Not Guilty!

Never one to be outdone by his older brother, my youngest son asked me to post his sketch of Mr.T!

Perhaps I should give them their own blogs, then they can stop pestering me to put stuff on mine!

(Though I just realised that means I'll be maintaining 3 blogs! Aaaargh!! Just hope the Missus doesn't want one as well!) : o

Since November 3rd 1938, when the Jemlyn family fled their ancestral pile in Warwickshire amid mysterious circumstances, Marsell Castle had lain empty and derelict.

Until 2003, when multi-billionaire Osmek Karbalukimanibalinskirinskaminsk bought the freehold to this dilapidated ruin, intent on transforming it into a luxury residence for himself, his wives, extended family and numerous well-to-do hangers-on and renowned toadies.

All well and good, you may posit.

Yet the new residents hadn't reckoned on an ancient curse placed upon the estate following an hideous event in 1489.

Had the Karbalukimanibalinskirinskaminks bothered to integrate themselves into local village life, then they would almost certainly have known of the legend of ' The Manless Horse Head.'

In 1487, Emlyn Jemlyn, a wealthy landowner, found favour with King Henry VII after holding his coat at The Battle Of Bosworth Field, which earned him the noble title of  'Ye Goode Blowke

That Didst Looke Aftere Mine Coate.'

Never one to pass up an opportunity, Emlyn Jemlyn proceeded to take advantage of this Royal endorsement in order to increase his wealth, and his standing in courtly society.

However, time would see Jemlyn abuse his noble position and upset one of the King's favourite knights, Sir Feit of Onyunze, who challenged Jemlyn in mortal combat. The two men faced each other at dawn, mounted on their finest steeds.  Sir Feit stood proud on his horse, 'Pansy', ready to defend his honour, and that of his King and country.  Jemlyn faced him on his own fine mount, 'Malcolm'.  As the charge started in the cold October air, steam blew from the nostrils of the mighty horses as they thundered towards eachother, their riders bent on who knows what?, revenge, honour, sadism, fame, chocolate?  As they closed on one another, Sir Feit swung his huge sword at Jemlyn who, craven scoundrel that he was, ducked at the last second.  The blow instead took Malcolm's head clean off.  Appalled at his terrible mistake, as he was rather fond of horses, Sir Feit dismounted to attend to the poor creature.  As the cowardly Jemlyn slunk away, Sir Feit cursed him for the lily-livered milquetoast that he undoubtedly was. It was said thereafter that the unearthly spectre of Malcolm's head could be seen roaming the Jemlyn estate in search of his former master to exact it's horrible revenge.  Emlyn Jemlyn  himself died an ignominious death when he was thrashed within an inch of his life after relieving himself on a Bishop after a week long drinking spree. He would have survived, but unfortunately the inch was on the wrong side. Almost nothing is known of the Jemlyn family in the intervening period, until 1938, when police found the housekeeper of Marsell Castle, Miss Barbara Marber wandering in the road babbling inanely.  When they investigated  the castle, it was completely deserted, yet nothing had been disturbed and the breakfast was still on the dining table half-eaten.  No trace of the Jemlyns was ever found, and Miss Marber never recovered, dying in an institution in 1957. Marsell Castle spent the next 65 years a boarded up shell until it's 5 year multi-million pound restoration was completed earlier this year.  However, no sooner had the Karbalukimanibalinskirinskaminsks moved in, than they began to witness strange phenomena.

"It was the children who noticed it first." they agreed. 

"At first we are thinking they are just having the strange dreams as a result of settling in to new surroundings, but then we are starting to hear the noises."

The family went on to explain that at first they were aware of the sound of distant hooves and the odd bit of neighing, but thought it was from a nearby stables.

It was only when their staff started to resign in droves that they realised that something was very amiss.  It was only on the 3rd of May, after sleeping fitfully that Mrs. Karbalukimanibalinskirinskaminsk decided to get herself a glass of water.  As she returned to her bedroom, she was confronted on the landing by an hideous apparition.  She still cannot bring herself to describe it, but her husband told us,  "She scream and is dropping the glass of water, so I am rushing out onto the landing to see what is up."

So, did he see it too?

"For sure! I see it as clear as what it is that I am being here now talking with you." He said. 

And what was this supernatural vision?

"It was being the horse head, not the horse, just his head. I am telling you he is not looking like the happy horse.  He is having the glowing red eyes, steamy nostril and the blood dripping from the neck. I see his teeth and they gnash. He also is having the frothies from his mouth."

So, what happened next?

"I am so scary, I am, how you say, rooting on the spot? But the horse is not move.  He is just look me up and down, then making the whinny and go away through the window."

Did anyone else in the castle see the ghoul again?

"No way! We are out of there like the shootings, still in the night clothes. We are not going back since."

So what will the family do now?

"We are stay in the hotel until we can sell the castle. My wife, she don't got any of the nerves left."

Surely it's going to be difficult to sell such a property in the current economic climate, even without the gruesome heritage that Marsell Castle bears?

We spoke to Dave Payving from Tyrde & DeMochanelle estate agents,

"Obviously things are a bit slow at the moment, but I'm confident that we can close a deal on this property."

Even with it's gruesome history?

"Oh yeah! Obviously we won't tell the client it's haunted."

You won't?

"No, it might put them off.  Obviously we'll tell them if they ask."

You really think someone will buy it?

"Oh yeah, some idiot will stump up the readies!...erm, you're not going to print that bit, are you?"

A Monday Bonus Picture, Just For You.

This is a picture I did last week as a piece of seasonal 'fan art', to impress my good friend Sherief Hassan over at puffinclubarchive.blogspot.com , who is doing sterling work restoring old Puffin Club ephemera. Go and check it out, whether an old Puffineer or not, it's a treat to see the work of Jill McDonald. There's also some cracking Quentin Blake work on there too!  I should point out that the Puffin Club and associated characters are the copyright of Penguin Books, just to be on the safe side! : )

And Finally For Today-A Little Doodle.

Wind Of The Week.

sirocco n, pl siroccos. a hot, oppressive and often dusty wind usually occurring in spring, beginning in N Africa and reaching S Europe. ORIG C17: from It., from Ar. sharq east wind.

I was going to do flatulence, but I thought that was too much of a cheap laugh!

Work-shy Alan Bendicote was the latest addition to the unemployment figures yesterday after his exasperated employers were forced to dismiss him from his post as a Flange Technician in a cracker factory. It is believed that Bendicote, or “Bendy” as his colleagues unaffectionately knew him, may hold the record for the greatest number of spurious excuses for absence since records began in 

1947. His latest excuse for being six weeks late back from a family holiday in Scotland, was that he got his head stuck.

"When he  phoned to tell us he had got his head stuck,” said Bendicote's line-manager Roger Lamprey, “We assumed that he meant in some railings, or a small gap or something.  But when he finally came back, he claimed that he had actually got his head stuck in Scotland itself!”

Lamprey added, “I know it's a small country, and I've never actually been there myself, but I would imagine that it would be pretty hard to get your head stuck in it.  All the photos I've ever seen seem to portray wild open countryside

and mountains, which is what made me suspicious of his explanation.  So I referred him to the Manager.”

And what did the Manager of Cranborne's Comestible Co. Mr. Duncan Biscuits make of this strange claim?

"At first I wasn't sure, as I also have never visited Scotland myself, but there was something about his story that didn't quite ring true.  We've had problems with this chap before, so I decided to err on the side of caution and bring him into the office to have it out with him.”

And what did he say?

"He claimed that he was crossing the border back into England and his head simply got stuck.”

"In Scotland?”

"Yes, so he couldn't get back in time for work.  I asked why it had taken six weeks to get him out, and he blamed the language barrier.  He said the Scottish firemen couldn't understand what he was saying.”

So did Mr. Biscuits believe this story.?

"Well, no.  That's why I sacked him.”

Mr. Bendicote has had a long history of such behaviour.  In 1989 he was fired from a job at The Ministry of Carpet Relations, after claiming 6 months of sick pay for an accident suffered while on a Beef-Tasting holiday in Argentina.  When he finally returned to his post 3 years later, his legs had miraculously grown back. On another occasion, Bendicote failed to return from a weekend in Clacton without informing his employer.  When he finally turned up after several weeks, he informed his boss that his mother had died and he had been arranging the funeral.  It was only when his boss asked, “What, again?”, 

that he realised he had used this excuse three times before.  He was dismissed on the spot.

We asked for an interview with the inveterate slacker, but he hasn't turned up yet.

Mr.Teacup.

Don't even ask!

My son made me promise to post this. We had a lovely time yesterday, playing exquisite corpses, and also I would do a partial sketch, and the boys would finish them. This is one of the results!

Wold Of The Week.

Countryside n a rural area or its population.

Well that's what it says in my dictionary, though I've never heard the population of a rural area referred to as 'The countryside'?!

Residents of Romford, Essex were surprised last Tuesday evening to see a fleet of U.F.O.s hovering over the town. Strange shimmering lights were seen floating above South Street at about 10:30pm.  Several local residents were interviewed at the scene.  One of them, local Roof-Worrier Kevin Bevin said,"It was about 11 O'clock, and we'd just come aht of The Old Oak when Vinnie looks up and says, 'Ere wass 'at?' and sorta points at the sky. When I looks up, there's hundreds of 'em sorta just floatin' abaht 'n' stuff.” And what did Mr. Bevin make of this strange sight? "Dunno mate, I was too pissed to care, so I went for a kebab.”Another passer-by, Hayley Bailey (24) was slightly more concerned, "Like, I'd just come out the club, right? and my mate there, Minga, said, right? 'What the **** is that?' and I said like, whatchoo talking abaht? Then I looked up an saw all these fings floatin' around and I fort it wos aliens or summink.  It wos, like, really scary and that.” A barely more coherent account was provided by 72 year old Mrs. Phylis Willis. "Well, I was just about to get onto the bus after finishing my Tae Kwon Do lesson, when I saw a group of people looking up. I asked a young lady what was going on, and she said something about strange lights glittering in the sky, but if you ask me, she was probably a bit worse for wear.”

So did Mrs. Willis not see the mysterious lights? "No dear, I didn't 'ave me specs on.” was her telling reply. 

"I believe this to be a further example of covert M.O.D. test flights of secret military aircraft.”, said Charles Farles, local conspiracy theorist and probable loony. "The authorities are clearly using reverse engineering to build up a fleet of flying saucers.” He said. Unfortunately, the excitement was short-lived, as the mystery was solved shortly later after it had already earlier have began. In actual fact, the strange craft the witnesses saw, were nothing more than some stray ladies undergarments! A nearby ladies hosiery manufacturers, Tolley & Fumbler, had been loading a lorry with spangly, sparkly, and even glittery party-style panty-hose onto a delivery truck at their nearby depot, when gale-force winds plucked the ladies requisites from the hands of the staff, and proceeded to whisk them up into the air. Ken Blenn, the delivery driver, remembers it all too clearly." One minute they was in me 'ands, and the next, wooof! They was gorn!”

An inquiry has been launched into how this was allowed to happen, and the results will be frankly pointless.

Word Of The Whelk.

Mollusc or US Mollusk n any of various invertebrates having a soft unsegmented body and often a shell, secreted by a fold of skin (the mantle). The group includes gastropods (slugs, snails, etc.), bivalves (clams, mussels, etc.) , and cephalopods (squid, octopuses, etc. )  ORIG via NL from L molluscus, from mollis soft.

Ding Dang Doodle.

Another brief sketch from the back of my newspaper, only for YOU.

A 20 year old from Groningen has entered the Guinness Book of World Records as the feeblest man on earth, after failing to fight his way out of a paper bag, Dutch newspaper, de Volkskrant reported yesterday. The attempt was prompted when a drunken bet was made between Martin Van Driever and his friend Theo Koeken at a cheese festival.  Koeken, 23, claimed that his friend was so physically deficient that he “Couldn't even fight his way out of a paper bag.”  Spurred on by this rash challenge, Van Driever proceeded to climb into a large brown paper bag to prove his friend wrong. However, after 3 hours, Van Driever had still not managed to extricate himself from his papery bondage.

“Even I didn't think it would take him that long, so I phoned the guys from The Guinness Book of Records to see if we could get him in there.” said Koeken.

By the time they had arrived, witnesses had already sprayed the paper bag with water to try and give Van Driever an advantage, but in the end he was forced to admit defeat.  One observer noted, “That guy put up quite a fight.  He was thrashing about in there for about 16 hours in the end like a landed fish, but he still couldn't get out.”

Eventually the unfortunate man had to be torn from the bag, bedraggled and exhausted.

“I guess Theo was right after all, so now I owe him a beer, as a bet is a bet!”

Koeken finally added, with his arm around his pal, “He's a real good sport, and although I won the bet, he's won a place in the record books!”

Les Foulkes (32), a fence-leaner from Carlisle, Cumbria, was alarmed when after collecting his photos from the developers, he noticed something a bit rum in one of the pictures.  According to Les, “I had kept the photos on my camera for quite a while, as I only get them printed when it's full up. But when I looked at them I saw something that struck me as being a bit odd.”

Les showed the photos to other family members and work colleagues, and they all agreed that they could see a strange shadowy figure lurking in the bushes.

"There was definitely no-one there at the time. We had just gone for a stroll in the garden, and I thought I'd take a photo. When you look at it, and possibly turn it round a bit, and squint, it looks a bit like there's a big hairy man lurking in the bushes. Some people say that it's an optical illusion, but it's as plain as day to me.”

So what, or who does Les think this dark entity is?

"I couldn't say for sure. Perhaps it's the Devil, or a ghost, I just don't know. We're considering moving house, because my wife is irrational with imagined fear.”

Does Les not think he may have just fallen prey to the propensity of the human mind to seek anthropomorphic patterns in inanimate objects in order to find some sense of control over a world that is at best uncontrollable, and at worst really quite scary?

His telling reply gives us food for thought.

"What?” said Les.