Open to Doubt

by Marcus Achison

  Exquisitely hand-crafted English corned beef footwear now available. Our stock includes gents’ meaty moccasins and beefy brogues as well as ladies’ high salt stilettos. Request our free catalogue for £3 per week or £4 per day.

  Extra-large woman with vice-like grip available for hire. Reasonable hourly or yearly rates. Phone Clarissa Bonce at The Skiving Bastard pub on East Buntyside 666.

  Local spinster Miss Gladys Mushroob would like her many friends (gay and straight) to be aware that as from tomorrow night she will be changing her name to Miss Gladys Mushroomp for purposes of clarity and tax avoidance.

  Local unstable resident Desmond Glabberous would like to announce that he is about to burn his house down. Would his neighbours on either side kindly leave their own premises immediately. Your cooperation is appreciated.

  Individually hand-crafted exhaust fumes for the discerning gentleman. All sizes available in 10-ton cans. Ring Blippo for price and tide times. Gubbenstery 911.

  News Report

  East Buntyside Pig and Mountain Lion Research Unit

  By our chief unreliable reporter Dave Anthrax

  Information leaked from inside the tightly guarded walls of East Buntyside Pig and Mountain Lion Research Unit suggests some very strange goings-on indeed. My informant, who shall remain nameless, has told me some extraordinary stories involving the work that is being carried out behind the 50-foot high walled complex with razor wire and duck pond.

  Originally, EBPAMLRU was set up to allow state-of-the-art experimental work to be performed using animals, in an attempt to further medical sciences. However, the truth appears to be very different. My squealer has divulged some incredible information which can only be described as hair-raising. He or she tells me that on his or her first day in the lab they saw a door marked No Entry, which was slightly ajar. In the brief glimpse they had inside, they saw a poodle sitting smoking cigarettes at a table opposite what they can only describe as another dog that was smoking a pipe. The dogs appeared very relaxed and were playing black jack. At that point, someone inside slammed the door shut and my supergrass moved on. Another dog-related incident witnessed by my stool pigeon was equally shocking. They said there was a fenced off area at the back of the building and one day they had a look over the fence. Inside they saw what appeared to be a man innocently throwing a ball for a dachshund to chase. However, on closer inspection, they noticed the dachshund was actually two dachshunds joined together back to back with both sets of hind legs missing. The “double dog” was about 6 feet long with a head at both ends and two sets of front legs. Every time the ball was thrown, each front of dog would try to chase the ball resulting in a cruel but highly comic outcome.

  As the months went by, my gossipmonger, who we’ll call “he,” began to notice more and more odd goings-on. On one occasion, he was going to an area of the complex he hadn’t been to before. En route he passed a huge glass window which revealed a completely white room and inside he saw a cat chasing a mouse. Nothing odd about that, but in this case the cat had been fitted with the wings from a goose and the mouse had been fitted with the wings of a sparrow. The mouse was whizzing around the room at lightning speed with the cat chasing it in a more laborious fashion due to its much bigger wing span. On another occasion, my blabbermouth went down to the basement for the first time and saw a door marked The Bowling Ball Men. When he looked in he saw four men playing some sort of bizarre sport on a basketball court. The unusual thing was that each of the men were naked and he could clearly see that both the feet and both the buttocks of each man had been replaced by bowling balls and they were careering around the court at incredible speeds chasing a hockey puck. He wasn’t sure of the rules of the game or the score.

  As my mouthpiece became more established at the EBPAMLRU, he, or Dr Norbert, as we shall call him, became more trusted by the bigwigs and gained access to more secretive areas of the facility. In the aquatic area, trials were underway with highly intelligent dolphins. Two of the brightest dolphins, Winnie and Beryl McAdam, had their mouths removed and replaced with the heads of Myah birds. This particular experiment had been set up at the behest of the Head of the facility, Professor Jim Zim, who was very keen to find out just how intelligent dolphins were. He said that because Myah birds could talk very well, they would be able to convey what the dolphins were thinking. As he put it, “Let’s see once and for all what these smartarse aquatic bastards have got to say for themselves”.

  At this point in his career at the EBPAMLRU, my taleteller, or Dr Norbert Scryne, as we shall call him, had seen many strange and unsettling sights, although he did still believe that work at the centre was contributing to our greater understanding of scientific matters. Some well-established developments originating from the EBPAMLRU had actually become part of everyday life. For instance, the subterranean mining kangaroo, the high-speed knitting octopus that operates the treadle loom used in the Harris Tweed industry, the valet parking baboons of North Hollywood and the elephants that go grocery shopping for house-bound people. All of these developments were benefits to society but most of what my loose-tongued fink told me seemed to be almost too strange for words.

  One of the most startling discoveries made by my whistle-blowing snitch, although we’ll call him Dr Norbert Scryne of 21 Putrescine Avenue, Tower Hamlets, London, is the way the projects are initially set up. According to my singing canary Dr Scryne, the scientists at the research unit simply sit around having cups of tea or whisky most of the time. They chat about most normal subjects such as the weather, football, transgender rugby matches and seeing who could throw a jackal the furthest. Suddenly, one of them would come up with a suggestion for a project. It didn’t matter if there was any scientific benefit or if it was completely ludicrous. The project would go ahead.

  In the past year alone, projects have been given the go ahead to explore such diverse topics as seeing how fast a man can run with a wheelbarrow full of bone china, the training of giraffes to be ridden across areas of quicksand, depriving a howler monkey of oxygen to see if this reduces its howling, the development of high strength automotive brakes which, when applied, can stop any car in twelve inches, no matter what speed it is doing, and many others. Dr Scryne claimed that even he was caught up in the whole fiasco and started putting forward project suggestions of his own. On one occasion, he decided to come up with such a preposterous idea that it would have to be rejected by the other scientists. He suggested a new type of sporting pastime where dwarves would race each other round a track on the back of dingoes and an equivalent version in a swimming pool with dwarves on the back of moray eels. To his astonishment, his nonsensical notion was given full backing by his head of department and a budget of £10,000,000. Trials of both versions of the sport are currently underway at The Nora Skunion Institute of Bastardisation in Texas.

  Dr Scryne recently resigned his position as Head of Advanced Hosiery and Treacle Dynamics at EBPAMLRU and is currently undergoing intensive interrogation by most of the UK’s police forces. It was during one period of particularly brutal interrogation at Police Headquarters in Port Saint Mary, Isle of Man that Dr Scryne came up with the idea of standard police issue boxing gloves to save wear and tear on officer’s knuckles. Superintendent Yoko Boko of Thames Valley Police said that investigations would continue until the rugby season starts.

  If you enjoy a laugh, you’ll have a great day at

  The Funny Farm

  By our out and about reporter Vera Mutance

  On the outskirts of Gubbenstery, near Stoolblood Lake, there is a secluded area that lies behind a 50-foot high wall. This is the Funny Farm. Established five years ago, the Funny Farm was the brainchild of retired veterinary surgeon Hugo Ratnage. According to Hugo, the Funny Farm was set up to educate the people of Gubbenstery and to let both adults and children alike interact with traditional farmyard animals. I was given a special guided tour by Hugo and encountered all of the inhabitants of the Funny Farm. In my own humble opinion, I don’t think th
e animals I encountered are representative of animals that would be found in most farmyards. Hugo said that his animals may be slightly different to traditional farmyard animals but are more or less the same. I came to the Funny Farm expecting it to be a child-friendly petting zoo, but that was not the case.

  As we left Hugo’s office we were immediately met by two friendly-looking billy goats. Suddenly, one of the goats raced forward and head-butted me in the groin and knocked me over. As I hit the ground the other goat got on top of me and jumped up and down before peeing into my mouth. I leapt to my feet in a rage and pulled an ear off the peeing goat and punched the other one in the face. They ran off making a strange noise. I asked Hugo what that was all about and he said they were just being friendly. My host then suggested we visit the horse egg incubator and I thought he was joking. We entered a large greenhouse-like building and to my astonishment there were about twenty horses sitting on enormous eggs. The eggs were roughly the size of a beer barrel and each one had a horse lying on top of it. The heat in the horse incubator was ferocious and I could feel my brain frying. Hugo said the high temperature was to keep the horses docile and to stop them wandering off. He then took two hours to explain the workings of the horse incubator as I sweated out all my bodily fluids. I was trembling with heat stroke and was down to my bra and pants when I had to tell Hugo to shut the fuck up. At that point I fainted.

  When I came to, I was outside the horse chamber lying on the ground and felt as if an atom bomb had been detonated quite close to my brain. It was then I noticed that Hugo had covered me in fresh, hot horse manure. He said he didn’t want me to get cold before I had a chance to put my clothes back on. I told him I was fucking roasting and probably wouldn’t cool down for another ten years but he seemed to laugh it off and suggested we continue with the tour. Before I had a chance to move I was set upon by hundreds of mice. They were crashing into me at incredible speeds and they seemed to create an utterly repugnant smell. Hugo explained that the mice were specially bred to produce copious amounts of a noxious gas in their intestines. They stored this gas until they were threatened when they would unleash it all in an instant out of their anus to power themselves away at up to 500mph. When I asked what the point of it was, he said it was so that the mice could avoid being eaten by cats. I suggested he would soon be overrun by stinking mice and he said that wouldn’t be a problem. He told me the mice are regularly harvested, pulped and fed to the horses.

  I got dressed and although I stank like a rotting corpse and had a headache that would kill a buffalo, I continued with the alleged tour. According to Hugo, our next stop was going to be a truly memorable experience for me. We entered a pen containing about ten large pigs. Hugo told me these were the Gumpigs. Since I wasn’t in the best of moods, I asked him what the fuck a Gumpig was. Immediately Hugo blew a loud whistle and began scattering what looked like feed pellets on the ground. The pigs raced over and devoured all the pellets, although they did seem to be chewing for a long time. The pigs then settled down and just stood about. I told Hugo it wasn’t a memorable experience but I was glad that the pigs were normal and I hadn’t been attacked or peed on. At that point, Hugo gave three sharp blasts on his whistle, which by now was starting to annoy me. “Shut that fucking whistle up,” I told Hugo, and he just smiled. All of a sudden, there was a loud rumbling noise coming from the pigs and they became agitated. What I saw next completely overwhelmed my brain. The pigs started blowing bubble gum bubbles out of their rear ends and the bubbles kept getting bigger and bigger. Eventually the bubbles were the size of a small car and began to elevate the pig’s hind quarters off the ground. A minute later the pigs were floating about ten feet above the ground in a tight hovering circle. They were right above my head when Hugo gave another three loud blasts of his fucking irritating whistle. I was just about to tell Hugo to shove his whistle deep into his arsehole when all of a sudden the pigs all started peeing. Somehow they all seemed to avoid Hugo but I was totally drenched in pig piss. “What the fuck’s going on here?” I shouted at Hugo. He said he had bred the pigs to do this to avoid being eaten by wolves. I was so annoyed I jumped up to pull down one of the pigs to kick its head in but when I looked up, my mouth filled up with pig urine. This was the second time today I had copped a mouthful of farmyard pee. “How the fuck is this of any use you stupid bastard?” I said. He said the pigs were on the ground during the day and floated at night to avoid the wolves. When I told him there were no wolves in Gubbenstery he said it was in case they were reintroduced. I told him he had a screw loose and he just smiled.

  I was about to leave when Hugo said there were still more lovely farmyard animals to see. Curiosity got the better of me so I traipsed on in my urine-saturated clothes. We reached a large pen and Hugo casually said this is where he keeps the ducks, geese, turkeys and pigeons. Sure enough the pen was full of such creatures but on closer inspection I noticed all the birds had four legs and were running around like small winged dogs with beaks. I asked Hugo what the point of this was and he said that when the birds were cooked, four legs were better than two. When I suggested that these unfortunate creatures were not ducks or turkeys any more he said it didn’t matter. They were going in the oven anyway so you could call them what you like. Over the next hour Hugo, in his infinite madness, showed me donkeys that dig tunnels, to avoid sunstroke, sheep that only eat dead birds to recycle dead birds, and rabbits that have been bred to have the mouth of an Alsatian, for guarding premises. One of the bastard rabbits had a go at my hand and nearly bit my thumb off. I managed to punch it hard on the nose and knocked it out. Hugo’s final presentation was to show me a large cage full of hens. I asked him if the hens were venomous or had rabies or some other fucking ludicrous scenario. He said they were perfectly normal and we could go in the cage and see them. The first minute in the cage was normal with the hens fucking about squawking. Unannounced, Hugo blew his bastard whistle and the hens took off into the air and flapped about just above my head. Suddenly they all laid eggs and they rained down on me like boulders and smashed onto my skull. I was pulverised by about 20 eggs and was in a right state. I’d had enough. I grabbed Hugo’s whistle and stuck it in his forehead. As he winced I smashed him in the balls with the palm of my hand and he hit the floor. I told him he was a fucking idiot and should be locked up. Before I left, I broke both his ankles by jumping on them and stormed off. As I left, Hugo shouted at me. “Don’t go. You haven’t seen the two-legged cow that drives the tractor yet.”

  Activities for the Young at Heart

  Enjoy the full benefits of tripe by ordering some tripe from The British Tripe Institute, 77 Goiloi Street, Valve of Morgagni, Italy.

  Man obsessed with breathing in steam seeks similarly stupid person for steam nights and afternoons enjoying flavoured roasted water vapour.

  Email: daftbastard@thick.dullard

  Good home required for otter, seal and beaver. Reluctantly offloading my three pets due to a sum of money going missing, leading to a disagreement with all three. All are fully house trained and are able to make cheese on toast, darn socks and perform light housework. Phone Miss Gorpo McAlpine on Scrutto 3333.

  Why not try Uncle Medwyn’s new style sugar trousers. 28 – 48 inch waist available. Liquorice belts and spaghetti braces now 2 for the price of 2.

  Learn Basic Home Surgery. We will teach you how to deal with most non-serious ailments such as in-growing toenail, dart through eye, missing kneecaps, asymmetric ears, gall bladder transplant and underarm itch. Phone Professor Barry Midgut now for free telephone-based tuition at £1 per hour + another £10 per hour as well.

  Cat with own torch seeks dog with own car for night-time camping trips. Phone Tigger Tarbuck at the East Buntyside String Factory.

  Black market monkey eggs for sale. Email Rick Spronce at rsgibbon@apeshit.chimp.

  Wide range of small electronic club feet for sale or hire. Contact Peter Scoliosis at the head office or Craig Narlarly at Bendy Simon’s Yoga Club.

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  Now Open to the Public

  Gubbenstery Castle

  The newly restored Gubbenstery Castle is now open to the public and offers a great day out for the whole family. The castle has been fully restored over a period of eighteen years by the renowned historian Dr Scronto Blorian and his wife Dotty. Scronto and Dotty have worked tirelessly to rebuild the magnificent castle, a project that at first seemed impossible, considering they started with one remaining brick of the original castle. The restored castle is now over a mile long and sixteen storeys high, complete with half mile high walls, central courtyard, spring-loaded drawbridge and three mile deep moat. The castle and surrounding grounds offer many sports, events and pastimes to suit people of all mental aptitudes.

  Tree Jumping

  The castle grounds contain over a hundred magnificent Scots pine trees, some of which are over 2,000 feet tall. A few of the tallest trees have been adapted for people to make the two hour climb up to the observation basket at the top and enjoy the magnificent views over Gubbenstery and the surrounding area. The return trip down to the ground takes a mere ten seconds as you leap out over the upper leaf canopy and plummet at over 100mph towards the super high tension trampoline situated below, which safely breaks your fall. Enjoy the dramatically high bounce off the trampoline as you soar through the air with all the freedom of a large flightless bird. Eventually you will land somewhere in the grounds, hopefully with your knees bent to absorb the high impact. An unforgettable experience.