Should I stay or should I go now?

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go there will be trouble.

But I fear that if I stay it will be double.

My followers have been urging me to leave. They believe the village to be a lost cause.

There is no doubt that the village has changed. Those cottages that have not been adapted into accommodation for offshore companies are now being converted into 'boutique' hotels for the wealthy tourists who come here to gamble and party.

The villagers have changed as well. They are no longer happy to live the simple village life. They have got used to the high life, going to 'do's' on the Russian oligarchs yachts moored in the harbour and playing crazy golf with Mr Trump on the seafront.

Meanwhile, Beaver lords it up in the Town Hall quaffing champagne.He has given himself the title Baron Hateman of Badsea.

I have come to a decision.

I know that the time will come when this dream world will disappear like the mirage that it is. The villagers will then need my wisdom and experience to rescue them from the nightmare which is sure to follow. It is my duty to stay.

I know that the Old Monkey will refuse to leave my side and Noddy Ninety will insist on manning the Railway Station to the last, but I have told Cowgill to organise an airlift and ordered all my followers to return to Homeward. For my brother, Rudolph, will need their advice and assistance in the smooth running of my great metropolis.

No doubt Beaver intends to make life difficult for me - but I will fortify myself with the knowledge that I am doing the right thing.

Calling All Readers

Readers of this blog will be as distressed as the citizens of Homeward over the recent disappearance of the village of Homesea.

Over the last two days we received two messages from Uncle, the beloved owner of our fair city, by carrier pigeon. However, no further communications have arrived.

The last known location of the village is believed to be in the Atlantic Ocean approaching the Bay of Biscay. A garbled report has come in from a British Royal Navy frigate, HMS Troutbridge, describing a dangerous piece of floating wreckage seen in a sea mist. The Second Mate was locked up in the brig - his sanity having been brought into question after swearing that he had seen an elephant jumping up and down, and demanding to speak to the Queen, on the quayside of a floating village complete with a church and church bells, gasworks and a railway station!

This appears to be the first news that the rest of the world has had of Homesea being sighted at sea.

Cowgill has been scanning satellite imagery, and reconnoitring the area with a spotter plane, using a grid pattern, to try and pinpoint it's exact location.

In order to ensure stability, in these troubled times, I, his brother Rudolph, have assumed command here at Homeward.

We need your help - if you are a member of the fishing fraternity, please look out for this village. If you are a Radio Ham, then we ask you to listen out across all wavelengths for any communications from Homesea. If you live by the sea, or are a regular beachcomber, please be vigilant for any messages washed up in bottles.

Uncle needs you!

By Order of the Acting Owner of Homeward.

Rudolph.

Taken for a Ride

We were having a wonderful holiday here at Homesea, but, my troubles always seem to follow me.

The Old Monkey and I had just had an enjoyable cream tea at the teashop in Mermaid Street, and were wandering around looking at some of the Antique shops, when we were assailed by raucous laughter and singing coming from the environs of the Jolly Smuggler tavern.

I recognised one dreadful voice immediately, wailing a particular vicious shanty.

“Uncle on his holidays
Splashing around in the sea
He is so fat the fishermen mistake him for a whale
Poor old Uncle caught in the net!”

Beaver Hateman!

It transpires that he and his gang have brought the Wooden-legged Donkey here and are offering rides on the beach to unsuspecting tourists.

Once they are on his back he rushes into the sea and refuses to bring them back until they have handed over the contents of their wallets or purses.

I will not let this spoil my holiday – I shall just have a quiet word with the Mayor of Homesea and have their activities monitored.

On being an entrepreneur

Mrs Slocombe said...

Worked hard doing what exactly sir? There seems to be, if not dissimulation, an elision between borrowing a bicycle and being a gazillionaire......

Entrepreneurship is often difficult and tricky, and extremely hard work. My passion for successful outcomes leads me to spending much time organising the available resources (mainly the dwarfs and my many properties) in new and more valuable ways.

If it were not for my huge abilities in this field I would never have been able to pay back the owner of the bicycle, which, I once, in my callow youth, appropriated for my own temporary use.

I think that a cheque for £2,000, six hundred casks of herrings, a thousand kegs of Turkish Delight, and fifty thousand first grade cheeses are hardly to be sneezed at.

In fact, he is constantly trying to persuade me to borrow his bike again.

Of all my great works I am most proud of the architectural projects I have sponsored.

Below you can see how this rather dreary Art Deco building has been tastefully modernised from a debauched place for the excessive consumption of alcohol into a branch of the Uncle chain of teashops.

What !

Captain's Log - Day 27

Having repulsed the invasion of the Pepperpot mosters, we were now puzzling over the appearance of a Police Box on Homeward Moonbase.

They are not an unusual sight - there are a couple of them on the base and, of course, many dotted all around Homeward.

But no one could remember having seem one in this particular spot.

We were examining the box when the door suddenly opened and a rather untidy young man poked his head out.

"Hello, how do you do? - I expect you will be needing my assistance to deal with the Pepperpots." he exclaimed, somewhat brashly.

"Hello, young man, I am Uncle and this is my moonbase - may I inquire as to your name?" I replied.

"I'm the Doctor." he said cheerily.

"Well, we have no need of your assistance, Doctor...?" I replied

"What!" he exclaimed.

"I see, well Doctor What..." I began...

"Who?" he interrupted.

"You!..you just said your name was What!" I replied in exasperation.

"That's not my name!" he said equally exasperated.

"So, who are you then?" I almost shouted.

"Yes, that's right!... Who, am I." he chirruped.

"Well, if you don't know what is your name, then how am I supposed to know who you are." I exclaimed.

"That's right Who, not What." he bantered.

I gave up on the argument - he was clearly an extremely bumptious and slightly deranged young man.

"Look, we have no need of your assistance - we have defeated the Pepperpots ourselves."

"What!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, please don't start that again! - the Pepperpots have run away. We don't need your help!"

At this he looked quite crestfallen. "You defeated the most dangerous aliens in the Universe by yourselves?....without my help?"

"Well, yes, it really wasn't that difficult, you know." I replied.

He looked very sad now, "Oh well, I suppose I better be going...", then he brightened up, he had clearly had an idea. "Would you like to look in my ship!...it's awfully special you know!"

He was clearly bonkers. "In your Police Box you mean?....alright I would be happy to have a look inside." I humoured him.

I walked inside. "I know what you are going to say, everybody says it...It's bigger on the inside than on the outside!" he shouted.

"Well yes, of course, it needs to be. Not much use as a Police Box if you can't get a decent force of coppers in it, is it?" I said, gently.

At this he looked crestfallen again. "You mean, you are not at all surprised?" he mumbled.

"Well, it's just playing around with the dimensions of space - isn't it? Wizard Blenkinsop has been making Police Boxes like this for years. Our boys in blue need somewhere that they can sit and have a brew up don't they? and then people know if they go to a Police Box they can get advice and assistance immediately. It's a lot cheaper use of land than having lots of Police Stations." I explained.

"Usually, people are quite impressed by my ship..." he muttered.

"Yes, now about your 'ship"...where exactly did you get it?" I inquired.

At this, the young man looked rather sheepish.

"Well, I sort of borrowed it..." he stuttered.

"Do you mean, you stole it?" I probed.

At this he suddenly panicked and pushed me out of the door.

The Police Box slowly disappeared.

"Hmmm, well I must admit I have never seen one do that before." I pondered to the Old Monkey.

Pepperpots repulsed !

Captain's Log - Day 26

Today we fought back against the Pepperpot monsters!

The combined forces of my followers and the Badfort Crowd launched an attack.

We burst into the dome of the moonbase to be confronted by what appeared to be a giant pepperpot with a sink plunger and an egg whisk attached. We knew from the description that the dwarf had given us that the egg whisk was in fact a lethal pepper spray.

We were soon surrounded by more of the pots. With their horrible grating voices they mocked us - "Resistance is useless, surrender now or we will fumigate you!"

"You are the ones who should be afraid," I replied "for you have made me very angry with your extremely naughty behaviour - you have clearly never faced a rampaging elephant. Nor have you faced the wrath of this happy breed of Homeward,("And Badfort" piped up Beaver), well yes, Badfort, as well I suppose, - our blessed plot, our little realm, our world - a precious stone set in the darkness of space.

It is ours and you shall not have it!!"

"You will obey!"came the reply from the heartless monsters.

" Come" I cried, rallying the troops, "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; we shall save the world!"

"The elephant is initiating hostile action!" their leader squeaked.

"Fumigate! Fumigate! Fumigate!" they all cried.

They fired their pepper guns - which, of course, had no effect.

For Beaver, for once had had a good idea. We had all snorted some of Gleamhound's Sneezing Powder prior to our attack. As you know, all Gleamhound's potions work the opposite way.

The Pepperpot's spray had no effect on us at all.

We soon had them on the run - and I must say that the Badfort Crowd's Duck Bombs (which, ironically, they had intended to use themselves to overrun the Moonbase) worked a treat on the monsters eyestalks and motive ability - the sticky contents of the bombs both blinded them and gummed up their works.

They soon retreated back to their flying saucers with their sink plungers between their legs.

I think that they will think twice before making another assault on the people, dwarfs, and animals of earth.

We were just tidying up the mess of battle when we heard a strange wheezing and groaning sound.

"Hmmm, sounds like the noise you make when you are wallowing in one of your mud baths!" tittered Beaver.

I chose to ignore this sarcastic remark.

We looked around but could only see a Police Box. These are a common sight all over Homeward, and there are even a number of them on the Moonbase - but nobody could remember seeing one in this spot before?

Flying Saucers

Captain's Log - Day 25

After picking up Beaver Hateman and his crew we made our way home.

They spent the whole time whingeing about the rotten time they had spent stranded in space and eating all our cucumber sandwiches.

I felt I had to point out to Beaver that he had attempted to leave the Old Monkey adrift in space. and that if they had not drunk all their fuel they would never have got into that predicament.

As usual he attempted to blame it all on me - arguing that if I did not insist on having autocratic control of the moon, along with all my other capitalist assets, then he would not have had to try to wrest it back for the people.

Hogwash! I say!

The argument was gently simmering when Cowgill pointed up into the star studded moon sky. "Look! a flying saucer!" he cried.

He was right. Above us was a spinning disc - making its way towards the Homeward Moonbase.

"All haste, Cowgill - I suspect that trouble is afoot!" I commanded.

As we approached home a dwarf suddenly popped up from a crater.

"Oh Sir, thank goodness you are back - we have been invaded by giant pepperpot aliens!" he sobbed.

We finally managed to get him to calm down and tell us his story. "They are unstoppable and have taken over the moonbase, Sir. They plan to use it as their headquarters for the invasion of earth! Any resistance is quashed by a burst of their pepper guns. I have been sneezing for hours, Sir, and only managed to escape by sneaking into some ducting and down into the tunnels." he explained.

Beaver piped up "Don't worry Unc, them pepperpots will rue the day they took us on!"

He had a plan - and I must admit it was rather a good one.

Beaver Claims the Moon!

Captain's Log - Day 24

We tracked the object that was orbiting the moon using the Homeward Moonbase Radar.

Cowgill pinpointed the exact place and point of time that it would hit the surface.

We decided to have a picnic and discover what this object really was.

As we watched it through binoculars I soon realised that my worst fears were well founded. It was the Badfort Rocket.

It skimmed the the rugged lunar landscape, passing over towering peaks and deep craters.

Luckily, at this point, it's speed had slowed to such an extent that it's impact with the lunar surface was fairly gentle and thick layers of moon dust billowed up cushioning it from serious damage.

It did, however, come to rest on the very edge of a lunar crater. As it teetered on the brink Beaver's voice came over the radios in our helmets.

"Oi, is that you Unc? - look, we have all had to run up to the tail end so we don't slip in the crater - do us a favour, we need a heavy weight at that end. Could you sit on it?"

The bare-faced cheek of the fellow!

I sat on the tail fin whilst Beaver and his followers all staggered out of the rear hatch. They all looked pretty much done in. Clearly their days adrift had left them short of food and drink.

Beaver got out the Badfort Popular Front flag and stuck it into the moon's surface shouting "I claim this planet for the People's Republic of Badfort!" and promptly fainted.

I cannot believe that he had the effrontery to attempt to wrest control of the moon from me in such an underhand manner.

I promptly let go of the tail fin and let the rocket slide into the crater.

If he wants the moon so much lets see how he enjoys being stuck here!

Lunar Excursion

Captain's Log - Day 22

Today we decided to go for a day out on the moon's surface.

The dwarfs prefer staying underground and go everywhere on the Lunar Metro.

Clever old Cowgill, however, has managed to repair the moon cars, that the astronauts who visited, left here.

I must say that, considering they are over thirty years old, they are quite nippy.

We decided to have a slap up tea at Malley's Tea Room (Lunar Branch)

It was great fun - it even has a zero gravity room where one can have fun pouring the tea out and then floating around to catch it in ones mouth - or trunk.

I must say the moon is a splendid place for a cream tea.

As we were leaving the Old Monkey spotted a shooting star - and said we should all make a wish.

However, Cowgill declared "I don't think that is any natural phenomena - I suspect that it is a rocket that has been drawn into lunar orbit!"

Oh dear - I sincerely hope that it is not Beaver Hateman and his crew.

Innocent Elephant

Captain's Log - Day 19

Let me make it quite clear from the outset, despite reports in the Badfort media, I had nothing to do with the theft of a bike owned by a Mister David Cameron.

This is clearly another attempt by the Badfort Crowd to besmirch my good name by alluding to an incident from my youth. I hasten to add that I have never stolen a bicycle - merely borrowed one. An unfortunate affair, which resulted in a poorly made machine collapsing under my weight.

It is true that descriptions of the thief appear to match mine - but I suspect that this is another example of the Badfort Crowd using disguise to besmirch my good name.

Anyway, I could hardly be on the moon and stealing bicycles from Tesco's car park at the same time. I think one has to admit I have the perfect alibi.

Talking of the Badfort Crowd - we are all wondering what has become of it's eponymous leader.

We were expecting his rocket to land shortly after are own but there has been no sight of it.

I am becoming to feel sorry, even, for that miserable Hitmouse. At first he was crowing about how Mister Hateman would soon teach us a lesson and drive us off the moon - now he just wanders around weeping and moaning about the fate of his leader.

I suppose we will have to give him a lift home, despite the fact that he was prepared to leave the Old Monkey stranded on a meteorite. In fact the Old Monkey has been his main advocate - arguing that for Hitmouse the revolution is over, with their leader lost in space the Badfort Crowd will have to take up normal employment.

I am actually beginning to miss that awful Beaver - life will become quite boring without him.

I have already become somewhat tired of my visit to the moon. The dwarfs have insisted on showing me around all their mining operations - but, honestly, once you have seen one moon mine you have seen them all.

The dwarfs like being underground but I am beginning to miss the wind on my face.

Trouble at Moonbase

Captain's Log - Day 15

My joy at returning to the moon was unconfined; I started the speech, I had prepared, for the welcoming committee of dwarfs on Homeward Moonbase..

“Gratification,” I said, “is a poor word to express my feelings at this moment. I am afloat on a sea of foaming joy and delight! For the time being, I will say little, but on many a long moon evening I shall expound to you with suitable words my feelings at this extraordinary event !... for seldom in the history of elephants…”

“Oi…what about the workers!” interrupted a rather insalubrious dwarf who was clearly somewhat unstable on his feet. The Old Monkey was right – they had clearly been partaking of that noxious brew Black Tom. How had they got hold of that stuff on the moon?

“I have, of course, brought gifts for you all.” I attempted to shout above the general hubbub, “Hams, Koolvat, bananas, and a bag of specially minted gold commemorative coins for each and everyone one of you!”

At this there was a loud cheer and a chorus of “for he’s a jolly good elephant”

I was most gratified, but concerned to find all the dwarfs in such an inebriated state.

I soon had an explanation – Cloutman strong-armed his way through the crowd holding aloft – Hitmouse!

It turns out that he failed to rendezvous the escape pod with Beaver’s rocket and had crash-landed on the moon. Cloutman had discovered him plotting with two mischievous dwarfs. Apparently, they had built an illicit still on the Moonbase and had been brewing up large quantities of Black Tom for Beaver Hateman.

Due to a mix up in the pipework the evil brew had found its way into the base’s water supply.

Hitmouse was unrepentant – “You wait till Beaver gets here – he’s gonna be furious if you touch our Black Tom!”

“I have no intention of allowing that foul liquor to remain on the moon – I shall confiscate the lot !” I replied.

Moon Landing

Captain's Log - Day 14

At the calculated moment, I gave the order to begin our descent.
The cyclotronic particles were reversed so that they broke free from the pull of the meteorite and locked onto the gravity of the moon.

The pitted moonscape could be seen rolling past, as we began to slow, approaching Homeward Moonbase.

Cowgill released the tethering ropes and we could now see the dwarfs running around below ready to grab hold of them.

The Old Monkey, on lookout, began calling our height above ground.

“Twenty feet….ten….five…”

I ordered the cyclotron engines cut and there was a slight creak as the dwarfs pulled the ship into its cradle. All was still. We had landed on the moon.

As I opened the door and began to descend, to the loud applause of the dwarfs I thought back to my first words on our original landing on the moon….

“That's one small step for an elephant, but one giant leap for those of smaller stature….”

They have, of course, gone down in the annals of history.

My, how the dwarfs were pleased to see me!, shouting and whooping!

“I never expected such a boisterous welcome!” I said to the Old Monkey.

I was not happy with his reply - “I think they might be a bit worse for wear, actually Sir, there is a distinct smell of Black Tom in the air!”



"That's one small step for an elephant..."

The Music of the Spheres

Captain's Log - Day 13

This morning the moon gradually filled the cockpit window.

Its stark beauty is incredible. We have been pulled in the tail of the meteorite and will now land precisely on time, 40 years to the day since we first landed on the moon.

I have my speech all planned – in which I will thank the dwarfs for their sterling efforts over the years and wax lyrical on the indomitable spirit of the citizens of Homeward.

This evening we broadcast an eve of landing message back home, in which I reminded the audience of Homeward of the importance of being the first to have landed on the moon and the great achievements we have made on it since that date.

Later, I looked out at the earth and the heavens revolving around it in sublime harmony - the music of the spheres. A serene order, just like that which I have created for the inhabitants of Homeward. But there are always those who wish to sound a discordant note.

I have been listening to a series of plays by one of my fans Mister Frank Cottrell Boyce. Full marks for effort - he is not as good as the great Sir Ernest Wiseman - but who is? (although, somewhat immodestly, I have to say that there our those who have remarked on how I reach those peaks with my own plays)

The series is called 'One Chord Wonders'and they are about those dreadful days when 'punk' music was popular. Indeed, Beaver Hateman claims to have invented the genre.

My 'Crystal Jubilee' celebrations of 1977 (the anniversary of my purchase of Homeward) were ruined by his antics. I had decided to hold a garden party on the lawns of Homeward.

Just as the band struck up 'Hail to Uncle' a discordant racket drowned out the band. Beaver was holding an open-air punk concert as (he claimed) an anti-dote to my self- congratulory back-slapping.

Dreadful - all screeching guitars, spiky hair, and the wearing of plastic bin bags. Beaver kept screaming 'Anarchy in Homeward".

I knew then that educated people would never again be able to face the universe with any of their previous serenity and certitude.

Later, over dinner in the mess, we imagined what life would had been like if Beaver had got to the moon first? Goodness knows how he would have squandered its resources in pursuit of the high life?

The Badfort Republic of the Moon? The Dwarfs would partying all the time on Black Tom !!!

Hitching a lift

Captain's Log - Day 12

Cowgill has had a brilliant idea that means we may still be able to beat Beaver to the Moon.

He has calculated the trajectory of the meteorite that is running alongside us. It is bound for the moon!

At the moment we are travelling at the same speed but the meteorite will soon outstrip us as gravitational forces pull it in.

Cowgill has calculated that by switching the anti-gravitational forces of the cyclotronic particles so that they absorb the pull of the meteorite we can hitch a high speed ride on the back of it!

We had a mighty feast in the Mess to celebrate - Ham, Cakes, and Koolvat. More good news came from home - the second volume of my biography has been published. You can purchase a copy here - I think you will find it an edifying read.

After dinner I looked back at the earth, like a blue jewel in the midst of a vast emptiness marked by luminous celestial bodies, and felt an overwhelming sense of universal connectedness. I even felt sorry for Beaver knowing how cross he would feel being beaten by me, again. Only for a moment, mind you.

Hismouth revealed

Captain's Log - Day 11

Our mission has failed. We will not get to the Moon, now, in time for the 40th anniversary of our first landing.

Beaver will beat us.

Cowgill has calculated that Professor Hismouth had us on the wrong course for the last four days.

Not all is lost, however, we managed to rescue the Old Monkey from the meteorite. Diggory Stigneev was exceptionally brave and, using his mining skills, was able to secure our rocket to the meteorite and form a safe route for my trusted servant to return by.

I feel extremely guilty now that I ever mistrusted the dwarf. He is clearly, a remarkable fellow.

As we sat around the officers mess the communication scanner crackled into life.

"It's a transmission from the escape pod!" cried Cowgill.

A picture sprang into life on the monitor.

It was Professor Hismouth swigging from a bottle of Black Tom!

“Hi Unc! Guess who?” he said, proceeding to remove his spectacles and moustache revealing…..Hitmouse!

“Yep, you old tyrant! You’re done for now. We beat you! The Moon is ours…and we’ll soon have the red flag of Badfort flying over it. Don’t try landing on the moon because you will have a reception committee. Over and out!”

We all felt downcast…until Cowgill piped up.

“I think there may yet be a way to get there first!” he said.

Meteorite !

Captain's Log - Day 10

We are attempting to rescue the Old Monkey. Due to Diggory Stigneev’s sabotage my old friend is spinning off into the void of space.

Luckily, Professor Hismouth has come up with co-ordinates of his trajectory that will enable us to intersect with the Old Monkey and pick him up.

It means that there is no way now that we can get to the moon before Beaver or in time for the 40th Anniversary of our last visit. But all of this is as nothing compared to the joy of being reunited with my most faithful companion.

I was busy searching the blackness of space when Cowgill rushed into the cockpit “Look Sir, alongside us…it’s the Old Monkey! Riding on a meteorite!”

I was overjoyed…but perplexed…Professor Hismouth had said there were no meteorites in this area…clearly the dwarf had been telling the truth?

Then, Cloutman brought news. “I’m afraid the dwarf is drunk, he found a stash of Black Tom hidden in the storage hold."

Black Tom? Where could that have come from?

As I puzzled over this, Goodman and A.B.Fox appeared. “Bad news, I am afraid Sir, we had the wrong man. I had my suspicions, the clues were just all too obvious – they all pointed to the dwarf. But I never bought the idea that the Professor was suffering from space sickness. He was obviously under the influence. I told Goodman to watch him and sure enough he saw him guzzling from a bottle of Black Tom.”

"Where is he now!" I demanded.

“I am afraid he seems to used the escape pod to leave us, Sir” said Cowgill pointing out of the rear viewing window.

There was no time to ponder over our mistakes – of immediate importance was the rescue of the Old Monkey.

Lost in Space

Captain's Log - Day 9

Yesterday, disaster struck. We discovered that Beaver Hateman intended to beat us to the moon, Diggory Stigneev had wrecked our navigation equipment sending us off course, and had then pushed the Old Monkey out into space!

As soon as the dwarf re-entered the spaceship we clapped him in irons. Not surprisingly, he attempted to deny his actions. He claimed that he had not touched the navigation equipment even when we presented him with the evidence of his own pickaxe being used to sabotage it.

When questioned about the Old Monkey he made up some unlikely story of sighting a meteorite whose gravitational pull had dragged my faithful friend away. “He weren’t wearing his magnetic boots, you see? – they keep you anchored to the ship - I told him he should be wearing them for safety, but he says monkeys like to swing about!” argued Diggory.

“He is lying” squeaked up Professor Hismouth “there are no meteorites in this region of space – I suggest that you lock him up in the storage hold, whilst I work out a plan to rescue your friend.”

I thanked the Professor for his assistance, whilst Cloutman dragged the protesting dwarf away. Clearly, he had been bought off by Beaver Hateman.

My immediate concern is to rescue the Old Monkey before his air runs out.

Sabotage

Captain's Log - Day 8

Today has been a black day for our expedition to the moon.

Firstly, we received bad news from home.

Beaver has launched his rocket in his bid to beat us to the moon.

Despite the speed of his Black Tom powered rocket we believed that we were far enough ahead to be still in with a chance of getting there first.

The ignominy of having our anniversary celebrations being marred by Beaver’s victory was too much to bear thinking about.

Then, Professor Hismouth declared that there was a fault in his navigation device – he calculated that we were already drifting off course.

He felt that it was also clear that sabotage had taken place. The extending gears on the telescope element had been deliberately jammed. The only way that this could be fixed was for a volunteer to take a spacewalk and carry out repairs. This would be very a difficult and hazardous operation as the gears were contained within a confined space.

“I’ll do it, Sir, I’m small, it’ll be easy for me and I have always wanted to do a space walk!” piped up the Old Monkey.

I was most impressed that the dwarf, Diggory Stigneev, volunteered that, as he was short of stature as well, he would be happy to accompany the OId Monkey as his partner. I thought this very brave of him and began to regret my earlier suspicions of him as the saboteur.

The Old Monkey and the dwarf went into the airlock and were soon on the exterior of the rocket hard at work carrying out the repairs.

At this point, A.B.Fox came rushing into the cockpit. He informed me that he had discovered the dwarf’s pickaxe hidden in the navigation room. It had clearly recently been used and the residues of paint on it matched those on the gears of the telescope. So, my suspicions were confirmed…and the Old Monkey was alone in space with the saboteur!

Before we could alert him to the danger we heard a cry from the Old Monkey. I looked out to see him spinning off into space!

Moon Junk

Captain's Log - Day 5

A year after we first landed on the moon, the dwarfs had some unexpected visitors.

Some astronauts turned up from America. The dwarfs felt it best to hide from them.By that time they had excavated quite far under the surface and the Helium 3 mining was going rather well, the last thing they wanted was claim jumpers musselling in on the act.

Homeward law gives the right to mine to the first one to discover the mineral deposit and begin mining it but, quite rightly, the dwarfs were concerned that the moon could become like some Wild West boom town.

Over the next few years the place was like Homeward Junction - these astronauts kept on turning up, making a right old mess and joy-riding in their moon buggies.

They left behind allsorts of junk - the aforementioned buggies, flags, spacesuits, boots, photographs and various technological paraphernalia.

They even left behind a defecation collection device!

Honestly it is a disgrace! - you would not treat your own home like that, would you?

The poor old dwarfs had to give the place a good sweep to get rid of all the footprints and tracks that they had left and clear up all their rubbish.

We have not thrown the stuff away, however, just in case they decide to come back for it.

But I have now introduced penalties for littering so they will have to behave better in future or face an instant fine.

Navigating by the stars

Captain's Log - Day 4

Cowgill and Professor Hismouth today showed me around the astronavigation room as I had expressed an interest in the intricacies of the skills involved.

The good ship 'Uncle' has its own sophisticated version of the sextant, an optical device used for centuries by sailors to measure angles between stars, the Sun and an Earth’s horizon.

The region of space we are traveling through, encompassed by the Moon’s orbit around Earth, is termed cislunar space. Finding a way across it is therefore called cislunar navigation.
Apparently sighting on celestial objects is only one of a range of techniques that they bring to bear on the problem of guidance and navigation, skills that have had to be mastered to ensure that the 400,000 kilometres of space between Earth and the Moon are crossed in both directions accurately and safely. These skills required consummate finesse in the measurement of extremely subtle parameters, and mathematical competence to interpret the results correctly, as excessive errors could be utterly and lethally unforgiving.

I was somewhat surprised, therefore, that Professor Hismouth seemed somewhat inebriated!

Cowgill assures me that the Professor has explained to him that this is merely an undesirable physiological effect of space flight. His balance and orientation are disturbed, but this in no way effects his visual acuity or mental capacity.

Well, one hopes so - given the importance of his navigation tasks.

Moon Farm

Captain's Log - Day 3

I must congratulate Cowgill, the good ship 'Uncle' is performing perfectly. The ship rotates every hour in order to equalise the temperature. If it did not the side facing the sun would become overheated and the shadowed side unbearably cold.

One of the great experiences that I am really looking forward to on the moon is a slap up meal.

The dwarfs have their own bubble encased farm on the moon. One of the extraordinary advantages of farming on the moon is that the additional solar energy and lack of gravity means that plants grow to unusual heights. The farmer, Butterskin Mute, helped set up the farm and has always said that it produces the best vegetables he has ever tasted.

Even under the cramped conditions of our journey, I like to maintain a sense of decorum and the attributes of a civilised society.

I therefore, insist that everyone dresses for dinner at the Captain's table in the officers' mess.

I think my suspicions that the dwarf, Diggory Stigneev, could be the saboteur are well founded. Tonight, at dinner, there was a heated argument when he espoused his opinions about the rights of the miners on the moon - which I felt compelled to disagree with.

I just hope that Beaver is not aware that we have already departed for the moon, his Black Tom powered rocket would be more than a match for the good ship 'Uncle' in speed.

If they were to follow us, soon, he might well beat us to the moon.

Mining the Moon

Captain's Log - Day 2

As promised I shall now tell you a little about our history on the moon. The moon was claimed for Homeward, by the planting of a flag, forty years ago.

Mineral samples from the moon contained abundant quantities of helium 3, so we left a group of dwarfs there to set up a camp and carry out mining operations.

Helium 3 is deposited on the lunar surface by solar winds and is extracted from moon soil and rocks.

The moon contains 10 times more energy in the form of Helium 3 than all the fossil fuels on the earth, and just 25 tonnes of helium, which is transported back to us every two years, is enough to provide electricity for Homeward for one full year.

As you know, dwarfs are excellent at mining and subterranean extraction. The majority of our moonbase is underground but we do have have a number of solar farms above ground to power it.

The only problem is the fact that dwarfs can be quite lazy and unreliable. The tricky blighters are always trying to sneak into my oil tanks back home and help themselves to free fuel. Luckily, the man who guards it, Don Guzman, usually manages to catch them.

They are also partial to a drink or two, last New Year's Eve there was a bit of a fracas when some of them got hold of some Black Tom.

I know that we have a saboteur in our midst - so I am keeping a a careful eye on Diggory Stigneev, the dwarf in our crew.

LAUNCH !

Captain's Log - Day 1

The hour arrived. I watched the chronometer ticking off the seconds to launch time.
Cowgill released the valve and the cyclotrons began to flow into the anti-gravity engines. A hum resonated throughout the hull as the engines vibrated. Then the ship rose smoothly up into the atmosphere. The pressure inside the cabin grew as we curved in a long arc through the stratosphere. At 140 miles altitude I ordered the engines to be cut and we found ourselves in a weightless environment. We were now in orbit around the earth. It is a beautiful sight - Areas of green and brown land are interspersed with large tracts of bright blue ocean.

Cowgill and Professor Hismouth are taking readings through the naviscope to determine the optimum moment for our departure from orbit to begin the journey to the moon.

It has been calculated that our journey will take about two weeks. During this time I intend to describe the day-to-day events, and some history of the work that the dwarfs have been doing on the Moon during the last forty years.

For entertainment I have brought with me Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon and H.G.Wells The First Men in the Moon . I am not a great fan of Science Fiction - I much prefer factual science and I find writers of this material rather fanciful in their predictions of the future. It is, however, quite amusing to see how wrong they all were.

I must admit,though, that Mr Wells was extraordinarily prescient in his creation of the anti-gravity metal, Cavorite.

It is was not so far-fetched and is similar in principle to our own discovery - the cyclotron particle.

An Embarrassing Incident

Launch date for our trip to the moon is set for Monday.

I have decided on the crew to accompany me to the moon.

The Old Monkey - of course, I could not go anywhere without my faithful Aide-de-camp.

Cowgill has to come - he is the only one who knows how to coax the best out of his rocket.

A.B.Fox, because I have no doubt that we will need his intellect and cunning.

We will also need brawn, although Cloutman and Gubbins are normally inseparable there is not room for both. So they drew lots - Cloutman won and so will act as our security.

The Old Monkey suggested it would be diplomatic to include a dwarf in our party, given that the dwarfs run the mining operations on the moon and make up the bulk of the populace of the Homeward Moonbase. I therefore selected an expert in excavations - Diggory Stigneev.

Cowgill insisted that we would need an astronomical expert, to aid with navigation. He suggested a world-renowned star-gazer that he had read about - Professor Patrick Hismouth.
A strange cove - but apparently well thought of in astronomical circles.

Finally, because of his constant nagging, I agreed that Goodman could come along as the ship's cat and mascot.

Today we all had to test our spacesuits under weightless conditions. These suits have been tailor made for us by Cowgill and he wanted to check that there were no design flaws or alterations needed before they face the final test - in space itself.



A problem arose with my suit, however. I had only had the suit on a few minutes before I had a strange fit of the giggles. I just could not stop laughing. Everyone looked at me as if I was quite mad and unfortunately at this very moment our preparations were being filmed by the Badgertown Broadcasting Corporation. It was all most undignified.
I, of course, immediately put an embargo on transmission of the material but somehow it got into the hands of Badfort TV. They have been running it constantly and making jokes about the moon being the right place for a lunatic despot.



Later that evening, Cowgill took me aside for a quiet word. It appears that the oxygen tank on my spacesuit had been substituted for a canister of laughing gas!

Clearly, there is a traitor and saboteur in our midst.

I shall keep this information between Cowgill and myself for the time being - I do not want to spread alarm amongst the crew. I shall be keeping a close eye on everyone from now on, however.

The Uncle and Monkey Show

It is an absolute disgrace!

Badfort TV have started beaming a so-called children's puppet show into Homeward.

It is called 'The Uncle and Monkey Show' and features two clear caricatures of The Old Monkey and I.

Yesterdays episode had me getting in a strop about the temperature of my cocoa and giving the monkey a resounding beating with a stick.

It then showed me demanding to have a celebratory parade and boasting about all my achievements, until a Beaver Hateman puppet came in and poured treacle all over me.

I then steal a bicycle, to escape Beaver's jeers, and am chased by a policeman.

Sadly, children seem to enjoy this kind of anarchy - finding it preferable to the Badgertown Broadcasting Company's rather insipid "Blue Peters' presented by a gang of blue dwarfs all called Peter.

But, I will not have the children of Homeward exposed to this blatant propaganda.

If we cannot block the signal then I shall take firm action.

The Grand Rotating Towers of Homeward

I see that plans are underway to attempt to copy the Grand Rotating Towers of Homeward.

They were exciting places to live as they continuously changed shape as each floor rotated around the central axis.

Occupants of an entire floor could control the rotation by voice command, with speeds varying from an hour to three hours for each full rotation.

Also the skyscrapers were powered by the sun and wind so they were very ecological.

But I should have been more wary of their extraordinary design. It did not take Beaver Hateman long to find a fundamental flaw.

One night he and his gang sneaked into Homeward with giant wooden spikes which they rammed into the spokes of the buildings. All the inhabitants were thrown out of their beds as the buildings jarred to a halt. They have never worked properly since - and now have a kind of juddery, grating motion. Nobody wants to live in them anymore so we use them for grinding peppercorn.

You have probably seen the world famous Homeward brand - the only building-ground pepper in the world.

Question the Mayoral Candidates

The King of the Badgers has asked me to host a debate featuring all the candidates in the Badgertown Mayoral Election.

I shall be acting as inquisitor-in-chief and this is your opportunity to put any question you like to them.

Leave your questions using the comment facility in this interblogweb, or e-mail me

uncle@uncle-tv.com

If this is Justice - Then I am a Banana!

The whole of Homeward has been shocked by the sentence handed down by Judge Jeffreys in The Badfort News libel case.

In court, Judge Jeffreys declared "I am afraid, that your actions, Mister Hateman, demand the severest penalties. I order that you return Uncle's stolen paintings, that The Badfort News print an apology on it's front page and that you must personally perform 100 hours of community service...at the Black Tom Brewery."

At this, there were gasps in the gallery at the leniency of the sentence and shouts of "What no Jail time?"

Amidst angry cries for justice, Judge Jeffreys ordered the court to be cleared.

On the Court steps Uncle declared "If this is justice - then I am a banana!"

Someone in the crowd shouted "Well you eat enough of them!"

At this, Uncle stomped off.

The Badfort News have printed an apology on their front page.

Crown Court - The Verdict

Clerk of the Court: Will the foreman please stand. Just answer this question yes or no. Have you reached a verdict upon which you are all agreed?

Foreman: Yes.

Clerk of the Court: Do you find the accused, Beaver Hateman, guilty or not guilty?

Foreman: Guilty!

Clerk of the Court: And that is the verdict of you all?

Foreman: Everyone, except ‘Red’ Dwarf over there – I knew he would be difficult about it. I think he’s a commie.

Judge Jeffreys: Well, I must say you took your time about it – I expected you to find him guilty quicker than that.

Foreman: Well, we just wanted one more night in that lovely hotel – it ain’t often you get a nice holiday like this…

Judge Jeffreys: Enough! It is now my duty to pass sentence.

Clerk of the Court: Will the prisoner stand.

At this point Mister Hateman put on a tatty dressing gown and attempted to walk out of the court. He was stopped and subdued by two guards.

Mister Hateman: How come you can see me?

Judge Jeffreys: Can someone please explain to me what the prisoner thinks he is playing at?

Uncle: If I might cast some light on his actions M’lud?

Judge Jeffreys: Yes, please, that would be most helpful.

Uncle: Mister Hateman is under the illusion that he is wearing the missing Wizard’s Dressing Gown - thus rendering him invisible. We deliberately let it be known that we were sending it to the dry cleaners in the knowledge that Mister Hateman would attempt to steal the item of clothing, again. This he did, but he was unaware that we had substituted a copy – with no magical powers whatsoever.

Judge Jeffreys: I see, found guilty and then an attempt to evade justice using the magical powers that he had earlier denied the existence of. This is very serious, indeed. I shall have to contemplate the severest penalties for these crimes. I will pass sentence tomorrow, after due consideration.

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 14

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T


Judge Jeffreys: Members of the Jury, you have now heard all the evidence that is to be given in this court case, and you have had the benefit of speeches from two very able and experienced counsel. It is now your duty to decide the facts of the case and it is my duty to decide the law. As for the law, I can safely tell you that the allegations contained in the article were libellous unless they were true.

Of course, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury it is for you to decide whether it was true or not. In law the libel was defamatory in that it was calculated to bring Uncle into public ridicule and would damage him in his professional capacity. The defendant admits publishing the document and admits that it is a defamatory libel, but he denies that he is guilty on the basis that he was justified in writing what he did. The issue then is did Uncle attack Mister Hateman without due cause and provocation, as reported in the article.

Plainly there is a direct contradiction in evidence – how do you decide who is telling the truth?

Mister Hootman has suggested that you should have no regard for Uncle’s fine personal and public record. Now, with all due respect to Mister Hootman, this is quite wrong. Such a record is a factor to be considered when you weigh the evidence. He is an elephant of immense achievement and reputation. Men, women and elephants who enjoy the respect of society are often very conscious that they can lose that respect by a single sideways step from the straight and narrow path of proper conduct.

You might think it very improbable that Uncle did what is alleged; knock Mister Hateman about, a bit, if so you should allow his good conduct to weigh the scales of justice in his favour.

The defence must prove beyond reasonable doubt, that Uncle did attack Mister Hateman in this uncharacteristic manner, and you must convict the defendant if you are not sure. Now that, Ladies and Gentlemen, of the jury is the test. Not much of one really.

As for all the talk of magic and fantasy, I ask you to bear in mind, as my friend, the noble astrophysicist, Mister Eric Idle has said, that you are standing on a planet that's evolving and revolving at nine hundred miles an hour, that's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, a sun that is the source of all our power. Furthermore, the sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see are moving at a million miles a day in an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour, of the galaxy we call the "Milky Way".

Of course, our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars and it is a hundred thousand light years side to side. Apparently, it bulges in the middle, sixteen thousand light years thick, but out by us, it's just three thousand light years wide. Also, we are thirty thousand light years from galactic central point and we go around every two hundred million years.
Members of the Jury, it is also important to note that, our galaxy is only one of millions of billions in this amazing and expanding universe.

I hope that has cleared up that point.

In conclusion, I need only say that if you are convinced of the dubious allegations of the defendant then you must bring in a verdict of not guilty but if on the other hand if you think it is a complete and utter fabrication you must find him guilty.

Now members of the jury will you kindly retire and consider your verdict. Should take you about five minutes, then we can all have tea.

Clerk of the Court: All stand.

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 13

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T

Judge Jeffreys: Let us here your speech for the Defence, Mister Hootman.

Mr Hootman: If it please M’lud. Members of the jury, we have never sought to undermine the gravity of the accusations made in the newspaper, of which Mister Hateman is the proprietor. The only possible justification is that which we have pleaded, namely that they are true. You have seen the accused, Mister Hateman, and perhaps formed the opinion that he is, as my learned friend has suggested, a man of uncertain temper. But that is not what he is on trial for, members of the jury. You must ask yourselves not whether he is impulsive and hot tempered but whether he is a witness of the truth.

Now, as for Uncle’s doubtful public service – that is completely irrelevant. His activities as the owner of Homeward have no bearing on the vicious attack on innocents described in The Badfort News.

I must remind you, members of the jury, you must not allow Uncle’s position to bedazzle you. Your sole interest is, of course, the facts. A public reputation may command respect in some quarters but it also presumes certain standards that Uncle falls well short of.

Uncle is a tyrant, whose staff stand so in awe of him that they are prepared to do his bidding in everything he asks. Including perjuring themselves in the witness stand if he so demands.

Not once did Mister Hateman falter in his assertion that he was attacked by Uncle. That what took place did take place.

We are supposed to believe that Mister Hateman just blatantly walked into the Treasury to take Uncle’s fortune – is this believable? The prosecution claim that he made used of some absurd garment of invisibility. This claim is part of the establishment’s use of magic and fantasy to, once more, oppress the masses. It has been foisted upon us in order to deceive us about the true nature of the world we live in – one of endless labour for the bosses. To be deceived about the truth of things and so to be in ignorance and error and to harbour untruth in the soul is a thing no-one should consent to.

Arise ye workers from your slumbers
Arise ye prisoners of want
For reason in revolt now thunders
And at last ends the age of cant.
Away with all your superstitions
Servile masses arise, arise
We'll change henceforth the old tradition
And spurn the dust to win the prize.

No saviour from on high delivers
No faith have we in prince or peer
Our own right hand the chains must shiver
Chains of hatred, greed and fear
E'er the thieves will give up their booty
And give to all a happier lot.
Each at the forge must do their duty
And we'll strike while the iron is hot.

Strike now Comrades – declare our leader not guilty!

Judge Jeffreys: Thank you Mister Hootman – it is nice to end the day on a song. Tomorrow I shall sum up for the jury.

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 12

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T

Judge Jeffreys: It has not been possible to ascertain the identity of the person who threatened the jury, however, I have ordered that the Badgertown Police undertake around the clock protection for the jury – there shall be no more attempts at fixing this trial. Mister Badger, Can we hear the closing speech for the prosecution?

Mr Badger: Yes, your honour. Members of the Jury, we have heard differing accounts of the events that took place on that fateful day in the Treasury. Uncle denies the Badfort News's version unequivocally. His manner may be brusque at times but you must not let this blind you. He comes from an old fashioned school where the principal tenet is uncompromising honesty and we can be sure that he will invariably tell the truth.

A libel is a remark calculated to injure the reputation of someone by bringing him into hatred or contempt. Mister Hateman has pleaded justification – meaning that what he published was true, and it was in the public interest that it should be published.

As for the matter of justification you must ask yourself – What grounds did the accused have for making these allegations? I think that you will have observed that Mister Hateman is a man of uncertain temper, given to emotional outbursts, when he finds himself at a disadvantage. He has a long held grudge against the owner of Homeward, envious of his status, power and wealth.

Caught red-handed, attempting to steal from our great benefactor, he invented the spurious defence that he was a mere lost tourist – who happened to be wearing a dressing gown of invisibility! Are we to believe that he had not knowingly made use of its powers ? or are we to believe, as he now claims, that the magical arts are a nonsense. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, I think that we are all aware that we live in a magical kingdom. Magic is a natural part of our lives, we have all experienced the strange places within Homeward, the magical events that happen here. These are not merely a fact of life, they are the cornerstone of the way in which our world operates. To claim that they are used, in someway, to bolster the establishment is not only heretical but foolhardy and dangerous – that way lies anarchy!

Homeward – this land of long shadows on tower rooftops, warm koolvat, sinking parades, fairy lovers and - as Uncle, himself, has said – “dwarf’s cycling on their borrowed bikes, to pay their rent, through the morning mist."

To protect all this, my friends, you must find Mister Hateman guilty!

Judge Jeffreys: Thank you Mister Badger, tomorrow we shall here the closing speech from the defence.

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 11

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T

Judge Jeffreys: There has been some damage to the witness box following the removal of Friday’s witness, however as there are no more witnesses it is my intention to move onto the closing speeches….

Jury Foreman: S’cuse, I, M’lud, but we been got at…

Judge Jeffreys: Pardon? This is not the time for you to speak, yet…

Jury Foreman: Well, I just thought you would want to know someone tried to nobble us…

Judge Jeffreys: Nobbled?

Clerk of the Court: Your honour, I think that the Foreman of the jury means that someone has tried to influence the verdict of the jury

Judge Jeffreys: In what manner?

Jury Foreman: Well first he said it was our duty as comrades, for the sake of the revolution, to make sure Mister Hateman was found not guilty and we told him where to get off…

Judge Jeffreys: I should think so to!

Jury Foreman: Then he offered us loads of money and casks of Black Tom.

Judge Jeffreys: Disgraceful!

Jury Foreman: Well to be honest, we was tempted…but we don’t want to rub the landlord up the wrong way…

Judge Jeffreys: Ahem! Quite so, quite so, then what happened?

Jury Foreman: Then he said if Mister Hateman weren’t quitted he would smash our heads in.

Judge Jeffreys: Outrageous! What did this man look like?

Jury Foreman: Well he had a big bushy false beard, a wig, and dark glasses so we ain’t to sure…but he was rough lookin’ and wearing a sackcloth robe…he also said you shouldn't be making us work on a Bank Holiday...

Judge Jeffreys: Oh very well!, I shall adjourn, for the day, whilst investigations are made…

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 10

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T

Judge Jeffreys: I believe, Mister Hootman that you wish to call an expert witness?

Mr Hootman: That is correct M’lud – I would like to call Mister Joey Beadle.

Mister Beadle is duly sworn in.

Mr Hootman: You were a Member of the World Wizard Association?

Mr Beadle: I was - but I left, they did not like the way I exposed the way that their tricks are performed.

Mr Hootman: I see, and Wizard Blenkinsop is a senior member of that organisation?

Mr Beadle: He is.

Mr Hootman: Now, the matter of this Wizard’s Dressing Gown – what is your opinion of the claims made for its properties?

Mr Beadle: It is nonsense – mere sleight of hand and other chicanery.

Mr Hootman: I see, so the idea that someone could use it to gain entrance to the Homeward Art Gallery and Treasury is a fantasy?

Mr Beadle: Utter fantasy! – but, I am not surprised that these claims might be made. It is in the interests of the establishment to maintain the illusion that magic exists in this world. It keeps the populace from uprising against the conditions of their life if they believe in the other-worldly, and of course there is a whole industry that is dependant on myths and legends, books, films, computer games – all putting money in the pockets of capitalists like Uncle…

Mr Hootman: Quite so, quite so, no further questions M’lud. That closes the case for the defence.

Mr Badger: Is it not true that you have never been an official member of the World Wizard Association?, that in fact you no qualifications and have done great harm to a noble trade?

Mr Beadle: I don’t know how you can call trickery, Noble!

Mr Badger: Is it not the case that you used the letters M.W.W.A, without a shred of claim to them, in order to take money under false pretences whilst running a so-called School for Wizardry?

Mr Beadle: I was loved by my pupils…they used to sing “All honour to Joey Beadle, The chief of the Wizard band….”

Mr Badger: So it is alright for people to believe in magic as long as they are lining your pocket?

Mr Beadle: Em, well, look I was exposing the tricks…

Mr Badger: That is not what your ex-pupils say, they were led to believe that you would be teaching them real magic.

Mr Beadle: Well it is hardly my fault if they misunderstood…

Mr Badger: Is it not true that Wizard Blenkinsop had been impressed by your enthusiasm for the profession, that you now disparage? Rather than expose and disgrace you he kindly offered you the position of clerk and general helper?

Mr Beadle: Yes – what sort of position is that though, for a man of my skills – the lowest of the low. He taught me nothing!

Mr Badger: So, you are a Master of the Arts of what you describe as trickery – as a self confessed con-man why should we believe anything you say?

Mr Beadle: At least it is real magic!

Mr Badger: Show us some magic then Mister Beadle!

Mr Beadle: Er…oh …very well, I shall take this double page of the Badfort News and glue the two sides together. You, Mister Badger, can have a go with the glue brush so that you can be certain there is no fake. Now, I am going to do something wonderful. I am going to change this heavily glued double sheet into what it was before: a double sheet of newspaper with no glue on. This is extremely difficult, and can’t be done unless you all close your eyes. The necessary power can’t be concentrated unless every eye is shut. Zam, Zam, Zam, Zam, Zam. Paper, paper, change your sheet into a double form so neat. Open eyes everybody! Trick performed!

Jury Member: Please, your honour, I saw him hide the glued paper in his robe and bring out a fresh sheet!

Mr Beadle: Liar!

Mr Badger: So, you are not even a very good magician are you, Mister Beadle?
I put it to you that the reason you wish to denigrate the magical arts is the fact that you have been such a failure at mastering them!

Mr Beadle: Fiddlesticks – I am going to turn you into a frog for that!

Mr Badger: I wonder why I am not scared of that threat Mister Beadle – oh I know!.. it is because you are rubbish! But Magic and Fantasy are not rubbish, Mister Beadle. Is not all art based upon our imaginings? Do they not provide a means of engagement with reality? We can tie ourselves into endless philosophical knots investigating the odd and potent art that is spun with illusions, but is it not with such stuff as dreams are made on?

Mr Beadle: Can someone help me? I think I have super-glued my hand to the witness box.

Judge Jeffreys: I think that we had better adjourn at this point, in order for Mister Beadle to be extricated from the box. I shall see you all, in my court, on Monday.

Crown Court - Transcript - Day 9

Case: Rex vs Mister Beaver Hateman, Criminal Libel

Presiding Judge: Sir George Jeffreys

Counsel for the Prosecution: Godfrey Badger K.C.

Counsel for the Defence: Mister Hootman G.H.O.S.T

Judge Jeffreys: Mister Hootman, who is your next witness?

Mr Hootman: I would like to call Mister Hitmouse, m’lud.

Mr Hitmouse is sworn using a copy of Das Kapital.

Mr Hootman: You are Mister Hitmouse, Chief Reporter of the Badfort News?

Mr Hitmouse: Yep that’s me, intrepid, undercover, campaigning journalist – seeker of the truth.

Mr Hootman: Quite so, and on March the Fifth of this year you printed an expose of Uncle?

Mr Hitmouse: Yes, we printed the truth of the events that had taken place in Uncle’s Treasury – the attack upon my fellow comrades.

Mr Hootman: A carefully researched piece?

Mr Hitmouse: Mine is a noble calling. I am a valiant for truth untainted and undeflected by an otherwise corrupt society. The truth shall out – the people shall be told.

Mr Hootman: Indeed, now much has been made of the skewers found in the bucket at the Museum where the dressing gown is alleged to have been stolen. Do you own many skewers, Mister Hitmouse?

Mr Hitmouse: I have a few…I am a genial man, and I often like to host barbecues for my comrades….they are very fond of kebabs…

Mr Hootman: But you would never consider them as a weapon?

Mr Hitmouse: I am not a man of violence, Sir.

Mr Hootman, Thank you, Mister Hitmouse, no more questions.

Judge Jeffreys: Your witness, Mister Badger.

Mr Badger: (holds up Badfort News of March the Fifth)
Powerful stuff. Or it might be it was true. In fact, none of the contents stand up to scrutiny. One of the basic rules of journalism is to get both sides of the story before running a report. Mister Hootman, Did you speak to Uncle or any of his followers before submitting this article?

Mr Hitmouse: Of course not, what would be the point? He runs a regime of the bourgeoisie and his followers cow-tow to him. You will not get the truth from them.

Mr Badger: I put it to you that unable to muster serious arguments, you resorted instead to distortions, amalgams and ad hominem attacks.

Mr Hitmouse: How dare you! The Badfort News is the voice of the people.

Mr Badger: The voice of you and your cronies you mean! Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury to call them an organization is perhaps giving them too much credit. I doubt they have enough people to fill a telephone booth. They’re a very small sectarian political outfit based Badfort.

Mr Hitmouse: We represent the underclass, fighting to overthrow a vicious…

Mr Badger: Mister Hitmouse, with this sensationalist piece you have managed to take journalism out of the gutter and into the sewer…

Mr Hitmouse: Why you…

(at this point Mister Hitmouse appeared to draw a long thin piece of metal from under his sackcloth robes)

Mr Badger: Nice weather for a barbecue, Mister Hitmouse?

Mister Hootman: If my learned friend has finished can Mister Hitmouse please leave the witness box?

(Mister Hootman, holding Mister Hitmouse very tightly, helped him from the witness box)

Judge Jeffrey: Yes, very well, is he alright?... he has gone very red.

Mister Hootman: Just the heat, M’lud…

Judge Jeffrey: I think that this would be an opportune time to adjourn for the day.