BHS writes an article on Shmoo crisis. The Turtle replies. And more.
The residents of our neighbouring island have been whipping themselves into a frenzy and getting into a right old pickle over the annual prize Gherkin competition, natives of the island which is said to be among the most unprofitable in the world are said to have an ‘unrivalled passion’ for Gherkins and other types of exotic pickled cucumber, this competition which features categories such as ‘tastiest’ ‘largest’ and ‘most suggestively shaped’ gherkins has been held on the beachfront adjacent to the HUlA-LALA restaurant for as long as any of the residents can remember- our roving reporter Kevin McBevin spoke to one of the contestants, unaware of the historic nature of his conversation:
Kevin McBevin: What is your name?
Anonymous-resident: hmmm pffft What is *your* name? pffft
Kevin McBevin: My name is Kevin McBevin, and I’m from the ‘Shmoo Island Observer’ I’m a roving reporter dontcha know?
Anonymous resident: PFFFT! WHY I NEVER HEARD OF SUCH AN ISLAND! ARREST THIS ROVING REPORTER AT ONCE AND THROW HIM IN THE VOLCANO -HE IS OBVIOUSLY A SPY! LOOK HIS EYES ARE WAY TOO CLOSE TOGETHER, I BET THAT SPITTING TURTLE HAS SENT HIM TO STEAL THE SECRETS OF MY PICKLING TECHNIQUE!
Kevin McBevin: Err well there won’t be any need for that please don’t throw me in the volcano!
It was at this point in the interview that things took a turn for the worse, 12 burly Swedish hula students emerged from the surrounding palms and began to drag me, Kevin McBevin your courageous and roving reporter towards the magma spewing mouth of an enormous volcano situated handily right next to the beach andclose to all civic amenities, as I was being pulled nearer and nearer the lip of the volcano and my certain death-I called bravely for assistance from a turtle who was reading a copy of ‘Gherkin Monthly’ on the steps of city hall, the turtle who was obviously having trouble understanding my Shmooian accent just spat into a Turtloon(TM) and began to do a rather graceful and suggestive looking hula in the road in front of my captors, I can only assume that this kindhearted turtle was trying to distract the Hula Militia from this obvious act of aggression against a citizen of the ISLE OF SHMOO- at this point a rather harrassed lady in a grass skirt and coconut shells leaned out of the window of a neighbouring ’super luxury condo’ and threw a half full jar of pickles at a rather handsome yet mysterious bearded young man proudly displaying his erection at the end of her garden, when she saw me she muttered something and hurriedly slammed the window.
All I can say is gherkins or no gherkins, this constitutes a personal affront to the Island of Shmoo and it’s residents and having submitted my report to the foreign office and inter-isle combat department I can confirm that as of 12.00pm local time the Island of Shmoo is once again at war with the most unprofitable Island in the world, it is believed at the time war was declared that a spokesman for the KUMU maintained that Kevin McBevin was a pickle spy, and vowed to win the competition despite the outbreak of hostilities.
Turtle:
Caught on AquaCamera today, the Turtles are all beside themselves, of course polishing their shells with CilitBang (TM) making them impermeable to the Shmoo misile attack expected later today. Pink cute googles are mandatory for all Turtlinis in the UnRoyal Airfarce. Look out for the Spitfire Ninja fly-by, expected to boost morale before the Grand Opening of the Gherkin Competition
Lady Mayor has vowed that whomever it was who defaced the GreatGherkin display on Vinegar Street will be very sorry as there are not enough erections of such beauty in this unsavoury part of town – all melons and coconuts will be removed by a trained specialists at great cost to The Department of Urban Affairs, before the Competition begins.
All exploding gherkins have resigned gracefully from the competition and have willingly signed up to the war effort.
Pickles in general will line the streets of the most profitable town and General Pickle will make a speech, urging all residents of Vinegar Street to sing with The Pickled Eggs and the HulaHula Choir in a touching rendition of “A Jar too Far”. The Best Hula Student will debut with a haunting solo performance of the classic “Dill Will be Lost Without Me”.- be sure not to miss it!
News in Briefs wishes all of its readers soon to be nostalgic and warm war effort thoughts at this difficult and most profitable time. Bless us one and all.
BHS
Don’t forget at the climax of the evening I shall also be singing my own unique HI-NRG version of The Pickle-emes classic ‘When Dill I see you again’ whilst simultaneously hulaing and limboing, on the back of a specially designed float which has been decorated and built by the turtlini’s to look like a 28foot long extra sour polish pickle, then I shall hand over to the KUMU who will set off with grace and aplomb the celebratory Fireworks display which has been cleverly devised by our islands own pyrotechnics expert to tell the story of the great KUMU pickle of 1845 which was grown by Mrs Hester Palooma of Limbo Lane and bore a mysterious resemblance to our very own KUMU’s great great great grandmother the KIMIKALA.
After that we’ll be downing a few pints of Kumquat Absinthe in the HULALALA and heading off in our hollowed out palm tree boats
(also cleverly camouflaged as pickles)on the first top secret, highly covert, reconnaissance mission too the Isle of SHMOO *spits* where we will be depositing several undercover turtles whose mission is to form an underground alliance and report back any secret pickling information from the SHMOOIAN *spits* war cabinet.
be there or be thrown in the volcano!
The Turtle writes a song:
Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s a Lovely War!
Up to your waist in vinegar,
Up to your eyes in slush,
Using the kind of language
That makes the sergeants blush;
Who wouldn’t join the army,
That’s what we all enquire,
Don’t we pity the poor pickles
Sitting beside the fire ?
Chorus:
Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s a lovely war,
Who wouldn’t be a gherkin soldier, eh ?
Oh, it’s a shame to take the pay.
As soon as reveille has gone
We feel just as heavy as lead,
But we never get up till the sergeant
Brings our pickled breakfast up to bed.
What do you want with pickled eggs and ham
When you’ve got plum and gherkin jam ?
Form fours! Right turn!
How shall we spend the money we earn ?
Chorus
When does a soldier grumble ?
When does a soldier make a fuss ?
No one is more contented
In all the world than us.
Oh, it’s a cushy life, boys,
Really, we love it so;
Once a fellow was sent on leave
And simply refused to go.
Chorus
Come to the cook-house door, boys,
Sniff at the lovely stew,
Who is it says the colonel
Gets better gherkins than you ?
Any complaints this morning?
Do we complain ? Not we.
What’s the matter with lumps of gherkin
Floating around the tea ?
Chorus
From Shay, Pious Friends and Drunken Companions
WW1 song adapted by The Picked Eggs
