Friday, 11 November 2011
Friday joke: The Abominable Snowman
Brian Coleman: A sad end.
Look: it is a dark winter's night in Broken Barnet, and snow is falling.
Mrs Angry is fast asleep, all tucked up in her bed in her matronly, buttoned up One Barnet nightdress, thermal socks and nightcap. Most alluring, Mrs Angry. Don't go near the window, in case you frighten the One Barnet RIPA surveillance team, blogger section, binoculars out and at the ready.
Not far away, in a sleepy side road, the Snow Queen's sleigh has just returned Councillor Brian Coleman from another social engagement, dropped him outside his humble, charity owned flat, and vanished into the night. Listen: can you hear the jingle bells?
Councillor Coleman has a splinter of ice in his heart and does not feel the cold, or anything else, nor fear the snow, especially as in the morning the council will send a special snow plough to clear his side road, which Councillor Coleman's icy magic powers have turned into a high priority for gritting. (Do read all about here, in Mr Mustard's blog today ... )
But, oh dear: do take care, those dainty little shoes, so slippery - didn't Mrs Angry tell you to get them reheeled? -and, oh, no: whoops, Brian has slipped, and lies helplessly on the driven snow, arms and legs flailing like a very bad tempered snow angel. No one hears his plaintive cries for help. Or perhaps they do, and do not give a flying you know what. By the morning, a strange transformation has taken place ... see: a new snowman! Look away now, children.
Oh dear, though ... with a relentless drive for efficiency, here comes that snow plough ... and, goodness me: how very odd, and what a tragic loss ... Councillor Coleman is never seen again.
Mrs Angry is dreaming of a White Christmas, are you, citizens?