Where Seagulls Dare 7 - 15.1.21

C**tgtasulazioningd to wwwwwh for shingling. PM me with a new slut sposa please. Meanwhereas...
Next slapperjack: Prediction/Intuition (chosen by Perry Wilsher). And my mother looked forward to lesbianism. It was her pre-dick-shun.
Leg closed: 15.12.21
Runners are nowt...
Score Position Name
4 1 Wwwww
2 2 Tiggy
1 1 Thief of bad gags, Playfull, Firkin

LONE WOLF AND THE GREENGROCER.

INT. DAY. GREENGROCERS. A SUAVE CHARACTER (DAVID) ENTERS.

GREENGROCER: Hello there my fine fellow and how can I greengroce for you today?

DAVID LOOKS AROUND CAREFULLY.

DAVID: The winters in Gdansk are remarkably mild.

GREENGROCER: I'm sorry, tomatoes was it?

DAVID: The-winters-in-Gdansk-are-remarkably-mild.

GREENGROCER: Happy to hear it. Now how can I vitamin you today? Mango?

DAVID: I say again. The winters in GDANSK...

GREENGROCER: I'm as fond of Polish weather as the next man but this is too much.

DAVID: For the love of God man! Plan B - The swans in Zanzibar migrate north.

GREENGROCER: You're making no sense! Have you been shot in the leg or something?

DAVID: The code word you fool! Minsk? Infiltrate larks wing command?

GREENGROCER: Best I could do is a few mangoes. Went off and picked 'em myself like a lone wolf.

DAVID: I'm the Lone Wolf!

GREENGROCER: That's all I needed to know. I'm actually Smith of the Yard, working undercover and you're nicked.

DAVID: I know who you are! I work with you!

GREENGROCER: David? I didn't recognise you with all those mangoes behind you.

DAVID: Finally!! I need the lockbox with the coordinates!

GREENGROCER: Of course. It's great to be working with you again. 'The Lone Wolf and Friends.'

DAVID OPENS THE BOX AND BLACK SMOKE ENVELOPES HIM. HE COLLAPSES.

GREENGROCER: (Russian accent)I'm afraid the coordinates have been poisoned; as have you. Double agent I'm afraid.

DAVID MIRACULOUSLY STANDS UP.

DAVID: (Russian) I too am a double agent and as we're on the same side the poison had no effect comrade Cabbagov.

GREENGROCER: English accent) One more twist I'm afraid. I am in fact a triple agent and I am working with MI5 so the poisoning stands...

DAVID COLLAPSES AGAIN.

GREENGROCER: ...comrade Mangonov.

GREENGROCER BITES A MANGO.

GLEN: Oh, Flossie, I didn't know you had a hamster.

FLOSS: Aaahh, little Flumpkins. I've had him a few years now - he's really getting on, the old trooper.

GLEN: Flumpkins! Can I see him?

FLOSS: Course, hang on a mo

SFX: PAUSE, THEN HORRIBLE SQUELCHY TEARING

GLEN: Oh, that's not good.

FLOSS: Not good? You just tore my hamster in half! It's definitely not good.

GLEN: That's not what I meant. It's what came out of him. These entrails, look.

FLOSS: What did you expect, a f**king Kinder surprise?

GLEN: You misunderstand, this is called haruspicy.

FLOSS: It's called ripping up my pets!

GLEN: Haruspicy is prophesying by studying the entrails of disembowelled animals. It's one of the ways I tell the future.

FLOSS: And it's completely - hang on: one of the ways?

GLEN: Oh, yes, I've got loads. There's tegemancy, which is where you chuck coasters down the toilet and see which one blocks it. It was the scenic view of the Ribblehead viaduct, incidentally.

FLOSS: Wait - you used my coasters?

GLEN: Yeah - Beverley Minster took some flushing! I also like fridgnosis, where I leave the fridge just slightly open, and see what rots first.

FLOSS: That was you that did that last week?

GLEN: Yeah. What went off? Was it the yoghurt?

FLOSS: Yes, it was the bloody yoghurt!

GLEN: I knew it! Course, that's because I'd foreseen it last Tuesday, when I kicked over your corn flakes.

FLOSS: I blamed the cat for that. I can't believe my pets are being tyrannised just for your favourite methods of divination.

GLEN: Oh, they're not my favourite. That's salvoyancy, where I study the patterns made when throwing bechamel at the Congolese chargé d'affaires. Course, that one's not always feasible. And is always illegal. That's why my spiritual guide, Swami Bartholomew, advises against using it.

SWAMI: [ETHEREAL] Hello.

FLOSS: Where did this twat come from?

GLEN: Oh, here's been there the whole time. You probably didn't notice him because he doesn't talk [BEAT] much.

SWAMI: Hello.

GLEN: Plus, his robes really match your sofa.

FLOSS: Well, I'll tell you this, you sooth-wankers, I won't stand - what was that?

GLEN: Probably water dripping through the ceiling. That's the main downside of tegemancy, to be honest.

FLOSS: I'm calling the police!

GLEN: No, don't do that. Start by calling a plumber.

FLOSS: Wait there!

GLEN: Haven't finished my tea yet anyway. So, Swami...what do these entrails signify?

SWAMI: Ah, I feel the spirits are saying..."you will encounter strife with an old friend".

GLEN: Jesus f**k, you're good.

Confused ending, not actually clear what happens.

Quote: billwill @ 8th January 2021, 2:43 PM

Confused ending, not actually clear what happens.

Confused post, not clear what it's referring to.

TOP RADIO 1 DJ VISITS FORTUNE TELLER IN HER TENT AT THE SEASIDE IN HIS GOLD LAME SUIT

DJ: Ooh, lovely Rosy Lee, it is I, young Jimmy, what is off the radio.

ROSY: Oh I am honoured. What is the reason for your visit?

DJ: Well firstly, I am wanting the services of your lovely self for some of what you call your prognosticating, upon my future, vis a vis will I get away with all my naughty business what I do in my camper van and in girl schools and hospitals and mental prisons and such?

ROSY: Er, let me consult the crystal ball.

DJ: You go right ahead my love.

ROSY: Hmm, it's unusually cloudy, hmm no it's very unclear what the future lies for you here, I'm just not seeing anything clearly.

DJ: Ooh does that mean I can carry on doing all my naughty business with no fear of being rumbled ever?

ROSY: Erm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm afraid I can't tell you one way or the other, not with the ball, it doesn't mean yes, it doesn't mean no.

DJ: Oh that's a shame that is, I was told you were the best in the business, young lady. Rosy Lee they told me, would be able to tell me right away what the future held for me. Now she tells me herself she can't do it, tut tut.

ROSY: Well, with most people I can! But it appears you're a particularly hard subject to read. That's a very good crystal ball but even it's having trouble getting through your aura of bravado and subterfuge. No, I'm going to need another method of divination if I'm to have any chance at all with it.

DJ: That's okay, lovely lady, any way you want to do it's fine by me.

ROSY: Ha good. Hmm, now let me think...ah yes, I have something down here that may be able to see through all the mists of your craftiness and deception. Now, just bear with me, it's in a box under this this table.

DJ: You go right ahead, my dear, whatever's going to do the job, eh.

ROSY BENDS OVER TO REACH FOR THE ARCANE IMPLEMENT OF VATICINATION

SFX: SOUND OF SUDDEN UNZIPPING AND RUFFLING OF CLOTHES

DJ: Ow's about that then? Uuurrrrrrwoooooooooourwooooooooourwooooourwooooo.

ROSY: Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrggghhhhhhhhh! I knew you were going to do that!

I think it's his entry. Er Billwill's not Jimmy's.

Alfred....if for nothing else, his spelling of the yodel.

It's almost as if Michael's tendency to write the instructions for this game in his own wank-flavoured polyglot language, and with the wrong dates, causes confusion as to what people are supposed to do.

Quote: gappy @ 8th January 2021, 8:12 PM

It's almost as if Michael's tendency to write the instructions for this game in his own wank-flavoured polyglot language, and with the wrong dates, causes confusion as to what people are supposed to do.

Oh well, at least we've got 11 and a bit months to work it out before this one's due in.

Mmmm, wank flavoured...

[drool]

Quote: wwwwwh @ 8th January 2021, 3:41 PM

Confused post, not clear what it's referring to.

Gappy's squetchy one

To quote Buddha, WTF?

So, was Bill making a prediction? And when does this comp end?

And Gappy, i think you should trade mark 'wank flavoured'

After that amen to awomen shenanigans here's my prevagination.

GOOD LORD

CHURCH.
VICAR and CONGREGATION.

VICAR Dearly begloved, and you, we are gathered here topray the new, politically correct Lord - sorry, Lady's - sorry, doesn't matter, I don't think one should be judged - criticised - beaten up - just because... Anygay - way... All rise, like the priest watching Tellyslimmies:

Our - or your, or anybody's, not a pob. In fact, no one belongs to anyone, free country - Mother,
wizard art in she-ven,
Hal - boy's name. Um - Sheila-lowed bee - or drone - thy Name. Which can be anything. Even Jocelyn or Nigel or One Direction.
Thy Queendom come. Women come too. I saw it on Youtube.
Thy Will - Sheila again - drone done on hers,
Ass or buttocks, titties or rather breasts, in she-ven.
Give us or you or anyone else this day our Sheila item of food that may not be degraded into a label. Labels are, in the words of Jesus, crap. They do not do justice to the individual.
Anne Hathawayd forgive us or you or - that's right - our or yours or - well done - tress or curl or indeed any hairs passes,
Buttocks we or - yerse - forgive them that tress - or, ah y'know - pass against us or - ffs...
Anne Baccroftd lead us not into temptation,
Buttocks Dee Dee Bridgewater liver or vegetarian sustitute us or - Jeez - from adamil.
For tiny's the princessdom,
Face powder, and the whory,
For adamr and adamr.
Ah, yeah.

Poof.