Tuesday, July 16, 2019

MISSING MAN FOUND SAFE AND WELL

A man who went missing last week has turned up safe and well.

Willy Standing, who left his home last Friday to buy a newspaper, was taken into Froghill Police Station at just after 8 this morning. He was covered in bird droppings, feathers and small animal bones but otherwise appeared to be in good shape.

“He was in a right old mess and he was a bit confused,” said Sergeant Harry Parsnip.

“So we cleaned him up as best we could and gave him a cup of tea, but he seemed to be having trouble getting it down.

"Then he sicked up a vole.”

Standing, 54, of Bessels Close, Cheetingham, later told police that he had been abducted by birds of prey while on his way to the newsagent.

He recounted how a pair of white-tailed eagles had swooped down and grasped him by the shoulders, lifting him off his feet and carrying him away.

They took him to their nest in an oak tree on Traubert’s Heath.

Once there, he was kept captive by the birds, who fed him beak to mouth and seemed intent on raising him as if he were their own chick.

Mr Standing was discovered early this morning by an ornithologist, who alerted the police after spotting a limp hand hanging out of the nest.

Rita Standing, told by the Observer of her husband’s ordeal, said: “Eagles? What again? 

"That's the third time in the last two years.”

Sunday, July 14, 2019

ROYAL PAYS LOCAL MAN A FLYING VISIT

An unexpected sight awaited Wythering resident Roy Barrowman as he opened the curtains yesterday morning. For there, smack in the middle of his front lawn, was a large chunk of metal with his name written across it.

“I’m pretty certain it wasn’t there when I went to bed on Friday night,” the retired sausage handler told the Observer, “because I’m sure I would have noticed it.

“So you can imagine my surprise when I looked out of the window to see this great grey thing with the letters ROY on it, sticking out of the front garden.

“Now I did think I heard a thud during the night,” he said, “but I put it down to a dream I was having about anvils.”

Unsure what to do about the situation, Roy phoned the police who, in turn, appealed to the Froghill Institute for Social History for assistance.

“It’s not really my area of expertise,” said FISH head Dr. Crispin Mortlake after an examination of the 10-by-16-foot metal sheet, “but judging by its thickness, colour and the presence of rivets, I would suggest that it’s a piece of a ship.

“Moreover, given that the three stenciled letters almost certainly form part of a longer word, I conclude that this is a fragment from the bow section of HMS Ark Royal.

“The depth to which it penetrated the soil suggests that it must have fallen from a considerable height,” Dr. Mortlake added.

“Mr. Barrowman is exceedingly lucky it didn’t land on his house.”

Asked what he intended to do with the huge and unexpected addition to his garden, the 79-year-old said he wasn’t yet sure.

“I’m not yet sure,” he said, “though I might turn it into a water feature. After all, it’s got my name on it and no-one else in the street has one.

“But that’s not my main worry at the moment,” said Roy, “because the cat didn’t come home yesterday and I can’t think where he might have got to.

“The last time I remember seeing him was the night before last, when he was out on the front lawn, playing with one of my old surgical supports.”

Thursday, July 11, 2019

USAIN BOLT SAVES WOMAN IN PANCAKE ORDEAL

A Swansdike woman is recovering in hospital today after a traumatic near-death experience with a pancake.

Evie Jemlettis, of Squinting Lane, was in the kitchen yesterday making pancakes, when a routine toss went badly wrong.

“I flipped the pancake into the air, just as I always do, but instead of falling back into the pan, it fell on me,” said Evie, from her hospital bed.

The pancake landed on her head, moulding itself instantly to her face and forming a hermetic seal over her nose and mouth. Unconsciousness followed and Evie fell to the ground, just minutes away from death by asphyxiation.

It was then that family pet Usain Bolt, who was in the kitchen with her, took the action that was to save her life.

“We named him Usain Bolt because he was always running everywhere as a puppy,” explained Evie’s husband Ted.

Seeing his mistress lying motionless on the floor, the doughty dachshund realised that something had gone terribly wrong.

“He rushed to the telephone in the hall, knocked the receiver off its cradle with his nose and then hit the speed dial button,” said Ted.

Exotica enthusiast Ted was in the garden shed, looking through some old magazines he’d collected as a teenager. Puzzled at receiving a call from home on his mobile, he answered immediately. 

“I could hear Usain barking on the other end and immediately knew that something was amiss,” the 43-year-old told the Observer.

“Luckily, one of the things they taught him at obedience school was to bark twice in response to the question: ‘Is this by any chance a pancake-related, life-threatening emergency?’

“So when he barked twice in quick succession, I was off down the garden faster than the real Usain Bolt!”

Emergency services were called and arrived within seconds, paramedics performing the Schwarzenegger Manoeuvre on Evie as she lay on the kitchen floor. Only just conscious, she was then rushed to the Anti-Batter Unit at Froghill General.

“It was touch and go there for a while,” said a grateful Ted, as he sat by his wife’s bedside, “Evie wouldn’t be here now had it not been for Usain’s quick-thinking.”

Asked whether she would ever be cooking pancakes for the family again, Evie smiled weakly and shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I think it’s time to admit that I’m a useless tosser.”

Monday, July 8, 2019

MISPRINT

Due to an editorial oversight, a misprint occurred in yesterday’s edition of the Observer. In a report from the Wythering Annual Flower Show, we stated that “the judges were favourably impressed by George Mackerel’s beautifully furled pink penis”. That should, of course, have read “beautifully furled pink peonies”. We apologise to Mr. Mackerel and his family for any offence caused.

Saturday, July 6, 2019

IT’S OFF TO THE MOON FOR THE GUINEA PIG GUINEA PIG

Durwood ‘Doc’ Pigeon, whose HydroVac 2000 vehicle desiccator is being trialled as we go to press, is hardly a man to rest on his laurels.

Work on his next – and easily most ambitious – project is already nearing completion.

“I’m going to send my pet guinea pig to the moon,” the jubilant inventor told the Observer yesterday.

“To the best of my knowledge, nobody’s ever attempted it before, so Lawrence will be a guinea pig in every sense of the word.

“The idea came to me after I successfully fired a Burmese cat across the Channel last year. It made a reasonably soft landing on a greenhouse roof and now lives with a family in Deauville.

“They write to me sometimes, but they tend to sound a bit resentful,” he added.

In preparation for the trip, Lawrence will be placed inside a Ziploc bag stuffed with vitamin-enriched hay. This will serve as both food and bedding during the voyage. Once he’s safely inside, the bag will be pumped full of oxygen and sealed.

With the bag secured, half a dozen cardboard tubes, each packed with a mix of gunpowder and barbecue briquettes, will be fitted into place around Lawrence’s body, using a large industrial elastic band.

“All six fuses will be lit simultaneously then, as they start fizzing, I’ll propel Lawrence into the air with the same catapult I used for the cat.

“As the force from the catapult is boosted by the ignition of the fuel, the whole thing should go critical and achieve escape velocity,” said Doc.

Once out in space, zero gravity conditions will cause the elastic band to slacken, allowing Lawrence to jettison the tubes by wriggling inside the bag. From then on, the 240,000-mile journey should take around two weeks.

“Lawrence has undergone rigorous mental and physical training to prepare for this,” said Doc, glancing affectionately at the impressively muscular rodent.

“Landing, in particular, will require him to exercise absolute discipline and split-second timing.”

By the time Lawrence begins his lunar descent, both oxygen and hay will be all but depleted, leaving little in reserve to absorb the impact. It is therefore crucial that he quickly creates a cushion of air around himself, to avoid a potentially fatal crash landing.

As the spacecraft enters the moon’s atmosphere, a small onboard cassette machine will click into play. The recorded instruction ‘Breathe! Breathe!’ will repeat at three-second intervals, prompting the cavy cosmonaut to massively increase his respiratory rate. His accelerated exhalations should fully inflate the bag and allow him to make a soft landing.

“I trained him inside a beach ball, connected to the hose of an old cylinder vacuum cleaner I’d found in the loft,” explained Doc. “As I shouted the command to breathe, I’d turn on the cleaner and suck the oxygen out of the ball.

“When I was satisfied that he was exhaling at maximum rate, I would throw the ball down onto a mattress, to simulate the bump of landing in the Sea of Tranquility.

“We’ve done everything we can and he’s 100% flight-ready. The only thing now is to wait until the beginning of the next lunar cycle, so the moon will be full when he arrives.

“That way, he should have the maximum surface area to aim for.”

When asked by the Observer how Lawrence would be getting back to Earth, Doc stopped speaking for a moment and looked pensive.

“Do you know, I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted.

“But Lawrence is a resourceful little chap – he's bound to come up with something.”

Wednesday, July 3, 2019

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Sir, 

Two weeks ago, I found a pair of kidneys while visiting the Ladies’ in Everdene Road. They were lying on the floor in one of the cubicles. I imagine their owner must have had an unusually explosive evacuation and then forgotten to reinsert them before leaving.

Having no hormonal teenage sons to worry about, I took the kidneys home and put them in a jam jar. I have set a piece of steak beside them, as I understand the two go quite well together.

Concerned for their owner, I contacted Froghill police. They informed me that although they’d received reports of a pair of mislaid ears in a cornfield and a spleen in a vent at the Buried Treasures Funeral Directors, nobody had reported losing any kidneys.

If you mislaid your kidneys around the middle of last month, please contact me, as I'm sure life without them must be really quite ‘offal’. My email address is katy@frogmail.com.

Yours faithfully,

Kate N. Sydney-Pye,

Swansdike

Monday, July 1, 2019

NO IFS AND A BUTT - CORPORAL IN PEAK CONDITION

A Cheetingham man is to make a solo ascent of Everest for charity later this month.

Corporal Kevin Baldock, 27, of the Royal Tank Regiment, will attempt to scale the 29,000-foot peak on a pair of aluminium stilts. He will be raising money for The Woebegone Aspect Trust (TWAT), an organisation offering cosmetic surgery to bulldogs with self-esteem issues.

As regular readers will know, Cpl. Baldock is no stranger to feats of derring-do. Earlier this year, he successfully crossed the Sahara dressed as Donald Duck, in support of a charity promoting education at gunpoint. In May of last year, he swam the English Channel in a suit of armour, with all proceeds going to The Donkey Sanctuary.

Sponsorship will be provided by Wythering nursery Ladie Garden, which has presented Cpl. Baldock with a 210-litre plastic water butt, bearing the slogan: ‘Ladie Garden – come and see what we’ve got in our furrow’.

Nursery proprietor Sadie Ladie told the Observer: “I read about Kevin’s last exploit in your pages and was very impressed by his sense of originality.

“We're more than proud to sponsor him. He’s promised to plant one of our seedlings when he reaches the summit, to commemorate the event.” 

Asked how he saw himself coping with the sub-zero conditions on Everest’s slopes, the courageous corporal answered: “The stilts I’m using are over four metres long and should elevate me above the surface of the snow so, hopefully, frostbite won’t be a problem.

“Obviously, wearing the water butt is going to hamper my movements a bit. But, on the plus side, I hit upon the idea of packing it with the thermal cladding from my Mum’s immersion heater.

“So that ought to keep me warm when the going gets chilly.”