PARTAAAAA!!!!’ and the blasting of his plane with buckshot from the naked mad Scotsman running around the muddy farmyard; diving behind barrels then popping out to re-pepper… before dashing into the barn and galloping out on a cart horse into the adjoining field, where he proceeded to do Lone Ranger rear ups and discharge his sawn-off at the clouds… it was initially difficult for Punchbag to recognise the ex Labour Leader and former Prime Minister.
Punchbag watched Gordon Brown doing starkers, ‘Yee-Ha’s!!’ against the skyline, and slowly climbed out of his colander… just as Bungo and the boys rocked up…. pissing themselves.
‘He’s fucking mental!’
Bungo tried speaking, but had to settle for leaning against Orinoco.
‘Occasionally aye,’ helped out Mac, ‘but there’s really no harm in him… he just does that anytime someone turns up unannounced. I think it’s a throwback to when Hewitt and Hoon tried to get a secret ballot going to undermine his leadership… it failed of course, but he’s never forgotten that he didn’t see it coming.’
‘Well he wouldn’t would he…’ began Punchbag.
‘Hang on,’ said Bungo, recovering, ‘we had a meeting and everyone agreed we wouldn’t do those jokes.’
Just then the top window of the big farmhouse flew open and Vanessa Feltz appeared in nothing more than a French maid’s bonnet. Her make-up was all smeared and she was waving a demi-John.
‘Where az my lickel pot-roast gone?’ she hiccupped, ‘and vat are you all doing arreaving without notice! You nawty Womnels!’
‘Alright Chosey!’ shouted up MacWomble, ‘he’s lost his shit again and is going ballistic in the top field… did we disturb your afternoon delight?’
Punchbag watched Vanessa titter then suddenly burp and barf behind the curtain. ‘Oh you nawty Boys!’ she said, as she reappeared wiping her mouth and taking another slug, ‘I will come down and let you in… and make you something delicious. Peraps le boys could go and catch im and bring im back to me… so that I might soothe is fevered brow.’ She wobbled her norks alarmingly, ‘for I know vat e likes.’
‘Will do Love,’ shouted back Mac, as Vanessa disappeared out of sight… to the accompaniment of breaking glass, and the rest of the crew unhitched and made to plod towards the field. Punchbag wondered what the proper etiquette was, and whether he should offer to help or wait in the farmyard… just as Orinoco came to his rescue.
‘Get yourself inside my young friend, we’ll be back in a minute… it normally doesn’t take that long… it’s just his daft half-hour… and like Mac was saying, just a throw-back to the David Milliband coup. And the two of them have obviously been drinking all day… so when he’s looked out and saw your plane he’s either thought it was a police raid… or another imaginary hit by the Chinese for boycotting the opening ceremony at the Beijing Olympics… which I know doesn’t make much sense, but that scrumpy’s strong stuff… and he’s not really the full shilling these days.
You see he was living wild for a long time in just his waistcoat and a hat before we found him, and set him up here to look after the grow. And you want to hear him when he really gets going… especially about all the gold reserves he sold off when he was Chancellor. It was about 60% of everything the UK had, and just before the prices shot up, which meant that if he’d kept it, it would have been worth 19 billion… instead of the 3.5 he got for it. However he now reckons that never happened, and that it was stolen by the big dragon off the Hobbit film, along with the other three from Game of Thrones. So in a nutshell… he’s having a few problems… one way or another… but at least Chosey loves him. They hitched up when we first found him and have been together ever since… sweet really.’
‘Is Chosey Vanessa Feltz then?’ asked Punchbag, ‘because I was wondering why she was never on the telly anymore.’
‘Oh! Right, I see what you’re doing,’ laughed Orinoco. ‘No it’s not Vanessa Feltz, although yeah, I can see the resemblance… no it’s Madame Cholet… she does all the cooking for us. But it’s an easy mistake to make.’
They both laughed.
‘I suppose it’s a bit like getting Clare Balding and Eddie Izzard mixed up?’ chuckled Punchbag.
‘Oh now actually they are the same person,’ corrected Orinoco, ‘that’s why you’ll never see them together. It’s the same bloke doing two parts to get more money. He stays as Clare Balding most of the time, co that’s where the work is… but then drags up and becomes a lot more feminine to play Eddie. And you’ll probably notice he also does something to his chin so it’s not as massive. Anyway… we’d better get off after Gordon… although saying that it looks like we might not have to…’
Punchbag followed Orinoco’s gaze to where the gentle shire was now plodding back down the field… with the naked, snoring Gordon conked-out on its back.
‘Let’s try and get him down Lads,’ shouted Bungo, as the pair clip-clopped through the gate.
‘I’ll go and ask Vanessa, I mean Madame Cholet, to run a bath for him shall I?’ said Punchbag.
‘If you would son,’ said Orinoco, ‘that would be great.’