RAY THE DUST IN CONVERSO OUTRAGE

 RAY THE DUST IN CONVERSO OUTRAGE

Recently uncovered documents from the early century allegedly appear to confirm that Ray the Dust, sometimes known as El Raymondo, is a "Converso", and not a pure member of the brethren that established the Duck Flat Cap Society. 

His hidden ancestry has only come to light after a search of the Vatican library by undercover agents working in a joint venture for the Catalan secret police and the North Neasden gazette.

The documents allegedly clearly show that the Dusts early family were of Jewish extraction and in the 12th century were located in the Extremadura region of Spain.

 Having moved to the state of Aragon to escape persecution, the documents allegedly indicate that the family converted to Catholicism to settle in with the community, and obtain work. The archives of the Duck Flat Cap Society allegedly indicate that his heritage had been uncovered by Driver Chard, but his allegations had been mothballed due to a lake of creditable evidence.

 Speaking on the subject at a recent meeting, Bazzer The Gravedigger contributed to the debate by confessing that he had heard Ray the Dust speak in tongues, which after reflection he believes may have been Yiddish Spanish. This was backed up by testimony from Pepe Le Puke who also confirms that unintelligible mumbles emanating from the Dusts lips whilst asleep, may be pigeon Hebrew or some form of Yiddish creole. However, it was expressly proposed by Chelsea Dave Duck and Basher Hurley that theses gibberish mutterings were no more than drunken babble induced by an abundance of the fermented grape, grain and hop.   

To be continued  ..............

THE BEARD OF ROMULUS

 THE BEARD OF ROMULUS

Facial hair was not tolerated at the court of Romulus, and a bearded or otherwise hirsute face was ripe for dismemberment and scarification if seen by the Emperor .

 Emissaries to the inner sanctum were forewarned and a shaving cubicle was located at the entrance to the Emperors chambers where naked female slaves would remove the offending bristles with obsidian blades cloaked in goose fat, candle wax and crushed bone. 

However, after a long weekend of revelries and heavy drinking to celebrate his favourite mistress giving birth to a further bastard, the Emperor awoke from a deep and heavy slumber to find that a thick beard had enveloped his facial features. 

 His chin was covered in thick black hair that continued up to his ears and cranial hairline, and spread down to his neck and chest.  Furthermore , his chest, armpits and groin were a virtual follicle forest, and had its inherent resident wildlife consisting of fleas, ticks and ringworms. 

To be continued.......

DOLLIS HILL LINK TO HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE

 DOLLIS HILL LINK TO HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE

Recent documents unearthed at a secret location in North West London have disclosed that an attempt to revive the Holy Roman Empire, was attempted by members of the Duck Flat Cap Society during the recent Covid lockdown. 

Supervised by Commander Edmondson of the Red Guard, otherwise known locally as Dave the Teach, the society had devised a cunning plan to reinstate the Holy Roman Emperor and revive the former state that used to encompass modern Germany, Switzerland and northern Italy.

The position of Emperor was to be bestowed on the late Driver Chard, with  Chelsea Dave acting as Regent, from the three year interregnum between the Chard's untimely death and the crowning of Chelsea Dave as Emperor. The crowning was to be by the Pope, but if not available, Barry the gravedigger was lined up as a replacement.  

New Regal regalia was to be established, and based on the currently lost regalia of the Presidency of the Duck Flat Cap Society, comprising of an old toilet cistern chain and a rubber bath mat. However, a number of members of the Holy Roman Empire sub committee were opposed to the proposed incumbent, and in particular Little Legs Parkes and Basher Hurley who threatened a schism.  

To be continued.......

THE WIND OF SHAME

 THE WIND OF SHAME

As they waited for their cab, Dr Doyle and his small entourage of cronies huddled together for protection against the inclement weather.  It was still early in the morning but last nights alcoholic effect was beginning to wain, and the need for booster shots was evident.

The battered Mercedes drove in to view with its windscreen wipers working furiously to extinguish the flotsam and jetsam thrown up by the turbulent weather. 

As usual, Dr Doyle entered the front passenger door and placed his overweight arse in to the welcoming refuge of a sick covered seat. The rest of the roustabouts squeezed in to the back seats and shuffled about until all of their corpulent and unwashed bodies were secure.

 As the taxi engaged gear and began to enter the sparse early morning traffic, they each individually glanced back at the hotel that had been their refuge the previous night. The various incidents were unsettling to all involved and each inhabitant of the cab shivered as they recalled the nights biggest surprise.

The mini cab driver gruffly inquired of there destination, and suggested the airport. Shaking his head and thick red neck, the Doctor drew in a deep breath and explained that he wished to be taken to a run down area of town adjacent to the canal and derelict Victorian era wharfs and docks. 

Dr Doyle's target was a well known establishment was situated next to a small humped back bridge over the canal, which was renowned for selling good fried breakfasts, cheap well stocked ale and lager, and the best stout in the city.

The pungent smell of formaldehyde was still thick in each of the groups nostrils as they exited the vehicle and strolled nonchalantly towards the shabby structure of the building. A gaggle of geese swam eagerly towards them as they approached the entrance, eagerly awaiting some form of reward. However, they were not expecting the half brick that was flung in there direction by the Doctor.

Pushing the door open, the team scanned the premises seeking out there target. Eyes darting from left to right soon settled on the large, overweight and balding character seated at a large table by a window, with a flickering candle on the checked tablecloth. A  small tot of Jameson's sat in front of him, beside a freshly brewed cup of black coffee and an empty ashtray.

 Noticing the arrival of Dr Doyle and his associates, he gestured for them to come over to him, and gently stood up.  

To be continued......