THE CRISTMAS DAY MASSACRE - MAD ALBERT III

 THE CRISTMAS DAY MASSACRE - MAD ALBERT III

Christmas was on a Friday, and all were anticipating a wonderful long weekend of stuffed belly's, frequent flatulence, laughter, tears and humongous hangovers. 

As all and sundry sat contently and contemplated their Christmas break, a dark stinking malevolent entity lurked in its lair, stroking its putrid membrane with its malformed spikes and salivating at the thought of his future bounty. It was resting now, but would quickly spring back in to action with a new and invigorated resolve.

 It inwardly laughed at the incompetency of those elected to protect them, and scoffed at the pathetic measures they believed would restrict its ever strengthening and strangulating grip in humanity. 

The entity had first made its self known earlier in the year when it materialised from nowhere in the far east and paralised society. In earlier manifestations it had had many names but most recently had worked its evil way under the name of "Mad Albert Disease". 

Tests conducted by the scientific and micro biology section of the Duck Flat Cap Society, have allegedly traced a deadly new strain of Mad Albert Disease (MAD) to a discarded pair of soiled undergarments belonging to the overweight and vertically challenged, Pepe Le Puke.

The offending boxer shorts were allegedly discovered in Hamburg , Germany, and were easily identified to be those of the diminutive balding ex refuse collector, by the name sewn in to the waistband. If this evidence was not enough, a pair of his mittens, again with his name tag attached were found adjacent to the blood, shit and puss stained underpants.

It is believed that this strain has mutated after coming in to contact with the original variant of Mad Albert, which originated at the Mitre Public house in North West London towards the end of the last century. 

Previous joint research conducted by the "Medical Committee" of the “Expanding Waste band Society” and the "Consumption committee" of the “Duck flat cap society” has resulted in controversial evidence that links the original source of “Mad Albert Disease” to the sadly missed Mitre public house.

As previously reported, the origin of the highly debilitating disease was allegedly been traced to a pint of Double Diamond or Long Life, purchased in the Mitre by the semi illiterate and partially insane flat cap wearer, “Mad" Albert Bumfield.

“Mad Albert” being a regular of the Mitre from the late 1940’s until his death in the early 1980’s is believed to have imbibed the fateful Double Diamond or Long Life whilst watching his double jointed wife engage in a spot of improvised ballet dancing and gymnastics on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

During the war Mad Albert was a regular soldier in a division of the North African Desert Rat Regiment, almost fully populated by Mitre Regulars, and known as the “ Fully Mechanised Imbibing Division”. 

It is believed he picked up Bilharzia disease whilst bathing in the Nile, and this combined with the currently unknown toxin allegedly picked up in the Mitre, resulting in the onset of full Mad Albert Disease within 48 hours.

These combined strains of the newly mutated entity have themselves allegedly mixed with unknown pathogens that usually live in the guts and gizzards of chickens and other fowl and had dispersed around the world in the lungs of unsuspecting commuters, cruise passengers and air travelers. 

As Christmas loomed on the near horizon, the virulent assassin decided it was time to unleash its newly in-mixed and invigorated powers, and started to infiltrate the genteel members of leafy Kent, and swiftly moved in to metropolitan London and its hinterland of the home counties. 

The media was alive with reports of increased infections and deaths as the disease skulked through the populous. As it reveled in the ease of its own success, like a child pulling the wings from a daddy long-legs, it decided that it would reward its bloated self belief by mutating and strengthening the ability to pass on its malaise swifter and more accurately than previously. 

To be continued.......

VACCINATION OUTRAGE AT THE DUCK FLAT CAP SOCIETY

 VACCINATION OUTRAGE AT THE DUCK FLAT CAP SOCIETY

Recent events surrounding the venerable and apolitical Duck Flat Cap Society have outraged its genteel and distinguished membership.

 At the last Zoom meeting of the "Virology and Quaffworthyness" sub section of the debating society, Northern agitator and professor of Vino Rouge, Dave the Teach, insisted that he had discovered a safe vaccine to offer full protection against the most virulent of social diseases, "Mad Albert Disease". 

However, the acting chairman and president Dave Duck, has advised the society that the "Imbibing and Procrastinating" sub-committee of the Duck Flat Cap Society have declared Dave the Teach's outburst was both illegal and unconstitutional. 

Previous joint research conducted by the "Medical Committee" of the “Expanding Waste band Society” and the "Consumption committee" of the “Duck flat cap society” has resulted in controversial evidence that links the original source of “Mad Albert Disease” to the sadly missed Mitre public house.

The origin of the highly debilitating disease was allegedly been traced to a pint of Double Diamond or Long Life, purchased in the Mitre by the semi illiterate and partially insane flat cap wearer, “Mad" Albert Bumfield.

“Mad Albert” being a regular of the Mitre from the late 1940’s until his death in the early 1980’s is believed to have imbibed the fateful Double Diamond or Long Life whilst watching his double jointed wife engage in a spot of improvised ballet dancing and gymnastics on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

During the war Mad Albert was a regular soldier in a division of the North African Desert Rat Regiment, almost fully populated by Mitre Regulars, and known as the “ Fully Mechanised Imbibing Division”. It is believed he picked up Bilharzia disease whilst bathing in the Nile, and this combined with the currently unknown toxin allegedly picked up in the Mitre, resulting in the onset of Full Mad Albert Disease within 48 hours.

It is also alleged by other witnesses, that on the first occasion that poor "Mad Albert Bumfield" convulsed to the malevolent strains of the disease named after him, the large and generously proportioned "Big Ian" was seated on his normal stool and witnessed the whole event.

As usual, "Big Ian" had consumed his normal lunchtime quota of 12 pints of strong cider, and therefore can be considered to be of sound mind and no way impaired by excess alcohol. The alleged rumours are that he noticed a disheveled figure skulking by the gents, who was seen to exhale his stinking breath fully in to the the face of Old Mad Albert, just prior to his first convulsion. Further more, it is alleged that this person was "Ted the Barman", who was soon to become a long time if disheveled barman at the Mitre.

It should also be reported that many other regulars of the Mitre began to show the early signs of "Mad Albert Disease" in particular the happy but mad as a brush, "Phil the tweak Baxter". The back flipping, flaxen haired barbarian considered it unusual if he had not tweaked the nipples of every male person in the pub, by closing time. In view of the evidence regarding Mad Albert Disease" it is now apparent that he may well have been suffering from the very early stages of the debilitating affliction.

Further investigations are being conducted by the various committee's of the "Expanding Waste Band Society" and the "Duck Flat Cap Society", so as to ascertain whether the claims that a vaccine has been found are true and future reports will be posted here.

To be updated in due course.....

CHARD OF THE YARD AND THE TIARA MURDER MYSTERY

  CHARD OF THE YARD AND THE TIARA MURDER MYSTERY

Inspector Chard was a stout fellow of resolute will, sound mind and inspirational faith. He also supported Fulham F.C.

Born in to a lower class household in north west London before the second great conflict, he never travelled far from his birth. Indeed, he never possessed a passport or travelled beyond the borders of England. To the remarkable Inspector Chard, crossing the borders of Middlesex was a great struggle, and indeed, a trip to near by Watford in the neighboring county of Hertfordshire was strain on his constitution.

After leaving school at the age of eight, he trained as a porter at the local Harrow and Wealdstone station and quickly progressed to ticket hall officer and trolley pusher. During the long hours at the station, he studied to become a fully qualified medical Doctor, and after many years was reworded with a Doctorate in Psychiatry and Origami. Not long after passing his final exams, he submitted a paper to the School of Bavarian Hematology and Photo Lobotomies and unexpectedly obtained a seat on its UK board, which was located at the nearby Brunhilder Harrovian and Munich psychiatric Unit. 

Not long after taking up his seat, he was involved with local police enforcement officers, who asked him to assist with a case involving the disappearance of a barman from the Tiara Public house on the borders of North Wembley and Sudbury. The barman, named Ted, had been a regular member of the staff at the hostelry, and although short in stature and low in mental agility, was looked upon kindly and affectionately by the pubs riotous and boisterous working class cliental. 

He had gone missing after a humongous after hours session that continued in the early hours of the morning. All those in attendance had been interviewed by the local police, who agreed to withhold charging the Tiara for licensing irregularities providing vital information regarding Teds disappearance was forthcoming. The licensee of the Tiara, a small Rugby hooligan of Welsh and English heritage, "Little Taffy", had agreed to assist with the polices enquiries, providing he could retain his seat at the annual policemen's ball, and keep his collection of illegal photographs and videos discovered on his premises.

After coming to an acceptable agreement, information was divulged and the fields situated to the rear of the public house were excavated by a specialist police unit. A yellowing skull was quickly uncovered amongst a scattering of empty bottles of stout, crisp packets and fag ends. 

Chard of the Yard had been secretly tipped off by Little Taffy that he suspected old Pa Bumfold as the murderer, due to his increasing senility and the constant aggravation he was under emanating from his alcoholic but gymnastically orientated wife. 

Amongst the detriment found scattered around the unearthed skull, a small set of yellowing false teeth were recovered. The teeth were not Teds, as his putrid teeth were still entombed within his wretched jaws. Chard set out to call on Old Pa Bumfold to try and establish if the set of Gnasher's would fit his emaciated and blotched face.  

 It was a little after midday and the smell of stale piss pervaded the atmosphere of the dingy downstairs room. Old “Pa Bumfold” crossed his legs but failed to stop the emission flowing from his fetid soiled undergarments. 

Placing both hands on the filthy armchair he levered himself to his feet and shuffled towards the kitchen back door and the sanctuary of the brick outhouse, unfortunately situated in the back yard of the Victorian terraced property.

After a ten minute session in the putrid latrine and doing the paperwork with an old copy of the Radio Times, Pa Bumfold shuffled back in to the kitchen, where he was immediately set upon by his deranged octogenarian wife Gloria, a failed gymnast and part time exhibitionist from Kilburn. She managed to wrap here spindly legs around his neck by leaping from the kitchen table and slowly began to squeeze the life out of her befuddled husband.

A loud knock at the front door interrupted the comic grappling in the kitchen, and both made their way to the hallway and front door, where the unmistakable shadow of a policeman was viewed through the tinted glass panel in the door. 

Old Pa Bumfold, whose face was still puce from the near strangling his wife had administered, turned the latch and opened the door, fully expecting the old bill to nick him for his ungentlemanly conduct in the Tiara public house the previous night, when he had farted in the face of the opposing darts teams captain.

However, after removing his flat cap, Inspector Chard explained that during recent excavations so as to facilitate the building of a new sports centre at Vale Farm, on the site of the existing open air swimming pool, they had unearthed a skeleton of a deformed dwarf like creature with missing teeth, broken wire rimmed spectacles, a curved spine and a silver bracelet on his lower arm depicting the name “Ted”. 

Furthermore, due to the boggy nature of the soil, part of the creature’s skin had been preserved and upon it was a child like tattoo describing the name “Ted” in blue ink. However, Inspector Chard also stated that unusually for such cases, the skull was unearthed, but was presumed to have been disturbed by animals, but the missing parts, including his false teeth, would no doubt be found in due course.

To be continued or updated..........

THE KNIGHTS OF THE SQUARE BLOG

 THE KNIGHTS OF THE SQUARE BLOG

"Sir Loaf" of Loafington Hall was a grandee of the grandest grandees, and loved to wear the most polished and shiny amour in town.

He loved crushed velvet, and was very partial to cheesecloth as undergarments. The ungainly and highly polished knight dreamed of creamed teas and toasted crumpets, but had know idea of what they were. 

His daily routine included rising at dawn to feed his pigeons and guinea pigs, breakfast on boiled beans and spinach an hour later, and complete his ablutions at midday. 

 He would be fully dressed by twilight, usually wearing a tunic of crushed velvet, a cheesecloth loincloth,  cotton hose and finished off with  shiny plate metal amour. 

He loved amour !

Then he would parade around the courtyards and closes of  his castle, posing and preening as he conveyed his self about the complex of palatial buildings and courtyards. 

However, the tilt-yard was his favouirite place, and he was often seen gallivanting with local youths, both female and male, along the divided corridor used by the charging steads. 

His favouirite pastime whilst inhabiting the tilt-yard was the illegal practice of "bareback cock jousting", with his fanciful entourage of  couriers and buddies. He also enjoyed his courtiers playing gay tunes on the banjo, and would often sit mesmerised as a tune was plucked by a tuneful minstrel.

When not on the tilt-yard or enjoying the company of his youthful entourage, Sir Loaf would quietly sit on his horse and compose lewd verse and poetry to impress his court. Although not schooled to a high level, he could understand pigeon English, and had a smattering of Latin, Yiddish and French. 

However, his favourite mode of written communication was in his imaginary language that he called "flutter-verse", and in that he was fluent. It was littered with childish words for biological and lavatorial  activities and involved a significant amount of hand signals, that rendered it next to useless for written communication. However, Sir Loaf loved it and wallowed in his flutter-verse universe.

He had a huge scar on his face which was the product of a childish spat with his uncle when still a ward of court. 

To be continued.......

JOHNNY DIVOC AND THE HIDDEN RIDERS OF TOMORROW

JOHNNY DIVOC AND THE HIDDEN RIDERS OF TOMORROW

Johnny loved Jazz and often pretended to play the double bass when travelling on the metro or a bus. He was a bit backward, but got by with a smile and a wink.

The family were from old east Europe, escaping from tyranny and servitude in an East Prussian village. They travelled to their current location by passenger ship, travelling third class, and lived in a run down area on the East side of the river Styx. 

Unfortunately, soon after disembarking at the docks,  Pa Divoc lost all of his life savings in a bare knuckle fight with a one armed Sicilian midget called Rocco. There after, the family worked hard at a number of sources of income, including manual labour, various nefarious sub legal activities, and selling their bodies for sex, and eventually managed to save some capital. 

In time, the Divoc's managed to rent a small lock- up shop on the block by the import docks, originally selling provisions and basic goods. It was quite successful from the start, however, it was not unusual for young Johnny to get a beating from the local kids when running errands for his parents. In particular, the many bastard children sired by Rocco, the one armed Sicilian midget who gave his father a beating at the docks.

As well as selling household goods and confectionary, the shop also sold Hemp and Flax imported from eastern Europe, using contacts from their homeland and especially Konigsberg and Ebling. Occasionally the opportunity to sell narcotics was presented by additional imports from Konigsberg, and it soon became obvious that Drug dealing made them more money. 

The profits from the illegal narcotic activities enabled the family  to move to a larger more prominent location, nearer the main line train station and close to the towns major hotels an brothels.  

It was inevitable that Johnny would become a drug addict very quickly, and as his predilection for good blow grew stronger by the day he began to supplement it with opium and other strong brain numbing salty stimulants and downers. 

Living in a permanent state of inebriation and  stupefaction, Johnny was drawn towards closer association with Rocco and his band of hoodlum miscreants. The north bank of the Styx had only one prominent group of hoodlums', and they went by the name of the Turdoxions. 

Rocco was their leader and self proclaimed hard man of  his manor.

Johnny grew older and bolder as the years passed and soon he had developed in to a six foot three, hazel eyed man about town and a seasoned scavenger of bitches. His ears and nose were slightly curved, as he drove his camper van pained blue and green, along the ocean highway with spray splattering its hood and bodywork.

After a brief spell in the military, he would often take this trip along the ocean front on his way to meet the nefarious Dr Delirious Doyle.

Dr Doyle had first met Johnny when he was attached to the Sister Crippen unit of the renown "Shenley Mitre" Hospital for the mentally insane and obese.

They had been active during various South American and European Civil Wars, and had also operated behind enemy lines during operation Yellow Brick Road. However, Dr Doyle was now an enthusiastic accomplice in the distribution of Johnny's salty hallucinogenic products, partially due his almost fanatical love of the mind bending salty snacks. However, Rocco was not on good terms with Dr Doyle after an incident at the Parkinson Institute for the clinically intoxicated and inebriated.  

To be continued..........

   

THE LIFE AND TIMES OF RUDYARD YOUHOARE

                              THE LIFE AND TIMES OF RUDYARD YOUHOARE

Rudyard Youhoare was washed up by the time he was twenty.  

A life of excesses and a flamboyant relationship with alcohol, chips, fags and women had taken their toll. 

Although originally athletic and a keen sportsman, since he practically absconded from school at the age of fourteen, his attitude to his body had meant a steep decline in his athleticism.

The weight had started to build from an early age, and a combination of cider, sandwiches, biscuits and chips had enabled his waistline to expand at an alarming rate.

A string of broken relationships and pregnancy scares behind him, he led a reckless life inhabiting the seedy side and establishments of Neasden, Kings Cross, Achill Island and Soho.

A couple of brushes with the law made no difference to his boisterous roustabout behaviour, and although he has over the years made many friends, he has also unknowingly also made more than a few dangerous enemies. After a brief and unsuccessful attempt at being a self styled ladies man of Kingsbury Circle, he migrated to the fleshpots of Kings Cross and Soho, together with his partner in crime, Dr Theopolis Roylster. 

So as to establish a means to supplement his meagre income as a failed carpenter apprentice, he would arrange a nefarious method of obtaining cash via a number of criminal activities including petty theft, grand larceny and the sale of falsified documents to members of the construction fraternity.

After a short period working as a rent boy, he managed to establish himself with a local construction company where he acted as a runner for a local criminal who frequented a perilous public house called the Old Spotted Knob. 

To be continued......

LIFE IN THE SLOW LANE

                                                        LIFE IN THE SLOWLANE

When things were normal, before the effects of the virus interrupted normal life, Norman Krettin lived a somewhat strange but steady life.

 He would wake in the early hours to release his bladder and prepare his standard breakfast of holy ghost and beef dripping, supplemented by lashings of milky tea.  After his swift ablutions, he would dress in his working clothes, consisting of old black slacks, a string cotton vest, long sports socks and topped and tailed by a woolen jumper and brothel creepers. 

This would be supplemented by a plastic fake leatherette jacket in the winter months or if it was raining. At precisely 5.30am he would depart his humble abode and seek public transport to commute him to his place of work. 

The precise location of his employment would depend on which building site he was engaged in supervising, and would often change at awkward times for Noman Krettin, due to complications in scheduling of the various stages of construction and cashflow at the projects being completed. It was of the utmost importance too Norman that he was the first person in the makeshift office, as it gave him time to hide the previous days mishaps and ensure that any changes to the construction schedule could be accounted for in a variety of nefarious and underhand means.  

After and exhausting day of shuffling papers and pretending to use his computer, Norman would make his excuses and leave the others to there own devices , so that he could make his way home via bus and train.  Upon reaching his abode, he would stretch out on his specially enforced and strengthened armchair, and watch satellite TV until he felt the urge to urinate or pass solids. 

However, since the emergence of the virulent virus COVID, Norman Krettin has been reduced to exactly the same excruciatingly mind numbing routine as nothing has changed in his humdrum life !

He is not affected by curfews at the local pubs and restaurants as he does not use them, and trips to the shops have been out of bounds since his arrest for shoplifting in Liddle's after consuming too many cans of cider on the latrine after an early lunch on is last birthday.  

As for socialising, his social life has been non existent since telephoning all his previous "friends" at four a.m. in the morning after a few too many cans of extra strong Perry, and sending parcels of his putrid poo in the Royal Mail as a sad follow through.

All that remained for Norman Krettin then and as now, was to consume 18 can of cider on a Saturday night, on his own, accompanied by satellite tv, a box of tissues and an aging mobile telephone.

And alas, this continues to be  the life in the slow lane for Norman Krettin , or is it ?

To be continued.........