You think you know what GoodGym do. You think it’s just a bit of running and do-gooding (and we do both exquisitely) however down in Lambeth we do a little more and this week during the task we went undercover and expose the underground world of Lambeth.

We’re also excellent bakers as Milly proved with an insanely brilliant gingerbread box filled with mini gingerbread GoodGym runners, complete with red T-Shirts and no pants… which is extraordinarily accurate.

Our roving reporters Laura, Jay and Alex K give us the skinny on the night.

Painting and porn at Papas by Laura V

Eight eager beavers were set the task of painting the fencing at Papas Park on Tuesday 25th August. The leader of the pack Raunchy Rebecca, dived into the shed to retrieve the painting paraphernalia. Whilst pulling out the dirty paint trays and stiffened brushes she cleverly protrayed the number one pole dancer move - legs straight and slightly spread, back rigid and bend at the waist. Thankfully Bootilicious Beth was on hand to pap away as the demonstration took place. Out in the courtyard the rest of the pack were trying to work out ways to clean up prematurely poured primer and release the stiffened paint from the old bristles when Arousing Alex arrived offering his pearls of wisdom. "What you need is a Fluffer like they have on porn sets", he explained "someone to mop up the mess after the action." Rebecca was keen to learn more and questioned him further, "But isn't that a mopper?" Alex grabbed a soft clean sponge from the paint table and demonstrated the role of a Fluffer whilst the group looked on in amazement. After a disappointingly brief demonstration Vivacious Verity sprung into action to get started on the job and was quickly followed by the rest of the bunch. Luscious Laura and Tempestuous Tom set to the tricky task of painting the gate but sadly managed to spurt more paint on the pavement. "Looks like I've spilled my load" Tom shouted and Rebecca was quick to the rescue with her tissues and tonic. "Don't worry I'll be your fluffer tonight guys." she exclaimed. Further down the fence Sumptuous Shelia and Sexy Sarah were delicately painting the entrance without spilling a drop. As the group finished the task in hand (mainly due to the apocalypse approaching) it was agreed that lessons had been learnt tonight; Ladies can have fun without leaving a wet patch and Rebecca really is a good Fluffer. The dirty tools were thrown away and the team had a good wipe down with some wet towels whilst wondering if they could get away with a sneaky biscuit before Milly returned.

Palace Road Rage by Jay.

Surpassing the news that One Direction will dis-band, drama unfolded in a corner of sleepy Streatham last night. Local celebrities Mica Paris and Jessie Ware were spotted having a heated tête-à-tête, whilst a mysterious gang dressed primarily in red t-shirts wielded an array of tools including machetes, pick axes and secateurs amidst the wilderness of the nature garden, in what an eye witness described as ‘astonishing scenes, almost dream-like’.

Last night, a source close to the pair confirmed, ‘it was to do with a battle over a pair of Siamese twins, which were last seen merrily boarding a hot air balloon’. Reports that the famed twins could be Elisohn, are as yet unconfirmed.

Meanwhile, in the background the gang of red went about their business in preparation for a repeat invasion in another part of South London no doubt.

Portico Nights - An Exposé - By Alex K

The great Charlie Chaplin once played at this venue, but these days the only "little tramps" The Portico sees are from GoodGym, a modern day "Irregulars" scurrying like mice around this veritable den of inequity. Orchestrated by two of the gang's leading street lieutenants, Gorgeous George and Kingpin Barnard, the GoodGym crew ferry illicit treasures up and down darkened corridors where an Aladdin's Cave of wonders awaits to satiate desires both refined and perverse.

Amongst their number is the wily soul Marie; known to "authorities" as Madame Webb. She spins more than just a good Gallic yarn as she handles monstrous arachnids that leave grown men cowering in corners. "They don't bite in this country!" she cackles in a voice straight from the cabaret halls of Pigalle. They might not; but the look in the eyes of those nearby suggests that she does!

An old jalopy splutters to life, a space clears and a grizzled figure known only as John holds court to one of the now infamous cat fights of West Norwood. The champ - Mad Mewling Methusaleh - is taking on the new mog on the block, known only as The Usurper. A hush descends, bets are placed and the crowd fixates on these prowling gladiators sizing each other up. A screech pierces through the tension and within an instant it's all over. Methusaleh curled up in John's arms. Another victory notched with little claws for concern.

And as swiftly as they arrived, the GoodGym runners are gone, dancing like shadows into the twilit streets of South London having, not for the first nor the last time, well and truly cleaned up.