Written by BrunetteGirl xxx
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Topics: Prison, Ian Huntley

Wednesday, 8 January 2014

image for Ian Huntley gets his knickers in a twist!
Maxine Carr's extremely pissed off face "How dare you do this Ian"

HMP Frankland prison officers stifled there giggles as they walked into a room to unexpectedly find that familiar figure Ian Huntley, dancing in his ex-partner Maxine Carr's dress. Huntley who is now a successful cleaner behind bars, was slut dropping with his Vacuum Cleaner Noo-Noo when he was caught wearing this dog's dinner of a dress. The beautiful floor length Victorian creation, short sleeved blue satin dress with ruffles and bowknot with a russet brown ribbon taut around the waist customised with metal mini bells that tinkled every time Huntley moved was a sight for sore eyes!

Huntley was currently in the middle of using Noo-Noo to groom his dog down who had run away and come back in a bit of a mess. Just as prison officers were about to take a video on their camera phones for Twitter, Huntley jumped in the air with shock when he noticed everyone watching, not used to people other than himself being an eye-witness. When asked where he got the dress from, he replied "It belongs to Miss Carr; she's not very good she didn't get the job so she gave it me". Ringing laughter emerged from the officers; Huntley quickly regained his arrogant demeanour and started throwing his weight around, smoking and flicking cigarette butts all over the floor. Still as scandalous as he always was, not long ago he was escorted to the convict's beauty salon to have a treatment known as a pejazzle!

He continued to scowl at officers as they mimicked him grinding and in a fit of rage started brandishing Noo-Noo's dust bag, letting it collapse all over the prison guards to intimidate. "Naughty Noo-Noo" Huntley kept repeating as Noo-Noo went to work, slurping and sucking pretty dust patterns all over their faces. Things were starting to turn nasty until a prison guard grabbed a broom from the corner when Huntley wasn't looking, wacked him hard across the backside and chased him out the room spanking him. As for the dog, the prison officers told her they were very sorry but she couldn't stay there. She growled and went running off snarling baring her teeth with her 'Ian's Bitch' collar round her neck.

A temperamental Huntley with tears in his eyes began to yell obscenities at the officers as he attempted to flounce off back to his cell, but it appears he was struggling to walk at all. With his new bulky muscles as a result of weekly weight lifting sessions, he had only just about managed to squeeze himself into the dress never mind breathe in it. He wobbled back down the corridor wheezing as the dress was just so tight!

2 hours later, howling laughter was reported to have come from the direction of Huntley's cell. Curious prison guards smelled a rat, dubiously walked over and found huge block capital letters on the door of his cell saying 'MODUS OPERANDI IN ACTION'. Bewildered officers then looked through the window and to their amazement, amongst Huntley's decorated cell of camouflage wallpaper and aeroplane models suspended from the ceiling were 20 pissed teenage schoolgirls making themselves at home.

They had come in fancy dress in 1940s Female Captain RAF Uniform and were sat in a semi-circle on the floor laughing and jeering as they looked up at Huntley who was sat perched overlooking them on his high rise prison bed in the shape of a cockpit. He sat and read them extracts from the book The Blood We Share by Wayne Huntley, mocking every time he spotted one of his brother's spelling mistakes. Still sat in the dress and now wearing a short wavy auburn wig he'd nicked from the drama department, he switched his voice between his and Maxine's, doing impressions as 'Ca plane pour moi' played in the background.

A prison officer slyly crept into the room so as not to disturb, he watched how Huntley was in his slimeball mode, using several cheesy chat up lines that got no response in his bid to smooth talk the girls. He even jangled the bells on his dress at one point and made rash proposals of marriage to at least 10 of them, yelling who would be his next bride or rather Maxine's groom in this case! Luckily they all turned their noses up at the offer of eloping to Gretna Green by prison van and a raging brawl for their wedding night entertainment.

Just as he was regaling them with a ridiculous tall tale of how "there was once an RAF helicopter at risk of smashing into the Grimsby Heinz factory" the prison officer alerted his presence by whistling. The girls screamed as they were caught, pleading with him not to ring their parents. It took 5 prison officers to handcuff them all and prize them out the cell, dragging them along the floor on their hands and knees, grunting at the truanting madams that they wanna think about getting back to studying Shakespeare. Frankland's oldest prison officer Frederick who at 88 is still going strong apart from his soiled knickers, chucked a sweet baby-faced blonde over his shoulder and said "when I was your age and bunking off, my old ma used to give us the slipper, smack us over the head with a chop bone and lags like Huntley were in the ground! ".

Huntley cockily raised his one and only eyebrow and waved as the final girl looked back at him worriedly as she was dragged with her legs up in the air in her RAF skirt down the corridor by rough beefcake officer Gaston, who by now had whipped his top off and was getting a kick out of showing his dominance, flexing his biceps displaying his black tribal warrior transfer tattoo. Huntley smirking as he has scratched that tattoo off many times, kicked back in his throne and gave a Maxine laugh a dirty cackle. But the laugh was soon wiped off his smug face, as he was told he was now banned from attending the 'Cooking Steaks whilst Farting' competition.

A pissed off Huntley, who was looking forward to making his inmates keel over, stuck his fingers up then ran around the room pretending he was an aeroplane then started marching round his cell imitating the Air Cadet's drill sequence shouting "I, Ian Huntley herby solemnly promise on my honour to serve my Unit loyally and to be faithful to my obligations as a member of the Air Training Corps. I further promise to be a good citizen and to do my duty to God and the Queen, my Country and my Flag". With that he grabbed his air rifle from the corner and aimed at the prison officer's bum but missed and shot a big hole in the snooker table instead, becoming a very grumpy Maxine Carr and trust me this isn't a good thing!

Needing to let off some steam, a vain pampering session began where he took great pleasure in hogging the tin bath amongst Delroy Grant's floating toenails he'd left behind. Huntley sat blowing bubbles and preening for hours, ready to go on the pull Friday night at the prison, touting for business around the legless blokes at the happy hour in the canteen. He was on a good hit rate having dragged a fair few back to his den. The Frankland prison remix of 'Jailhouse Rock' was blasting on loop through his loudspeakers, which was angering the other prisoners who were effing and blinding outside the bathroom, threatening to kick the door down as he had been in their ages and moaning cause he'd took up all the hot water.

For some odd reason he then decided to get his ass down to the gym! He swaggered into his favourite place with a can of lager shouting "hey crazy gang venture, adventure" revelling in the shock factor as the other inmates noticed he was wearing a dress and mouthed "prat". He had decided he was going to be a bit more macho now and had discarded the wig. "Dude you gonna work out like that?" asked Huntley's trainer. "You bet" replied a cocky Huntley, picking up the heaviest weights he could find and began weight lifting.

Soon the strain of the dress became too much and Huntley began violently wheezing, taking massive puffs of his inhaler with one hand whilst trying to lift a heavy weight with the other. "Do you wanna carry on?" asked the trainer. "After my long career spent in the RAF I'm a fighter not a quitter" replied Huntley. It seemed though that quitting may be his only option, dripping beads of sweat leaving his dress soaking wet now reeking of BO Maxine would be repulsed!

Huntley lifted his weights too far up in the air and the alarming sound of ripping filled the room. "Oi you've snagged the fabric" bellowed gobby Charles Bronson doing his cheerleading in the corner and was dressed girly himself in a custom built fat cheerleading outfit. He was currently making one of his many visits to Prison Frankland before being transferred again. From the top all the way to the bottom, a large tear had emerged in the dress. Bursts of laughter came from every person in the gym; they couldn't quite believe how Huntley was the butt of everyone's jokes again. It wasn't the first time he had shamelessly embarrassed himself during a gym session, on a previous occasion he had lost control of the treadmill flying him forward and knocked two of his teeth out!

Huntley though was horrified at what he'd done to his beloved dress and went ballistic, beating his chest and he chucked the gym equipment at the wall. Suddenly believing he could see a silhouette of unemployed Maxine's angry face appearing in front of him, shooting him daggers and cursing at him mouthing "you stupid wanker" flipped Huntley over the edge. Like a silverback gorilla let loose out its cage, he burst out the gym fleeing into the corridor running fast like lightning still beating his chest.

Officers decided not to pursue him, believing he would only go back to his cell for a sulk. But they were wrong; not long after, the prison governor Paddy Fox reportedly put an alert out at 6:15 PM funnily enough. A fire had been set off in the prison grounds that had Huntley written all over it. Ugly thick black clouds were said to have dominated the skyline of the prison, a frantic call was made by HMP Prison Service to the emergency services a fire engine was required urgently or kiss goodbye Frankland Prison!

The firefighters eventually turned up after stopping for a McDonalds first. They managed to get the fire under control before any damage was achieved and then went round the corner to the prison garden to retrieve a near unconscious Huntley who was knee-deep in cow dung, slumped forward staring at his hands looking like he'd just fell down a chimney. Coughing, spluttering and dribbling he was still clutching onto the dress which he'd ripped off, now a dirty old rag. He was found wearing nothing apart from his leopard print boxers!

Maxine's pissed off face was still haunting him, dancing round his head snapping "No marriage and babies now Ian, no marriage and babies". At first he tried to reason with her, even promising that he'd allow her to thrash him at Scrabble later on. This was a real challenge for Huntley as any previous occasions where he's been the loser had ended up with the scrabble board wrapped round her neck. But after repeating "no marriage and babies" for the 40th time and her blowing her cheeks in and out to annoy him, Huntley screamed "well flippin get Frankie Boyle to be ya sperm donor then you c*nt" much to the surprise of the emergency crew.

Realising he was in no fit state to walk and complaining of fatigue, firefighters summoned for a mobility scooter to come around the corner to collect him. Huntley a broken man, stood up and was shaking violently, shifting his weight repeatedly from one leg to the other. However he still remained articulate when questions were thrown at him which was amusing. They asked him if he wanted them to go and fetch his battered fake leather jacket for him to wear but he declined repeating "they're gonna arrest me" in a low murmur. The firefighters still with McChicken round their faces and fed up of Huntley's ranting were about to keg him but then his legs suddenly gave way again as he spotted the mobility scooter come whizzing round the corner with its arms outstretched.

The UK's press had got a tip off over the fire and were causing a stampede in the grounds as they gathered with their reporters and cameras. Prison Governor Paddy Fox, who was very agitated, was pacing furiously up and down wagging his tail outside the prison and kept jumping showing his claws failing to control the crowds. Flashbulbs went off and a few cabbages were thrown as Huntley zoomed round the corner into view with a sooty face, right on cue he was highly emotional and faking a very well-acted asthma attack. Still clutching onto the old rag, he pressed a button on the scooter and yelled "Venture, adventure".

Suddenly the scooter rode him along at 70 mph with Gaston running to try and catch up with it. Huntley fantasising he was back on his motorcycle had set the controller to its highest speed. Fuelled with adrenaline, he was too busy looking up towards the sky plane spotting to notice he was steering himself in the wrong direction, turning sideways only to plough straight through a hedge. Before he knew it, he was screaming "helpppppp" as he fell down a steep drop. He smashed the scooter tumbling straight off it, letting it fly in the opposite direction and then he somersaulted in the air where he did an impressive roly-poly down a hill finally crashing in a dismal murky forest.

A poacher hiding out in the forest scared for his safety watched as a man who he recognized as Ian Huntley nosedived through the trees straight into the forest. He gave an eye-witness account of what happened next. Huntley lying there battered, bruised and powerless to do anything reportedly gave the perfect excuse for a wild primitive unevolved mad man to seize his moment and suddenly come scurrying out the bushes clutching a red rose. A black eyed Huntley automatically held out his hand thinking he would be helped up and offered a beer but was left stunned when the man started making his apologies and rambling on about how hungry he was quoting from the bible "Give up your son so we may eat him".

Instead seeing Huntley as nothing more than a piece of meat, he commented on how he could do with some flavour and dowsed him in barbecue sauce. He then stroked his face and asked "would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?" A confused Huntley replied "Yes", the man's eyes brightened indicating the wrong answer for Huntley's fate and without warning he bit his throat. As you can imagine the cannibal went back into the bushes a very happy man that night. As for the ragged kinky old dress he ran off with that as well, pleased he finally had some decent toilet paper!

A very eventful end indeed to the dysfunctional life of
Ian Kevin Fucking Huntley!

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