Concerns regarding the wellbeing of crap Spoof writer Skoob, who went for a walk in the woods because everybody and his mother were taking the piss out of his small, nay, insignificant, beaver splitter, were allayed when he returned in the early hours of this morning.
Alongside his long-suffering wife, the formidable Mrs Skoob, we were anxiously wondering as to his fate, when he blundered in through the back door at 7:02 am GMT.
He looked haggard and windblown.
"Where's ya been?" Mrs Skoob asked him, with no hint of aggression.
"Not with another woman, before you ask," the recalcitrant writer grunted.
"Well I knew that already," Mrs Skoob chuckled. "What self respecting woman would want a bloke with a miniscule penis like yours? My little toe is bigger..."
"OH JUST FUCK RIGHT OFF! THE LOT OF YOU! YOU'RE WORSE THAN FUCKING SEAGULLS!" the writer known as Skoob ranted.
Nothing further happened.
But if it should, we'll bring you more as we get it