Ash

Ash, Battleship, Blue

Cadet, Cement, Charcoal

Chrome, Cinder, Cloud

Cool, Dark, Davy's

Dim, Dingy, Dove

Drab, Dun, Dusk

Dust, Favillous, Flint

Fossil, Fuscous, Gainsboro

Glaucous, Granite, Gray

Grizzly, Gunmetal, Heather

Iron, Jet, Lead

Light, Livid, Lyart

Medium, Mouse, Oyster

Pearl, Pebble, Pepper

Pewter, Platinum, Plumbaceous

Plumbago, Powder, Puce

Quartz, Roan, Rocket Metallic

Rose, Russet, Sad

Sand, Sere, Shaded

Shistaceous, Silver, Slate

Smoke, Somber, Soot

Steel, Stone, Storm

Taupe, Titanium, Xanadu

That's 51 Shades of Grey.

Another Case for Muller and Scurry

Roxy Muller put down the folder, “It’s only a matter of time, you know.”

“You don’t have a case against me. You might as well let me go.”

“I have a witness who saw you arguing with Clive Marx two nights ago.”

“Yes, but he was alive when I left him, and, as far as I know, he still is.”

“We know you killed him. You argued about his affair, then you killed him and disposed of the body.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You discovered that he had been seeing your cousin, Gertrude.”

“We split up months ago. Why should that matter to me?”

“Perhaps you still had feelings for him. Perhaps you felt betrayed.”

“And perhaps not. Perhaps this is all guesswork. Perhaps you have no idea. And perhaps you should let me go.”

Muller pulled out some photographs.

“This is your business – Wicker Wocker Woo – the one you started with Clive? You make wicker furniture and such. That hardly sounds like a profitable business.”

“You’d be surprised. We even export.”

“Yes. I’ve seen your books. You sell a lot to Kublastan.”

“Yes. So what?”

“Wicker is an interesting material. You use synthetics, don’t you?”

“Yes. Natural wicker isn’t strong enough for furniture.”


Over at the shop, Muller’s partner, Danny Scurry, was going over the forensic evidence. He checked a drawer and pulled out a bunch of keys, “We’re looking in the wrong place, guys. They have a warehouse.”

The team arrived at the address Scurry found and he opened the door. The air was heavy with the smell of resin, “This is where they make the wicker. Check the offices and the equipment.”

The team searched the building quickly and efficiently. In the meantime, Scurry went to the loading bay where hundreds of pieces were waiting to be loaded into trucks. He carefully examined them, opening the various boxes and baskets, looking inside the packs of chairs and tables. Then he smiled, “Magnus, come here. Check this out.”

There was a knock on the door, and Danny Scurry walked in, taking the seat beside Muller.

“We found him.”

“You couldn’t have.”

“We found an odd looking hamper, so we checked it out. In with the synthetic wicker material we found human DNA. Clive Marx’s DNA. If you had spread the material around, we might have missed it, but you made the fatal mistake.”

“What was that?”

“You put all your ex in one basket.”

Pong tiddy pong

I sing a song
When things go wrong
Sing pong tiddy pong tiddy pong

It may be cold and wet
And dark but yet
Sing pong tiddy pong tiddy pong

Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy
Pong pong pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy pong

When your bills are unpaid
And you balance is red
Sing pong tiddy pong tiddy pong

You sneeze and cough
And you feel so rough
Sing pong tiddy pong tiddy pong

Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy
Pong pong pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy pong

Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy
Pong pong pong
Tiddy tiddy pong
Pong tiddy pong
Tiddy tiddy tiddy tiddy pong

The Dead Mobile Sketch

A customer enters a mobile phone shop.

"'Ello, I wish to register a complaint."

"Sorry, we just closed."

"Well, you can deal with my complaint before you have your cappucino and your dead cow sandwich."

"Dead pig, actually.. Lovely, crispy, dead pig."

"That's as maybe. I wish to complain about this mobile phone I bought from you yesterday."

"Oh yes, The GSB Blue. ER, what seems to be the problemeticule?"

"Problemeticule? Promlemeticule? What sort of word is problemeticule? The problem, my good man, is it don't work. It's dead. That's the problem."

"Nah, nah, nah. It just needs charging."

"Look, dude, I know a dead mobile when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now."

"Nah, nah, nah. It just needs charging. Amazin' mobile, the GSB Blue. Lovely shape, isn't it? Great apps."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Apps. I said apps. Great APPS."

"Sorry, I thought you were making a personal remark."

"Nah."

"The apps have nothing to do with it. It's dead."

"Nah, nah. Look, I'll plug it in here, and you'll see. BEEP."

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That BEEP!"

"That's the mobile. It's charging."

"No it wasn't, it was you."

"It was the mobile, Señor, the mobile."

"All right, if it's charging, I'll turn it on. Pokey, pokey, pokey! Shaky, shaky, shaky! There. Look at the screen! Nothing!"

"BEEP! There, it beeped again."

"That was you. Look, I'll tap it on this counter. Tap, tap, tappy!"

"The screen came on."

"No it didn't."

"It did. Just for a moment, it came on."

"Bang, bang, bangy! Nothing! That's what I call a dead mobile."

"Nah, it was working."

"Now look, Homey, I've had enough. This mobile is definitely dead. When I bought this yesterday, you said that it's total lack of activity was because it had a flat battery after being used for a long conversation."

"Well, it was probably needing an upgrade."

"Needing an upgrade? Needing an upgrade? Look, why did it fall to pieces when I got it home?"

"Ease of dismantling and assembly. Lovely apps, Mein Herr."

"You did say apps?"

"Apps, yes apps."

"Very well. It may have lovely apps, but how could I tell? The only reason there was a picture on the screen was that someone had painted it on!"

"Well, of course it was painted on. You have to protect the screen, you know."

"Protect the screen? What for? It's a dead mobile."

"It just needs a charge."

"It wouldn't work if you sent a million volts through it! It's dead!"

"Nah, it just needs charging."

""It don't need charging, it's dead! Defunct! It is broken, blitzed, defective, non-functional! It is brick-like! The only app it has is Paperweight! It is obsolete, unusable! It has joined the Vibraphone in Silicon Heaven! This is an EX-MOBILE!"

"Well, I'd better replace it, m'sieur. Er, we're right out of mobile phones."

"Excuse me, is this not a mobile phone shop?"

"Why, yes sir."

"Then how, pray tell, can you be out of mobile phones?"

"I've got a bluetooth earpiece."

"Can I make calls with it?"

"Well, not as such.."

"Then it's hardly a replacement, is it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Well?"

"Nice ass."

"Why, thank you, my good man."

The Tyrant

NOW LISTEN! HERE ARE MY DEMANDS!
When I want you I will summon you, day or night, and you shall attend me.
I will not tell you what I want, that is for you to determine. I may want food: if I enjoy it all will be well.
If I don’t, I will spit it out or throw it across the room.
I may want to be entertained: if so you, will humiliate yourself for my pleasure.
I may smile, I may laugh, and you will consider this reward enough,

I may throw things for you to retrieve, and you will do so for as long as it amuses me.
Whatever vileness my body produces, you will dispose of.
Whatever I take is mine and woe betides anyone that thinks otherwise.
I am my own universe, and what are you in comparison?
You exist merely to please and to serve me,

Yes I am greedy and selfish, yet in all you think me blameless
After all I am only a baby…

Nativity

It was a Sunday afternoon in the middle of December. Hazel was so excited, all she could think of was her new job. No more teaching sniffly, screaming children. Her future was the fashion industry for a career in fabric production. Her head was filled with ideas for new colour combinations. For days now her food had gone uneaten and her untouched coffee went cold. Then she had a phone call from her best friend at the school.

“Hazel, we need you at the nativity.”

“I’m finished with school. I start my new job tomorrow.”

“Please. The person that was to play Mary has taken sick. We need you to replace her. You did it last year.”

“Please, don’t ask me. I’m feeling rough at the moment as it is.”

“I know how excited you must be. Have you been starving yourself? You do that when you’re anxious.”

“Yes. I haven’t had a thing for three days.”

“Please, Hazel. Just for me. Eat, drink and be Mary, for tomorrow you dye.”

Pig Prosthetics

This is another story based on one I heard a long time ago. Once again, I have failed to find out who wrote the original. Whoever you are, thanks.

Robert was taking his family for a tour of a farm In Dustham. All was well until little Billy ran up to him and yelled. “Daddy, Daddy! That pig has got a wooden leg!” Robert told him not to be silly, but Billy yelled again “Daddy, Daddy! That pig really has a wooden leg!” So the whole family went over to the pen and, sure enough, there was a pig with a wooden leg.

Robert called to the farmer and asked him “Prithee, Goodsir, methinks ‘tis odd that yon pig has a leg of wood. Pray, what manner of thing is this?” (Robert had mastered the local dialect).

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit?” (The farmer was actually from Watford). “When me and the missus was just starting up here, all we could afford was that pig. Got him when he was just a piglet.”

“Verrily, Goodsir,” (Robert was a bit slow on the uptake). “But why the leg as wooden as any oak?”

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit? In the first week we got him he starts nuzzling the ground by that tree over there. We starts digging and there’s this huge pile of Roman coins. We got £250,000 for that.”

“Yes, but why the wooden leg?” (By George he’s got it!).

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit? Abaht 6 months ago a burglar broke in tied up me and the missus, took all our money and jewellery and ran off. That pig jumped out of his pen, chased after the burglar, knocked him out, got into the house, chewed off the ropes on me and the missus, went back and sat on the burglar until the police came.”

“But why the wooden leg?”

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit? Only last month I was working the lower field, when one of the tractor wheels sinks into the grahnd. The whole thing tips over and pins me dahn. I couldn’t move. I thought I was a gonner, and no mistake. That pig jumps out of his pen and starts digging away at the earth around me and drags me out. I owe my life to that pig.”

“Yes, yes, yes. But why the wooden leg!!!”

“Well, mate, it’s like this, innit? Last Tuesday our niece went for a paddle in the pond. She slips and hits her head on a rock. That pig jumps out of his pen and drags her out. Then it does CPR on her. It saved her life.”

“Look, if you don’t tell us why that pig has a wooden leg, I’m going to beat you senseless.”

“Well, mate, it’s obvious, innit? You have a pig that good; you don’t eat him all at once!! Streaky bacon anybody? Fresh!”