I changed my mind - I won't describe the blast produced by Mr Spockfingers after all. I've decided to err on the side of good taste - as usual. (Also, cannot be "arsed".) Suffice to say, it worked - but there was a ghastly mess to clean up, and can I also say that I won't be able to face cabbage for a very very long time ( not much of a hardship!). Readers will recall that the first plan mooted was to flood the tunnels with raw sewage - and we decided against, due to reasons of mess and concern that our supplies of madeira would be contaminated (unthinkable). Well, the Spockfingers option must have rivalled that unpleasant scenario, and we had to spend hours flushing the caves and tunnels out with buckets of pine scented Flash and hosing down the crates of madeira and korn bif. There's still a bit of a smell actually.
However, I think I can mention without fear of offending anyone much, that my announcement, a couple of posts back, of Cherry Fulmar's forthcoming "happy event" was a bit previous. Turns out that her "bulge" is due to an increasingly severe food addiction, to Fisher & Donaldson fudge doughnuts, scampi flavoured fries and Nik Naks to be precise. The Fisher & Donaldson aspect has already been taken out of her hands, as the local branch has closed down. There isn't another F & S outlet for more than 20 miles. This is a bit of a pain for me and Geoffrey as we too are partial to a fudge doughtnut - or "F.D." - not to mention their steak pies and coffee/chocolate towers. Gloom.
Stormy Petrel of course has a monopoly on scampi fries and Nik Naks, and the prices he charges for buying them over the bar are outrageous quite frankly. Cherry has become so desperate that she has resorted to burglary and is raiding his cellars at night - the poor thing - of course Geoffrey and I would never stoop to that kind of pathetic criminal-style behaviour ( see previous posts for total contradiction)
anyway - as if that wasn't bad enough, the ghastly cave-dwelling doom-merchant Dr Wilson has thought fit to poke his horrible self-righteous nose in and lecture poor Cherry about her spiralling obesity problem and the risk of diabetes, heart disease and stroke. Bad enough that he's been bad-mouthing me and Geoffrey about our fondness for madeira and tobacco. Irritatingly he always proclaims that he's making these pronouncements "for our own goods", but that won't wash. It's obvious he's just worried about having an increase in his own future workload - plus, there is a terrible unholy joy about him whenever he climbs up on his soapbox, which is rather alarming. Really he should be worried about whether or not he's going to get a punch in the face - not that anyone Hereabouts is violent like that, and not that I would personally recommend that very physical type of reaction, especially when Wilson is clearly unhinged.
But I do think that we should consider chucking him over the top ( see gazetteer and previous posts). Titus, the horse, did that last year (see previous posts) if you ask me he did us all a favour - it's just a shame that Wilson scrambled back up again. Another option would be to banish him to the time space anomaly zone. I intend to discuss that fully with Geoffrey and the Tupfinder over a extra large glass or two of madeira this very evening.
Geoffrey and I have decided to help Cherry in the best way we can - by planning a raid ourselves on Stormy's overstocked cellars, and obtaining for her as many cartons of Nik Naks and scampi fries as we can. We're also going to lobby Fisher and Donaldson to see if they will re-open a shop nearby, so we don't all wither away to scrawny shadows like SOME people we could mention, namely Wilson.
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