"Oh it all makes so much sense now. Those sensible shoes…" Picture: New Statesman
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Exclusive: the long-awaited lesbian Peppa Pig fanfiction

Norman Lamb MP recently critisized the lack of queer representation in the hit children's TV show. But how would it work in practice?

Marriage; tick. Right to adopt; tick. Legal protection from discrimination; tick. Visibility in cartoons about twee, porcine adventures; massive cross. Last week, my niece’s favourite programme, Peppa Pig, was scrutinised by Lib Dem MP Norman Lamb (who, fittingly, sounds a bit like a character off the show himself) for its dearth of lesbian characters. And he’s absolutely right. In the fantastically popular cartoon’s entire cast of misshapen anthropomorphic freak beasts, not a single one of them is an out and proud gay.

So I’ve, frankly, done us all a favour by writing some much needed lesbianism into an episode of Peppa Pig…

***

[Insanely annoying musical intro]

Narrator with “I have a comforting formation of pixels where my penis should be” voice: Mummy Pig Tips the Velvet

Ext. the Pig household, night. An owl is hooting.

Narrator: It’s nighttime. Peppa, George and Daddy Pig are are fast asleep. But Mummy Pig is still awake…

Int. Mummy and Daddy Pig’s bedroom. Daddy Pig is snoring loudly. Mummy Pig looks cross. She nudges him.

Mummy Pig: Daddy Pig… DADDY PIG!

[Daddy Pig wakes up with a start]

Daddy Pig: SNORT. Wha – goodness me, what is the matter, Mummy Pig?

Mummy Pig: You were snoring again.

Daddy Pig: No I wasn’t. I know when I’m snoring.

[Mummy Pig closes her eyes and raises her weird pig hands in an “I give up” sort of gesture]

Mummy Pig: Daddy Pig. We need to talk.

Daddy Pig: Nighttime isn’t for talking, Mummy Pig. You’ll wake up Peppa and George.

Mummy Pig: Well, your snoring hasn’t woken them up, has it?

[Daddy Pig snorts indignantly]

Mummy Pig: Listen, Daddy Pig…

Daddy Pig: What?

Mummy Pig: Are you… happy?

Daddy Pig: As happy as anybody in a bizarre, post-nuclear dreamscape where everyone’s nose is on the side of their head can be. Why?

Mummy Pig: Well, I’m not.

Daddy Pig: Oh. Is it Peppa? Look, yes, we’ve raised an obnoxious little shit. But it’s not entirely our fault…

Mummy Pig: No, it’s not Peppa. Yes, she’s a nightmare and I have no idea how we managed to spawn the living Devil, but that’s beside the point. It’s you, Daddy Pig. It’s us.

Daddy Pig: What do you mean?

Mummy Pig: Daddy Pig. I love you. I love George. I even love Peppa, in a way. But I’ve been dishonest with you for a while. I’m a –

Daddy Pig: Don’t say it, Mummy Pig. Do not sit here and tell me you’re a –

Mummy Pig: Lesbian.

Daddy Pig: Sweet Jesus.

[Daddy Pig starts bawling uncontrollably]

Daddy Pig: [through tears] Oh it all makes so much sense now. Those sensible shoes…

Mummy Pig: Now hold on a sec – there’s only one type of shoe in this universe and we all wear it. You can hardly –

Daddy Pig: [ignoring her] the life-size sculpture of Gillian Anderson you bought on eBay, “for a joke”. Your completely irrational aversion to my hideous, foot-long corkscrew pig penis…

Mummy Pig: [in a soothing tone] Look, Daddy Pig…

[Daddy Pig continues to expel a stream of loud sobs, punctuated by snorts]

Daddy Pig: So is there… is there a woman?

Mummy Pig: [sighs] Yes. Donna Dolphin.

Daddy Pig: So you’re leaving me then? For a dolphin? Does she even live on land? What is this fucked up world we live in where lesbian dolphins live on land? That nuclear fallout really has done a number on us all.

Mummy Pig: We’re in love.

[Daddy Pig jumps out of bed and starts pacing, head in hands]

Mummy Pig: Daddy Pig, I know how hard this must be, but –

[Daddy Pig opens a window]

Daddy Pig: [Shouting out the window] GOOD NEWS EVERYBODY. MY WIFE IS IN LOVE WITH A DOLPHIN. A FEMALE DOLPHIN.

Mummy Pig: [furious] DADDY PIG.

[The bedroom door opens. Peppa and George enter, rubbing their eyes]

Peppa: Why are you crying, daddy? I’m scared.

George: [snort]

Daddy Pig: Children, your mother has something to tell you.

Peppa: Oh, did you tell him, Mummy? About you being a lesbinum?

[Daddy Pig’s mouth drops wide open]

Peppa: Silly daddy. Everyone knows mummy is a lesbinum. Even George worked it out. And the only word he knows is “dinosaur”.

George: Dinosaur, rawr!

[Daddy Pig silently curls into a foetal position on the floor]

Peppa: Mummy, when I grow up, can I be a lesbinum? Boys are yucky.

CREDITS

Eleanor Margolis is a freelance journalist, whose "Lez Miserable" column appears weekly on the New Statesman website.

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Marvel has moved past the post-credits teaser, and it's all the better for it

Individual stories are suddenly taking precedence over franchise building.

The lasting contribution of 2008’s Iron Man to contemporary cinema comes not from the content of the film itself, but in its Avengers-teasing post-credits scene featuring an eyepatch-sporting Samuel L. Jackson. While post-credits scenes were not invented by Marvel, their widespread adoption in other blockbusters is a testament to Marvel using them to titillate and frustrate.

Fast forward nine years and Marvel’s direction has significantly altered. Having moved to a three-film-a-year structure ahead of next year’s climactic Infinity War, their two releases this summer have featured less explicit connective tissue, using post-credits scenes that are, in typical Marvel fashion, self-reflexive and fun – but this time with no teases for films to come.

Where previous Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) films have trailed characters donning superhero mantles, confrontations to come, or more light-hearted team ups, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 decided to lovingly poke fun at Marvel grandmaster Stan Lee, leaving him stranded on a godforsaken space rock in the outer reaches of the stars. Spider-Man: Meanwhile Homecoming targeted filmgoers who had stayed until the end in expectation of a tease, only to receive a Captain America educational video on the virtues of “patience”.

That isn’t to say that connective tissue isn’t there. Marvel seems to be pursuing world building not through post-credits stingers, but through plot and character. In the past, teasing how awful big bad Thanos is ahead of the Avengers battling him in Infinity War would have been done through a menacing post-credits scene, as in both Avengers films to date. Instead Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 uses character as a tool to explore the world at large.

Nebula’s seething rage is, rather than just a weak excuse for an antagonist’s arc, actually grounded in character, explaining to Sean Gunn’s loveable space pirate Kraglin that Thanos would pit his daughters, her and Gamora, against each other, and replace a part of her body with machine each time she failed – and she failed every time. It’s effective. Thanos’ menace is developed, and you feel sympathy for Nebula, something Marvel has historically failed to do well for its antagnoists. Her parting promise – to kill her father – not only foreshadows the events of Infinity War, but also hints at the conclusion of a fully formed arc for her character.

In the high-school-set Spider-Man: Homecoming, the stakes quite rightly feel smaller. The inexperienced wall-crawler gets his chance to save the day not with the galaxy at risk, but with an equipment shipment owned by Iron Man alter-ego and billionaire inventor Tony Stark hanging in the balance. While such a clear metaphor for widespread change in the MCU might be a little on the nose, the set-up is effective at plaing the film at street level while also hinting at overall changes to the structure of the universe.

Stark gifting Peter a new (and oh so shiny) suit is a key set piece at the end of the film, whereas in 2015's Ant-Man’s Hope Pym inheriting her mother’s own miniaturising suit it is relegated to a teaser. Peter’s decision to turn it down not only completes Peter’s transition past seeking the approval of Stark’s unwitting father figure, but it also leaves the Avengers in an as-yet unknown state, still fragmented and incomplete after the events of 2016’s Civil War. To anticipate Spider-Man joining the Avengers proper is to anticipate the forming of the team as a whole – keeping our collective breath held until we stump up for tickets to Infinity War.

With this happy marriage of the macro and the micro, individual stories are suddenly taking precedence in the MCU, rather than being lost in the rush to signpost the foundations for the next instalment in the franchise. It’s a refreshingly filmic approach, and one which is long overdue. To suggest that Marvel is hesitant to overinflate Infinity War too early is supported by their refusal to share the footage of the film screened to audiences at the D23 and San Diego Comic Con events in recent weeks. Instead, the limelight is staying firmly on this November’s Thor: Ragnarok, and next February’s Black Panther.

Stan Lee, at the end of his Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 post credits scene, cries, “I’ve got so many more stories to tell!”, a hopeful counterpoint to a weary Captain America asking “How many more of these are there?” at the end of Homecoming. With Disney having planned-out new MCU releases all the way into 2020, entries in the highest-grossing franchise of all time won’t slow any time soon. We can, at least, hope that they continue their recent trend of combining writerly craft with blockbuster bombast. While the resulting lack of gratuitousness in Marvel’s storytelling might frustrate in the short term, fans would do well to bear in mind Captain America’s call for patience.