MAN PIE-EYED IN TOILET

Froghill Constabulary is appealing for information following an unprovoked assault in a public toilet. The incident took place yesterday afternoon in the Everdene Road conveniences.

“We’re appealing for anyone who was in the vicinity to get in contact with the police,” said D.I. Alan ‘The Hammer’ Hardman.

The victim, who cannot be named for fear of workplace derision, entered the conveniences at around 5.30pm and locked himself into one of the cubicles. As he was sitting down, a candy-striped cane appeared from over the top of the dividing wall.

The handle encircled the victim’s neck and yanked him up onto his feet. A white-gloved hand then pushed a custard pie into his face.

Though reportedly complaining of a pain in the neck, the man was otherwise uninjured in the attack.

Police are not ruling out a connection between this and the four dessert-related incidents earlier this month.

“We are treating the incidents as potentially related,” said D.I. Hardman.

“Whoever is doing this and for whatever reason, I’m determined to get to the bottom of it – I will not tolerate jerking and mess in Froghill’s public toilets. Not unless I’m watching.”

As the significance of his words dawned upon him, the Inspector coughed and added: “I meant, not on my watch.”

He then informed us that the interview was over, turned on his heel and walked away.

SHAMPOO WOMAN IN HEAD EXPANSION SHOCK

A woman is in hospital today after a mishap which caused her head to swell to over fifteen times its usual size.

Megan Merkel, of Kidneystone Lane, was in the shower when the unfortunate event took place. 

“I’d bought some Schmaltzkopf ‘Maxilox’ volumising shampoo,” said Ms. Merkel, speaking with difficulty from her hospital bed, “and I was using it for the first time. I decided to wash my face with it as well as my hair, to save time.”

To Ms. Merkel’s distress, within a few minutes of rinsing off the lather, her head began to swell alarmingly.

“It seems that this particular brand of shampoo volumises everything it comes into contact with,” said paramedic Andy Bolton, who attended Ms. Merkel at the scene.

“We received a panicked call from someone saying please come quickly because their head was expanding. At first, we thought it was just a stoned Pink Floyd fan, but the person on the other end did seem to be in genuine distress.”

By the time the ambulance arrived, Ms. Merkel’s head was several times larger than normal and still increasing in size.

“I’d never seen anything like it in all my years as a paramedic,” said Mr. Bolton, “her head was literally growing as we watched.

“If she’d stuck her finger in her ear, she would have looked like one of those old-fashioned petrol pumps.

“Getting her to the hospital wasn’t easy. Her head had become so big, it wouldn’t fit into the ambulance.

“We had to strap her to a gurney and then wedge that halfway in and halfway out of the vehicle. We drove to the hospital with the back door open and her head sticking out.

“Unfortunately, we had no way to secure the door and it kept bashing her on the top of her skull.”

After 15 minutes of repeated banging, which resulted in a painfully growing lump on top of an already swelling head, the ambulance arrived at Froghill General, where Ms. Merkel was rushed into the Cranial Inflation Unit.

“It was touch and go there for a while,” said chief surgeon Dr. Nathan Toploder, “before we could operate, we had to blow a hole in the wall with Semtex so she could fit into theatre.  

“We performed a Parietal Puncture, which involves perforating the head at several key points with a hammer and a six-inch nail. We then inserted drinking straws into the apertures to allow the extra volume to escape.

“She’ll spend the next few days looking like the O2 Arena but, on the plus side, the straws are the bendy type, so she can arrange the tips to suit her mood.

“We’re confident that Ms. Merkel will make a full and complete recovery,” he added, before turning so that his heels squeaked on the lino.

Have you had an amusing or unusual experience with expanding body parts? Then why not share your story with our readers? Email your risible attempts at prose composition to  www.froghillobserver.co.uk/minesbiggerthanyours or call our Joseph Merrickline on 0372 55055. Calls cost £372 per minute, standard rate.

DOGGED BY MISFORTUNE AS PILOT GOES BARKING MAD

Leafy local favourite Henry’s hopes of a glittering TV career were dashed last night as his chat show pilot ended in chaos and humiliation. 

Readers may recall that Henry, an educated and articulate English Lavender, was the unlikely winner of a Froghill pub quiz last May. Wythering resident and TV celebrity Barrie Nesbit then took a personal interest (Observer, June 3rd) and successfully negotiated a try-out for Henry on BBC TV.

Chatting Around The Bush, which aired on BBC1 at 11pm yesterday, should have secured Henry a role as the world’s only herbaceous host.

Unfortunately, in the first of many setbacks, we learned that all but one of the show’s scheduled guests had pulled out.  

Actor/director Phoebe Waller-Bridge sent her apologies, citing filming commitments, while boxer Anthony Joshua excused himself on health grounds and Nigel Farage, who was to have performed a novelty balloon bending act, claimed that he was unavoidably being photographed having a pint.

Still game however was Melvin Sadman, aka Crazy Frog tribute act Spawn Again. Mr. Sadman, somewhat unwisely in this reporter’s opinion, opened the show with a performance of his 2005 smash Axel F before debuting his new release, Axel F. He followed up with an instrumental version of his worldwide hit Axel F, which he rendered on a pair of spoons.

A notably lukewarm response from the studio audience had a visibly unsettling effect on Henry, who stumbled while introducing the first of his last-minute guests.

Fresh from a summer season at the Benbecula Rialto, hypnotist Mickie Mindwarp duly took his place on the couch. What followed was a dull and stilted interview, in which a nervous Henry fluffed his lines on no less than three occasions.

It was a genuine relief to audience and viewer alike when Mr. Mindwarp got up to demonstrate the highlights of his act.

Putting the audience ‘under’ with a click of his fingers, he bade the female members get down on all fours and imitate the barking of a Jack Russell terrier. The men he commanded to stand up, drop their trousers and sing The Only Way Is Up as they simultaneously experienced involuntary erections.

Amid the cacophony of yapping and yelling, the unctuous performer then counted down from six to zero and brought the audience ‘back into the room’, much to the embarrassed amusement of all concerned.

Next onto the couch was our own Barrie Nesbit, there to offer Henry support in the face of so many high-profile cancellations. The ensuing chat was smooth, natural and entertaining, with seasoned professional Barrie smiling, cracking jokes and putting his potted host at ease.

By 11.20, it looked as if the tide might finally be turning in Henry’s favour.

Next up was novelty dog act Alsatian Sensations. Under the eagle eye of trainer Jim Gold, the German Shepherds bounded into their act, playing on see-saws, jumping through hoops, building a matchstick model of Tower Bridge and barking the soliloquy from Hamlet.

However, the events of the next few minutes were to ensure that the hapless Henry is unlikely ever to grace our TV screens again.

The highlight of Alsatian Sensations’ act was a pyramid formation piece, with the animals balanced on the shoulders of an RAF motorcycle stunt rider.

As the pyramid described figures of eight across the stage, a shrill, high-pitched yapping suddenly erupted from the audience. The cameras swung round to find a woman in the back row, still on her hands and knees, barking for all she was worth.

Realising what must have happened, the quick-thinking Mindwarp jumped to his feet and counted quickly down from six to zero. Yet to his obvious dismay, it had no effect whatsoever and the still-hypnotised woman continued barking with gusto.

Now distracted by the noise, several of the Alsatians began to howl, wriggling and kicking to break free of the pyramid. Their beleaguered rider, desperately struggling to control his machine, snagged his front wheel on a camera cable. An audible gasp of disbelief went up as man, motorcycle and 25 dogs teetered dangerously before toppling sideways onto the studio floor.

Most of the Alsatians hit the ground running and made a beeline for the barking woman. Confronted with twenty or more maddened canines heading their way, the audience panicked and scrambled for the exits. The entire studio emptied in a matter of seconds.

By 11.30, all that remained of the erudite shrub’s shot at the big time was a failed hypnotist, a barking woman, an unconscious stunt rider and Barrie Nesbit, red-faced and swearing, fighting a snarling Alsatian for possession of his toupé.

As the director cut the programme and the credits rolled, the camera zoomed in hard on a forlorn and fallen Henry, branches bent and leaves awry, sobbing quietly in a pool where one of the dogs had cocked its leg against him.

CLARIFICATION

Due to an editorial oversight, a potential source of confusion occurred in yesterday’s edition of the Observer. In an opinion piece entitled Fetch The Wet Wipes, The Chosen One Is Coming Again, we described one D.J. Trump, as “behaving like a petulant toddler who throws his toys out of the cot if he doesn’t get his own way”. We wish to make it clear that we were referring to Donald James Trump, a self-employed stoat meddler of Pound Lane, Cheetingham, and not to Donald John Trump, 45th president of the United States of America. 

PROOF OF THE PUDDING BUT NO ARRESTS YET

Froghill Constabulary are appealing for information following a series of attacks involving popular desserts over the last few days.

Police are investigating four separate incidents, possibly related, of confectionery assault in Froghill and Wythering.

Two of the incidents occurred last Saturday. In the first, a man taking a photograph of Wythering Pond on his mobile was grabbed from behind. The waistband of his trousers was pulled forward and an entire blancmange deposited inside. Then a gloved hand rubbed even more blancmange into his face. When the man finally managed to clear his eyes, his assailant had vanished.

Later that day, a woman was covered with Raspberry Pavlova in Wythering High Street. Though unable to say for certain, she believes the projectile to have been launched from a yellow and red car which passed her as she was walking.

On Sunday, at around 6pm, a teenager was knocked unconscious by what turned out to be a large Spotted Dick while out walking his dog on Froghill Common.

Then yesterday afternoon, a young woman waiting to cross the road in St. Alfege Street became the target of another projectile dessert, this time one involving jelly, sponge, cream, custard, soft fruit and sherry.

None of the four victims was seriously injured, though the young man in the Spotted Dick incident reports feeling a little stiff and yesterday’s victim complains of impaired hearing.

Contacted by the Observer, Detective Inspector Alan ‘The Hammer’ Hardman said: "At this juncture, we are unable to name the victims as our investigations are ongoing.

"However, it is vital we speak to anyone else who may have been in the vicinity when each of the attacks took place.

“This is particularly important in regard to yesterday’s attack as the woman in question is still a trifle deaf.”

Anyone with information on any of the incidents should contact Froghill Police on 0372 51111. Calls may be recorded for re-broadcast purposes.

THE CLASSIFIEDS

FOR SALE

Complete Dinner Set. Floral pattern with inset scenes of Dutch slaughterhouses. £25. Delft Lundgren, 0163 66491.

Jumbo Jigsaw Puzzle, depicting English country cottage with thatched roof. Most pieces missing, hence low price of £750. Nick Knax, 0372 55173.

Memory stick. Nine inches long, no bushy outgrowths. Remembers everything between the years 1990 and 2019. A must for your next party. £140. Phone 0159 2821, ask for Twiggy.

Brexit helmet. Hard. Protects you and your family, come what may. Made in the UK. £39 billion, ono. Deal? B. Johnson, London, SW1A 2AA.

Anaconda. 20ft long, answers to the name of Fluffy. Very affectionate - loves nothing better than to curl up with you. Good with children. Free to a caring home. Call in at Rayling’s Farm. 

Erotickle Deluxe condom. Pork chop flavour, no stress marks. Used once only. £120. Prof. E. Lactik, 0372 52671.

Assorted Wigs. Side-parted, mousy colour. Also Donald Duck costume, full body coverage, includes hat and webbed feet. Some posterior staining. E. John, Windsor, Berkshire (for directions, ask at the Carpenter’s Arms in Market Street).

Nut, Screws, Washer and Bolts. Would suit mechanic or tabloid journalist covering story of lunatic having sex in a laundry and then running away. A. Hack, 0165 8257.

Teach Yourself Amputation. Easy to follow surgical instruction manual. Many colour illustrations. Wipe clean cover, laminated pages. Miss N. Lim, 0372 59146, after 6pm.

50 Pence Piece. Heptagonal. Found on bus. Offers? R.G. Bargie, 0163 7136.

Offal. 10 tons, mainly lungs, some kidneys. Unwanted birthday gift. £600 or would consider exchange for holiday villa in Rimini. 0161 4082, ask for Macaroni Jim.

Toothbrush. Pink, angled head, medium hard bristle. Made in 2011. One careful owner. £1.50. Ruth D. Kaye, 0372 51471.

Little Rocket Man Glove Puppet. Grey uniform, silly haircut, chubby cheeks. Face lights up as you insert your hand. D. Trump, Box 1, USA.

SERVICES

Uncle Henry. Children’s entertainer. Balloon sculpture, rotating balls, hands-free levitation trick – televised. 0161 4321.

Wash and Brush Up. How far up? You decide! Complete service includes soap, towels, brush, baby oil, clamps and safeword. Arsène Dopen 0372 57520.

FIN-TASTIC FUN AT THE MEADOWS

The Meadows Shopping Centre is hosting a marine extravangaza which is sure to put some ‘bite’ into the summer holidays.

The free event, part-sponsored by the Wythering Animal Rehabilitation Trust (WART), gives children the chance to get up close and personal with four sharks, while learning about their lives and the joys of playing with them.

Melvin Thrasher, director of The Meadows, said: “Sharks have had such bad press over the last few decades. We’re trying to do our bit to change the perception of these animals as little more than evil predators.

“After the success of last summer’s week-long Fun With Acid event, we’ve put together a package of enjoyable and informative activities that will impress both kids and grown-ups alike.”

For the duration of the event, the atrium at the Meadows has been given over to a 200-square-foot seawater pool which will serve as temporary home to a Bull shark, a Tiger shark, a Great White and an Oceanic White Tip.

Suitable for children aged five to 12 years old, activities include petting the sharks, swimming with them and feeding them by hand. Event organisers hope that by doing so, youngsters will learn something about the animals’ playful nature, their eating habits and their sexual preferences.

“Trained paramedics will be on hand at all times, just in case,” said Mr. Thrasher, “though obviously, we don’t anticipate the need to call on them.”

The event runs until next Friday, August 23rd.

Free tickets for Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Shark? can be booked on The Meadows’ website. Log onto www.meadows.co.uk/sharksarereallycuddly.

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Sir,

My wife Daphne was out walking on Friday afternoon when a highly regrettable incident occurred. Passing one of the many bushes on Froghill Common, she became aware of growling noises emanating from underneath. Suddenly and without warning, two wild-eyed and slavering hamsters broke cover and charged directly at her.

Fortunately, in her youth, Daphne was an enthusiastic member of the Froghill and District Runner Beings and still boasts quite a turn of speed, even now.

On this occasion, she was able to get her head down and sprint for the nearest tree which, as a former member of the Froghill and District Sycamore Scalers, she was able to climb with ease. She then hid in the branches until the rapacious rodents got bored and went off in search of other prey.

However, the matter does not end there.

Later that evening, we received a telephone call from someone identifying himself only as ‘Mac’. While admitting that the animals belonged to him, the rascal had the temerity to insist that, had my wife not been wearing a headscarf with a horseshoe motif, the whole thing might never have happened.

Her assailants, it appears, were a pair of Patagonian Pit Bull Hamsters which, due to centuries of restrictive breeding practices, have pea-sized brains closely resembling those of alligators. This makes them pathologically aggressive, particularly when exposed to artifacts featuring prominent equestrian designs.

In light of this event, I strongly urge Froghill Constabulary to declare a two-week amnesty on all attack rodents registered in the local area. Once handed in, animals should be referred to the Wythering Animal Rehabilitation Trust to have their teeth extracted and foam rubber replacements fitted. 

As a further precautionary measure, a time-release reservoir of liquid horse tranquiliser should be surgically inserted into each animal's skull.

That way, perhaps ordinary people will be able to go out for an afternoon walk without running the risk of an alarming and potentially dangerous encounter.

Yours faithfully,

Maj. Redfers Nuthatch (ret'd)

FLYING PANTS IN ROLLING STONE POND FILL BONUS

A homeowner is elated, a couple estranged, a dog extruded and a man hospitalised today following a freak underwear event which occurred early Monday evening.

Darren Squire, 36, was driving along Wythering High Street at around 7pm when a pair of pants landed on the windscreen of his car.

“I was driving along, listening to Classic FM, when suddenly these pants landed right in front of my eyes,” said Mr. Squire, “I turned on the wipers to try and dislodge them, but they got snagged up and kept going back and forth across the screen.

“They had a picture of a cockerel on them, looking all provocative and flexing his biceps. Watching a cock go from side to side is really hypnotic and before I knew what was happening, I was moving in time with it.”

This vigorous side-to-side motion caused Mr. Squire to hit his head against the side window, the impact knocking him senseless.

Mounting the pavement, his car careened into bespoke bakery All You Need Is Loaf, shattering its front window and toppling the eight-tier wedding cake display behind. The top tier broke off, flying over the car roof and across the High Street.

Seated at a table outside chic bistro Le Pétomane, newly engaged 27-year-old Colin Snape and 25-year-old Deborah Willoughby were sharing a bottle of Prosecco.

“We had just clinked glasses when a little plastic model of a bride and groom landed in my drink,” said Colin. “I was just saying to Debs how it had to be a good omen when a great big wedge of cake landed smack in her face.

“Well, I couldn’t help laughing - coming out of nowhere like that, it was just so funny.”

His fiancée, however, did not seem to appreciate the joke and responded by punching her beau hard on the nose and then storming off.

As Colin desperately called after the retreating Debbie, the cake’s bottom tier, made not of sponge but of solid sandstone painted white, trundled out of the gaping space where the window had so recently been.

Glancing off several parked cars as it went, the 80-pound circular disc steadily gathered speed as it wobbled off down the High Street.

Unaware of this recent turn of events, Marjorie Layne, a self-employed Stilton tattooist and amateur duck puzzler, was approaching from the opposite direction with her dog, Benno.

Readers of this paper may recall that Benno, a pedigree Bavarian Homing Dachshund, was tragically stretched to ten feet in length, following a near-fatal encounter with the ‘Ghost Cow’ last spring (Observer, March 8).

“Walkies are a real event these days,” Ms. Layne told the Observer, “as it takes about fifteen seconds for information to travel from his brain down to his back legs. His front legs waddle forward, we wait fifteen seconds and then his back legs start to catch up.  

“It’s like walking a dog-shaped concertina.”

It was during one of these fifteen-second pauses that the bottom tier, now travelling at speeds in excess of 45 miles per hour, rounded the corner in front of the hapless pair.

“There was no time to react,” said a tearful Ms. Layne, “I just watched in disbelief as Benno let out a squeal before being squished by this huge white stone.”

Thanks to the prompt action of a passer-by, emergency services were on the scene in a matter of minutes and Benno was rushed to the Wythering Animal Rehabilitation Trust (WART), where he is currently recovering from his ordeal.

“The weight of the stone produced an effect similar to that of a rolling pin on a ball of dough,” said Chief Veterinary Surgeon, Dr. Mortimer Pluck. “Consequently, in addition to being ten feet long, it’s highly likely that Benno will be no more than half a centimetre high for the rest of his life.

“However, every cloud has a silver lining. Should she suddenly require extra space around the house, Ms. Layne will now be able to roll him up and store him in a cupboard.”

After devastating half a dozen flowerbeds and a plastic cloche full of marijuana plants, the maverick stone finally came to rest in an ornamental pond about half a mile down the road.

“I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw it,” said delighted homeowner Britney Braddock, “I’ve been meaning to have that pond filled in for ages. The guinea pig has a habit of falling in and he always comes out confused and smelling of weed.

“So imagine my surprise when I looked outside on Tuesday morning and found it had been neatly plugged with a stone disc.

“I don’t know who put it there, but it fits perfectly, so I’d like to thank whoever it was for saving me the bother.”

At the time of going to press, Ms. Braddock has decorated her pond with a string of fairy lights, Deborah has broken off the engagement, Benno is being held in place by a double-looped elastic band and Darren Squire is receiving treatment in the Underwear Trauma Unit at Froghill General.

WHEN THE TALKING JUST HAS TO STOP

Froghill’s most decorated man has a long day ahead of him tomorrow.

For while everyone else is going about their business, Vince Crotchett, of Traubert’s Heath, will be having laser surgery to remove every one of his 278 tattoos.

“Vince will be my one and only customer tomorrow,” said Ken Dudd, proprietor of the Tatty Bye ink removal clinic in Dial Street, “it’s going to be an all-day job.”

Mr. Crotchett, a freelance potato trainer who got his first tattoo at the age of three, decided on the drastic course of action after his body art began talking out loud.

“It started about a year ago,” recalled the 56-year-old, “I woke up from a dream about birds singing to realise that the noise was actually happening in the room.”

A brief investigation revealed that the sound was coming from a tattoo of two swallows on his right forearm. It continued for about five minutes before stopping of its own accord.

“At the time, I didn’t think too much of it,” he said, “I’d had quite a heavy night with the lads down the pub and I just put it down to that.”

It became apparent that something genuinely unusual was going on a few weeks later, when Mr. Crotchett was travelling on a London tube train.

“I’d gone up to town and I was on the Bakerloo Line, when suddenly this voice said: ‘Vincent, stop picking your nose! Use your handkerchief’. It was my Mum. I have her name tattooed just above the swallows.

“And it didn’t stop there. She started complaining in a loud voice about muddy footprints on the hall carpet. She went on and on about it. People in the carriage were staring at me, I didn’t know where to look.”

The next incident occurred in a Froghill clothes shop. Mr. Crotchett was in the fitting room, trying on some reinforced ‘Maxihold’ underwear, when his Celtic Love Knot yelled out: ‘It’s too tight, it’s too tight, I can’t breathe,’ prompting a shop assistant to come and ask if he needed help.

The final straw came during the Froghill Youth Orchestra’s performance of The Rammstein Variations at the Assembly Rooms last month. The concert, conducted by Simon Rattle, CBE, was a sell-out, with live coverage on a big screen set up on Froghill Common.

“The orchestra had finished tuning up and the audience went quiet. Then Simon Rattle walked out onto the stage and took a bow,” said Mr. Crotchett, with a shudder.

“In the moment before the applause started, this Yorkshire voice announced: ‘Ladies and Gentlemen…Mr. Billy Connolly’. Everybody heard it.

“It was the image of Michael Parkinson I have on my left buttock. I mean, I’ve heard of talking out of your arse but this is ridiculous!

“Anyway, all hell broke loose. People were up on their feet, booing and hissing and throwing their tubs of ice cream around. The woman in the next seat hit me around the head with her shoe.

“Simon Rattle just glared at me from under his curls and then walked off. He only came back onstage because he was enticed with a cup of tea and a plate of Hobnobs.”

It was then that Mr. Crotchett decided that the tattoos had to go. Asked by the Observer whether he would miss them, he replied: “Yes, of course. I mean, it’s like having your leg off.

“But once the tattoos are gone, I think I’ll get both cheeks pierced. That way, I’ll be able to go up onto Traubert’s Hill and play tunes when the wind is in the right direction.”

MISPRINT

Due to an editorial oversight, a misprint occurred in last week’s edition of the Observer. In an article entitled Noodle Man in Rust Bucket Epiphany, we stated that Benji Sloane, of Helvetica Close, Cheetingham, “underwent several hours of fisting in preparation for his blood test”. That should, of course, have read “several hours of fasting”. We apologise to Mr. Sloane and his family for any offence caused.