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Monday, 30 April 2012

image for Local Man Pays £300 To Have 3,000th Spoof Published As Wife Runs Off With Dodgy East End West Ham Loving Car Mechanic
Shuttlecock Relaxing At Home Reading The Dorking Review Yesterday

A distraught Martin Shuttlecock, one time Dorking resident, now of Titchfield, somewhere near the Isle Of Widget, today revealed that he has been forced into paying £300 in order to have his latest Spoof news item published.

"Ten pee a story doesn't sound too exhorbitant, at first," Shuttlecock explained. "But when you hit 3,000 stories, it all adds up. It's cost me three hundred pound so far. And that doesn't even include the Magazine malarkey."

As if shelling out three hundred in folding wasn't bad enough, Shuttlecock also revealed that he'd endured quite a traumatic time during a 'meet and greet' at a pub in London's famous Strand, in the shadow of The Savoy Hotel.

"I went there with the wife," Shuttlecock revealed. "To celebrate my 3,000th Spoof News story, and the upcoming release of The Dorking Review - Volume 2, which will probably sell billions of copies like the first one, making its creators rich beyond their wildest dreams, and sort of spending time with like minded individuals, and having a laugh and that. But it was a disaster."

It seems that Shuttlecock not only shelled out fifty pound for petrol, then twelve pound to park the Renault Kangoo in Richmond, followed by fifteen pound fifty for train tickets, but he then discovered that the pub he was visiting didn't even sell his favourite tipple.

And his long suffering wife, Anne, promptly ran off with a West Ham supporting garage mechanic.

Who was somewhat ironically wearing a pork pie hat.

Leaving Shuttlecock all lost and alone in the big bad city.

"It started off all right," he said. "The usual villains were present, plus a couple I hadn't met before. It all seemed to go well for a bit - at least until it was my round. Lynton ordered coffee. Coffee! In a pub! What's that all about? Then I met Danton. Oh God! The slathering and the sporatic nastiness kicked off then. It was a terrible business. I was really concerned for the wife for once - I mean, she had an episode earlier this year regarding her health, so I felt quite protective."

Witnesses reported that at some point, Shuttlecock went outside for a smoke with fellow Spoofer Pinxit and that Ellis Ian Fields announced that he was leaving because he had better things to do, when Anne Shuttlecock and Mathilde De La Mole jumped up on a table and started doing the can-can. At which point, the predominantly Greek bar staff started lobbing glasses at the traditional stone fireplace.

"It was total chaos," Shuttlecock stated. "Danton was dancing about in a fighting stance saying something like 'Let's Ave it! You want some? You mug?' and then Colonel Juan started a fight with Lynton about who was the best boxer ever, Muhammad Ali or Tommy Cooper - I was really scared. Anne and Mathilda kept on doing the can-can, and Lynton's lad suddenly turned on me and said that he fucking hated Manchester United anyway. Me and Pinxit fled outside to try to get Ellis to come back and sort it out because apparently he's a bit tasty in a ruck - but he'd gone. When I got back, Anne had run off with Danton. There was broken glass everywhere. And to cap it all, it was raining outside. I walked back to Embankment station alone, inconsolable, in the pouring rain. Proper dampened me spirits were. Then the Colonel and Mathilde said they never wanted to hear from me ever again because I'm a big arse, and now my entire life is in tatters. I can't believe my wife just ran off like that. I never thought it would happen, what with her arthritic knees and that - I didn't think she was capable of running anywhere."

Shuttlecock stated that he wished he had something funny to report in his milestone 3,000th Spoof News article, but as a friend pointed out - the other 2,999 were all crap, so why change it?

Today he is a broken man. A sad case.

"And a dickhead," long suffering wife Anne added, as she passed Danton a spanner in a garage in London Fields, off the Cambridge Heath Road. Up the East End.

Smiling contentedly. And acting uncharacteristically cocquettish.

"I wish we'd gone to Dorking now. You know where you stand with Dorking." a distraught Shuttlecock reported as he slurped on a can of Special Brew on a bench up the shops, with a whippet on a piece of tatty old string. "Do you like me new dog? He's all I've got left these days - and even he bites me. The bastard."

More as we get it.

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

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