Thread: The Rip in the Fabric of the Universe ...

.... Dennis, who was just shy of his 38th birthday, was trying to come to grips with the idea of inherited Monarchy:

"I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!"

"Shut up, will you. Shut up!" cried Arthur, grabbing Dennis by his shoulder and shaking him in a regally p!ssed off manner.

"Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system."

"Shut up!!"

"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!"

"Bloody Peasant", cried Arthur and he drew his sword and ran Dennis through, "That's how the bloody scene would've ended if I'd written the script."

He wiped his sword on the curtain and turned to the rest of the class. "Now open your textbooks to page ...

Hardly had the words left Arthur's lips; hardly had he sheathed his sword when a terrible, huge, frightening figure emerged from the side of the stage and, wielding her mop and bucket with appallingly swift, violent skill, she hammered Arthur to the ground.

It was the totally unexpected return of Mother Farcquar in her new role as a cleaning lady.

"Wipe your bloody sword on my clean curtains, would you!" she howled. "Take that! And that!"

She sloshed a couple of litres of dirty water from her bucket full into Arthur's face and hammered him fair up the clacker with her mop.

The audience cheered wildly. This was the best entertainment they had seen since . . .

the Headmistress had eaten some cake that had been baked by the senior class & presented to her on break-up day last year. She was totally unaware that one of the ingredients was a very special green herb. The special ingredient had afflicted her with intensely amorous feelings, which she decided to share with...

with Willie the gardener, whose love lance was often the topic of discussion during the lunchtime banter of the teacher and students alike. For it was not the size of the falus that warrented such discussions but it's ...

... curious shape and psychodelic colours (not to mention unusual phonetic spelling). So proud of it was Willie, that he would gladly whip it out at the merest suggestion from passers-by. "How's it hanging, Willie?" was all it took.

Little did they all know, poor Willie was not always so decoratively endowed. Once, a long time ago, ...

... Willie's tackle was a dull and uninteresting set of appendages but now it had a magnificent lustre! Loyal and regular readers of these adventures will not be surprised to learn that Willie was a firm believer in daily applications of that most excellent tackle-enhancing unguent - yes, none other than

Max Factor Knacker Lacquer
It Adds a Lustre to Your Cluster!

Sally marked her place in the book, closed it and looking up at the innocent children's faces gathered about her , said

"Now, children. What do you think about the intrusion of these very obvious product endorsements that keep popping up? Do they - in your opinion - detract from the integrity of the tale, do they enhance it, or do you think they have no real effect?"

Tarquin leapt to his feet, opened his mouth to utter a comment ... and was immediately felled once more by Augustin, wielding an economy size jar of MFKL.

Augustin said ...

bugger all as he was in awe of the hockey stick wielding girls who were about to vent their lust for blood and violence on poor defenseless little Tarquin, for unfortunately during the equal opportunity lectures he had been asleep.
There was the whistle of several hockey sticks through the air and just before making contact Tarquin looked around and..................

... was beaten by a blow. He cursed the old snagger with the blue-bellied Joe and thought to himself "what would Tom Roberts do now?". He whipped out his easel and ...

and, because it was a rather large easel & his sudden movement, combined with the easel's weight, caused him to rip off an extremely loud fart, which had the immediate effect of...

... reviving the recumbent Tarquin.

"I have been silent up until this..." he said, ducking quickly to avoid another blow from Augustin, " ... point. But I can stay silent no longer!"

He swung quickly upright, pivoted on one foot and delivered a well-aimed kung-fu (or was it a foock-u?) kick to Augustin's left earhole.

"Take that, you ..."

swine, but it was not a kick at all, for Tarquin was web footed and this was a rapid pirouette which served the purpose of fanning the noxious methane he had released into every corner of the room.
Everyone was repulsed and attempted to get out of the one small door in the room but....................

.. it was very small. And locked. It was very small, locked, and actually only painted on. "Damn those education budget cuts!" cried Augustin. He looked around and the only other means of escape he could see was ....

to see if he could reach his hand into the small dark opening and release the leaver. In an effort to see what he was doing Augustin lit a match. The cries of "Nooooo!" was followed by ...

... a distinct anti-climax as the match went out.

"Sod it!" said Sally. "I was actually looking forward to the big WOOMPH noise. My life is so boring!"

The words had scarcely left her mouth when, to everyone's surprise, the painted-on door swung open. It was, of course, a badly-executed attempt to disguise the Rip In The Fabric Of The Universe. Through it scrambled a motley crew of hornpipe-dancing hamsters, several survivors of the the wreck of the good ship Very Little Gravitas, a fretful and distracted Roger - scrutinising the crowd for any evidence of the presence of Staines - and several attractive female members of the French Resistance clad in berets, trenchcoats and ankle socks. They were pursued by the fearsome mop-and-bucket-wielding Mother Farcquar, who ...