There was uproar in the council chamber of Sodden Prickney Parish Council, when it was revealed that an outrageous pamphlet about Alderman Sid Trumpet was to be published in The Sodden Prickney Bugle and had certain allegations mentioned on pages three, nine, twenty and twenty-seven.
The pamplet, entitled 'Fit and furry', was described by Ms Edwina Baggage, who is bicycling correspondent for The Bugle and quite happy doing it, (we know - Ed) as 'a travesty of innuendo and opprobrium'!
As nobody in the room understood a word of what she was going on about, the confusion was further compounded, when Count Basil Kalashnikov started his usual tirade at all and sundry, by rushing around the room, knocking over chairs and tables, waving his arms and yelling 'Sod everything', then collapsing close to the fragrant knee of Ms Cynthia Molestrangler, who is no stranger to such antics, as she often does the same thing herself!
Mr Norman Wibble piped up that it was well known that the main source of the verbal, slanderous attack in 'Fat and fruity', was none other than a discredited whale-meat purveyor, Ivor Bunion, who once used to share a room with Alderman Sid Trumpet, until he became better known as Mr Chairman.
So as the general confusion reached a crescendo not unlike that in 'Lohengrin', or 'Tannhauser', maybe even Wagnerian, (get on with it - Ed), it was noted that Miss Amelia Newt had disappeared from the room! This was duly minuted by the Secretary, a new face on the Committee, Madame St Mont-Shemel, a French import from Brittany. Why she bothered to write it down is a mystery, as Miss Newt immediately returned, dragging her one-time lifelong squeeze, Cllr Ron Groat, who often had his tea and crumpet with Ms Newt, by his scarf, and led him whimpering to the red faces of the committee, where she began to beat him senseless with a large golfing umbrella, and proclaimed him as the source of the fake news.
As nobody actually knew what the news was, because nobody had actually read 'Fifty and flighty', they wondered briefly what all the fuss was about, and moved on to the next item on the agenda, the replacement knob on the door of the gents.
I agree with Ms Baggage. "Fat and Flabby" (otherwise known as the SPB) is an outrageous, scandalous and despicable rag from which I, this morning, cancelled my subscription. There is no way that was a penalty and in my view the Editor should be banned to the library for a month to engage in semantics with Ms Cottonsox for trying to create divisions among the darts team.
ReplyDeletePS: Good job they didn't get as far as page 35!!
24 goes to get published!!!
The Sodden Prickney Bugle seems to be going downhill these days. Not enough readers and we know who to blame for that when anyone can read the library copy in comfort and warmth for nothing.
ReplyDeleteI gave up on the Bugle after that fiasco where they kept using “The Big Issue” as their front page headline and Ms Edwina Baggage had to stand outside Kleptomart selling it for whatever the locals would give. Not much as we duly found out.
Although sometimes being described as "a numpty fluffy-head" or even "a daft tart" I am normally quite savvy about the various things I subscribe to; however Mrs Baggage has a very good case there! The "Food For Free" brochure used to be very enticing with its relatively cheap trips to various foraging areas in the countryside. They included an expert who was on-hand to help put up your tent, taught you how to light a fire by rubbing your legs together over a Swan Vesta match, and even how to create a delicious three-course meal from your harvests. OK, some of us did cheat a bit but the expert was quite accommodating insofar as he would cycle to the nearest chippie as long as there were no questions asked about who tent he chose to spend the night. Boy, we were so grateful! Er, getting back to the point, my last copy of this new, improved, updated so-called brochure's trips now entails you catching a bus (at your own expense) where you are be met by a guide who will show you round all the restaurants, cafes etc so you can locate their rubbish bins to see what you can find to re-cycle, then you are given half an hour to put it to good use. The best one gets a prize! When we found out that was to be automatically given a seat on the Sodden Prickney Council, wow - it was like watching "Braveheart" and hearing Beethoven's Fifth at the same time simultaneously!! Council members - beware your sins will find you out!
ReplyDeleteMr Reevers - you've been promoted - the scandalous lies perpetuated by Ms Baggage have not gone un-noticed, especially by several of her young appointees, including Wayne Boggis, Wayfarer Deluxe (remember that), and Meccano 'Parts' Sagtrouser who is on day-release!
ReplyDeleteThe confusion is being exacerbated as we speak...
You're absolutely right, Mr Haart! Frankly, I'm amazed that Ms Edwina Baggage has lasted this long, having been a bicycle for many years, perhaps thirty or so!
ReplyDeleteBasil Kalashnikov has threatened to bring his increasing family over to this country, and I dread the consequences oof their arrival too! Shurely the circulation of 'The Bugle' will climb back into double figures soon? I mean, Ms Molestrangler is getting on for twenty stone, so that counts, doesn't it? A double issue?
Aaah, Mrs Goose, the Swan Vesta trick! When Mr Wibble was in prison for a short sentence after the unpleasantness at the village hall some years ago, he learned the trick of taking a drawing pin and splitting the match into four, thereby saving money for his tobacco habit!
ReplyDeleteThe 'Delve and selve' initiative never really worked around here. Skip-diving became a county-wide diversion for the many illegals entering the country through the ports of Cambridge, Oxford and Durham, so it's unlikely that the quiet county of Kent, which sometimes borders Somerset, will become so embroiled!
Now, back to the leg-rubbing bit...I'll ask Sid Trumpet what it's all about and you will be the first to know!
I knew that scamp Wayfarer DeLuxe quite well. But that was way back in the day (as they say) when everybody who was anybody was out at weekends going "camping" and causing unrestricted mayhem on every country lane in the neighbourhood. As if anyone would believe that!
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I heard he was lucky to stay out of the Scrubs for that disgusting incident though.... can't quite recall the exact details after all these years, but it was to do with something about (inadvertently, or so he claimed!) brushing Winny Bago's ..er.. bumper.
Ah - I thought I recognised that name from somewhere! When I used to work at the local asylum he was well-known for directing anyone driving out of the estate gate with a little wave of his hand. After the number of road accidents at the aforesaid site rose to an unacceptable level (thus depleting the nearby Blood Transfusion Department of their O Rhesus negative supply) he was gently led away by the neck and put into the day room so he could be re-united with his wife, Mrs. Del-uxor, who was also one of Mr Wibble's ancestors. Oh the stories she came out with about his incessant trumpeting and bugle-bending! He had all the necessary scout badges, toggles, and ditties to keep everybody entertained until well after sunset. He claimed the "bumper" incident was no more than a failed attempt to loiter with intent but the picture of the tyre tracks on his uniform submitted to the court told otherwise.
ReplyDeleteI think it was his comment about Winny's bodywork, chassis, headlights and hooters was the clincher for the judge! Serves him right though, definitely.
ReplyDeleteHaving looked into this rather interesting case, it seems he was supposedly just checking for rust and making sure everything was in full working order before she went any distance. It was also rather unfortunate that his statement "Your tyres need pumping-up" was taken the wrong way by Mrs Bagel. I think he was very lucky to escape a far longer sentence, especially when the judge was summing-up the trial and was well on his way to completing it without any full stops.
ReplyDelete(Ever so slightly off topic, but)..The last time I went "camping" - more years ago than I care to contemplate - I ended up being the midwife to a cow (a real one with udders and things!).
ReplyDeleteThere were four of us in two tents fast asleep in a farmer's field which he had granted permission for us to use. At about 3am we heard him outside the tents calling us to wake up as he needed our help. He led us to the next field where a cow was lying in a corner in some distress trying to expel her calf, which was stuck with just the front legs showing. He tied a yard or two of rope around each ankle and asked us to take them and stand a few steps back, thereby straightening each rope. He told us to relax, but when he said "Pull" we should do so as hard as we could. He then took a tube of Fairy liquid out of his box, sprayed a bit on the exposed legs and then gave the order. So we all pulled as hard as we could - and very slowly the rest of the calf emerged.
Both he and the cow were very relieved at the outcome as the calf was saved and looked healthy. Had we not been there that night, the outcome may well have been very different. The next day he treated us to a delicious lunch in the local village pub.
I think James Herriot mentioned that method in one of his books. How nice of the farmer to repay you for your efforts. You could add that to your CV!
ReplyDeleteI reckon it was just Reevers trying to get a bit part in 'Call the midwife'...
ReplyDelete