Friday, 25 December 2015

Tipton's Miss Multiverse Contest 2015

Charles or Ollie- I confess, I can't tell

Dramatic events have transpired at the annual Tipton beauty pageant held in the capacious Town hall and slaughter house.

This year the prestigious event was hosted by Charlie 'call me chuckles' Blenkonsop. Charlie 'call me chuckles' graciously stepped in at the last moment following the fall from grace of the incumbent Master of Ceremonies, Ollie 'ooh missus' MacNuddle. As you will recall, pictures of Ollie went viral after being posted on 'Arsebook'. Though grainy, indistinct and viewed through a glass rendered darkly, it purportedly shows an inebriated 'Ooh Missus' in a gimp suit drinking brown ale off the naked back of a Siamese prostitute. Charlie's protestations that the pictures were but cleverly crafted forgeries cunningly convened did not convince the officiating committee. They immediately published an edict forcing 'Ooh Missus' into an early suicide.

Charlie was the perfect replacement. After hosting the game show: 'Guess that Sausage' for the past six years he was deemed to have honed his greasy condescending smile to utmost perfection. The thrust of the 'show', as you will know doubt be aware, involves befuddled members of the general public balancing sausages, from around the world, on their scrotums or pudenda, depending on gender declaration. Who can forget his majestic catch phrase: ''You don't get many chipolatas to the pound at this corner shop'' and the evergreen, ''That's not a bad sausage, that's offal''. Anyway, I've digressed.

Things were running fine until the knockout round when the contestants had to battle it out in a wrestling ring thoroughly rendered in pork dripping. Miss Tipton, south, south, east was applying the dreaded death grip to Miss Tipton borders using foundry tongs when she slipped clean orf. This mishap was later ascribed to an over zealous application of pig's lard by the overwrought ringmaster's assistant. This calamity, at the time, quickly evolved into an error of salvation. For at just that moment, a Japanese sniper ensconced in a dirigible, let fly a deadly bullet of doom. Said dirigible was floating above the scene like a behemoth or a leviathan, if are you fussy. Our intrepid Nip had been masquerading for 70 years as a short order cook at 'Mr  Kim's Gae Restaurant'. He had been waiting for this moment for 70 years. Private (2nd Class) Kendo Nagasaki was a rabid feminist in imperial Japan of the 1930s, although due to the dominant dogma and fascist environment of the time he had to keep his ethos under wraps. Also, he was a fanatical supporter and an avid believer in the God/War Criminal/Emperor Hirohito. A conflict which could only be resolved by doing as he was told. Thus, he was foisted via a series of tortuous devices, into the West Midlands circa 1944.

As luck would have it the bullet missed all the major organs of Mzz Candice Marie (aspiring, actor, model, nail stylist) and lodged within her brain where it enhanced her IQ by 20 points. For this we are indebted. 

After the event, Inspector Mugumbo, of the yaaarrd, had this to relate: ''Sadly, rogue Japanese snipers are a perennial problem in this great borough of ours. But rest assured good burghers, my men will root out these anachronistic enigmas and place them in custard (sic). In retrospect, we as a community could have done better. During Nagasaki's ensconcement (is this a real word?) at the 'Bawdy Boarding House' Tipton, alarm bells should have chimed amongst the regulars. Sad to say most of the inmates were struggling with the problems of existing in a world beyond their intellect and the staff were only one pay cheque away from joining them. Therefore 'Ron' was able to blend imperceptibly with the lost; the estranged; the deranged and the frankly brain fucked. Although it was noted by the resident medical officer, that 'Ron' was a short-sighted stunted runt with a fanatical devotion to the divine Emperor, Hirohito.

A quick witted member of the public released the drones and Private (2nd Class) Nagasaki's dirigible suffered catastrophic gas loss resulting in a conflagration- ''O, the inhumanity''. Kendo's badly burnt corpse will be tossed, without ceremony, on Tipton's midden pit later today. Arse.      


       
Miss Multiverse 2015


8 comments:

  1. ".....on their scrotums or pudenda, depending on gender declaration>....."

    You ignoramus!
    Pudenda, plural of pudendum ‎- (“that where of one ought to feel shame”) - is the neuter plural gerundive of pudet ‎(“it shames”); in Latin the usage in the plural form was far more common than the singular form (to mean external genitalia).
    Neuter plural.
    External genitalia.
    NOT gender specific!
    All the genders that sport genitalia, by definition, also sport pudenda!

    As for the rest of that surreal hallucinatory story, you've a shite-load of pharmacological counter indications don't you!

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  2. Yins is talking a load of bollox and fanny, innit.

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    1. And shit, M you didn't understand although you see. Everything is in parables for those that don't comprehend. For those that read and understand, parables melt away and all that is hidden, is hidden, no more. Read between the lines and become wise. And folk don't think I'm subtle.

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  3. Parable?
    Fuck off! Parabolic more like.
    I don't want some mucky ooze melting away and irreparably soiling my new frock as I attempt to dissect your dross just so I can view even more hidden gibberish.
    It's nowt but patronizing, sexist and racist Caucasoid Boomer shite anyway.
    It's depressing enough reading your actual lines, reading between them is not for the likes of me.

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    1. Got ya! Like shooting fish in a barrel- but I still luv ya.

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    2. ?

      Perhaps I am looking for something which isn't there? Looking for complexity when it is simplistic. Reminds me of the time I tried to determine what was the mathematical algorithm used to group the letters of the alphabet into the following two groups:

      1: A----------E-F----H-I----K-L-M-N----------------T----V-W-X-Y-Z
      2: ---B-C-D------G------J--------------O-P-Q-R-S---U

      I never did figure it out. I had to be told.

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    3. Sometimes I'm not profound, just drunk.

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