Welcome back my friends
To the show that never ends
We're so glad you could attend
Come inside, come inside
There inside the glass
Is a REAL blade of grass
Be careful as you pass
Move along, move along
(Emerson, Lake & Palmer 1976)
astard semihippy looked into the distance, through the haze he could dimly resolve the shape looming up infront of him as a car of some description. He jammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt half a mile down the road as the little motorbike/hairdryer stalled and crunched into the back of a parked C5.
Bastard semihippy removed his helmet and cursed the useless visor.
"It's all that bloody hippies fault!" he said to himself.
The hippy was relaxing listening to some of his favourite music ('I suppose god's an alright guy really, after all he did give us motorbikes didn't he' by Judas Priest).
"Sludge" said sludge.
"Oh wow!" said the hippy.
"Sludge" said sludge.
"Oh wow!" said the hippy.
"Sludge" enthused sludge.
"Oh wow!" said the hippy.
"Sludge" urged sludge.
"Oh wow!" said the hippy.
Just then (fortuitously for the reader) there was a ring at the doorbell. Sludge sludged over to the door and sludged under it to see who was there. There was a muffled 'yuk!' from the other side and the hippy opened the door. A gray haired old man with glasses and a trendy jumper worn under a lab coat with biro all around the top pocket confronted him.
"Goode morning to ye goode sir!" he said with enthusiasm.
"I bringeth news ofe ye new wonder trendygadget from ye halls of ye nips in ye olde towne ofe Hongkong"
The hippy stood there bemused. The old man whipped out a large lump of metal with wires all over it from a Woolworths plastic carrier bag.
"This be ye gadget I speaketh ofe. It be ye latest inductionemoteur, refrigerateurs fore ye use ofe"
The hippy stared at the multicoloured accumulated biro stains of two centuries above the old mans pocket, a look of profound obliviousness on his face.
"Ife ye be notest in ye least bit interested in ye new trendygadget removethed frome mine owne spouses fridge not one houre agoe, thene I also haveth in mine posession for ye sale of, socks in many hued coloeurs" The hippy bought twelve pairs and watched the old man wander up the path towards the gate, muttering to himself.
"This doeth put me in minde of ye time in which I accidentally washed all of mine socks at once and did have nothing in ye slightest to wear upon mine feet fore the period that they were hungeth on the washing line..."
Strange, thought the hippy.
"Way-yae-man, how ye doin' wi' that case I set you on man ?" Inspector Jethro tried toglean some sense from the Boshes words. "Errr...a vodka-Russian please" he said hopefully. PC MadChris grinned manically.
"Way-yae-man, why don't ye get yer arse doon to the docks and interrogate one of them informants that ye keep boosting aboot" PC MadChris grabbed inspector Jethro before he tried to force open the drinks cabinet and dragged him down to the awaiting car.
The hippy yawned. There was something nagging at the back of his mind and he couldn't quite fathom exactly what it was.
"Sludge, what is that bleeping sound I've been hearing since the end of HIPPYSTORY part 6 ?"
"Sludge" said sludge.
"Oh wow! Of course, it's the radio direction finder tuned in to the bug placed on the Bastard semihippy!"
"Sludge" muttered sludge under his breath.
The hippy found the small box with the flashing lights on it and looked at it.
"Come on sludge, if we hurry, we'll be able to catch him, he's only two hundred and forty miles away."
Thirty seconds later the hippy was crawling along next to the semihippy who had his throttle full open.
"Ha I've caught you!" claimed the hippy.
The semihippy produced a screwdriver from within his coat of many pockets and thrust it into the front tyre of the 750TURBO (Yawwwwwn). The hippy suddenly found himself lying on the grass with a mangled 750TURBO at his feet (Yawwwwwwwn). The hippy broke down and cried as the 'phut phut phut' of the semihippies mode of transport dissappeared into the distance.
"I think the main problem we have is that the bar is not open yet." said inspector Jethro in disgust. PC MadChris sighed. The two policemen were in mufti, camouflage. The inspector wore a tatty pair of jeans and a Motorhead T-shirt. PC MadChris wore a tatty pair of jeans, a Status Quo Thisisthelasttourweareevergoing-todoagainhonest T-shirt, and his regulation issue helmet. The criminals dissappeared into the shadows as the two men approached.
"I think they've rumbled our disguise" observed inspector Jethro. "We'll have to go see Dodgy Dave."
PC MadChrises eyes widened.
"This time Madchris, try not to look like a sheep."
Inspector Jethro pressed the button on the doorbell, it rang out clearly. Baaaaaa!
PC MadChris had developed a nervous twitch. He remembered the last time that they had had to visit Dodgy Dave. The door opened.
"Oh Hi there inspector Jethro what can I do to you ?"
Inspector Jethro completely missed the suggestion.
"We would like you to contact your sources and let us know where to find the Bastard Semihippy."
Dodgy Dave looked disappointed.
"He's in the Wirral." he said resignedly.
"Thanks" said inspector Jethro. Then he added hesitantly.
"Err...you wouldn't accept money would you this time ?"
"No ! It's got to be the usual method of payment." Inspector Jethro grimaced and looked at PC MadChris.
"OK get the sheep."
to be continued in a similar vein next week...
We took two identical 'soiled' socks from a protesting hippy and washed one of them in NEW ANTENNA AUTOMATIC and the other in an inferior quality soap sud.
When we handed them back to the hippy on the end of a ten foot barge pole, he had the following to say.
"Oh wow!"
So there you have it, NEW ANTENNA AUTOMATIC - much better than that cheap stuff you're using at the moment.
PURE NEW WOOL from Dodgy Dave and Associates
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I reserve the right of rejection if they are;
a) sick;
b) depraved;
c) risky;
d) against the Geneva convention;
e) anatomically impossible;
f) actual products;
g) funnier than mine !