He, and the Badfort Crowd, had just finished clearing up their shanty town, 'Uncleville', after the flood. Suddenly, a great big satellite came hurtling out of the sky and smashed into his Nissen Hut.
He is furious, and, of course, Beaver is blaming me. He accuses me of filling space up with junk. I pointed out to him that, if he cared too look, the satelite clearly had 'Made in Badfort' written on the side. "I am not surprised." I espoused, "Clearly it is of poor workmanship and was bound to fall out of the skies before very long!"
Hitmouse attempted to throw his skewers at me but missed.
Frankly, I am rather pleased. Without their satellite they will no longer be able to broadcast their virulent propaganda around the world.
Meanwhile. I have dispatched a cohort of Wombles into space to clear up the junk that mankind has distributed around the globe.