The Wicker Man

As previously documented the Regulars always liked to keep abreast of current affairs beyond the confines of the Shire and the extent of their worldly knowledge often proved startling.

On discussion of a theme close home, namely the Wicker Man, one of the Regulars lamented,

"He died this week."

To which Tattoo expressed his surprise countering with,

"Who, Alan Whickar?"

An Apparently Nowhere Near Death Experience

As the majority of the Regulars were delighted with Billy Idle's recovery and progress it would seem not all of them had been struck by the gravity of his plight.

Indeed, as Imelda recounted the tale of one of her relatives it became clear that Billy's efforts had been paltry in comparison as she declared,

"He had a heart attack. Like you but he actually died."

Watership Down

As Imelda and Robin Get came to terms with the demise of Freckle, the Shire's most over-indulged rabbit, it would seem there was light at the end of their tunnel of grief as they had seen fit to allow the aforementioned to be disposed of by bin-bag rather that pay an extortionate £51 to have him char-grilled.

The Regulars were, as ever, touched by Hamish's compassion as he declared he,

"Would have done it for twenty-five."

Hot And Bothered

A Tale from the Inferno courtesy of the Dark Lord:

It has not been a good day for the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lady is unhappy and I am having trouble with the old boiler.

The problem?

Well, it was time for the annual central heating service as it had not been done for three years.

Trying to get a plumber to visit Gothic Towers had so far proved impossible.

David Attenborough was planning to produce a documentary on these elusive creatures but decided against it after an unsuccessful attempt to get a bath tap washer replaced.

Instead he used his budget to go in search of the dodo.

This morning one of these shy creatures bravely approached the main entrance carrying a bag of strange jingly things.

They can be tempted into the open by the sound of rustling £20 notes.

Before he could change his mind I opened the door a fraction and grabbed him by the arm.

I pulled him in so quickly that it left his boots spinning on the doorstep.

After bolting the door I propelled him into the boiler room where the Dark Lady was in waiting.

After we had plied him with herbal tea (we make it from those strange mushrooms which grow on the dung heap) his mood lifted to a new plane.

He doffed his cap and announced to the Dark Lady that he would give her a good servicing at which she promptly disappeared down into the dungeon.

The now happy plumber began to dismantle our heating system with relish while joyfully explaining the principles of the balanced flue and the ratio of BTU’s to gas cubic meters.

He thoughtfully scratched his head (something workmen do) as he explained that we had a cracked burner and it would have to be replaced.

He then began to scratch his crotch (something mechanics do before telling you of a serious problem) and said that the heat exchanger had been leaking for some time.

Also our “single pipe” system was out of date and would have to be upgraded.

What this means in English is that a new boiler will have to be fitted and the full system of pipes and radiators replaced.

As the Dark Lady returned from the dungeon (I think she had been to feed the last plumber who visited) he explained that he would need to alter some of her plumbing and inspect her flue.

I haven’t seen her since.

Apparently we will have to have something called a Condescending Boiler.

A shame really. The old boiler had been a bargain.

We bought it second hand from the council when they put new burners in the crematorium.

A really useful purchase, not only did it heat the mansion and provide endless hot water, there was room inside to have a hog-roast when we entertained.

The Dark Lord

(The only Goth in the Village)

Judgment Day

After months of hard work, germinating, propagating, nurturing, cultivating and in some corners CHEATING, the occasion finally arrived for Giant Pumpkin Judgment Day.

Admirable if not miraculous entries came from those some less than naturally green-fingered Regulars:
































And it was touching to see there was no degree of one-upmanship or glee between such a loving couple when Spudgirl's pumpkin weighed in ahead of her well-documented bad loser husband.



































After an agonising wait and with the aid of an impartial adjudicator the results came to bear.


Pumpkins

1. Tattoo - 29lb 4oz
2. Ol' Blue Eyes - 20lb 4oz
3. Spudgirl - 19lb 1oz
4. Tubthumper - 16lb 2oz
5. Billy Idle - 13lb
6. Gobby - 2lb 12oz

Despite her best attempts to make her entry look bigger by desperately thrusting it closer to the camera Gobby had to finally accept she was well and truly last.



















Whilst Tattoo proudly received his trophy in recognition of his efforts.


































However, a woman scorned and scheming, Gobby hatched a cunning plan for revenge and was sure that with her employment of an incognito getaway vehicle no one would ever suspect her of stealing the champion of champions.











Relenting in time for Halloween she saw fit, however, to render the winning entry into a form all the Regulars could enjoy seeming to earn Tattoo's forgiveness whilst the rest of the Regulars put their prize specimens to equally appropriate use:



























You have to admit, not a bad way to go.

THE END

A Moment of Weakness

When the Regulars reached their usual weekly update discussion slot on the latest developments in Gobby's progressive bladder weakness she decided to try to take evasive measures to avoid this week's ridicule and, on looking at the empty glasses on the table declared,

"I need a wee, should I go to the bar?"

To which Jordan encouragingly pointed out,

"I think most people would prefer it if you went to the toilet."


Under further scrutiny by her peers Gobby went to great lengths to explain that the unpleasant wet patches on her bed had been caused by a leaking hot water bottle and in no way contributed to by her own failings explaining,

"I squeezed it hard over the sink to check and a bit came out."

To which Tattoo added,

"And what about the bottle?"

Capacity

As Gobby wearily returned from another scintillating education conferenceTubthumper encoragingly tried to put a positive slant on her contribution to the proceedings declaring how impressed he had been to hear she had had:





"25 people in her slot."

Socialite

As the once utterly unapproachable Spudgirl integrated yet further into Barton (not to mention human) society she pointed excitedly in the direction of the window of the Local declaring how much she now recognised people around the town.

Jordan was quick to encourage this new-found skill agreeing,





"Yes, that's your husband."