MADRON MENDICANT EXPOSED AS MILLIONNAIRE

For many years, Beelzebub Bennet (94) has been a well-known face around Madron.  His lurking presence has perfumed its busy streets with his distinctive odour for as long as many can remember and for, at least, some fifty years.

His cheery grin, unadorned by teeth, and outstretched hands, unrestrained by any misplaced sense of shame, have welcomed many a charitable coin over those years.

It was said by Our Lord that "The poor you will always have with you" and so it came to pass that Bennet's constant presence has been accepted by the god-fearing folk of Madron as some necessary part of the street furniture.

He seems to have an uncanny sense for what he terms 'a loose coin' and approaches people with all the confidence of a metal detector to prise that loose coin from its erstwhile owner.

The good people of madron have always assumed that he must live in the most reduced circumstances and could always be relied upon to 'spare a bob for Beelzebub'.

It has therefore come as a huge shock to them to learn that his steady begging income has turned him into one of the richest men in West Penwith.

Using a reporter's technique known professionally as 'tailing', one of the Roundup's temporary junior assistant deputy under-reporters followed Bennet home and discovered that the professional beggar has done so well out of the people of Madron that he has been able to build a castle for himself near St Erth.

This imposing residence, known as 'Dunbeggin', was built at huge cost, using specially imported stone from Sweden.  Locals know nothing of the owner except that he is a recluse, who is only ever visited by his shapely Private Banking Manager, Tamsin Pengelly, who comes down from Truro on her moped to see him once a month.

When our reporter tried to confront Bennet, he quickly scuttled into the deep recesses of his castle, displaying a breathtaking turn of speed.  That was two days ago, since when he has not been seen - either at his castle or in Madron.

Madron residents, Edna and Pammie Trembath, both qualified gas fitters and a happy civil partnership couple - shown here delighted to be pictured in their favourite magazine - told the Roundup, "Ee've taken we fera ride, ee ave, the lill bugger!  Stop anywhere ona pavement upere and for yuduh knawit, eezere withiz andout! Course yuduh smellun for yuduh see ovun.  Well I kintellee, ee've adthe las' coin ee's gunnget outah we!"

Edna and Pammie aren't the only disgruntled Madron residents to react in this way to the news.  In a quick telephone survey, the Roundup has established that only 94% of the Madron population would now be prepared to 'spare a bob for Beelzebub'.

The Roundup will report further.

PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT

The Greater Relubbus Urban Council (GRUC) has today passed a law outlawing 'the passing of wind', which will be known as the 'No Farting Directive'.

The GRUC believes that everyone must 'do their bit' to cut down on the production of gases which contribute to the phenomenon known as Global Warming.

The Chief Scientist to the GRUC, Profesor Pol Pender (pictured), took air samples up and down Boswedden Lane last Saturday and found the levels of what he he terms 'fart gas' to be alarmingly high.

In part this can be explained by the fact that many people opt for a shop pasty when they are out shopping and the pastry in these is known to considerably increase the incidence of flatulence.

Professor Pender has calculated that, if the global population were to generate flatulence levels similar to those captured in Boswedden Lane, the global warming effect effect would cause a 20 metre rise in sea levels, which would put Newlyn Bridge under water.

In the interests of the people of Newlyn and elsewhere, a strict 'no farting' law is now to be applied. People are required - by law - to retain and reabsorb all and any gas.  Professor Pender insists that this retention practice is only 'likely to be fatal in less than 5% of cases'.

Equipped with special 'gas vision' glasses, the Relubbus constabulary will be able to impose spot fines of £10,000 - or amputation of a limb - on anyone breaking this new law.

Signs will be posted throughout Greater Relubbus.

PETS' CORNER

The good-natured readers of the Roundup have always responded well to the call from pets in need. We hope that this week's three little chaps will also win your affection and engage your willingness to help.

Good home wanted for cute l'il pup!

Playful pup, "Gnasher", is just three months old and is already having to look for a new home.

Sadly, his mum and dad had to be put down because they attacked and killed their owner and his family.   

Rodney Bolitho (55) of Colinsey Road, Penzance was the last of the six in his family to die, but even as he was being savaged  by Gnasher's mum and dad - with little Gnasher doing his level best to try to help them - Rodney, a dog-lover till the end, cried out to the the armed police coming, sadly far too late, to the rescue, "They din mean nuthin' by it - they're sum good dogs really!", before  his windpipe was ripped out in a speedy act of canine surgical precision.

Police quickly despatched the two older dogs in a hail of bullets, securing only minimal injuries to themselves before the bullets took full effect.  Gnasher was stunned by the sudden shooting of his parents, as well as by the maniacal clubbing administered to him to get him to release a policeman's leg.

Given his young age and in view of Mr Bolitho's dying recommendation, it was decidd to give young Gnasher a second chance.  A loving home is now sought for Gnasher in the West Penwith area.  Animal psychologists have - at some considerable and safe distance - determined that Gnasher might well benefit from being placed in a home with young children to help him develop.

If you are interested, just 'phone the Roundup, speak to Tamsin and ask for 'Gnasher'.

Good Cornish Home wanted!

Sukhbataar, a 14-year-old Mongolian golf-hamster, has a handicap of just 5.  

He likes a good full Cornish cooked breakfast to set him up for the day and, as this pciture show, is probably the only professional golfer to play in the nude.  

As he insists, "Come on, mate!  My body's covered in fur, who's going to notice?  Anyway, out on the the course, all the eyes will be on my playing and not on my body!"

Sukhbataar can earn between £150,000 and £200,000 a season and so probably doesn't deserve to be called a pet.  However, he is fed up living out of a proverbial suitcase in hotels and wants a good Cornish home with proper cooking.

Interested parties should know that he has - and will bring along - his own cage equipped with his favourite wheel and expansive run.

If you are interested, 'phone the Roundup, speak to Tamsin and ask for 'Sukhbataar'.

Looking for love?

Timothy (12 and neutered) is a (former) male of refined tastes currently living with a caring family in a caravan just outside Madron.  

In perfect health, except for a slightly weakened right eye, for which he wears an appropriately corrective eye-glass, Timothy does occasionally feel the urge for female companionship, despite the drastic surgery he underwent long ago.

Timothy is fond of freshly boiled fish, the warmth of an open fire and the sound of Bach piano concertos, which he finds particularly comforting whilst licking his arse.  

He would like to meet a discerning female (feline or human) who would share his interests and give him the benefit of any sexual doubt.

If you are interested, 'phone the Roundup, speak to Tamsin and ask for 'Timothy'.

SHOCK DISCOVERY CHANGES PICTURE OF KING ARTHUR FOR EVER!

Professor Wendy Lack-Bollock (56) is the former Nancledra singing nun and now highly acclaimed Relubbus International University Professor of Cornish History.

Professsor Lack-Bollock has sent tidal waves of controversy and excitement through the ranks of the academic world by lending her undoubtedly overwhelming personal prestige to the authenticity of a claim made by one Billy Pender (42) to have found the true and ancient sword of King Arthur in Dozmary Pool.

Pender is a man who has made a nearly steady living by rowing around, on Dozmary Pool, people who wish to catch a  glimpse of the hideous monster 'Dozey', which Pender himself first caught sight of some 25 years ago and which has never been seen again.

Pender, who fortunately had a camera on him at the time, was able to take a quick snap of the monster before it disappeared again into the shallow depths.

From the picture, it has been identified by some (Pender and his sister, Agnes) as being of the Cornish Morgawr variety.

However, the Cornish marine monster expert, Jack Coastow (97), has dismissed this as "utter bleddy codswallop".  He states that Dozmary is at no point deeper than 9 feet and that anyone would be hard put to hide any kind of monster in it, unless it were a monster tadpole.

Labouring against the relentless weight of rash and (according to Pender) ill-founded, but nonetheless damaging dismissals such as this for the past 25 years has restricted the appetite of emmets and other punters to stump up the necessary £45 per head for the 35 minute slow row around Dozmary Pool.

This has naturally put a severe strain on the earning capacity of Mr Pender who, together with his sister and a family goat, lives in an old and lovingly repaired two-man scout tent some half a mile from Dozmary Pool.

However, no one could contradict the claim of Dozmary Pool to have been the place where the legendary Arthur (shown here in typically camp pose) both received and returned his famed sword Excalibur (according to the post-Vulgate Merlin).

Accordingly, Mr Pender has now adjusted his roadside sign to appeal to lovers of Arthurian romance, advertising his boat tours to attract those who wish to experience the magic of the place where the mysterious lady of the lake took back the wondrous sword Excalibur.  This did dramatically increase Pender's weekly income by £90.

However, no one could have been more shocked than Pender himself, when he first caught a glimpse of the famed sword himself.

Says Mr Pender, "I wazouthere wun mornin' early like, avinabit geek fer Dozey, when I saw thisere glinta grey!"

He rowed out to the mysterious object, which seemed to float upon the water, willing him to approach and behold it.

He picked it up and was astounded at how small and light it was.  He was even more astounded to see that scratched on the hilt was the immortal claim, "Thissere duh blong tuh Boy Arthur - 'Ands off!"

He took his find to Professor Lack-Bollock, who, after careful study, made the following statement:

"This find transforms for ever our picture of the true Arthur and it also brings dramatic revelations about so-called Dark Age Britain.

"The sword is a little over 1 foot long.  It is a short sword and is made for a short person and we must now believe that Arthur himself was a little over 3 foot tall.  However, we should not be surprised that so much was achieved by a dwarf.  Shortarses have achieved much throughout history - remember that Napoleon was only 2 foot 11 inches tall.

"However, what many will find almost unbelievable is that the sword is made of lightweight grey plastic, which means that we must completely revise our understanding of Dark Age materials development and use. 

"Plastic is held to be an invention of modern times, but here is clear proof that plastic had been invented and used centuries before in Cornwall.

"There is a further surprising linguistic conundrum.  The inscription on the sword is in a seemingly bastardised form of modern English.  Yet Arthur himself clearly used this language.  The linguistic world has now been thrown into upheaval, as linguists struggle to work out what this could mean for our understanding of the development of European languages."

There is a further very faint inscription on the sword, which can barely be made out with the aid of a magnifying glass.  It reads "Knees, Penzance, Market Jew Street".  Experts are still trying desperately to decode this mysterious message.

The Roundup will report further.

POLITICAL COMPLICATIONS IN CORNWALL

On the borders of Relubbus all is not not well..  A dispute has broken out between the People's Repubic of Hayle and its breakaway religious  state, the Extreme Methodist (including Wesleyan, United, Primitive and Bible Christian) Fundamentalist State of Angarrack.

Hayle (Republyk Gwerynek Heyl) is, of course, a somewhat bleak Communist state ruled firmly, and indeed harshly, by Stalinist dictator Tregavarah Ventongimps. 

However, Ventongimps' mother, 102 year old Agnes (pictured here), is a devout Catholic and, for this reason, Hayle is tolerant of religion and has a thriving Church.

Thanks to her support, the Church often acts as a brave, but largely ignored, voice for broader freedom in the depressingly sombre and suffocating gloom of this Communist paragon.

Angarrack ("The rock" in Kernowek) is a Methodist Fundamentalist police state rigidly controlled by His Extreme Holiness Ayatollah 'Arry ben Jago, who is never without a microphone.  'Arry prides himself on having no more flexibility than a rock.

'Arry is much given to public executions and firmly believes that they serve the purpose of renewing public commitment to the state. In the quest to find victims for the monthly executions, offences as light as parking on a double yellow line can suffice to bring you to an early meeting with your Maker.

If your face doesn't fit, then that too will suffice.  It is a case of this sort that has captured the attention of Angarrack-watchers, who are scandalised by the routine barbarity meted out to the long-suffering inhabitants of this rogue state.

Lowda Gof is a 23-year-old mobile nail technician who was caught parking on a double yellow line.  On top of that she was pronounced a vampire and condemned to death next month.

Unfortunate-looking Lowda has, however, captured the hearts of many Angarrack-watchers.  In her own tearful words, she says, "I aren't no bleddy vampire. I ebbent drunk no blood nur nuthin ligat.  I jes got funny teeth.  I put my 'ands up - I done the double yellow, but I was bustin' to go toylit.  You duh knaw - one o they 'mergencies after a dicky curry las' night."

Her plight has attracted the sympathy and active support of the Bishop of Hayle Towans, the charismatic, but unconventional man who has won the powerful patronage  of Agnes Ventongimps.

The Bishop, Ludwig Katzenfurz (49) from Liechtenstein, believes that a camel is the appropriate form of transport in such a sandy place as Hayle Towans. 

Having acquired one at great expense from Morocco, he has now grown curiously - and some say romantically - attached to the beast, which he calls "Schatzi", which means 'darling' in German.

Bishop Katzenfurz, who speaks only German, said through his interpreter, "Zis girl has got a small problem viz her teece, vich only ze good attentions of a skilled dentist can help." 

He went on to say that the death penalty was an excessive punishment for parking on double yellow lines, when a simple public branding and whipping would have quite sufficed.

The support of Agnes Ventongimps for the Bishop has also brought the support of her son, Tregavarah, and thus the support also of the substantial, though antiquated, military apparatus of his Communist state.

Tregavarah has ordered up 10 divisions to the Hayle/Angarrack border in a threatening move calculated to force the leader of the much smaller Angarrack state to reconsider its execution policies.

Included in the military force is a camelcade of 120 clerics led by Biship Katzenfurz, who now views himself as some sort of romantic Lawrence of Arabia character.

The atmosphere is now one of extreme tension.  However, there is no danger that Relubbus itself will get drawn into any resulting conflict.

Speaking from the plush and spacious surroundings of his opulent caravan (with on-board flush toilet) parked at a secret location in Marazion for the summer break, Greater Relubbus Urban Council (GRUC) leader, Councillor Billy Spargo (116), said, "If they two wunna play silly buggers, tha's up to they.  I aren't gettin' involved!"

We will report further as the situation develops.

CHARACTERS AROUND RELUBBUS

JJ Jago

Tremethick Cross is the sort of place you could coast through quickly almost without noticing as you speed from the metropolitan grandeur of Penzance on the way to the infamous fleshpots of St Just, to the fine dining and quaffing offered by the landlady at Newbridge, or simply to the tense gambling haunts of Pendeen.

Yet to do so would be to miss one of the hidden jewels, one of the best-kept secrets of West Penwith.  For amongst the small cluster of habitations that make up this cosy hamlet is one lodged in by none other than the legendary Jimmy Jago.  

The colourful 'JJ', shown here on the right of the photo with three of his devoted acolytes, is a man of many parts, many of which almost fit.

 Many know "JJ" as the former St Erth Creamery worker, as the bar-room raconteur, as the purest lady-bait, as the Kernow-wide famous petard extraordinaire, as the passionate advocate of the rights of nude chess players, as the champion of the freedoms of those exploring inter-species relations between humankind and hedgehogs, but just how many also knew that JJ started out life as a woman?!

The Roundup can reveal, with JJ's permission, that for the first 28 years of his life JJ was, in fact, Jennifer Angwin (pictured).

The Three Plumbers

Opera has (or had) 'The Three Tenors' and Marazion has 'The Three Plumbers', who are, in fact, also three brothers.  They are Sidney (79), Clarence (81), and Hedley (83) Clemo.  The boys, who still live with their long-widowed mother, Temperance (109), in Goldsithney, all still work.

As Hedley says, "Maither tole we that we gotta work slongas she duh work.  She's still cookin' fer we an' she duh do eour washin' anall, so we boys gotta wait bit till we duh retire!"

The boys still attend the Sunday School at Marazion Methodist Chapel and the highlight of their year still remains the annual charabanc ride to Praa Sands for the Annual Sunday School Tea Treat.  Says Sidney, "Sum ansum ee is too, you duh git bottla pop and git saffern bun!  We duh forward to un, I kintellee."

Despite their professional pre-occupation with water systems, the trio are, when it comes to personal ablutions, ardent practitioners of water conservation.  All three roundly abjure the wastefulness of bathing and showering and instead prefer to 'freshen up' with just a light sprinkle of water on the face each week.  Clarence, enveloped in a carefully cultivated protective mist of miasmic whiff, proclaimed, "Jugga water duh last we a month, boy!"

ADVERTISEMENT FEATURE

The runaway comedy hit "I beg your pardon!" now showing at the Relubbus Panopticon at the end of fashionable Boswedden Lane has just entered its amazing 14th week.

However, the show has proved such a knockout success with the Cornish public of all ages that its run at the 10,000 seat theatre has been extended for a further two weeks.

People have been coming from as far as Helston, Falmouth and even Truro to view Pendeen-born Wesley B. Behenna's comedic masterpiece about the Nance family, whose life is set in Colinsey Road, Penzance.

The cast are, from the left, Mr Spinks, played by Horton Treloar (25), Mr Wakfer, played by Madron Tregenza (31), cheeky Mrs Spinks, played by Phoebe Polkinghorne (24) and Mrs Wakfer, played by Lamorna Trevorrow (19).

Mr Spinks is seen holding Brathky, the farting dog, who is central to much of the humour in this 5 hour play.

If you haven't seen it - or if you are one of those who wish to see it again and again, hurry to get your ticket now!  Single ticket £112.  Two person ticket £250.  Family ticket (admitting one person only) just £500.

TOUGH SOLUTIONS FOR TOUGH TIMES

Relubbus is famed for its buoyant economy, which is commonly know to be "as safe as Mouzel 'Arber".  However, the UK and much of the rest of the world are gripped by choking deficits, which are driving governments to take hitherto unthinkable actions to balance the books.

Our Economics Correspondent, Bramwell Brasso Busso Bolitho, reports on some of the more controversial actions of our neighbour, the UK:

Georgie Porgie Osborne (pictured second from the right) is the UK's Chancellor of the Exchequer, an all-round good egg and, just 25 years ago, elected runner-up in the Eton School 'Fag of the Year' competition.  The certificate "for extwordinawee services for the chaps" is still proudly kept by Mum at home.

As Georgie has put it, "It's a devilish job making all these damned cuts without hurting the most vulnerable - who are clearly those who have the most to lose!  Obviously, it is those in the Tory Party who have the most to lose and I am here to make sure that we keep it all - or Ashers (Lord Arsecreep) has said to me that he will ensure that I am given the most beastly roasting suffered by any fag!"

Georgie has said that everything is up for review and he and his pals - including token poor boy and new carrot-topped pal "Wee Danny Alexander" from off the Glengarry Estate - have come up with some ideas that would have hitherto been thought "unthinkable".

Old age pension - indeed "old age" itself - is to be scrapped.  As 'two brains' Hector Weeble-Splunk, Georgie's policy adviser and fag maintains, "They used to say that 60 is the new 40", but now we say that "100 is the new 45"!!

Old age pension will only be paid to those who reach the age of 100.  Up to that age, everyone will have to work under the new "Thrive or Die" scheme.

Pictured are Edward and Ethel Batt, both 92 and, until George and his pals came to power, residents of the Eastbourne Quiet Home for Retired Gentlefolk.  Since the home could no longer function without considerable state aid, it has been closed down and the inmates have been turfed out on to the street.

(For those who are interested, the home has now been turned into a free enterprise brothel employing single mothers, who have been similarly turfed out of their council homes and deprived of their former benefits so that they must now earn their keep.)

Edward and Ethel have been given a half hour's intensive training to equip them for earning their living in the real world.  However, Edward is still struggling to produce entertaining noises from his plastic flute, as he is completely deaf, whilst Ethel's numerous infirmities prevent her from singing and dancing, as she was instructed to do with the aid of various drawings.  The couple have been give their own 'pitch' outside the Arbitrager pub in Throgmorton Street in the City of London.

Thanks to the open-handed generosity  of the hugely wealthy traders who frequent the pub, the couple have been able to earn £17 over the past month and, thanks to the thoroughly good kicking they got, which resulted in hospitalisation and some free food, they have managed to stay alive.

Tufty Wakfer, a 98-year-old ex-tightrope walker from Greenwich, has been expelled from his Old Folks home and told that he now has to earn his daily crust; but that this will only be for two more years before he receives the generous new state pension of £5.75 per week with no strings attached.

He has been allotted his own nearly-new cardboard box under a railway arch and has been presented with a 'start up' tray of used razor blades to sell to the the public to  try to make a living. Tufty has not been doing well and hasn't sold anything so far.

Some people have been questioning the fairness and even challenging the human rights aspects of these seemingly savage Tory cuts. Georgie has been most defensive and has insisted that they consulted most widely before introducing them.

In particular, he points out that he spent one whole afternoon chatting to his uncle, Mr Henley Regatta, who has assured him that he was doing "just the right thing", saving so much money.  Typical of many hard-working Tories, Mr Regatta had simply not been grafting away as a stockbroker for the past forty years working every hour God gives between 10.00 am and 11.45 am each day to earn his millions so that it can all be taxed and handed over to benefits proles.

State expenditure has been reduced to just £1.5 million annually with money only going on essentials, such as champers for the pals at cabinet meetings (though Wee Danny has to drink Irn Bru) and an annual subscription to the Eton Needy Old Boys' Fund, for chaps down on their luck.

The Communist Leaders of the People's Republic of Hayle (chief among them trichologically-challenged Tregavarah "Combover" Ventongimps) are eyeing up the UK with renewed interest, sensing that the revolution there might just be around the corner.