A Children's TV show in which grown ups would sit in a chair and read from a storybook, as cameras occasionally panned slowly across a drawing as a substitute for "action".
This show, dedicated to fantastical storytelling, became a synonym for bullshit. When a story (usually an account of sexual athleticism from the hairy boy) is obviously biglies, you can shout "Jackanory!", or more subtly checking your watch and saying "Oh, is it 4.15 already?"

After listening to a fantasist regale us with tall tales, we would sing the theme tune to Storybook International. This was an ITV programme with animated opening titles of a suspiciously elegant bard. His beautiful singing would attract the attention of a fox, until he transformed without warning into a naked black man, scaring the shit out of his vulpine chum. Look, I'm not making this up.

Anyway, when he sings about his name in many countries, that's your opportunity to work in the insult. For example: if Roly claimed that his brother had a fight with Wolf from The Gladiators, you would sing:

I'm the Storyteller and my story must be told,
In Germany I'm Johannes, in England I am John,
In Cheltenham I'm Roly, and I'm a lying cunt.

If the liar was actually called John or, God forbid, Johannes, the last line could simply be repaced by a mongoloid impression, and a celebratory flid flippers dance.

James Schofield had a particularly vivid imagination when it came to the sixth form girls and their exploits with him. And so he was redubbed "Matty" after Matthew Pearson in Grange Hill. The implication being that not only did he tell lots of lies, but he was getting bummed by his dad.