Monkey Island

We had seen the adverts, so we thought we would give it a go. A weekend on Monkey Island. I don’t know what we expected, but we had to admit it was an  unusual place. The area where we stayed had been especially built for tourists, so we did not get a flavour of the island in its natural form.

In the centre of town were a number of night colobos.  We went to the Duoc Titi, where the speciality act, a woman called guenon, appearied in native costume with a yellow gibbon tied in her hair. She performed traditional dances while playing a green tamarin.

We were hungry after that. Fortunately, the restaurants and cafes are open 24 hours. We went into one that specialised in fish. They gave us a plate of Kipunji cooked under their gorilla, together with a bowl of chimps, followed by lemon meringue utan pie. We ate all that with a some mugs of hot, steaming capuchin.

The following morning started with fog. We walked along the mangabey, but the air was quite muriqui. Fortunately, it cleared by afternoon, so we could  fly home in a hot air baboon.

The Masked Man

Jerry Marsh stepped out of the lift, coffee in hand, and pushed through the door of Bristol Bureau of Investigation.

"Fifteen minutes late, Jerry."

"Ain't my fault, boss. Dave's gone missing again."

"Nothing new about that. As I recall your parents spent loads of time chasing after him. He'll be back. In the meantime we have a thief to find." Inspector Jarvis played a video of the robbery. It showed the inside of a supermarket. The door opened and a figure in a cat mask entered, opened the chilled cabinet, took out some plastic pots, and vanished. It had taken less than five minutes, and the alarm was silent throughout.”He has robbed seven supermarkets, but doesn’t take any money. Just pots of cream.”

"That picture don't give us much, boss."

"True, but check this out." Jarvis hit a few keys and zoomed in on the mask. "That mask is a little too tight. Forensic IT managed to map his face."

'"Any luck?"

"Just got this in. We have three hits; Alex Philips, Robert Harvey, and David Ross.”

“Well, it ain’t Ross. I dealt with him before. He’s doing five in the Scrubs.”

“And Philips hasn’t been seen in years. Word is he’s got married and gone straight.”

“So, Harvey it is, right, Boss?”

“Seems that way.”

Marsh organised undercover cars to watch over local supermarkets. At about 3am word came that a shop had been robbed and officers were in pursuit.

Marsh and Jarvis drove through the streets of Bristol to meet with the arresting officers. Marsh looked in the back of the car. He turned to Jarvis, utterly shocked.”

“What’s wrong, Marsh?”

“He ain’t Harvey, he’s my brother.”

Escape From Red Island

"Well, Pastor, looks like we have a problem."

Peter put a friendly hand on Pastor Max's shoulder. They were standing over what was a path to a causeway that joined Red Island to the mainland. Now it was under six feet of water.  Behind them, the members of The Church of Fair Dinkum had packed up the barbecue and sports equipment.

"I messed up, Pete. Shoulda paid more attention to the tides. When's it go out again?"

"According to this, one in the morning."

"We got families here. That's far too late. Any chance of the coastguard coming out?"

"No way to call them. No signal."

"Streuth! I suppose we could stay here overnight and go home tomorrow."

"No chance, Pastor. Weather's gonna turn and there's no shelter here."

They both fell silent as they watched the waves roll further up the shore.

After a while, Max shrugged and marched back to the congregation.

"Well, folks, I'm sorry, but it looks like we're stranded here, unless anyone's got any ideas?"

There were shrugs and murmurs, but no-one offered any suggestions.

Then Danny stepped forward.

"I've got an idea. I won't say what it is, because it will sound daft, but something in me says it will work."

"OK, Danny, do it. Can't make things any worse."

Danny stepped towards where the causeway started and took his boomerang out of his belt. He placed a hand on it and looked up to Heaven and prayed, "Lord, we need a way home, and you can make one for us."

Then he threw the boomerang over the sea. Just as it reached the furthest point, instead of coming back, it spun around and around in the air, faster and faster. An unearthly howl filled the air, and the water below the boomerang started to turn with it until it became a whirlpool. Then the water lifted up into a column, into a waterspout. The water reached the boomerang and continued to climb.

The sea along the causeway receded and solid ground appeared. The congregation grabbed their stuff and walked carefully along the path until they were safely ashore. When the last person stepped onto dry land, the waterspout collapsed and the causeway was flooded again.

From that point on, Danny was known as the Oz Moses.

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."