Sean the Blade
Member
Gandalf, Gimli & Leg-O-Less huddled in a bus stop across the road from the Next distribution centre, were woken from their troubled slumber by the postmen arriving at the near-by sorting office. Gimli slipped from the shelter’s seat, stretched, broke wind & proceeded to scratch his posterior, the others gazed on “Sorry lads, but tha can tek a lad outta Barnsley, but tha can’t tek Barnsley outta the lad!” He winked & clicked his tongue.
Robbins scanned the road “We must make haste, find Frodo & Howard, every minute they are alone is another minute of danger for them”
“Look! There!” Gandalf pointed to a football, launched high into the air, in the distance “That MUST be Frodo”.
Breathless the trio arrived at the Manvers Monument, Leg-O-Less examined the disturbed grass “Someone slept here last night” he examined the many discarded Mars bar wrappers “It must have been Frodo, & he wasn’t alone” he indicated the pair of footprints leading away.
The tracks lead to a portacabin, advertising all day breakfasts & home cooked food. Carefully Gandalf drew back the door & was greeted by the odour of frying bacon & bubbling tomatoes, he spied Frodo in the corner with Howard. Frodo was tucking into an overly large cooked breakfast whilst Howard sprinkled a sachet of sugar on a bowl of cereal. “Frodo Blackwell! Where’ve you been!?”
“Hey old man! Is you dissin me breakfast guy? Or is you dissin me?”
“Frodo? What has happened, you’ve gone all chav & you’re speaking Ja-fake-an?”
“Hey guy, you better get some respec for me & my posse, cos I is packin your bling man” Frodo rolled up his tracksuit top to reveal the Olympic ring gripping tightly around his ample waist “Frodo, you must be careful that bling, that ring, is cursed by powerful, dark magic”
“Just chillax dude, everyting is easy bro” Gandalf instructed everyone to get Frodo out of the diner “I’ll call for a taxi”
“Who said TAX?!” said Howard.
The mini-bus drew up & the little band bundled Frodo & the ring into the back “What’s wiv all da violence dudes? Is it cos I is fat?”
“It’s getting worse” Called Gandalf to no-one in particular “He’s stopped pronouncing his t h’s now, he’s too fat to get the ring, the bling, off him, that breakfast must have put him over the edge. Forget Ponds Forge, we need to get him in front of the furnace at Mount Forgemasters, try & sweat him thin, then get the ring, the bling, off him”.
All the while, the all seeing eye of Sourface, the mightiest of Modders, spied on the fellowship, they were to be wiped from the records, no-one would hear of their heroics, or read of their bravery, Sourface would see to that. What sourface saw, Gotcha saw, what Sourface heard, Gotcha heard, they were interminably linked by the Licencefee, one could not survive without the other. Gotcha felt the ring coming home to him, suddenly mesmerised, he began the short walk to Mount Forgemasters.
The five edged onto the furnace shop floor, dusty slag forming devils around their feet, the volcanic glow of the furnace casting demonic shadows on the distant walls. Frodo began to sweat, & sweat, & sweat, & sweat. As he did so, the ring began to lose its grip on his waist, & as it did so he became more lucid “Hit it long! Hit it long” he cried “To Hendo! To Hendo!”
“What sort of gibberish is he talkin?”
“Nothing that you would understand Leg-O-Less Robbins” replied Gandalf McCabe. Slowly they managed to prise the surprisingly supple ring from Frodo’s waist, then with a ‘snap’ it fell free “What are these strange symbols ‘Property of Sheffield Teaching Hospitals, size XXXXXlarge – L Strafford’ this is not the ring! This is one of Strafford’s old gastric bands! No wonder young Frodo was going insane, we’ve been led a merry dance…” cried Gandalf. As he spoke Gotcha leaped from a gantry & grabbed the gastric band, instinctively Howard grabbed also & the two began wrestling with the huge elastic hoop. They circled faster & ever faster, each exerting more effort with every turn, the centrifugal force pushed them further apart, increasing the tension on the flexible ring. The ring gave way, the release of the massive store of potential energy catapulted the pair through the roof of the forge. Howard whistled towards Blackburn Meadows “NOOOOO!” He screamed “WE’RE ALREADY IN ENOUGH SHHHH…”
Gotcha yelled “WOOO-HOOO FEEEEL THE POWER!” He landed at the foot of his towers. He opened his eyes to be greeted by the size nine shoes of a detective sergeant “Hello Mr Clegg, I wonder if you could explain how you happened to come by all this ivory, by my calculations, about eighty million pounds worth…”
Robbins & Bird turned to Frodo & Gandalf “I think our work here is done, we’ll si thi” The two made their way to Meadowhall Interchange “We can get a train ter’t Tarn from ‘ere, did I ever tell thi abaht when I went ter London ter get me MBE?”
“No Gimli”
“Well, if ever thy invites me round fer dinner, ahl tell thi”.
“Is it over Gandalf?”
“Yes young Frodo, our job is done, it was all an elaborate plot to lure Gotcha away from the games, it seems. Remember, things are rarely what they seem, Gotcha is, & always will be, a southerner at heart, he doesn’t want anything straying north of Watford, least of all, money”
“What about me?”
“You’re from north of Watford, but not a northerner, so you are safe… for now”
Robbins scanned the road “We must make haste, find Frodo & Howard, every minute they are alone is another minute of danger for them”
“Look! There!” Gandalf pointed to a football, launched high into the air, in the distance “That MUST be Frodo”.
Breathless the trio arrived at the Manvers Monument, Leg-O-Less examined the disturbed grass “Someone slept here last night” he examined the many discarded Mars bar wrappers “It must have been Frodo, & he wasn’t alone” he indicated the pair of footprints leading away.
The tracks lead to a portacabin, advertising all day breakfasts & home cooked food. Carefully Gandalf drew back the door & was greeted by the odour of frying bacon & bubbling tomatoes, he spied Frodo in the corner with Howard. Frodo was tucking into an overly large cooked breakfast whilst Howard sprinkled a sachet of sugar on a bowl of cereal. “Frodo Blackwell! Where’ve you been!?”
“Hey old man! Is you dissin me breakfast guy? Or is you dissin me?”
“Frodo? What has happened, you’ve gone all chav & you’re speaking Ja-fake-an?”
“Hey guy, you better get some respec for me & my posse, cos I is packin your bling man” Frodo rolled up his tracksuit top to reveal the Olympic ring gripping tightly around his ample waist “Frodo, you must be careful that bling, that ring, is cursed by powerful, dark magic”
“Just chillax dude, everyting is easy bro” Gandalf instructed everyone to get Frodo out of the diner “I’ll call for a taxi”
“Who said TAX?!” said Howard.
The mini-bus drew up & the little band bundled Frodo & the ring into the back “What’s wiv all da violence dudes? Is it cos I is fat?”
“It’s getting worse” Called Gandalf to no-one in particular “He’s stopped pronouncing his t h’s now, he’s too fat to get the ring, the bling, off him, that breakfast must have put him over the edge. Forget Ponds Forge, we need to get him in front of the furnace at Mount Forgemasters, try & sweat him thin, then get the ring, the bling, off him”.
All the while, the all seeing eye of Sourface, the mightiest of Modders, spied on the fellowship, they were to be wiped from the records, no-one would hear of their heroics, or read of their bravery, Sourface would see to that. What sourface saw, Gotcha saw, what Sourface heard, Gotcha heard, they were interminably linked by the Licencefee, one could not survive without the other. Gotcha felt the ring coming home to him, suddenly mesmerised, he began the short walk to Mount Forgemasters.
The five edged onto the furnace shop floor, dusty slag forming devils around their feet, the volcanic glow of the furnace casting demonic shadows on the distant walls. Frodo began to sweat, & sweat, & sweat, & sweat. As he did so, the ring began to lose its grip on his waist, & as it did so he became more lucid “Hit it long! Hit it long” he cried “To Hendo! To Hendo!”
“What sort of gibberish is he talkin?”
“Nothing that you would understand Leg-O-Less Robbins” replied Gandalf McCabe. Slowly they managed to prise the surprisingly supple ring from Frodo’s waist, then with a ‘snap’ it fell free “What are these strange symbols ‘Property of Sheffield Teaching Hospitals, size XXXXXlarge – L Strafford’ this is not the ring! This is one of Strafford’s old gastric bands! No wonder young Frodo was going insane, we’ve been led a merry dance…” cried Gandalf. As he spoke Gotcha leaped from a gantry & grabbed the gastric band, instinctively Howard grabbed also & the two began wrestling with the huge elastic hoop. They circled faster & ever faster, each exerting more effort with every turn, the centrifugal force pushed them further apart, increasing the tension on the flexible ring. The ring gave way, the release of the massive store of potential energy catapulted the pair through the roof of the forge. Howard whistled towards Blackburn Meadows “NOOOOO!” He screamed “WE’RE ALREADY IN ENOUGH SHHHH…”
Gotcha yelled “WOOO-HOOO FEEEEL THE POWER!” He landed at the foot of his towers. He opened his eyes to be greeted by the size nine shoes of a detective sergeant “Hello Mr Clegg, I wonder if you could explain how you happened to come by all this ivory, by my calculations, about eighty million pounds worth…”
Robbins & Bird turned to Frodo & Gandalf “I think our work here is done, we’ll si thi” The two made their way to Meadowhall Interchange “We can get a train ter’t Tarn from ‘ere, did I ever tell thi abaht when I went ter London ter get me MBE?”
“No Gimli”
“Well, if ever thy invites me round fer dinner, ahl tell thi”.
“Is it over Gandalf?”
“Yes young Frodo, our job is done, it was all an elaborate plot to lure Gotcha away from the games, it seems. Remember, things are rarely what they seem, Gotcha is, & always will be, a southerner at heart, he doesn’t want anything straying north of Watford, least of all, money”
“What about me?”
“You’re from north of Watford, but not a northerner, so you are safe… for now”
