Friday, 27 June 2008

The Uncle and Monkey Show



It is an absolute disgrace!

Badfort TV have started beaming a so-called children's puppet show into Homeward.

It is called 'The Uncle and Monkey Show' and features two clear caricatures of The Old Monkey and I.

Yesterdays episode had me getting in a strop about the temperature of my cocoa and giving the monkey a resounding beating with a stick.

It then showed me demanding to have a celebratory parade and boasting about all my achievements, until a Beaver Hateman puppet came in and poured treacle all over me.

I then steal a bicycle, to escape Beaver's jeers, and am chased by a policeman.

Sadly, children seem to enjoy this kind of anarchy - finding it preferable to the Badgertown Broadcasting Company's rather insipid "Blue Peters' presented by a gang of blue dwarfs all called Peter.

But, I will not have the children of Homeward exposed to this blatant propaganda.

If we cannot block the signal then I shall take firm action.


Thursday, 26 June 2008

The Grand Rotating Towers of Homeward



I see that plans are underway to attempt to copy the Grand Rotating Towers of Homeward.

They were exciting places to live as they continuously changed shape as each floor rotated around the central axis.

Occupants of an entire floor could control the rotation by voice command, with speeds varying from an hour to three hours for each full rotation.

Also the skyscrapers were powered by the sun and wind so they were very ecological.

But I should have been more wary of their extraordinary design. It did not take Beaver Hateman long to find a fundamental flaw.

One night he and his gang sneaked into Homeward with giant wooden spikes which they rammed into the spokes of the buildings. All the inhabitants were thrown out of their beds as the buildings jarred to a halt. They have never worked properly since - and now have a kind of juddery, grating motion. Nobody wants to live in them anymore so we use them for grinding peppercorn.

You have probably seen the world famous Homeward brand - the only building-ground pepper in the world.

Sunday, 15 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 6



This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 6

We passed through the anomaly only to discover a topsy-turvy world where Beaver Hateman rules over Homeward. The Old Monkey and I have met our alter egos, living a dissolute life at Badfort, waging a constant battle with Beaver to overthrow his regime. They agreed to help us retrieve the helicopter from Homeward so that we could return, to our own world, back through the anomaly. But, our doppelgangers are now threatening to go back to the Homeward of our universe in our place.

My alter ego’s eyes burned with desire. Gripped by the insane idea of finally fulfilling his dream of owning Homeward. But suddenly the fire went out of his eyes and he looked quite sad. “No, tis’ but a pipedream – I’m not up to the job. You, clearly, are the elephant I will never be.” he said regretfully. “Your rightful place is as lord and master of your Homeward. From your description - it is a place of great happiness, even if you fight a constant battle with the Badfort Crowd. But you always win – that’s the point. In your universe you are up to the task. In mine I will always be fated to lose and no doubt I would lose in yours as well. For you have the character that I lack. You are a truly great elephant. You must return – at least, then, I will now that somewhere, someplace, an Uncle is in his rightful place.
I know now that if that helicopter leaves the ground and you are not in it, I’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of my life.

I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of an elephant like me don’t amount to a hill of beans in these crazy worlds. Now at least I’ll always have Homeward. I didn’t have, I’d lost it, until you came…and I got it back…even if it is in an alternative universe.”

“Yes,” I replied, “I am a truly great elephant – but you are wrong – you are a noble elephant and one day you shall show the citizens of this world a better life. You shall rule over Homeward and Beaver shall be shown up for the villain that he is, for us Uncle’s are the….”

“Ahem” piped up the Old Monkey “better get going, Sir, or you will miss your tea.”

“Yeah, that’s enough speechifying – let’s get back to the fray and see if we can liberate a few barrels of Black Tom.” added Old Monkey 2 to my other self. “Oh yes, I've a thirst on me now that'd stop a stampedin' wooden-legged donkey” grumbled Uncle 2.

“Um, quite so.” I answered – oh well I suppose it is too much to hope for a complete change of character.

So, we bade fond farewells to our doubles and ascended into the air.

I looked down and saw Beaver Hateman burst onto the roof. Uncle 2 ran up, there was a sharp thud, a loud cry, and then the body of Beaver soared majestically into the air.

“Ah,” I said to the Old Monkey “A kicking up after my own heart !”

The storm raged around us and as we began to descend into the heart of the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower we were once more hit by a huge lightening fork and the strange static charge enveloped us.

As we came through the blue mist at the top of the tower we could hear cheering. A crowd of well-wishers had gathered - much as they had when we first embarked on our adventure. Cowgill rushed to greet us. “How marvelous of you to be here to greet us on our return.” I remarked to him. “Sorry?, how do you mean, Sir?” he said looking at me as if I were mad “You only left 20 minutes ago.”

So, although we had been gone 2 days no time had passed in our own world.

“So, how about it then Sir? – is the mist just condensation? – shall I order the tower to be demolished?” enquired Cowgill.

“No, definitely not!” I ordered. I told him that the gas was dangerous and gave him instructions to secure the tower so that it could not be entered. I felt it best not to let word get out that there was a world where Beaver ruled Homeward. It would give our own Beaver ideas above his station and we could not risk any further travel between the worlds.

I have decided that the Cooling Tower shall become a memorial to brave elephants everywhere.



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Friday, 13 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 5



This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 5

We passed through the anomaly only to discover a topsy-turvy world where Beaver Hateman rules over Homeward. The Old Monkey and I have met our alter egos, living a dissolute life at Badfort, waging a constant battle with Beaver to overthrow his regime. They have agreed to help us retrieve the helicopter from Homeward so that we may return to our own world back through the anomaly.

We were awoken this morning by Cowgill in a high state of excitement. Conditions were perfect, apparently, for our return through the anomaly. Dark clouds had formed overnight and a storm was brewing. These conditions matched exactly the weather patterns that existed when we came through the anomaly from our world.

Uncle 2 and his followers were in a high state of preparation for the battle that would ensue with Beaver. They were running around collecting duck bombs, crossbows and assorted weaponry. It was odd to see so many faces I recognized – but in this world all wearing sackcloth. A garb that I had long come to associate with Beaver and his gang.

Old Monkey 2, as I had come to call him, was sorting through a pile of skewers. “Don’t worry posh Unc, we will soon have you on your way home !” he declared.

I began to discuss battle plans with my doppelganger. Knowing Homeward so well, I was able to point out a secret tunnel into the courtyard that I knew Beaver would be unaware of. It was one I had explored myself, that even Wizard Blenkinsop had never discovered.

“Excellent !” cried my alter ego “We will take them by surprise! The anniversary celebrations for the May 68 uprising, when Beaver and his gang took control of Badgertown, will still be in full swing. So, they will be unprepared for an attack!”

“They took control of Badgertown?” I exclaimed. I could not believe my ears.

“Yes, and they have run it ever since. The King of the Badgers was sent into exile.” he replied “Things must be very different in your world – I like the sound of it” he murmured on seeing my shocked expression.

I must say I shed a tear for my old friend, the King of the Badgers, I would never begrudge him a loan again. If I ever got back home.

We made our way down the tunnel and as we approached the courtyard I could hear the familiar strains of ‘Hail to Glorious Uncle’ from a brass band above us. “So, I must still be loved by the citizens of Homeward!” I declared. My other self looked at me as if I were mad. “That’s Beaver’s anthem, you fool, he makes them play it at all his jamborees.

Then I heard familiar lyrics being sang – but the alterations to the words made my blood boil.

“We love to hear of Beaver’s deeds;
He makes us feel so glad;
His bounty makes the poor man rich
And fills with joy the sad.

He taxes fat elephants and gives to those in need;
His Five Year Plan benefits us all;
How vast the stores of Scob Fish and lard….”

It went on like this for ages extolling the virtues of that creature Beaver. What humbug!

Beaver began his speech.

“Friends, we are here to celebrate the glorious victory of ‘The Badfort Popular Front’ over the forces of oppression. Namely, that debauched of all monarchies, The King of the Badgers. If he was still in charge you would still be indebted to, and under the thumb of, that fat elephant Uncle. I can reveal to you now – that, under my firm guidance, the Five Year plan has been a resounding success. This means that, as you pass over the drawbridge on the way home, you will receive a new half-crown. Freshly minted with my face on it. You will find plenty of provisions, so eat as much as you want. Be happy! Long Live the Revolution!”

There was deafening applause – and under cover of the noise we attacked.

Like an avalanche we were upon them. A terrible fight ensued with crossbow twanging and Duck Bombs splattering. In the midst of the melee Uncle 2 grabbed me. “Quick, whilst they are distracted we must get to your helicopter !” he cried.

The Old Monkey and I, with our alter ego’s, escaped to the lifts and were soon on the helipad.

The storm raged above – perfect conditions for returning through the anomaly.

But, our doppelgangers blocked our path.

My double had a strange look in his eyes as if an idea had just dawned on him. “You could stay and I could go? We could take the helicopter and pass through the anomaly to your world. I would be hailed a hero” he ranted “It is what I have always wanted. To be Lord and Master of Homeward. With this castle I could rule the world. Yes. I would do it. That power would set me up above all elephants.”

At the final hurdle – had we been betrayed?


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Thursday, 12 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 4




This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 4

We passed through the anomaly only to discover a topsy-turvy world where Beaver Hateman rules over Homeward. The Old Monkey and I have met our alter egos, living a dissolute life at Badfort, waging a constant battle with Beaver to overthrow his regime.

Cowgill is also here – but it turned out that he was just another doppelganger of the real Cowgill.

His brain was as astute as our own Cowgill’s, however. We explained to him how we had come to be in his world.

“You say that you passed through an anomaly?” he asked and we nodded our heads. He continued “This would suggest to me that you passed through some kind of gateway from your parallel universe or alternative reality. A self-contained separate reality coexisting with our own. This is a potentially a very dangerous situation and my advice to you would be to return immediately. From your description of the storm taking place prior to your journey, I would suggest that you wait for similar conditions in the hope that the event will replicate itself.”

“That is all well and good,” I said “but the problem is that our helicopter is on the roof of the Great Hall at Homeward. I cannot see Beaver Hateman allowing us to just walk in and fly off in it.’

Uncle 2, who had been sitting in a daze of confusion, suddenly jumped up and interjected “look I can’t say that I understand all this, but from what you say, your life, in your place, has been a great deal more successful than mine. It is my duty to help myself get back to running Homeward. That has always been my dream. An elephant in need is a friend indeed. I shall do all I can to help you retrieve your helicopter. We were planning to mount an attack on Homeward, anyway.”

“Thank you. You are an elephant after my own heart, after all.” I replied, heartened to see the self-pity gone from his demeanour.

We spent the evening planning our attack on Homeward – I even forced myself to imbibe some of the Black Tom that was offered to me by my gracious host. He insisted on me telling him of my rise from lowly beginnings to respected pillar of the community and owner of Homeward. I saw the tears in his eyes as he contemplated this future that could have been.


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Wednesday, 11 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 3



This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 3

We passed through the anomaly only to discover a topsy-turvy world where Beaver Hateman rules over Homeward.

We have decided to take refuge at Badfort – seemingly my home in this world.

The building was as ramshackle as ever. Cloutman and Gubbins were hanging around outside the entrance swigging from bottles labeled Black Tom. “Watch’er, Sir, where’d you get them smart togs from then?” said Gubbins. I was nonplussed and angry. “What are you doing hanging around and drinking in this debauched manner?”
I enquired. They just laughed. “Blimey, Sir, you sound just like Beaver Hateman – good impression – like we was your party apparatchiks!” said Cloutman.

We decided to enter the inner sanctum – Beaver’s Party HQ.

We were confronted by the sight of our, almost, exact doubles.

Slumped over a broken-down old wooden table was myself, clearly inebriated, and wearing a sackcloth suit. The only discernible difference was an eye-patch which leant myself a thoroughly disreputable air. Beside myself was the spitting image of The Old Monkey, again dressed in sackcloth, swinging from a light fitting and singing a bawdy song.

“Beaver, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands,
Lying, swindling and boasting,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some crime begun,
Each evening sees its close;
Somebody bullied, somebody done,
Has earned a night’s repose.”

Uncle 2 (as I shall call him) looked up at us through bleary eyes. “Ha, some relation is it? – come to help in the ongoing fight for regime change? Good! We need all the help we can get. Those damn socialists have been in control for too long – with their stealth taxes and bribery. I could have been a contender you know? It could have all been mine if it wasn’t for that damn unfortunate business with the bicycle. I told them I only borrowed it – but what can you do once you have a criminal record? So I have had to bend the rules a bit? What of it?

“Quite so,” I said “but one must remain in the law, must one not?”

“What submit to state control?” exploded Uncle 2. “Laissez-faire, my friend, Laissez-faire. What we need is an economic system in which individuals, rather than government, make the majority of decisions. And that individual, old pal, should have been me. We need a free market run by myself – not all this Socialist intervention by Beaver and his goons. That’s why we continue to do battle with the Dictator, the lying boaster, of Homeward.”

The Old Monkey 2 (as I shall call him) piped up.

“Yeah, you should read my articles in The Badfort News. I’m the Chief Reporter and I say skewer Beaver, the old tyrant! What we want is more Black Tom and fine dining and you can get it if you really want.”

Uncle 2 clearly felt sorry for himself. “I used to be a member of the Trunkingdon Club, you know, until they blackballed me over that damn bike! – I’m sure that Wizard Blenkinsop got to hear about it. That’s the real reason he sold Homeward to Beaver. Thought I wasn’t up to the job. Cut too many corners”

I was finding my alter ego somewhat exasperating. “Look,” I said “Surely, reasoned argument will win the day….”

“What!” interrupted Uncle 2 “What do you know? The inhabitants of Homeward have been softened up for years by Beaver’s handouts!
They are like sheep!”

“Well,” I said “actually I have some experience of being in charge of Homeward. I have run it for years…”

“You delusional pompous ass!” cried Uncle 2. “Are you trying to muscle in with some spurious claim on Homeward?” he added.

At that point Cowgill entered the room and did a double-take as he was confronted by two Uncle’s.

“Ahhh…Cowgill…” said Uncle 2 “How are the plans shaping up for our next attack?...are the duck bombs ready?”

I interrupted “Thank God, you are here, as well, Cowgill – Where in heavens name am I?”

Cowgill just looked more and more perplexed.


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Tuesday, 10 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 2




This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 2

We had passed through the anomaly, within the Cooling Tower, only to discover that Beaver Hateman had made use of the fact that all my followers were away to overpower Homeward.

The place was crawling with the Badfort Crowd !

We grabbed what weapons we could from the helicopter. Luckily I had packed my large wooden club and the Old Monkey had his trusty coconuts. He is an excellent shot.

Quietly, we made are way stealthily down the stairs to the Great Hall.

It was a hive of activity. Beaver Hateman sat behind my desk issuing orders and taking reports ! Good God, he was even wearing a suit !

He was in conference with Hootman. “So, how goes the Five-Year Plan, Hootman.” he asked. “All, is going very well, Sir, coal and iron production have both quadrupled their output, electric power production has increased and 50 new industrial plants have been built.” replied Hootman.

I could stand this no longer! The bare-faced cheek of the man….sitting behind my desk issuing orders!...

“Let’s get them!” I shouted to the Old Monkey and we ran from our hiding place as I wielded the club around my head.

Before I could get to Beaver, however, we were surrounded by his cronies aiming their crossbows at us.

“Not you, again!” said Beaver in an exasperated tone. “Don’t you ever give up? What is it this time? Another Duck Bomb attack? At least you have made an effort to dress decently for this visit.” he laughed at me.

He laughed at me !!!

“How dare you sit behind my desk ridiculing me!” I shouted “Remove yourself at once and leave with your cronies – my followers will be here soon.”

Beaver angrily rose from his seat and launched into a tirade.

“Your desk! Not that old chestnut again! When will you face the facts. I bought Homeward from Wizard Blenkinsop fair and square. You should not have been so tight-fisted and undervalued it. Mine was the highest bid. You and your miscreant followers cannot accept the fact that this is, and always will be, the Socialist Republic of Homeward. Well I have news for you – the people are not interested in your crackpot ideas about free market Capitalism. They see them for what they are – a means for you to take over and run this place under despotic rule.

I am tired of your incessant carping – you are always moaning about the way I run this place but you always turn up on May Day and Christmas for the free feasts don’t you?

You have no idea of the hard work and selfless sacrifice needed to keep this commune in order and running efficiently. All you see is the grand events celebrating my achievements. Well I deserve them all. The citizens have never had it so good – we are the biggest Scob fish exporter in the World and they love the Homeward Welfare System. You always get a few dissenters, like yourself, who claim I am siphoning stuff off for myself… but let me tell you - most are just not interested in your claptrap philosophy. Get back to Badfort where you belong! Here’s Half a Crown – you can get yourself some of that disgusting Black Tom stuff !

Lads – escort the elephant out of my home.”

At that he threw a coin towards me.

I was dumbstruck – he almost sounded like me !

We were manhandled out of the Great Doors of Homeward. Hitmouse shouted out to us as the doors slammed shut. “I expect that you’ll be writing some libellous nonsense about this incident in The Badfort News? Why don’t you just leave us in peace?”

I looked dejectedly at The Old Monkey as we stumbled across the drawbridge. “Do you think if we pinch each other we will wake up?” he asked.

I looked across at Badfort. My flag flew over the ramparts. “Well, it looks as if, in this topsy-turvy world, that is now our home – so let us head there. At least it will provide refuge while we try and work out what has befallen us.”



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Monday, 9 June 2008

Expedition Diary – Extract 1



This is a personal account of the remarkable journey undertaken, by myself and the Old Monkey, to investigate the strange anomaly within the Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower.

Expedition Diary – Extract 1

It is not an auspicious beginning for our expedition. The weather is unseasonably bad. A thunderstorm glowers over the top of the cooling tower. I have decided, however, that the issue of this blue mist within the tower has to be sorted out – once and for all.

Cowgill has prepared my helicopter. We will rise to the centre of the mist, hover within the gas, and take samples from various matrixes. I have no doubt that this will prove that the mist is no more than condensation and not of any specific scientific or natural interest deserving protective status.

Of course, all my followers wished to come on the expedition – but I knew there could be dangers. The gases could be noxious, the updrafts could create turbulence. I decided that The Old Monkey and I would go alone.

A large crowd of well-wishers had gathered at the base of the cooling tower to see us off. The whole area was filled with all sorts of dwarfs, people, animals and birds. As I pressed the ignition button on the helicopter the brass band began to play 'Hail to Glorious Uncle’

Also a band of young badgers began to sing:

We love to hear of Uncle’s deeds;
He makes us feel so glad;
His bounty makes the poor man rich
And fills with joy the sad.

Unfortunately, the roar of the engines and the whirring of the rotor-blades, as they began to turn, drowned this splendid song out.

The Cooling Tower has it’s own microclimate and as we ascended within it’s atmosphere the crowd cheered. We were soon surrounded by the blue mist and started to take samples. All around us forks of lightening danced around the opening at the top. It was then that one huge lightening fork discharged itself through the helicopter. I fought to retain control as a strange static charge enveloped us.

“We shall have to escape out through the top !” I shouted to the Old Monkey. He nodded his head in agreement as we climbed above the mist.

Suddenly, as we rose out of the cooling tower, the storm disappeared. We were surrounded by blue skies. Outside, it was now a glorious summers day. “Well, what an odd change of weather – most peculiar!” I remarked to the Old Monkey. “Perhaps, Sir, it is best if we head back to Homeward, rather than try and descend again through the mist.”

I agreed, so we set off for the Helipad on the top of Homeward. As we climbed out the Old Monkey drew my attention to the flagpole. “Look, Sir, someone has taken down your flag and replaced it with a red one!”

I could not believe my eyes. Had one of the Badfort Crowd sneaked in and done this?

As we made our way to the elevators, the Old Monkey suddenly dragged me to one side. “Quick, Sir – hide! It’s two of the Badfort Crowd !” he said. We hid around a corner as they strolled nonchalantly by. “Looks like Uncles not going to cause a rumpus today’ said one of them. “No – perhaps Beaver has finally shut him up!” said the other.

It was clear to me what had happened. Beaver and his gang had used the opportunity of the distraction of our expedition to overrun Homeward !



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Saturday, 7 June 2008

The Lost Clinkers Cooling Tower



Cooling towers are heat removal devices used to transfer process waste heat to the atmosphere. The Cooling Tower at Lost Clinkers is a large hyperboloid structure that is 200 metres tall and 100 metres in diameter and used to be part of the Power Station supplied by the Gasworks.

I am keen to pull the whole thing down and replace it with a big new skyscraper. I do like skyscrapers.

Skyscrapers embody many things, including technical achievement, economic prosperity, and civic and corporate pride.

Homeward, centre of economic activity and capital of culture, is unimaginable without skyscrapers.

They are as thrilling as the ecclesiastical towers and steeples of medieval Europe.

I would build the tallest skyscraper in Homeward on this site – furthermore it will have Giant propellers, like those of wind turbines, set into or on to the tower. Thus, the new building will carry on the previous function of the old power station and cooling tower – supplying Homeward with electricity.

But there are always some who want to stand in the way of progress. Unfortunately, The Cooling Tower at Lost Clinkers has divided opinion at Homeward. Many agree with me that it should come down but others see it as a local landmark and have started up a campaign to “Save our Tower”. It is quite infuriating ! All this fuss over a crumbling relic of industry best demolished.

They have even organised a competition for ideas on how the Cooling Tower could be reused.

Here are some of them - and I have to say they are pretty far-fetched. As for the Badfort Crowd’s idea, well, not surprisingly, it is an absolute disgrace.







To make matters worse the Heritage brigade have stuck a preservation order on the Cooling Tower – insisting that the strange natural phenomena that occurs at the top of it needs to be investigated first. They argue that the strange spiraling vortex of blue mist, that can be seen when one looks up, is unique and has not been seen before.

To me this odd anomaly is clearly merely condensation of some kind and I aim to prove this.

I am going to lead an expedition into the mist to take samples. Once I have proven the pedestrian nature of this gas – the tower shall come down!



Picture of The Strange Phenomena

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Monday, 2 June 2008

Wreckers !



Well I have had a lovely week holidaying at Wolf Lodge, as usual, on Sunset Beach.

It did not pass without incident, however.

One stormy night, word came of a schooner in trouble on the rocks.
It's two man crew had managed to get into a small boat but were in serious danger.

The weather was so bad we could not launch the lifeboat so we all rushed up to Rocket Field. This is where the lifeboat men launch rockets to ships in distress. The rocket contains a line so that a breeches-buoy can be set up twixt ship and shore.

The small boat that the crew was in was too small to act as a target for the rocket.
I am not sure if I have ever mentioned what a splendid swimmer I am, being rather modest, but I have received many gold medals for my prowess.

So, being the best swimmer there, I, somewhat heroically I might add, volunteered to be fired towards the boat. I then intended to swim to it and attach the line.

Unfortunately things did not go quite according to plan. The Old Monkey's aim was a bit too precise. I landed on the boat, of an inferior and weak design, and it split asunder beneath my weight.

Luckily, being such an able swimmer, the crew were able to climb aboard my back whilst we were pulled ashore. A little undignified but everyone was most grateful for my quick thinking and selfless regard for those in peril at sea.

We adjourned to Wolf Lodge and were soon comforted by buckets of cocoa.

It then came to light how this 'accident' had befallen the schooner. The Captain assured us that he had been keeping careful watch but had mistaken a large light on the coast for the lamp of the lighthouse. When we discovered his cargo our suspicions were roused. He had been carrying a hold full of barrels of Black Tom.

"Wreckers !" cried out, my detective, A.B.Fox. "The Badfort Crowd will be behind this!" added Goodman.

We set out, with the Coastguards, to investigate and before long came across a large fire burning on the cliff top. Then the One-armed Badger spotted a cart trundling away in the distance - filled with barrels.

Beaver Hateman's singing was carried across the bay by the wind.

Fifteen men on Sigismund's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of Black Tom.

Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of Black Tom.

Uncle was fixed by Hitmouses's skewer
The Old Monkey brained with a barrel
And the Foxe's throat was marked belike
It had been struck by duck bombs ten;
And there they lay, the fat elephants followers
Like break o'day in a boozing ken
Yo ho ho and bottle of Black Tom.

The Coastguards gave chase but they were well on their way to Badfort.

Waldovenison Smeare has made a painting depicting this despicable event.

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