My three hour snorbing session along the River Severn Bore had been larruping good fun, until I began to turn green and feel distinctly shipwrecky as I was trajected back and forth fifteen tmes in rapid succession, my half-digested breakfast of sausage, egg, beans, mushrooms, and toast-with-loganberry-jam making an unwelcome re-appearance as it was deep-sixed from my larger intestine in a noisome eruption worthy of Mount Vesuvius.
'The welkin becomes nubilous betimes my child,' said the wise old sage, his long grey beard wagging as he nodded his long grey head, ' and 'tis not to be treated with levity lest trouble become of it,' he added as, gazing welkin-ward and before I could warn him he stepped off the cliff edge and with a cry of 'I told you so-o-o-o!' vanished from my sight; whereupon I turned tail and went home, lesson learned.
Once upon a time, as ye goode shippe Pumpkin kedged her way into the harbour her hapless crew-- in a sorry state of dishabille after a night of debauched revelry imbibing a seemingly innocuously baccate brew of a revolting purple hue--all decided as one man to leap onto the jetty, which, unbeknownst to them, had been moved six feet to starboard, resulting in their missing their target and landing with a sickening collective thud headfirst against the harbour wall; the resulting tremor giving rise to the first-ever tsunami, that much sought -after word by Scrabble players the world over.
Old Dr Quelchling auscultated my innards as thoroughly as one would have thought possible, considering the age and condition of his stethoscope, but nevertheless his diagnosis of: " something's not quite right in there" was surely rather nebulous, to say the very least; but to be fair to the poor chap, unbeknownst to him I had recently over-indulged in my favourite treats of steak-and-kidney pie and chips, followed by chocolate digestive biscuits and jam roly-poly pudding; then a larger than average chunk of cheddar cheese; two packets of crisps and a boiled turnip, leaving my aforementioned hapless innards chockablock with half-digested food, the penetration of which noxious sludge would have defeated even the best state-of-the-art space technology, as featured on "Star Trek: To Boldly Go Where No-One Dared Go Before.”
Lord Thomas Townberry had hitherto lived a sardanapalian existence within his country manor, never once considering the impoverished tenants living on his estate, who had long perdured the harshest of working conditions: toiling for seven days a week for a pittance, with only two days holiday a year, no sick pay and only the occasional dry crumpet at tea – time, which inevitably led to the day when the cry went up : ‘M’Lord, the peasants are revolting!’ as two hundred aggrieved yokels stormed the manor house waving pitchforks , manglewurzels and odoriferous damp socks, but the decision on his fate was held in abeyance whilst they argued long into the night on the relative merits of dispatching His Lordship by relieving him of his balding pate, or whether to adopt the gentler Hindu doctrine of ahsima and let him be; but just as they were agreeing to the former His Lordship escaped through a secret tunnel built for just such an eventuality, and ran away, cackling manically, never to be seen again, though rumour has it that today his ghost can be seen wandering around the estate at full moon, clad only in a nightshirt and munching on a hot buttered crumpet.
Not for nothing was Rupert known as "The Windy Old Goat", for, with his relentless pursuit of women with his ventose chat-up lines which made it abundently clear that he had only one thing on his mind he was the epitome of mindless lust; however for his hapless "prey" there was a silver lining: a long, thoughtful stare below the belt and a pitying remark about the size of his "family jewels" along the lines of "I bet you get plenty of those to the pound", acted as the perfect antaphrodisiac.
'It may betide one day, perhaps this day, that you will find the silver lining that you seek in the clouds of uncertainty, doubt, despair and ill-fortune that pervade your life my child,' said the wise old Inca guide as we sat in the giant condor's eyrie together; which was all very well, but what I really needed at that point was to find a way of escaping from this noisome eyrie, having been captured by the giant condor on the very first day of my trekking adventure in the Andes: a prime example of ill-fortune if ever there was one.
'Please excuse me for belabouring the point mate ( and for throwing in that "u" as, being English, the word looks incomplete to me without it) ,' said Fred Swigglehorn, boniface of Ashby de la Zouche's finest and oldest inn, "The Old Grey Strumpet", to the American tourist who was listening to him somewhat sceptically, ' but I insist that there was once a copperplate-engraved plaque above this doorway here declaring that "Queen Elizabeth I slept here", until a cloudburst of apocalyptic proportions swept both plaque and door away in a raging torrent in the Great Storm of 1987, when they eventually crossed the Channel and ended up in France where they now grace the entrance of a rather seedy bistro; and in the name of History I am calling upon your generous nature in the hope that you will contribute to my restoration Fund, standing, alas, at a mere two quid at present.'
Upon the harsh torrid plains ‘neath the Childressean mountain range two yak herders were able to forget the adversities of their lives by embroiling themselves in a pother over which yak deserved to win the annual yak race trophy, but as their arguments lacked the necessary casuistry required for such a debate it would invariably end in an unseemly brawl, providing much amusement for the watching yaks as they both landed with a loud squelch- -legs in the air--in a pile of rich, putrid yak dung which had been fermenting nicely for many years; the rising steam from which could be observed from space.
The notorious highwayman Dick Turpin bestrode his equally notorious horse Black Bess, as he secreted himself in the bushes beside a rough track in Epping Forest, awaiting the arrival of a carriage in which he hoped his next victim would be ensconced; but he had reckoned without the presence of an undercover fencing expert, Lord Crumpington De Ville, disguised as a lady, who sprang from from the carriage with a cry of 'Touche!' piercing Turpin's doublet and divesting him of all his stolen jewellery and gold, and it is recounted in old lore that it was the shock of encountering a transvestite swordsman that "did" for him, as he died on the spot from a heart attack, and his ghost still wanders around the forest, muttering: ' But 'twas a woman, I swear 'twas a woman,' and generally getting on everyone's nerves.
Mrs Carolinda Townbottom had spent a blissful afternoon preparing a kitchen supper of bacon and mushrooms with crusty farmhouse bread to be served with Yorkshire tea in the littoral setting of East Pond when, just as she had laid the picnic table there came the familiar and dread cry of ‘Touche!’ as the now infamous Fezzik the fantastic flying talking squirrel appeared from out of a seemingly empty landscape to land with a crash in the midst of the platter of food, obliterating not only the supper, but--most heinous crime of all—also upsetting the tea all over her new frock, and ‘tis said that the poor woman has never recovered from the shock; taking refuge in a ruined castle where she spends her days composing vitriolic and threatening letters to the Flying Squirrel Preservation Society, for which she has appeared in Court several times.
One fine evening last April I was sitting in my bedroom noshing on a platterful of hot buttered crumpets ( as is my wont) when with a cry of ‘Touche!' Fezzik the fantastic flying talking squirrel stretched out his patagia, leaped from the oak tree; glided through the open window and landed with inimitable grace upon the floordrobe of my bedroom, causing my clothes to erupt ceiling-wards then tumble down in a glorious cascade of multifarious colour, thus earning himself one hundred points for skill, and my ire for interrupting my meal and ruining my meticulously and artistically arranged garments.
It takes a gregarious person to enjoy taking part in mass nude Morris dancing on top of a windswept bluff, and I will confess to being such a person, and acknowledge that when performing I bear the agnomen "Georgina the Goosepimple", as recorded on the capias issued for my arrest for "Indecent exposure and lewd behaviour in a public place", for which, Your Honour, I plead an emphatic "not guilty," for my performance was done in the name of Art and was, you must surely agree, most tastefully executed.
The babel fish is known for its macaronic skills, which amongst a veritable bonanza of gifts were bestowed upon it by the great, and extremely vain, ungulate god Sidney the Centaur, who in days of old roamed this fair land, with rings on his fingers; garlands around his neck; and a bell dangling from each tragus to warn of his approach.
Ye goode shippe Saint Dufus's unheralded arrival in the Doldrums brought an air of listlessness and ennui into the hearts of the crew, which was, thankfully, alleviated by the bestowing upon them by the passengers cumshaws of gold coins, bottles of rum; pink spotted bandanas and the latest digitally re-mastered DVD of "Pirates of the Caribbean"; the script of which they had learned by heart whilst swabbing the decks and splicing the mainbrace.
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