Written by armfeetandtoe
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Monday, 9 April 2012

image for Lynton Erskin and Inchcock The Race Part the last Skoob determined to win tries to shoot the gang from the skies.

Arm ignored his friends and went to where the villains were spraying their potion.

"Oye! I want a word with you two" shouted an out of breath Arm.

"Blimey" cried Skoob "They've let the silly sod out".

"Shall we run or pelt him with rancid fruit?" asked C.J.

"We haven't got any rancid fruit" answered Skoob.

"RUUUNNNNN!!!!!!" screamed C.J.

The miscreants turned tail and had it away on their toes. Arm returned to the gang and accepted the drink that was handed to him. Clive nudged Lynton and asked an awkward question.

"What did he go to prison for?" asked Clive.

"He didn't" replied Lynton.

"But you lot asked him when he got out" whispered Clive.

"He went into a de-lousing clinic" interrupted Inchcock.

"Why?" enquired Clive sipping his cognac.

"Because Skoob and C.J. sold him what he thought was a new mattress, turned out to be one they had found outside the local doss house. They put a new cover on it so it looked new. A day later, Arm was invaded by an army of hangers on he did not want" explained Erskin.

"Will he beat them senseless?" asked Clive.

"No" laughed Lynton, "He will find a way of paying them back but we never use violence".

"It's the golden rule Clive" said Inchcock.

"Maybe a small kick up the arse but nothing serious" smiled Erskin.

With that, the gang got together and planned their next move. Monkey suggested getting the bus.
Erskin opted for a mini cab. Lynton thought roller skates would be good. Inchcock tried to explain his idea but was drowned out by the noise of his mates being hit by bird shit.

"Find cover!" shouted Lynton.

"Get under the trees" advised Erskin.

"Open the umbrellas!" cried Inchcock.

Arm heeded Inchcocks instruction and opened the canopies, handing them to the gang before the birds had chance to cover their targets in a whiter shade of pale. As quick as it had started, the bombing stopped. The feather clad bandits flew back to their sanctuary to cool their sore bums and ponder on the smell that had made them attack a small band of men, with huge canvas heads.

"That was worse than being bombarded by the Argies on Walkers Creek" said Arm.

"Oh how we laughed when they sent over them dud gas shells" remembered Lynton.

"I got shot at by a lone soldier that was lost" put in Erskin.

"Why did he shoot at you?" asked Clive.

"Because he had nicked my compo rations while I was asleep" answered Inchcock.

"I thought you were an Argie" laughed Erskin.

"Rubbish" said Inchcock as he passed his friend a drink. "You put two eggs in my Bergen".

"We were not lost our brief was to watch the Argie grunts digging in on Goose Green. I went up a bit higher and found a little dip that made a nice camp. Inchcock was packing up and decided to have a little me time and fell asleep that's when Erskin made his daring raid on the compo rations" informed Lynton.

"It was nice up there until Skoob and C.J. arrived" smiled Erskin.

"What happened?" enquired Clive.

"They decided to make money by selling rifles and ammunition to the locals" answered Inchcock.

"Gun running that's very serious" said Clive.

"They acquired them from the gun shop in Saladero, ran through the Argie lines at Goose and set up shop in our bunker. With all the coming and going we were sussed and El Grocco started sending over little parcels loaded with gunpowder and shrapnel" explained Lynton.

"Right" said Erskin in his best Sargent Major voice. "Let us get a move on or we will be skint".

From nowhere, Arm and Monkey produced an eight seat Micro light aircraft that resembled a do it yourself kit that had gone seriously wrong. However, it had been tested and could fly.

"Going on your holidays boys" Smirked Erskin.

"Look, it's the Wright brothers" laughed Inchcock.

"You mean the Wrong brothers mate" said Lynton, shoulders shivering with mirth.

"Why is Pinxit sitting in the driver's seat?" asked Clive.

"Because he is a retired pilot and did not crash over Rio Grande" answered Arm.

"Rio where?" enquired Clive.

"I flew over the Falklands mate!" shouted Pinxit from his seat.

"He was meant to be flying over Cyprus" smiled Lynton.

"Not my fault the map was upside down" said a dejected Pinxit.

"So was he" roared Monkey as he lay on the path laughing.

"How did he know he was upside down" asked Clive.

"The shit was running out of his collar" cried Monkey.

"Enough of this tattle!" ordered Erskin "Squad!...Squaaadd! Shun!

The gang stood stock still and waited for Erskin to speak. Clive Danton tried not to laugh but his tolerance to this band of mad men and their hilarious antics had him foxed and he began to laugh.

"Quiet when you laugh in front of a retired Sargeant Major!" ordered Inchcock.

"Is he an insurgent?" asked Lynton.

"A commie more like" advised Monkey.

"Shall I turn the engine over?" enquired Pinxit.

"Yes" replied Erskin" turn it over to the police".

Lynton, Inchcock and Erskin moved away from the rest of the boys and held an emergency meeting.

"What shall we do?" asked Inchcock.

"Shall we fly in this contraption?" enquired Lynton.

"Remember when we were in Arat and it looked like the end? We swore we would never give into fear again no matter what the situation and we have stuck to that ethos ever since" replied Erskin.

"So we are flying then" said Lynton.

"Are we feck!" responded Erskin.

"What have we got to lose?" asked Inchcock.

"Our testicles for one" laughed Lynton.


"It's the only way to beat the beastie boys let's go!" ordered Erskin.

The three Amigos returned to the fold and started to load themselves into the flying coffin. Arm strapped the gang in and then climbed aboard. Pinxit primed the engine and pressed the start button.

"Anyone have a bible" Asked a nervous Clive Danton.

Silence engulfed the shaking, clacking motorised kite as it trundled along the path toward take off.

"Wow!" exclaimed Inchcock." people look like ants from here".

"They are ants you div" shouted Lynton "We have not left the ground yet".

As each member of the gang crossed themselves the contraption left the ground. Pinxit steadied the controls, checked his trim and studied the sat nav. flying like a bird without wings the aircraft turned to port and made its way toward the tea kiosk and victory.

Skoob and C.J. had been waiting by the near Kensington Gardens. Their hours had been spent rigging the trees with flour bombs and laying treacle mines along the path in the hope to slow the gang down.

"What sort of bird is that then" asked Skoob pointing skyward.

"By the sound it's a petrol driven kite know as a microliter" answered C.J.

"Wow, how do they get so many people in such a small craft" enquired Skoob.

"Let me have a gander" said C.J. taking the binoculars off Skoob.

"Gits, they are flying into the finish line we must stop them" said C.J.

"Are you talking about def.con zero C.J?" asked Skoob.

"Yes, get Mark Lowton on the blower" replied C.J.

Far above a London park, the gang of lunatic writers were enjoying the vista from their overladen bit part built aircraft. Pinxit checked the controls and satisfied himself all was as it should be.

"What's that black smoke coming from the engine?" asked Clive.

"Exhaust" replied Lynton.

"And pretty exhausted this bucket looks" said Inchcock.

"Prepare for crash landing!" shouted Pinxit.

"Did he say get your cash ready on landing?" asked Erskin.

"No" offered a worried Lynton "He said get ready for crash landing".

Pinxit struggled with the controls but try as he might they got the better of him. With the skill and dexterity of a blind mountain guide Pinxit lined up the craft for an emergency landing at the tea kiosk quite near Speakers Corner. And it was quite near the kiosk.

"Brace, Brace, Brace!" shouted Pinxit.

"What does he mean?" called Erskin "I don't wear braces".

"Put your head between your knees" advised Clive.

"You are having a laugh" said Lynton "We struggle to put our teeth in a glass".

"Remember the Alamo!" shouted Erskin.

"Why?" cried Clive as he lay between the chairs

"Don't be racist" laughed Inchcock.

Arm and Monkey went toward the pilot and helped him gain control of the situation. With their experience and knowledge the craft hit the ground with an almighty crash. After skidding for several yards our intrepid gang and their bucket came to a halt outside the tea kiosk at Speakers Corner.

"And for your next trick?" asked Erskin.

"Got you here didn't I?" answered Pinxit.

"Have we won?" asked Inchcock.

"Of course" said Lynton "Where is Pinky and Perky?"

From behind the kiosk Skoob and C.J. Emerged, with them was the world's authority on historic boundaries. Mr Mark Lowton. They approached the gang with an air of authority.

"So you think you have won?" asked Skoob.

"Yes" said a bruised Erskin.

"I don't think so" answered a cocky C.J.

"Why is that?" enquired Lynton.

"Cos the finish line we marked at the start of this race has been moved by the boundaries commission and you bunch of geriatrics have just lost your deposit and your money" laughed C.J.

"Is that right" answered an irate Inchcock. "Does Marks Mum know he is up this late?"

"That's a bit low" said Skoob putting his head down.

"Okay, let's come to an arrangement" offered Erskin.

"You mean we don't have to pay you the money?" bleated Skoob.

"No you hooligan, you are going to pay!" shouted Lynton.

"I think they should book us a table at Hibiscus and then a drink at the Cole Hole" said Inchcock.

"What about the cleaning bill from the bird attack" put in Clive.

"Tell you what" interrupted C.J. "How about a double or quits?"

"And how?" enquired Erskin.

"A race to Paris" answered Skoob.

Before the gang had time to ponder, Monkey stepped forward and took Skoob's hand.

"You are on mate" said Monkey.

"Right" ordered C.J. "A table awaits us and a bar is calling us you bunch of loonies".

"Thank god for that" sighed Lynton "I would have been happy to see a burger van".

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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