Umberto Bond&Wheelspanner Jones


I'd like to thank Hig, RR's own version of Max Clifford. Ready? :w00t:

There's a new James Bond novel being written, and Indiana Jones is coming out of retirement, so I thought is was time for my
unsung hero to get into the fray again. After many happy years in retirement, flogging bedding plants to coach loads of day-tripping
medicated Zimmer-Gibbons, Umberto Nigel Ian Bond is going to save the world again, only this time he's going to have a wise-cracking
American partner along for the hair-raising, nerve-jangling and utterly un-f***ing-believable ride. Ladies and Gentlemen, permit me to
introduce you to *Wheelspanner* Jones - an ex-Chief Stoker who, after many weeks of logging on to WWW.BASTARDS-REUNITED.COM
has discovered that he is actually Indiana Jones half-brother (twice removed), having been binned into a Dr. Barnado's Orphanage at
the end of WW II, after Indiana Jones dad had a sweaty minute or three with his mum behind a Yates Wine Lodge in Southsea prior
to legging it - never to be heard from again. Our intrepid pair of heroes are a lot older, no wiser, a little thicker around the centre,
grumpier and completely un-PC. It's the 21st Century, and they 'aint caught up with it yet.
It's going to be Hell.

***James' Bonds Dad and Wheelspanner Jones***

^^^^^^^ Together for the first time in: ^^^^^^^^^



All moved up, cut'n'pasted - and dropped in DL's

Off we go again.............



*You Bit!*

Now, every block-busting tale of high adventure has to start somewhere, so where better to commence than at the beginning, and by that I mean the actual, genuine, real beginning. Are you ready for this? Okay then.....let's flash up the Time-Machine, put our Reeboks in the starting blocks and go "Through the Wormhole".
(Flashing Lights, Grinding noises, Spinning-spinning-spinning, weird camera effects, travelling faster than the speed of light - or a Devonport Dockyard Lagger when the knocking-off hooter fires up). Getting Travel sick? Sorry - I don't think that's possible, because seeing as you are hammering along at twice the speed of LIGHT, then obviously you can't spew up because you officially do not exist, so you cannot puke anyway. After all, you 'aint eaten anything to throw up, seeing as your entire family tree has not even come into existence yet and CARROTS are going to take at least another million years to evolve into the vegetable we all know and love. If you DO chunder inside this Time-Machine before we get to where we are going....then you will be solely responsible for tearing apart the entire fabric of the Space/Time Continium and ****-all will exist whatsoever. Imagine that - merely by the simple act of a "Lumpy Cough", "Swamping", or, dare I say it, "Following Through", the infinite blackness of space and time will fold in on itself, suck everything inwards and vanish up its own Ring-Bolt. Professor Stephen Hawking never thought of that bastard did he?..........I call it *THE GRAND SLAM THEORY* (Patent pending).
You have been warned.
(Cue incidental sci-fi music being played on a second-hand synthesiser)

The Time-Machine is now alongside its destination. Leave will be piped shortly. Folks, welcome to the place where all the worlds woes started:

This is The Garden of Eden
Occupants: AB Adam and Wren Eve
Its 10:00 a.m. Monday, Day 1, Month 1, Year 1 (presumably).
Its Standeasy, and the shit is about to hit the fan.

(To be continued)


War Hero
(in the light of the end of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail)

Lawyers pull up in a car, emptying out like a clown car.

They all hold up signs disavowing that the station is not liable for any religious overtones (up to and including the prophet Muhammed), and that this should be construed as wholly the Directors' idea of how the world started.

We now return you to your scheduled program...