Senior detectives based in the once sleepy seaside coastal town of Worthing, admitted today that they are "absolutely baffled" as to the purpose behind the so-called 'Worthing Code' - a system of communications devised by somebody in Worthing, which has now gone global.
"One of our intelligence officers was reading a book entitled 'The Dorking Review' and havin' a right proper old chuckle to himself, when he inadvertently intercepted a call, which at first appeared to be complete gobbledegook," said Detective Chief Inspector Barney Owle. "He recorded the message, which said something about somebody wanting to Bradford a Ducie Grayson. The response was something like, okay but only if you Pomfroy my London Eye with a big Douglas down by the Fitzwilliams."
The finest minds in the station - including Constable Barnet, who can occasionally complete the Sun crossword (but only the coffee time clues) - had a listen to the tape, but none could make head nor tail of it.
A linguistics expert from The University Of Hull At Leeds, and some old chap who worked on the Enigma Code, who appeared to be at death's doorstep, were consulted, but they had no inkling as to what the true purpose of the call was either.
Within days, the method was being adopted by thousands across the country, and within a couple of months, it had spread across the globe through word of mouth, and word of keyboard on the internet.
"Everybody's doing it now," Constable Barnet complained. "And it's getting out of hand. I mean, we can't work out if this is some kind of secret code or not - let alone what the heck it's all about. Whole bloody world's gone completely doolally if you ask me. Anyway, sod it. I'm off home for a bath and a nice piece of cod and chips, washed down with a beer or ten, and I'm throwing a sicky tomorrow. I've had enough of all this shitten bollocks."
Right at this very moment, utterly meaningless messages are circulating the globe faster than a pandemic.
The messages are confusing, containing instructions such as, for example, show us yer Gloucesters, I want to Birkenhead your Windsor Safari Park, or Burnley your Boltons, or Preston your Crawleys. The responses are equally bizarre - that'll be five Dudleys, two Redditch's and a Droitwich, Evesham, Reading, Poole, Canvey Island, Benfleet.
Even the world's greatest detective, Shylock Humes was baffled. Speaking from his apartment in Candlestick Maker Street, he told reporters: "Don't look at me. I'm fucking clueless, I am. It's probably something to do with sex or drugs, but I don't really know, though I am loath to admit such shortcomings. This is a five pipe problem, so I'm off for a nosh on me meerschaum. No amount of 'elementary my dear Watsons,' or 'deduction' is going to sort this fucker out. Not without the generous assistance of the seven percent solution. And plenty of it."
DCI Barney Owle recoiled in utter revulsion, as if suddenly smitten in the midriff by a cruise missile, when one reporter suggested that there may be a clue in the novel, 'The DaVinci Code' by American pulp scribbler, Dan Brown.
"Oh, do fack orf!" DCI Owle growled. "It's bin a fackin' looooong day!"
The investigation continues.
More as we get it.