Two words St. John - Lady frigging Grange - that's all I'm saying

St John (that's Aloysius St John von Pierce Bladder to you) has upped the ante. He's rigged up a crossbow on a hillock "over yonder" and started firing frozen fish fingers at us. That would be fine - save us obtaining our own - but, they seem to be smeared with a noxious substance, which we can't quite...

"It's keech," smirked Tuppence.

"It might be brown sauce," said Geoffrey hopefully.

"Keech." repeated Tuppence smugly. "I can smell it."

"All right!" I snapped. "But you don't have to look so pleased about it. Fetch the tarpaulin Geoffrey, and shut all the windows. If they come down the chimney, we'll just have to hope they burn up fast. Get some pegs as well. For our noses."

You see? St John has been behaving outrageously. Way beyond what is acceptable Hereabouts - even after a Friday lock-in.

So we're moving quickly vis a vis our Plan.

Two words St John - St. Kilda, and Lady frigging Grange. And WE'VE got a coracle. Okay that's more than two but -

Think on.

an unexpected holiday

Spockfingers threw himself on to the settee and promptly fell sound asleep. The snoring was so unbelievably loud that the walls and roof of the outcrop began to shake alarmingly. We decided we'd have to wake him up - no easy task - and instantly regretted it, because he then burst into song. Awful renditions of various "numbers" he remembered from T in the Park. We tried to find out how long he intended to stay with us, but he refused to say.
Eventually, we decided that if HE wasn't moving, WE would have to. So, we got out the old coracle, packed a few belongings and supplies into a couple of teachests and set off into the blue. We sculled and sculled with a following wind, past the time-space continuum anomaly, and the Infra Inn, and the Hulks, (now rusting and empty, thankfully - see last years posts if you want to know how we rescued all the poor sheep who were awaiting slaughter) until we cleared the headland of "Over There".
Eventually, we reached the archipelago of St Kilda, but the seas were against us and we had to scull away again through mountainous waves. After sailing through the night, we ended up at the old lighthouse on the Flannan Isles.
We're still there...