This week was brought to you by Banter and Farce June 8th 2015
This week was brought to you by Banter and Farce, Felpersham solicitors to the local landed gentry.
Lynda is still mourning scruff. If only I could have laid him to rest, she said. Lynda. Enough now. Think of it as a burial at sea, love. Let’s move on, shall we? Chop chop. Robert suggested a memorial in the garden. I should imagine the circular yellow patches on the lawn will be a fairly constant reminder, to be honest.
We had another episode of Carry on Up the Country House Hotel, when Eddie decided to thorw open the doors of Joe’s room for Baggy’s birthday party, or la fete de baggy as Lynda would no doubt call it. Joe pretended to have spotted two car thieves in the Gay Grables car park, who were Norweigan judging by the accent he was doing to impersonate them.
Harrasment carpet-burns is on the case of aunty cardboard’s burgulry, which he persists in calling it. He’s promised to keep a casual eye out for her jewellery while he concentrates on his finger tip search for Fallon’s bunting.
There was a hilarious interlude in a hay field with some pork pie and an egg. That was very, very amusing. That was followed by a startling announcement from Jill that she’d quite often ridden on top which made Ed look at her in a different light, and then we had a bit of coy nudge nudge wink wink from David and Ruth about Ben’s conception on top of the hay cart, or the Itchy and Scratchy show as it is also referred to.
Kate’s quite low at the moment, said Jennidarling and Brian managed to restrain himself from pointing out that it made a change from being quite high which is her normal state.
Heatherpet’s accent went into revolt again and she was slumped in her chair and unresponsive, said her psychotic neighbor. By the time the ambulance men had reached Heatherpet her speech was nearly back to normal. Really? How could they possibly tell? But then she was rushed back into hospital again. My money’s on that neighbor who always seems to be around when something’s going wrong. We’ll probably discover she’s Ursula Titchener.
Adam is busy sorting the pickers out. Yes. We all remember what happened last time Adam sorted the pickers out, don’t we? Charlie on behalf of Berrow Farm, is recruiting the entire village into Open Farm Sunday. Helen’s giving a presentation called ‘how I stopped worrying and learnt to love robot cows’, Susan’s giving a speech on cymbals as she misunderstood what Charlie said, Joe’s giving a ferret butter demonstration and Eddie will be giving a one man performance of Bringing in the Sheaves followed by Bunging up the Culvert.
One of the Farebrethren went out for a quiet drink at the Bull when Pip popped out from behind a beer mat and he told her he was worried about screwing himself before he’d started. I just hope he washed his hands. Not that Pip would care as she is still fully committed to her heavy handed flirting technique, which seems to consist of her breathing heavily and saying ‘it was really nice talking to you’ while the Farebrethren frantically invent unmissable appointments to try and shake her off.
Clarrie was outraged about le fete de Baggy, especially as Eddie seems obsessed with trying to sell the food he bought for the party, rather than just tipping it in the bin. Surely it’s marching around the corridors by itself by now, especially as Grey Gables was described as ‘hot’ by Adam. I’ve got visions of mushroom vol au vents riding up and down in the lift all day, giggling.
Aunty cardboard’s checking herself into Dignitas aka The Laurels. Not even the food put her off. They were eating cod in white sauce with mash and peas which is basically a big plate full of wallpaper paste that someone’s sneezed in.
Helen and Sausageboy found something nasty not in the woodshed, but in the van and refused to tell us what it was, annoyingly. What was it? My money’s on Jazzer’s copy of Big Knockers at Ninety featuring Jill riding on top.
Pip was momentarily diverted from stalking the Farebrethren by the prospect of her new job giving cows Brazilians before embarking on the treasure hunt. Toby drove off with Kate but sadly avoided a fatal crash. Pip drove along with the other sheepdog, Rex, who panted excitedly and stuck his head out of the window as they drove along.
Kate, who is old enough to know how to flirt properly, surely, did her usual half-pissed and sleepy voice to indicate that she was hot for Toby, who is Boris Johnson in a Barbour. Toby went ‘rah. Bloody nice girl’ tipped raddle powder in the pool and turned it purple, which was ‘larious and exactly the kind of bloody funny stuff that makes young, white, sporty over-privileged English men loved and respected the world over.
So a busy week for all, there. But at least now we know which Farebrethren we like. Vivax Rex! And we’ll leave the regina in the swimming pool.
