Friday, 3 November 2017

The Si Who Loved Me

“Wally, now we are in trouble!” said P.  “You ain’t wrong there sir” replied Wally, squelching as they walked, “do you know of anywhere that sells socks?” he asked.  “Pull yourself together man, this is serious!  Right, change of plan” said P forever thinking on his feet.  “Leave your pots, you won’t sell any anyway, and shadow that no good son of a bonsai wherever he goes, understand?” 
It appeared, as usual, that Wally had got the shite end of the stick, but orders were orders he thought.  Life had been so much easier before Shiten, he pondered, as he trudged sloppily towards the gents to wring out his underwear.  Things had indeed been a lot easier when he was just a member of the MBS, no pressure to perform, just monthly rounds of tea & biscuits and sometimes even cake!  How times had changed.  Shiten had fast earned a reputation for being the “shite of the shite” and keeping up this standard was weighing heavily on our hero*.  “I don’t know how much longer I can do this” he said to himself staring deeply into the mirror.  His beleaguered and haunting reflection looked back and agreed “We’re getting too old for all this shit!” 

No matter how much Wally used he never pulled a bird as advertised!
With his thong finally dry, courtesy of the toilet hand dryers, Wally emerged with a spring, rather than a squelch, in his step determined not to let the Shiten Secret Service down.  The distinct Wally Wiff of too much Hai Karate filled the air making discreet investigations nearly impossible so a subtler approach was needed.  “Anyone seen Gingemember?” repeated Wally to anyone who came close enough and hadn’t passed out from his aftershave.  Not very subtle but it was all the dim-witted Bonsaist could think off.  The results?  Nothing, not a sausage, had been seen of the Bellend of Bonsai for hours and the Japanese VIP was still intact so had Northern Nutter bolted or simply been burnt to a crisp by the warm Spring sunshine?  Reports began to filter back from other Agents, that could actually DO their job, that the original Man from C&A had actually left his hitman suit at home and had had to go out shopping for a replacement hence becoming the Arse from ASDA!  With this news a plan began to evolve in Wally’s brain.
Several hours later when he had finally decided on “his” plan he sought out the returned Gingemember.  It didn’t take long for Wally to find him and upon finding him was greeted with “What do you want shitface?” from the ever-polite Mr Jones.  “I thought that I could do you a favour as you do like your beer and all” reply the suitably shocked Agent.  “And ’ows that then?” came the response.  “Well, how about I be your chauffer for the evening?”
The evening was warm and sunny as the Frogmobile crunched its way up the drive to the plush Cobham hotel that housed Baldfeld’s agent.  The picturesque Days Inn Hotel gleamed under the haze of diesel fumes from the M25 as Wally’s “guest” for the evening wobbled out of reception towards his awaiting carriage.  “Where the fuck have you been?” asked the impatient assassin.  “Nowhere” reply Wally with a grin.  He had, in fact, been somewhere as he and P had cased the joint for the Gala Dinner and where Wally was given his final instructions.  It appears, that in the correct quantities, that Duval can be quite deadly to Gingers of a certain disposition, so the plan was clear – get him bladdered and keep the Japanese VIP safe at ALL COSTS!
(*Again, we use this term VERY loosely!)

Tuesday, 24 October 2017

Intermission


Time for a musical Intermission before the next gripping(?) instalment.
(Thought you guys could do with a wee break!)

Nobody talks shit better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
Jonesy, you're a breast

I was lurkin' but somehow you found me
I tried to hide from your ginger light
But like heaven above me
The Si who loved me
Is keepin' all my Shohin safe tonight

And nobody talks shit better
Though sometimes I wish someone could
Nobody talks shit quite the way you do
Why'd you have to be so gay?

The way that you hate me
Whenever you hate me
There's some kind of malice inside you
That keeps me runnin'
But it just keeps comin'
How'd you learn to be so rude?

Oh, and nobody talks shit better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody talks shit half as good as you
Baby, baby, Ginga, you're a breast

Jonesy you're a breast
Ginga, you're a breast
Jonesy you're a breast
Oh, oh, oh

Monday, 23 October 2017

Gingerpussy


Wally’s mind raced as his peanut sized brain tried desperately to retain and prioritise the information from the previous evenings briefing.  Sweat poured down his brow as the enormity of the task ahead of him and filled him full of dread.  Mouth dry, stomach churning he flicked the key on the Kermit-mobile and headed for his fate with destiny.  The lime green roller skate lurched to life, “there’s no way out of it now” he thought, as his trusty stead ribbited down the road to his destination little knowing that he would actually turn out to be a hero even if for only 5 minutes.

Faster than a speeding bogey the green grolly’s progress was swift and sure giving 00Shiten enough time for a quick fag and ANOTHER security sweep of the exhibition area before taking up his alter ego for the event as one of dem dare lovely Bonsai Traders.  It seemed that P really didn’t trust Wally at all so had set up shop next door to the creatively(?) named Suteki Accent Pots stall to make sure that he didn’t crack under pressure (something that had happen oh so often in the past) and hopefully make a couple of bob too!

Suddenly the pocket of Wally’s figure hugging leather strides began to vibrate.  I thought that I’d taken the batteries out of that thing” he thought before realising what was in his pocket was not what he feared but his phone.  “Who the bloody hell is that?” he wondered as his hand fiddled with his lose change, “Oh, bloody ‘ell, it’s the Boss!” he panicked.  “Shiten, is that you?” came the voice on the other end of the phone, “errr, yes Sir, what’s up?”.  “Um, I don’t quite know how to put this really, but I need your help!” came the reply, knocking Wally for six over long on.  “Problem Boss, how could I possibly help?”  “It appears that some of Baldfeld’s agents have sabotaged my transport and I need you to collect me in the Shitewagen ASAP”.  “Would love to P but I have the Kermit-mobile which is a bit gay sir”.  “Needs must, so get your big, fat, leather clad arse down here pronto just in case that there are any more sinister plans afoot” replied the now frustrated SSS head.  “Roger and out chief” came the reply but there was also a nagging worry that this could well be just the start of the festivities!

Whilst Wally & P enjoyed the country lanes of sunny Surrey, well, as enjoyable as they can be in a snot green soft top and the driver wearing a bright red bowler hat, reports began to circulate that Baldfelds attendance was a ruse as there had been sightings of a strange strawberry haired figure lurking in the shadows.  Being a bright Spring day, this coppertop had no choice BUT to lurk in the shadows for fear of his fair complexion spontaneously combusting!  With the two SSS Agents fully briefed, well Wally was in a thong again but I digress, they made their way with a little trepidation to their posts in the Traders marque.  As they entered their fear and dread was made manifest as they saw the slightly silvering mop of the Bellend of Bonsai, the Ginga Ninja himself, Baldfeld’s chief (character) assassin!  “Heavens preserve us” thought P, “Bugger!” thought Wally, never known as one of the worlds intellectuals.  “Morning you pair of Nob Jockeys” grinned the northern nutter.  “Yes, and to you too Mr Jones” replied P whilst Wally was frantically looking for another pair of socks.  “You pair of pottery poofs ‘ere to see Taiga like me?” quipped Gingemember with an evil grin on his face.  “I’m selling pots” replied the panicked Wally with a nervous smile.  “That shite?  Not a chance!” the Ginga’s grin getting wider.  “Honestly, if you have nothing nice to say, then say nothing Mr Jones” rebuffed P although he did tend to agree with him about Wally’s ceramic exploits.  “Whatever, I’ll leave you pair of puffs to it, I have more IMPORTANT things to do” growled the gay ginger mincing off towards the main hall still keeping to the shadows. 

So, it was finally out, Baldfeld’s cunning plan had been accidentally revealed, so who will now to protect the Japanese VIP and where would Wally get replacement underwear at such short notice?






Monday, 4 September 2017

From Vodka with Love


“I’ve done it, I’ve finally infiltrated Baldfeld’s gang” thought Wally, “P would be so proud of me!”  A tear began to run down our hero’s* cheek.  Not a tear of joy however just his G-String starting to chafe a little.  Wiping away the tear, whilst also adjusting his panty problem, Wally looked over to his left at the person atop the ejector seat in the Shitewagen.  The passengers shining cranium briefly blinded the driver but his eyes adjusted to stare at the enormity of it all – Baldfeld, Bonsai Enemy No1!  Seen as a hero by many in Bonsai circles, but a shite by the majority of Bonsai lovers, his reign of terror started small, robbing hubcaps and the like, then moved into protection rackets that included holding footballer’s privates to ransom for a hefty fee!  Years, and many regional extradition orders later, here he was, “King Pin” of the UK Shohin Raffia!
Somehow, more by luck than judgment no doubt, 00Shiten had managed to infiltrate his way into Baldfeld’s inner circle, P’s plan seemed to be working!  No doubt drunk on his own success (not vino collapseo for a change) Wally tried to make small talk whilst they journeyed around another triumph of the British Empire – the M25, the world’s largest roundabout.  “These Bonsai, eh, tiny aren’t they?  They almost look real, what’s the trick?” Slowly Baldfield’s expression changed as his shimmering skull turned in the direction of the driver.  Panic now filled Wally, along with his socks as a G-String ain’t much of a poop protector, had he blown his cover, could this FINALLY be his end?  “Costa” the scouse supervillain replied “I thought you asked if I wanted a coffee?”  Thinking on his feet, a novelty for Wally, he spluttered “Yes, that’s what I asked”.  “OK then” came the reply much to the relief of the Shiten spy.  With this crisis averted, and the grown-up baby caffeined to the eyeballs, it was now full steam ahead to RHS Wisley.
It is commonly known within in the Shiten Secret Service, and the greater Bonsai world as a whole for that matter, is that Wally isn’t the sharpest tool in the roll so P had organised plenty of “back-up” to offset his lack to knowledge and tact!  Whilst Baldfeld was given the VIP Tour Wally inspected his “kit” that had arrived from Department Q.  Things had changed since the good old days.  As all departments of the Secret Service are funded by government some bright spark had deemed that as the SSS only dealt with Bonsai related threats to national security its budget, and staff, would have to abide by new “smaller” guidelines.  And boy were they not joking!  Wally’s “display*” had been entered into the Marmite Section of the exhibition as a Shite-buffer to Baldfeld’s entry just in case his trees were armed with hidden weapons of moss destruction.  Forever the optimist Wally threw his display together to what he thought looked “about right” apparently glossing over the section on Formal Display in his briefing notes. It would only later become very apparent that this lack of foresight NEARLY blew his cover!
(*Again, we use this term VERY loosely!)

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

On Her Majesties Shiten Service

The door lurches open at Shiten’s secret Whitehall HQ.  A red bowler hat spears through the air and hits the unsuspecting secretary square in the nose.  “Sorry Miss Mamepenny”, says a drunken voice from the shadow of the doorway.  “You REALLY live up to your name you know” the secretary rebuffs, “Erotic?” the voice replied, “no, Wally!” replied Miss Mamepenny wiping the trail of blood that was dripping from her nose.  “My equipment may be small Miss Mamepenny but it’s perfectly formed” replied Wally staggering into the desk.  “Sorry Wally, I’m more into big Blackthorns than your tiny little stick.  Go through, P has been waiting for you to sober up!”
P sat at his wheel majestically throwing his next range of Gafu-Ten winning pots as Wally stumbled in. “Take a seat 00Shiten, I was hoping that I would see you sometime this month” said Shiten’s ceramic sensei.  He well knew that our hero* had been on a Lidl bargain wine box and kebab bender since the Swindon Winter Image Show but he was the ONLY man* for the job.  “No need to remove your jacket” he continued, “I said don’t………….”.  Too late, Erotic Wally removed his outer layer to reveal his latest psychedelic outfit much to the pain and suffering of anyone in eye-shot.  Wally was fast becoming a disgrace to the Shiten Secret Service and was only being kept around as he was the only one daft enough to take on some of the more dangerous assignments.  P rummages around his desk drawers for some industrial strength welding goggles and then continues the briefing.
“I take it that you have heard that our good friend Baldfeld is back on the scene?”  “Really?”, replied Wally “so the Costa Cartel hit was unsuccessful then?”  “Exactly how much have you had to drink man, you were there!” exclaimed the frustrated monkey.  “Well, erm, not too sure sir really, what month is it again?” replied Wally sheepishly.  “Pull yourself together man or I’ll revoke your Licence to Pot”.  “No, no, not that P, it’s my life’s work”, well that and growing shite trees Wally thought.  “OK, one last chance, so here’s the gig, pay attention 00Shiten” growled the frustrated Shiten.

“As you are aware Wally, the BSB is making a high level visit, along with the Japanese and European Ambassadors, to RHS Wisley and we need a man on the inside.  We cannot discount the rumoured threats from BOBO who are understood to be sending some of their top, top agents”.  “Anyone I’ve ‘eard of Sir?” enquired the swiftly sobering agent.  “Well if the stories are to be believed it appears that Gingemember and Woodnibbler will be Baldfeld’s weapons of choice but be prepared for ANYONE and ANYTHING!” declared P.  “We’ve managed to infiltrate you as an exhibitor in the Mame section.  Miss Mamepenny's idea as she says that you are an expert on “smaller sizes” but what she means by that I do not know – what do bloody women know about Bonsai anyhow?”  Slowly, our hero* felt his face turning as red as his natty trademark bowler hat.  Yes, he had tried to impress P’s secretary with his fine specimens but she just laughed and blew him off.  “I’ve been trying to learn ‘er the Shiten Way sir”, Wally replied sheepishly “seems like I’ve done too good a job!”  “Excellent man, no time to lose, so off you trot, wouldn’t want to keep you” urged P “oh, and by the way 00Shiten, don’t make an exhibition of yourself – AGAIN!”
(*we use this term loosely!)


 

Tuesday, 24 January 2017

Shite Trek – The Journey Home

Captain’s Log Supplemental
Due to disruptions in the space-time continuum, sub space communications with Starbase Shite have been severely disrupted but we think the Shitesurprise’s boosted signal is now coming through………



Stardate 28-02.1230
As the conference progressed Helmsman Pearson notice an alien infestation on some of his unglazed wares.  The more he looked, the more they bred, the more they bred, the more he looked – what could this be and where did they come from?  He first noticed a faint spec which then grew and grew finally becoming a solid semi sphere of silver.  Further investigations by the crew found that the Shitesurprise must have been boarded during Captain Chrome-domes emergency caffeine stop.  With the finger now well and truly pointing at the Costa Cartel rumours were abound of a weapon that they had secretly been working on – Nano Tribbles!
 

These ultra-hi-tech weapons of mass replication were created to infiltrate and eradicate higher types of lifeforms and technology. It seems that this batch must have malfunctioned and seen the chief Shiten Slinger as a danger to ceramics as we know it.  We all ACTUALLY know that it’s Suteki Simon who is the chief culprit of crimes against ceramics* but as these little critters had gone haywire so that would explain the mistake!  These pots had to be isolated at once but it seems that the delegates liked the shiny domes and soon the infestation was over, well, until the unknowing new owners got their infected pots back home that is!

Stardate 28-02.1500
News crackled across the comms that some important announcements were about to take place concerning the strange folk wandering around with sticks earlier in the day.  This information seemed to cause much excitement amongst some of the delegates so it was phasers to stun, just in case of any alien shenanigans.  It turned out to be the prize giving for the Best Trees/Displays of the conference so no need for the crew to panic as there was no “Shite” Award – or so we thought!  Amongst the great and the good it was decided that Security Chief Will “someones gunna get hurt real” Baddeley won the award for “Best Stick in Pot”.  His English Elm raft* in its custom-made container swept the board beating more conventional alien creations and well done to him!



With all the excitement over it was soon time to pack the Shitesurprise and head back out into the Big Black at warp factor 9 and plan next year’s invasion!


(*it wasn’t originally a raft but it seems that the trees decided it was the best way to try and escape Suffolk – that or a canoe!)

Thursday, 3 November 2016

Shiten Pouge’s Gallery Pt.9


Name: Les Storey
AKA: Grandpa/Grown Up Baby
Position: Shiten Founder & First Aider
Status: Being Sarcastic
Claim to Fame: Cupping Ian St John's “luv spuds” & carrying Pele off in the World Cup 1966
Profile

Les’s Ferry cross the Mersey was torpedoed by the WBS and he was found years later washed up on the banks of the Medway.  Nursed back to health by the daft-side of the MBS his influence grew and soon became the spiritual leader of the Brotherhood of Shites.  What followed was the immaculate conception of the SBS firstly waging Holy war against Bonsai terrorist Abu Hands-free and then becoming a beacon of light to the infirm and confused.  The rest, as they say, is hysterectomy!