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Tonight with Toasty Lundqvist
In today’s Britain no one wants to have a barrage balloon inserted into his mouth, rammed down his throat into his stomach and fully inflated.
But that’s what happened to Zeb Trestrail.
Or rather it wasn’t. What actually happened was that a slinky Peruvian femme fatale named Alderman Horace Bocking enticed him into a stretch limo outside the Hôtel Exclusif des Stuck-Up-Prats in Park Lane and while they indulged in a fevered bout of showing their appendectomy scars to each other the limo crashed into an oil refinery because the one-way windscreen had been put in back to front.
But now a wheelchair-bound grandmother called Ning Ning Hai who has lived her whole life in a village in northern Cambodia is insisting she was driving the limo and tried to make a statement to police at the scene, but was abducted by a gigantic crow.
So, how dangerous is the gigantic crow problem in Britain today? We spoke to Valerie Phayled-Pee-Aitch-Dee of the Lundqvist Foundation for Vaguely Crow-Related Things, who told us:
‘This is unusual behaviour for a crow, I think. I’ve never met a crow like that in all my life. Crows tend to be very small, about 0.3 centimetres across I believe, and they tunnel through the ground using their flippers so you only ever see them at night as far as I know. But I must stress that I’ve only been in this job for two days.’
After the break: nobody fancies James Nesbitt, it’s all a hoax; and am I the only person aged over thirteen who really, really likes the Crazy Frog?
AIMLESS said…
I have educated myself vis a'vis the Crazy Frog since reading this posting. I cannot say how shocked I was to discover said frog has a square black penis, because my mother taught me never to express shock while my mouth is full of food or other masticated substances. Given the nature of the substance involved, I find I am in somewhat of a bind, as I refuse to swallow it and have no napkin behind which I might hide while I eject the bolus.
What to do? What to do?
AIMLESS added…
I found a napkin. Now I may express my shock.
Such a penis is an affront to the natural order of things. Not in being black. That is compassable in Nature. But, having corners! Great Caesar's ghost! It is enough to drive us backwards to the marsupial strategy of reproducing through cloaca.
I have tried marsupial existance. It stinks. Of course, this makes it little different from mammalian existance, but one must keep up one's standards, however meager, musn't one?
TOASTY replied…
In response to your first posting: when on the horns of a comparable dilemma, I sometimes find it helpful to ask ‘What would Lady Olga Maitland do?’
Well, when I say ‘sometimes’, I suppose what I mean is ‘extremely occasionally indeed’, but heck, you asked.
As for your second, this matter has been fully examined in the play Dangerous Corner (1932) by J B Priestley – who, now that I come to think of it, bore a remarkable resemblance to the Crazy Frog.
Facially, I mean.
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