Following receipt of many enquiries from overseas (in particular, Iceland and Tanzania) we can now confirm that the bargains offered in BARGAIN CORNER may now be purchased by readers from overseas.
It couldn’t be easier. Just email an order to this organ and Mrs Agnes Penberthy, who does the cleaning in the Roundup offices will "parcel ‘n up fer ee" for a small fee of only £74 per item. For a further £76, she will put a stamp on the parcel and take it to the Relubbus Post Office and send it off to you!!
BARGAINS
Baby’s dummy (‘pacifier’ for our many American readers) made of extremely delicate and beautiful hand-blown Sancreed glass. Has a small cut, so reduced to giveaway £17. Email RR or 'phone Molly on Pz 578321
Flip-flops fashioned from local granite - to be secured to feet with strong string (string holes already made in one flip-flop!) – gents – size 12. Only £480 the pair. Email RR or 'phone Mr Rescorla on Paul 7624.
Dried Cowpats!! It is the latest craze in St Buryan!! Use them as a discus in sports competitions. Use them as fuel (yes, beat the credit crunch that way!!). Or wear them as an unusual -- but eye-catching -- hat! Or, do as Mr Angwin of 4 the Terrace does, and eat them, “fer a bit croust!”. They come wrapped in protective aluminium foil. Email RR or 'phone Mr Polkinghorne on St Buryan 7634.
Safe Condoms! If you want to be happy, but safe and sure, then use Mr Polkinghorne’s double-wrapped aluminium foil condoms! Often thought of as useful in the kitchen, Mr Polkinghorne has found a good use for aluminium foil in the bedroom as well! Available in four sizes – 1.“normal”, 2.“a bit larger than normal”, 3.“a bit smaller than normal”, and 4. (the smallest) “why do you even bother, mate?”. Cost is £70 per 100 any size, except size No. 4 (the Goky), which is so popular in Pendeen that delivery there is reduced to only £68 per 100. Email RR or ‘phone Mr Polkinghorne on St Buryan 7634.
5,000 light bulbs (35 watt). Chinese fittings, therefore only £1.50. Email RR or ‘phone Qing Qang Wong on Pz 462812.
Ladies tights (black), with Cornish Chough motif. Only badly laddered on one leg – 75 pence. Email RR or ‘phone Shazzer on Ding Dong 342.
Gentleman’s antique Long Johns – scarcely without stain, even after 72 years – still unwashed, so very well preserved. Email RR or ‘phone Mabel (deceased owner’s daughter) on Tregeseal 7854.
Stone from Penzance beach, believed to be - easily - well over 70,000 years old. Ideally best sold to gullible tripper from Notting Hill or fashionable Hackney. However, owner cannot wait as he has to pay court fines of over £50,000. Therefore prepared to part with this one ounce ‘magnificent study in grey’ for a giveaway £52,000. Email RR or ‘phone Rupert on Newbridge 5621 (be prepared for long wait!).
Pint of urine – believed to be from the last true King Of Cornwall, one Terry of Botallack, and hence over 1,100 years old. This fine relic is now stored in a 2 litre Tesco’s lemonade bottle. No one can guess what magical powers this mysterious liquid can have. However, it is utterly unique – there being no other such Tesco 2 litre lemonade bottle so filled. If you want to possess this piece (sic) of Cornish history and have the necessary £75,000 to purchase it, you must email the RR now or just ‘phone Denis on St Just 4567.
Hearing aid – made of pure finest Irish linen – needs to be clipped around whole head to work well. Only of benefit to the totally deaf- requires car battery – shoulder support required and supplied. Available in purple and green or red and yellow - both only £27,500. Email RR or ‘phone Sally Trumpet on Hayle 456721.
Hearing Dog – fully trained – came top of his class 12 years ago – now sadly deaf himself and hence only 37 pence. Email RR or write (can’t hear ‘phone!!) D Tregear at the Caravans, Logan Rock.
Ladies’ Vibrator – made out of ancient Sapelli hardwood - one extremely careful owner – but contacts blown through overuse - hence vastly reduced price of 11 pence. Email RR or ‘phone Duchess of Cornwall at Highgrove 45612.
BEAT THE CREDIT CRUNCH – COME TO BARGAIN CORNER
BRONZE AGE BIKERS TERRORISE RELUBBUS
EXCLUSIVE
By undercover reporter Rendell Janner
The Roundup has uncovered disturbing evidence of a terrorist threat to Relubbus. Your intrepid reporter recently infiltrated a terrorist training camp at a secret location on Bodmin Moor. The purpose of the camp was to manufacture Bronze Age weapons of mass destruction (WMDs) -- i.e. swords.
My information is that these WMDs are to be turned against Relubbus!
The terror cell's leader, shown left, is a hairy biker known only as "Tommo". I learned that he is a renegade archaeologist with an extensive knowledge of Bronze and Iron Age weaponry and manufacturing techniques. He is the author of many popular works including the best-selling Dummies Guide to Archaeology, Iron Smelting for Fun and Profit, and How To Commit a Bronze Age Murder.
Tommo, from the notorious East Appleford estate on the Isle of Wight, was joined at the camp by a motley collection of New Age Travellers, American arms enthusiasts, Dutch folklore-junkies, German Neo-Goths, and Irish ex-IRA men.
No matter that it takes a considerable amount of time, skill -- and luck (the process is not perfect) -- to manufacture a single bronze blade; and that making and fitting the haft takes even longer: these weapons are deadly! As was proven when, during a session of drunken horseplay involving a mock duel, one of the trainees succeeded in slicing off his own arm!
Tommo, or "Dr Tommo" as he prefers to be known, first came to international notice as the discoverer of the famed Roman colony in Relubbus, which has miraculously survived unchanged since classical times. Its citizens wear togas, adhere to ancient Roman law, and -- until very recently -- were unaware of the existence of the modern industrialised world.
Why does Dr Tommo want to destroy Relubbus? Who knows? He is a charismatic but enigmatic character who speaks in a broad Isle of Wight accent that is often difficult for "overners" (people from the other side of the Solent) to understand.
From what I could piece together, it seems that, following his discovery of the Roman colony, he had a major disagreement with Councillor Billy Spargo, the Leader of the Greater Relubbus Urban Council (GRUC). According to Dr Tommo, the disagreement resulted from the misappropriation, by Councillor Spargo, of funds intended for future archaeological research. Mr Spargo was unavailable for comment yesterday.
RELUBBUS POETRY COMPETITION -- RESULT!
The Roundup is honoured to be able to publish the top two entries for the annual RELUBBUS POETRY COMPETITION, which are:
Meeting in Cot Valley
I leave St Just – a busy place – a full of purpose town,
And set off for Cot Valley - on the path that takes me down.
My soul knows these steps more surely than seemingly my feet -
It draws me down along the way –it knows whom I shall meet.
For parts of me came down here– long ago – this selfsame way
English had no meaning then - Kernewek chat all day.
Now I meet no one here, but I sense her company.
So, peel away the mists of time and let me see her face - Her eyes - the fire of my desire - her posture full of grace.
Her laughter - music of my soul, her smile – peace of my heart
Her presence - anchor of my being –O - do not let us part!
I feel sea spray upon my face – it wakens me to now.
I sense that she is gone again - and am left to wonder how
A person who was made for me – who was my partner true
Can leave me in this curl of time – my Sweet, I long for you.
I turn then back along the path and move with heavy tread
My body knows the way to go, but, sadly, not my head.
The thoughts of you are just as real as when you were just here
But I cannot kiss you now, my love, O, how I wish you near!
Pascoe Trembath (21)
Git Plumb Boy
Sixteen years old – short trousers still – daft cap upon ‘is ‘ead,
That silly bugger Archibald never knew the cat was dead.
‘Ee loved ‘un still, despite the smell, which was almighty strong,
But daftee never noticed that anything was wrong.
'Ee took ‘un to the vet and said “My mouser idden eating!”
The vet was shocked at such a sight and soon ‘ee started bleating!
“You git plum boy – daft as a brush – wha’s wrong with yer bleddy ‘ead?
That cat is done with ‘eatin’ - the thing is bleddy dead!”
Archibald was sad now – was quiet as the grave
‘Ee’d ‘ad that cat since just a boy and truly was its slave.
The git plumb boy was plumb no more – ‘is growing time was done
‘Is cap was gone, ‘is trousers long and childhood’s battle won.
Madron Barlewenna (18)
As usual, the winning entry was chosen by a panel selected from the Silver Thread Society of the Penlowarth Centre for the Extremely Aged in Penzance.
Gracie Angwin (104) stated, on behalf of the panel, 75% of whom were still alive, that Madron's poem was " 'ead an shoulders above the rest". They have accordingly given him the prize, which is a bottle of "Head and Shoulders".
COME TO RELUBBUS CHILDREN'S ZOO!
ADVERTISEMENT
If you are looking for a fun day out for the kids, then you need look no further than Relubbus Children’s Zoo (RCZ)!!
At RCZ, your little ones can actually get in with the animals, stroke them and touch them and get the sort of experience no other zoo is prepared to offer!!
All the animals on show are Cornish varieties and are perfectly safe for your little darlings.
Just hand your kiddies in to one of our keepers, like gorgeous 24-year-old Beverly (shown here on the left) or 19-year-old Madron, and you can take yourself off for a refreshing cup of tea in our parents’ hut (with Unisex toilet, with new wooden seat, and wash hand basin!).
Your kiddies can spend time with the Sancreed Lurcher and its pups. An unusual Sancreed breed, which is found nowhere else except in Southern Africa, the Lurchers are highly social. They typically emit a piercing high-pitched shriek when they are ripping the flesh from the living things hastily thrown into their compound for meals.
Nervous parents can be assured that children are never admitted to the pound BEFORE meals, only AFTER. This means that their little darlings should always be safe. They will be able to stroke the doggies and play with them without fear of being eaten*.
A particular favourite with the kiddies, is the ‘Mousehole cat’. The RCZ version is admittedly a little larger than the cat usually depicted as the Mousehole cat. Further, it does roar rather than miouw, but, if you can stand the halitosis, it IS a cutie to stroke. All kiddies are asked NOT to pull pussy's tail as he does get more than a bit impatient when the little dears do that and he has been known to scratch rather badly when tormented in this way.
Another animal, which is just a little more dangerous, is the Sennen Rat. Rats in Sennen do grow big, but this one is four times as big as those found in the wild – the pictured specimen is 12 feet tall. The rat pictured here, 34-year-old Carnegie, is the safest of all the rats. He is used to maltreatment, having been beaten about by the wardens ever since he was brought in as a baby. Darts can be obtained from the wardens for use in tormenting Carnegie, but it is very dangerous to use them on the other rats.
However, don’t worry, none of these animals misbehave when Bev is around!!
Entrance is only £15 per kiddie! Come to RCZ!!
* Usually, that is! Children under 2 years old should be accompanied by an older child (and not left alone with Madron).
HEAMOOR MAN IN LOVE TRIANGLE!!
Kwop Garage attendant, Denzil “Combover” Angarrack (39) of Bramangath Cottage, Heamoor has achieved notoriety by becoming the first Heamoor man to marry two women – sisters – at the same time, in the Heamoor mosque, located at his home, Bramangath cottage.
Denzil, a natty man-about-town, well known to the folk of Heamoor for his daring hairstyle, seems well able to cope with his new-found fame.
The two sisters, Pat (32) and Trish (34) Tregellis of Colinsey Road, Treneere, are both ‘relationship therapy assistants’ in Penzance, although neither of them has yet received any convictions.
The two girls are thought to have been completely unswayed in their decision to marry by Denzil’s claims to have recently had a big win on the lottery. Further, they were clearly not put off by his previous girlfriend’s nickname for him of “magnifying glass”.
The previous girlfriend, Tamsin (formerly Terry) ‘Balls’ Wakfer (38) of The Shed, Boscathnoe, was claiming yesterday to be completely indifferent to the sudden marriage of her boyfriend for twenty five years (“We wuz in the Scouts t’gether!”).
When quizzed about her feelings outside the Heamoor outlet of the RC Oates Superstore in which she is a hygiene assistant, she stated “anyone goin’ fer they two tarts d’need their bleddy ‘eads read!”
Referring to the supposed lottery win, she added, “they’ll be as lucky t’ find any money as they will be t’ find anythin’ useful in ‘is trousers.”
The two sisters, Pat and Trish, have readily embraced Islam, as has Denzil, who has converted his utility room into a mosque (‘although I ‘ad to leave the washin’ machine in there or I would’ve ‘ad ‘ell from my mawther!’).
In Denzil’s rather liberal interpretation of Islam, the primary (and, indeed, sole) religious requirement is to eat a bar of Fry’s Turkish Delight occasionally and, whilst doing so, to "do the music as well, an’ the girls gotta do the dence!”
The excited sisters have worked out a bedroom rota for Denzil, although Denzil’s mother, Agnes (91), who lives at Bramangath, says that she will decide what goes on under her roof.
The Roundup will continue to report on this unusual romantic liaison.
THE STORY OF ABNER CLEMO
Absent-mindedly, but with the sureness of familiar routine, Abner Clemo slowly strapped to his left thigh the well-worn, but sturdy, leather straps of his wooden leg before reaching down to pick up and similarly secure his right wooden leg to his other thigh. He always did it that way – left before right. He was a man who found great comfort in routine.
It was no easy thing for him to do. The same accident that took out his legs all those many years ago also left him with only a thumb and half a little finger on each hand – very difficult to tie your straps up like that! Anyhow, looking on the bright side, no one could call him “Wanker!”
Abner was the sort of man who believed in looking on the bright side. It never seemed to be where he was, so he kept looking for it elsewhere.
He looked up at the ceiling in his hut at what he called his ‘weather hole’. Whatever was happening outside was usually also happening inside thanks to the weather hole. It was so often streaming with rain that he had placed a bucket beneath it. Today the bucket was quiet, empty and dry – no rain – yet, at any rate.
Screwing up his good eye. he could just make out what appeared to be a clear blue sky. It was on just such a day, in his dreams, that Fiona Bruce (pictured left after her arrest for Saturday night drunken brawling) would ask him to marry her, so he now looked forward to the unfolding events of the day with an even greater relish than that usually afforded by his seemingly boundless optimism. Fiona’s picture had blown into his hut some years ago. It had caused him great excitement then and, ever since, had been a treasured possession.
He had long since got the hang of the bedsprings he had had attached to the end of his legs and, feeling the first stirrings of nature’s call, in three stout springy bounces, he had reached the stream in which he performed all acts of ablution.
For a man in his 95th year and with his complicated medical history, he was in astoundingly good form. With just the one eye up to something near scratch and deaf as a post, he still had an astonishingly good sense of smell, which was something of a curse in his case.
With an agility that belied his years, he emerged from the stream and bounded back towards the hut (pictured left), bellowing Fiona’s name at the release of each spring.
At the entrance to the hut, he stopped – naked and toothless – in total shock at the vision which awaited him inside…..
To be continued…
