During the Sodden Prickney meeting, which was hurriedly convened (after the unpleasantness in the church hall last Tuesday), to vote in a new Chairman for the Ways, Drains and Minge (don't you mean 'means' - Ed), committee, there was some commotion owing to certain personalities causing mayhem, while Mr Sid Trumpet took to the podium. (and allegedly to several usherettes - Ed)
Ms Billary and Mr Clinchton were seated in the front row of the assembled throng, and Mr Trumpet was in full flow under the searching light of the forty watt bulbs used to illuminate the flats on each side of the stage, and still bore the sad efforts of the Sodden Prickney AmDrams to produce a musical tribute to 'Ben Hur' last autumn.
Mr Trumpet pulled a silk handkerchief from the top pocket of his Harris Tweed, and out fluttered a Victoria's Secret receipt, which was pounced on by Mr Clinchton, to use as evidence of Mr Trumpet's inclination to aver towards the ladies more than somewhat, which was always his personal domain.
In doing the pounce, Mr Clinchton crashed into the trestle table where the rest of the committee were seated, and the result was rather like group sex in an E Type Jag, all legs, arms and broken glass! At a signal from Mr Trumpet, the back two rows of the assembled throng, which consisted of the bass section of the Basingstoke Ebenezer Church Girls Choir, began to march forward in unison, pointing accusatory fingers at Mr Clinchton, and singing The Hanging Song from 'Cat Ballou'!
Of course, Ms Billary became agitated, and as is the case when she is agitated, she sent off three emails to various countries, firing a small missile in India, causing all the traffic cameras in Scunthorpe to crash and starting a small famine in Denmark. She blamed Brexit of course, so Mr Obammaloo was as pleased as ever, as he wanted to be at the front of the queue, but nobody would let him! (I think you're becoming a little confused in that last bit, Mr O'Blene - Ed).
Sid Trumpet is ninety-three.
To one.
(As erudite as ever, Mr O'Blene. Perhaps we can alter one or two or seven passages during lunch - Ed)
7 comments:
Dear Editor,
For the sake of accuracy, the vehicle in question was not a Jaguar. I happened to pass by in my Morris Minor on my way to the library last Thursday evening and came across the incident to which the Secretary referred. The vehicle was without doubt a TR7. However, despite the fact that the side windows and the windscreen were completely steamed up, although the canvas roof had been lowered, I would fully agree with the writer's description of the chaos on view. Needless to say, I hurried on by without stopping to see if everyone was enjo... er... unharmed in the ...er... crash.
I would also like to make perfectly clear - or "aver" if you so prefer - that the receipt in question was certainly not for the pair of black slinky (do I mean silky?).. er... oven gloves which were mysteriously delivered to my cottage over the weekend by persons unknown.
I trust you to make the necessary corrections to ensure the maintenance of the highest possible standards. Mr Sid is a lovely old gentlemen who visits the library almost daily to read the newspapers and occasionally play with the computer in the children's room.
Yours etc
P.C (Ms) c/o The Library
I also received some odd emails from Ms Billary and the last one told me to burn all her previous emails. I’m not sure what she means but I’m not keen on igniting the library computing and online diversity facility bought at such great expense all those years ago.
Usually I pay attention to Ms Billary especially when she comes over all hot and agitated although Mr Clinchton doesn’t which may explain one or two dubious incidents in and around the Sodden Prickney Left-Handed Bowls Club.
It may have been a TR6, Polly. They had the extra cigar-lighter in the dash. Mainly, such items were what Mr Clinchton used after his 'insertions', (as explained when he was accused of doing serious things with cigars), and were nonetheless part of the investigation.
I think the whole issue stinks!
(As does our local septic-tank emptier, who arrives twice a year with a smile on his face)!
Bugger me! Mr Haart!
Were you aware of the special needs of that particular Left-Handed Bowls Club!
I'll need more evidence - preferably in writing - of the words spoken by Ms Billary during her advice to the Ways and Minge Committee.
I'm not sure what to do next...
I'll ask someone!
You don't know what to do next? Do the council still use the old fashioned and boring show of hands method for their elections? Such methods are completely open to a corrupted result, especially if the giver offers half the council members a free night out in a certain local nightclub as a quid pro quo (I saw that expression on the telly the other night). You can't trust anyone these days.
Have you lost the phone number of that young long-haired telecomms installer bloke from the computer shop in the mall? I am sure he will be able to instal a suitable mechanism in the system to ensure the correct result for your preferred next Chairman. Use a bit of initiative lad! But don't reveal you got this tip from me. You ain't seen me, right?
Because there are now some more emails being hacked, Reevers, I am instructed by my legal team that unable to comment!
It's a sad day, when an established blogger is unable to say where the Billary emails came from, and worse, where they went!
The famine (or was it an explosion), in Denmark, has had ripples!
Rather like seeing Ms Billary in a cold shower, only different...
Eurrgghhh!! Now you have put me right off my lunch!
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