The Ballad of Rickmansworth Gaol

My much-loved readers, your Monty has returned. I am finally at liberty to lay the loathsome lies of that infamous organ the “Chorleywood Advisor”, the mouthpiece of the curry house from here to Hemel Hampstead.

On the morning of Wednesday, August 2, an incompetantly scurrilous poster (reproduced left) appeared throughout our leafy town. I was promptly detained by Inspector Pleasant, effete puppet-master of the Multicultural Squad, although I knew nothing of this fatuous imposture. My helpful assistence was rendered in the press as “Cor blimey, strike a light guv’nor, you’ve got me banged to rights and no mistake, oh lumme chum. It’s a fair cop ain’t it? You’re a real gent Inspector, strike me if it ain’t so much an arrest and more a bloomin’ privilege, ain’t it?”.

I then pointed out that no half-witted child would fall for this ludicrous fake. Or, in the weasely words of the “Advisor” - “Stocking made a full confession: ‘Lor’ love a duck, I’ll bally well come clean, copper. Strike me, but I can’t keep me mitts off the kiddies, Streuth. I’m a wrong’un sure enuf. I ‘opes they blinkin’ locks me up and throws away the key I do”.

The untiring efforts of the decent folk of Chorleywood at last compelled Pleasant to suspend his machinations. I strode from the generous acclamation of the gaol to the fervent elation of numberless supporters, not least our new friend Mr Wong, who proudly distributed his “Freedom Foo-Yung” gratis. Yet once dear old Monty lay safe in his bed, he was suddenly awoken by the telephone bell. I answered and was welcomed by a crazed female voice: “You may have escaped me, but I’ll get you yet - and I'm just like Dawn French, I really, really am, look at me! I'm eating all these bloody Curley Wurlys!" It faded away in obscene sucking noises. Who knows what enigmas these outlandish words portend?