And they said it couldn't be done. The entire 22 year history of television's most cheerful, friendly, gor-blimey-let's-go-for-a-knees-up-in-the-Vic long-running serial. But here it is, boiled down to its bare bones. And as you can see, nothing much has happened, to be honest.
Some people were born. Some died. Some people got called a shlaaaag and got barred from the Vic for a week. Nobody ever got a job or a washing machine, and Ian Beale got his head flushed down the toilet. Can we go home now?
EastEnders - The whole 22 years
R. Cox: Hello, I am Reg Cox, and I am excellent. I hope to have a long happy future in this new continuing drama based in TEH SQUARE and... Oh. I appear to be dead. Arse.
Arthur Fowler: Gor blimey strike a light, poor old Reg, eh?
Pauline Fowler: Never mind, love. Come and have a nice cup of tea. I am not yet bitter, twisted and wizened, and still have a touch of Miss Brahms about me. Give it twenty years or so.
Michelle Fowler: I'm pregnant, and D. Den's the father. LOL
Tucker Jenkins Fowler: And I've got the good AIDS, FFS. Thx for telling TEH SQAURE about it P. Fowler
Arthur Fowler: ONOZ! Mmmmmng! Mnnnnnng! I've gone mental, me. Mnnng! And I have been shagging a woman rather less wizened and bitter than you. Mnnnnng!
Pauline Fowler: Never mind, love. Come and have a nice cup of tea. Oh. He is dead. LOLZ
N. Cotton: Hello Ma. I am Nick Cotton and I am
D. Cotton: Just wait until Mr Popodopodopododoplous hears about this.
E. Skinner: Ooooh, me little willy! LOLZ *dies*
Pete Beale: 'Ello tweacle *dies*
D. Den: Hello. I am D. Den and I am excellent. I have just knocked up that girl who was in Grange Hill. LOL!
Angie Den: U shlaaag, D. Den!
D. Den: Shut your face, you drunken old harpy. I want a divorce. ROFL
A. Den: You cannot. I am dying. Dying of TEH CANCER!
D. Den: ONOZ!
A. Den: Only joking. LOLOLOLOL! I'm off up West.
D. Den: Oh. I have been shot.
A. Den: This calls for a knees-up in the Vic
Sharon Den: Jowly jowly shlag jowly
Bloke from Heartbeat: tinkle tinkle Every Loser Wins tinkle number one hit tinkle LOL
A. Den: Sod this, you shlaaags, I'm off to get married to B. May out of Queen. ROFFLE *dies*
G. Mitchell: Hello. I am Grunt Mitchell and I am excellent. This is my pub now, shlaaaaaag.
P. Mitchell: It is also my pub and I am buying up most of TEH SQUARE. You're barred, shlaaaaag.
B. Windsor: You tell 'em boys. It's famleeeeee. You're barred, saucy.
I. Beale: Plz to not flush my head dn teh shitta!
P. Mitchell: LOLOLZ @ I.Beale!
I. Beale: ONOZ! *gargle*
P. Mitchell: Also, I have been screwing my bruv's jowly wife. LOLZ
G. Mitchell: SHLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG!
P. Mitchell: Ow. Now somebody has shot me. But it wasn't my bruv, even though I have been shagging his jowly wife S. Den. So much for the Best Christmas Walford's Ever Seen
Spandau Ballet Bloke: Preen preen I was in the Krays, y'know *dies*
D. Den: I am not TEH DED after all LOLZ *dies* Oh
Tucker Jenkins Fowler: Neither am I TEH DED either *dies* Oh
F. Butcher: RICKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
B. Anca: RICKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
R. Ickeeee: Wot? I am leaving TEH SQUARE to pursue a pop career, which will flop horribly. In doing so I shall also turn down a leading role in a major Spielberg movie. And you thought Ricky was thick
F. Butcher: I wish I was TEH DED. They've got me shagging Fat Pat, who is both fat and orange. ONOZ!
F. Pat: Wobble wobble wibble shlaaaaaaag!
M. McCutcheon: This is going to be the best Christmas Walford's ever seen. Oh. I am dead, and appearing in variety.
F. Butcher: Whoops, sorry there love. *dies*
Slater Girls: Shouty shouty shlaaag famleeee shouty shouty
Little Mo Slater: whinewhinewhinewhinewhine
Little Mo Slater's Evil Scotch Husband: Arf arf arf! Oh. I am TEH DED
Little Mo Slater: Hooray! Now to marry B. Mitchell on the rebound, even though he has a face like a weasel and the most gormless man TEH SQUARE has ever seen
K. Beale: Hello! I left the series several years ago to live in South Africa. Now I am TEH DED, but here is P. Mitchell's dismal son, if things weren't depressing enough as it is. LOL
B. Mitchell: Hello Dad. I hate you. I'm off to live with I. Beale.
I. Beale: LOLOLOLZ!
Bloke out of Quadrophenia: Ooooooi! Parklife! Geezer! Etc! (Actually, like Spandau Ballet bloke, I am a proper actor, and I am taking this mere mummer's role between treading the hallowed boards in Stratford in one of the Bard's masterpieces. Chin chin!)
Sonia Jackson: Hello! I am M. Fowler's wife, but now I am off to join the lezzers. LOL
M. Fowler: Phwoooooar! I mean... oh, please come back. Even though you've got a face like a melted owl, like.
S. Jackson: OK then.
M. Fowler: Hooray! Just wait until I tell my bitter and twisted hag of a mother that I've done it with a carpet muncher, LOL
P. Fowler: I'm still here and I hate you all. *dies*
P. Mitchell: Now to get married to Mad Stella, even though she's beating my turd of a son to kingdom come, and she's promised me she's not a mental
Mad Stella: I am not mad, you know. Wibble. Fruitloop! Fruitloop! *dies*
P. Mitchell: Whoops.
B. Mitchell: I hate you dad.
I. Beale: LOLOLZ @ P. Mitchell
Dot Cotton: Hello! I am still not TEH DED, and I have outlived everybody on TEH SQUARE, and I have hardly murdered anybody at all to DETH
Dirty Den: I am back again with my ZOMBIE ARMY. Braaainssssss.....
Dot Cotton: Oooh, get thee behind me Satan. *dies*
DUM-DUM-DUM-DIDDLY-DIDDLY-DUM
If you're asking, the other EastEnders thing I wrote is HERE.
More condense-o-films including Doctor Who, Star Wars and Pretty Woman HERE.
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