Baconslicer V. Zen
Strawberry Wanderers have scored again from a pass from Cream Puff Clarence (the cross-eyed
centre-forward) to their immaculate and insanely grinning new striker, Mr. Zen, a snip at a mere
twelve million dollars and formerly with the Hiroshima Flashbacks.
Uh-oh but here comes trouble in the form or every Evertonian's favourite rottweiler, dumpy Kevin
Baconslicer, double-trouble after the recent breakup of his marriage to Hollywood powderbrain Variety
Jane, star and single brain-cell of the sell-out 'Steven Spielberg Ate my Grandmother' in which she
played a cratchety old grandmother transformed into a next to naked young research student after she
'accidently' fell into a large tub of chili and avocado dip that had been doctored with pyschotropic
enzymes by the evil film producer Seismic Overload, placed by Arnold Kadaver, the ex-mayor of Los
Angeles who had tired of politics and had broken back into celluloid and steroids with a vengeance.
Baconslicer's own mediocre attempts to break into the movie industry with 'Dirty Footballer's: the
Highlights' were ingloriously dashed when he sustained a groin injury attempting to drop-kick a doorman
in Wombats, the New York celebrity disco after he had been asked to leave as he simply wasn't famous
(or handsome) enough.
But the referee jaunty geordie Alex Lifeson, the illegitimate son of the octogenarian guitarist with
the prehistoric rock band Rush has spotted him and signaled to the linesmen to release the mobile video
cameras to follow him as an instant playback enquiry will almost certainly be called for. The foam
dribbling down Bacobslicer's chin is indication enough that the Evertonian Enema is spoiling for a fight
- although with at least three black beltss in karate Mr. Zen is no push-over. Alex wonders if he has time
to put some money on the Jap to knock seven bells out of Kevin but its too late now as one of the whirring
video satellites is already hovering behind him and genialy suggests that if he uses a certain brand of
smooth and soothing hair gel it will send the girls a go-go - yes, new Wash and Glo with dermatologicaly
enhanced radioactive isotopes to stimulate even the most recalcitrant follicles and lightly massage the
brain at the same time.
A cataclysmic confrontation is only narrowly avoided at the last minute when someone in the crowd kills
himself and takes out half of one of the stands when a mobile rocket launcher he was attempting to set
off blows up in his face (later investigations found the charred remnants of his pet cat Stompie wedged
down the tube). As paramedics rush to the scene to give triage and rifle through stunned victims pockets
(their wages are at an all time low and they have to take whatever opportunities present themselves),
Prime Time coverage of the game is cut to air a sudden channel-wide Newsflash.
Prince Jimmy, the official Royal adoptee and heir to the British Throne after a public poll found that
the British public overwhelmingly found all the other potential candidates complete twits and tosspots
they wouldn't even spit on, has been arrested and charged with running over a party of elderly blind
pedestrians whilst gunning down Abergele High Street on a quad-bike. The victims were on a day's outing
to the local market from the Abergele Residential Home for the Blind. Families moan with outrage in living
rooms across the land but then cheer patriotically when it is announced that the charge is a mere
technicality and the beloved Orphan should be released no later than Thursday in time to cut the ribbon
for the new twenty-four hour Fox and Grouse shooting reserve at Alton Towers.
"The Matron of the Blind Home is being sued for gross negligence and some say manslaughter would be too
light a charge," smug Gordon Frothing Bumbanger Q.C. reassures the nation wearing a pale lemon suit and
penelope pink tie matched by subtle rose eye-shadow and blusher. "The silly old coots were all quite as
blind as bats and should never have been allowed out in the first place. The Home is equipped with a
perfectly good Ping-Pong room and a wireless than can listen to Terry Wogan and Ken Bruce on - that's
ample provision for all their recreational and intellectual needs. Sir Ozzy Osbourne O.B.E. has sent a
Valentine's Day card, a Christmas Card and a Good Luck after your Operation card to the Prince;
unfortunately he sent them to the wrong address... for some reason he addressed them all to President
Putin c/o the Kremlin - what a silly billy our beloved Sir Ozzie is! - but sharp-sighted postie Bill
Smithers of Kensington WI spotted Ozzi's typographical gaff and made sure they were all delivered to
the correct address. I'm sure your smart thinking will be remembered when the New Year's Honours List
is announced, Bill!"
All the same, despite Frothing Bumbanger's avuncular words, by the time they are repeated on the Six
O'Clock News a large queue had gathered outside Buckingham Palace in support of Prince Jimmy and to
lay garlands of flowers outside the Royal Guard's sentry boxes.
On the front page of the following morning's Sun, Times and Daily Boobs there is a photograph of Kevin
Baconslicer and the still insanely grinning Mr. Zen shaking hands after laying down their own floral
tributes. But a re-match has also already been scheduled for Thursday and a bloodbath is eagerly expected
and anticipated by all!
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