annoyed. It gives him a kick.
The clock ticks interminably. Whelan can’t take it any more. He gets up and moves aggressively towards the clock on the wall. The boys know what he’s about to do. They don’t agree with it, they hate him, but they can’t help but admire his decisiveness. I’ve been with the boys long enough to predict the outcome of this situation. Usually I gaze on impassively; my job is to observe, not to intervene, but I can’t help myself. I blurt out, “That’s Nan’s clock. For Christ’s sake, have some respect!”
Silence. Whelan takes the clock off the wall and breaks it over his knee. The ticking stops. Whelan sits back down and they continue to edit their latest video. Joel is sad to see more of his Nan’s possessions reduced to rubble but deep down he understands that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. The world is a dark, painful, humourless place and if it wasn’t for the incessant work of the boys at Third Leg Studios it would be a world entirely devoid of laughter. The boys carry this heavy burden with willing shoulders and each understands that sacrifices must be made.
Even Nan understands. The expression on her face as she sweeps up the shards of her shattered clock isn’t one of anger or even annoyance. It is one of pride. Looking at her now I can safely say that she wouldn’t have things any other way.
I regret my outburst. I can’t for one second imagine the creative pressure the boys are under and every day I spend with them fills me with just that little bit more awe. They are brave, they are beautiful, they are all that is right with the world.
We are but dust and sand blowing in the winds of eternity. It has been over a year since my last report on Third Leg Studios and my, how things have changed. In that time, the three boys from North London have soared through the highest peaks of excellence. Peaking for so long that they have actually forgotten how to trough. And throughout it all the public have been crying out for news, screaming at the top of their lungs, “What is going on over there? What the hell is going on?! We, the people, have a right to know god damn it!”
As the only journalist privileged enough to access Third Leg, the backlash that I, personally, have received has been overwhelming. When I’m not receiving death threats, I’m being hounded by people who demand to know why I’ve abandoned the boys during the most exciting period of their history. The truth may shock you.
I haven’t, in fact, gone anywhere. I’ve been here the whole time, watching the progress of Third Leg Studios in awe. Unable to report on what I was witnessing simply because I’ve been too stunned to move. Transfixed by admiration. Incapacitated by reverence. Paralysed with respect. Even now I struggle to write as I watch them. They truly are marvellous.
If only you could see what I’m seeing. Tel is stroking his blossoming beard proudly, such an impressive array of facial hairs, it is like Spring upon his face. Whelan is sitting, relaxed, calm, confident in his new outfit; a red and black chequered shirt, black jeans and brown boots. An outfit so strong he refuses to change. Such commitment to consistency, an almost incomprehensible lack of variance. He has other clothes, I have personally seen them yet he refuses to wear them. So sure, so confident is he in his current combination. People beg him, his friends plead with him, “Please Whelan, please just for one day wear something different. A jumper, a polo neck, even a different shirt. Just please, I can’t bear to look at you anymore.” But with a calm wave of his hand Whelan silences them, “This is me now, this is what I wear and I shall never change.” And Joel, sweet, sweet Joel. He is weeping now, silently, bravely. Oozing strength of character from his tear ducts. Demonstrating the remarkable courage it takes to wake up every morning knowing that you have no other choice than to be Joel for another day. It can’t be easy.
Since my last report, a year ago, the boys have gone from strength to strength. At that time, with fifty five loyal subscribers behind them and almost as many Twitter followers it seemed like things couldn’t get any better for them. Then they released Halloween Costumes – Easy To Get Wrong…
Disaster has struck Third Leg Studios and it could not have come at a worse time. It seemed like nothing could impede the momentum of the Third Leg steam train as it roared through YouTube, racking up views like nobody’s business. Like a raging bull in an antique china shop the boys were absolutely smashing it. But then, the inevitable happened.
It was only a matter of time before all those views and 45 subscribers went to their heads. Joel’s ego was the first to escalate out of control. A victim of fame he began refusing to eat anything that wasn’t cut into bite-sized portions and fed directly into his mouth. He was hospitalised two weeks later after his Nan grew bored of feeding him.
A big star now, Tel became vain and self obsessed. He would spend hours looking at himself in the mirror stroking his pathetically hairless cheeks, whispering to himself seductively, “you’re a star boy, you’re a star” over and over again, occasionally giving his reflection a playful lick. Whelan, usually the voice of reason, was unable to salvage the situation after he himself was incarcerated. After being told that he could not skip the queue at Potty Pancakes in Shoreditch, Whelan became incensed and the police arrived to find him manic, screaming at the pancake vendor “Don’t you know who I am?! For the love of Christ why doesn’t anybody know who I am?!”
Needless to say this unembellished story explains the recent lack of activity from the boys. However, it is the dawn of a new year and the boys are back on track. They have even set up a personalised Twitter account. So if you thought that they were on a rampage before then imagine what havoc they will wreak with 15 loyal followers behind them. Stand aside 2015, Third Leg are back in business!
There has been much speculation as to the cause of Third Leg’s recent inactivity. I, personally, have been inundated with queries as to their whereabouts and why so much time has elapsed since their last production.
Certain critics, such as The Times, have accused Third Leg of being all washed up. They have proposed and I quote, “that they have had their blaze of glory and it is now apparent that their moment of fame was just a fluke”.
Troubling stuff. However, I am writing this entry to dispel such rumours and reassure the general public that you have not heard the last from those boys at Third Leg Studios. So, what are they doing? Are they filming another production? Are they in Joel’s Nan’s living room right now, editing as we speak?
It may or may not surprise you to learn that the answer is, in fact, none of the above. Like all creative geniuses, the boys’ metabolisms slow down rapidly during the summer months and so they have been hibernating at Joel’s Nan’s house until the climate cools again. Burning only one calorie a week the three boys lie on Nan’s two-man reclining sofa, wrapped under one pink woolly blanket, seemingly bereft of life.
However, I shall reiterate, fear not. They are fed bi-weekly by Joel’s Nan who wakes them for the briefest of moments, on Tuesdays and Saturdays, when she feeds them Ribena juice boxes through those little straws that they come with. And so, sustained and nourished solely by delicious blackcurrant juice, the boys lie dormant.
However, I have been among Third Leg Studios for a few months now and I am starting to realise that their actions can never be taken at face value. Their mysterious nature confounds me. Time and time again they have made it apparent that all is not as it seems. Which, in a way, fills me with excitement since I cannot help but ask the question that we are all thinking: “Are they hibernating? Or, are they brainstorming?”
The bells are ringing at Third Leg Studios as they reach yet another monumental milestone in their ascent to stardom. The news is everywhere and I can confirm first hand that the rumours are true. They have just received their 25th subscriber!
It is hard to believe that this small troupe of professional film-makers could hit the big two five mark after only a few short months in the industry. When asked what their secret was the boys from Third Leg simply stood up and said in unison “it is because we are leg”, before sitting back down together in perfect synchronisation.
This strange response baffled me at first but then I realised what they meant. Like many of the productions made by Third Leg, one has to read between the lines to extract its deeper meaning. A leg is not only a structure necessary for support and stability it is also one’s main point of connection to the ground. And it is that message, I believe, that the boys were trying to convey: “we are leg” i.e. “we stay grounded”. There can be no doubt that this unparalleled humility is a major driving force behind their success.
Whatever they are doing seems to be working. Fans everywhere have been lauding them incessantly. “They are really good,” said Joel’s mum. “Those boys are brilliant,” remarked someone else. One thing is clear. They have the public behind them. There can be no argument there.
It’s a sad day at the studio. Outside the weather is overcast and grey. The boys have assembled themselves at the editing suite for another hard day’s graft, however, they have just got in from a big night out and it pains me to say that they look disgusting.
Clearly defeated the boys slouch down at the editing desk and with a synchronised long wearied sigh, they close their eyes and wait for death. It appears it’s all over for them – they may as well knock this day on the head. I simply do not see how they will recover from this and it is with a feeling of great disappointment that I pack up my things to leave.
But hang on what’s this?! Whelan’s eyes have sprung open and slowly his tremulous hand struggles towards the mouse of the iMac. And goodness gracious, Joel and Tel seem to be following suit! This is absolutely remarkable; I must admit I did not see this coming.
Surely the boys will take but a moment’s rest to nurse their raging hangovers. Surely they will allow themselves some short respite. Surely they can’t do this to themselves, it is painful to watch.
But no, although their bodies scream out desperately for kip they ignore these cries and continue their work with the same kind of dogged determination that built the Pyramids of Giza and the Great Wall of China.
Good god these boys are brave. Are they an inspiration? Who’s to say? Are they the embodiment of all that is right with the world? I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess. All I know is that what I am witnessing right now is truly impressive. And in my completely impartial opinion, those boys at Third Leg Studios, those boys are good.
It is that time again. The boys at third leg studios are taking some time to bask in the adoration of their fans and critics. It has been a few days since the successful release of their latest production, “The Prank”.
The TLS boys are remarkably modest and only said that they were pleased with their production as a work of art in itself. However, I have heard that Tel’s dad, brother and his friend Dave have all given extremely positive feedback. An unequivocally excellent result!
Many now cannot help but ask the question, what is next for third leg studios? So far, they have made wonderfully insightful observations into society, challenged norms and explored the very depths of the human soul. But how will they continue to push the boat out? Some have expressed doubts that TLS will be able to push barriers any further without becoming too controversial.
When asked to comment on this during a recent brain storming session Whelan, seemingly startled, had this to say, “What!! Don’t let the cat grab the milk!!” Before closing his eyes again, pulling his blanket tighter around him and returning to the brainstorm from which the boys take little respite.
Was Whelan talking incoherently as a result of having had his focus broken? Or maybe, just maybe, he was making an abstract comment revealing the nature of an upcoming production. I suppose only time will tell.
Another eventful day at TLS headquarters. The staff have been running around like headless chickens. It is the eve of the release of another production and there is much to be done.
Whelan stands at the head of the editing team and drives the process forward with a regimented discipline that would make even the most callous slave-master shudder. His work space is littered with empty Ribena juice boxes and it is clear by his trembling hands that he has had too many. However, it is a stressful industry and we must take whatever supplements necessary to boost our productivity. How else are we to make our deadlines?
Meanwhile, Joel and Tel are equally hard at work. Wrapped up in one big pink woolly blanket on Nan’s reclining sofa, Joel and Tel viciously brainstorm ideas for another production. You see, quick turnaround is everything in this industry and the end of one production does not mean a break (as you may have thought), it simply emphasises the urgency to have another sketch in the pipeline if we are to stay ahead of our closest rivals (the College Humour channel).
A bead of sweat breaks down Tel’s head as his mind whirls and sifts ideas with the utmost voracity. Joel unleashes what could easily be mistaken for a snore, but what the TLS boys instantly recognise as a grunt of effort. The two of them appear to look so peaceful, wrapped up together. No-one would know to look at them that these are two heterosexual creative geniuses. No-one but Whelan, who glances over and gives a nod of approval at his hard working compatriots.
Meanwhile, the catering staff are hard at work. Slaving away in the hot kitchen. Like the coal shovellers in the engine room of a racing steam train, the catering team fuel the rampant machine that is Third Leg Studios. I wonder what Nana is cooking for dinner?