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Mrs Chucklebutty, where are you?

In an excerpt from The Secret Diaries of Professor Y Chucklebutty, trouble is afoot....

Published on September 10th 2008.

Mrs Chucklebutty, where are you?


WHEN doing the gardening at the weekend, Mrs C, my dear wife, dug up a World War II shell. It turned out to be quite a large one, as it happened.

She spent about an hour belting it with a shovel to check if it was still live.

Now I know what you are thinking, but she was wearing earplugs as a safety precaution. She is not stupid.

Anyway, she gave it one last almighty clout and guess what? It was live.

Now half the garden is gone, and so is she. I have no idea where she is. She left her wellies in the hole and I found her earplugs in the pebble-dashing. The neighbours are furious.

I have had to fork out two grand for windows alone. Fortunately my ears are still ringing so I probably missed a lot of the unpleasant comments. Well you could tell by their faces...

I suspect that when she saw the damage, after it went off, she did a

runner. But thinking back to how she was straddling it at the time, I am starting to fear the worst.

It's been at least a couple of days now and no sign of her.

I suppose it really hit me tonight when I went to the fridge and saw some chops we were supposed to be having for a special tea, just the two of us. Well now I just don't know what to do next.

Is it best to grill them or fry them?

If you see her get her to ring me, please! The sell-by date is tomorrow.

She may be at her sister's, but her sister won't speak to me, not since I offered to mend the toilet flush for her and got the connection mixed up with the power shower.

Just come home or ring me. Actually ring would be better. Or a fax.



DigSeptember 10th 2008.

Last place I saw Mrs. C was clinging to one of the legs of La Princesse as she made her way into the tunnel. Prof I fear the lady straddling that shell was not your wife but an elaborate dummy designed to throw you off the scent. Has Mrs.C faked her own death to go and live on The Dark Side with a robotic arachnid? Mrs.C and La Princesse? Not as weird as it sounds considering some of the relationships my friends are in.

Private DickSeptember 10th 2008.

She's meeting Dig at Otterspool car park tonight. She thought his name was Dog, or Wag, or something.

TonySeptember 10th 2008.

I am getting worried about the Prof and how he is going to survive if er indoors has vanished. (she's probably come up on the bingo).anyway, why can't livconf take him on as a local restaurant reviewer. then at least he would be sure of getting a decent meal once in a while...?on second thoughts, maybe not....

Charlotte la RueSeptember 10th 2008.

Mais non ! Sûrement il ne peut pas être au CERN d'endroit? Son volume étant bouclier utilisé est-il le LHC des rayons cosmiques?

Liverpool ConfidentialSeptember 10th 2008.

It's funny you should say that, Charlotte la Rue....

Otto SpoolSeptember 10th 2008.

Ah! The Tale that Wags the Dig!

Charlotte la RueSeptember 10th 2008.

Je me demande ce qui est advenu de Fat Git? S'est-il effondré comme étoile de mort sous son propre volume, ou va-t-il toujours sur le bimble ? Il était si d'une manière amusante !

DigSeptember 10th 2008.

Nadia, I will be at Otterspool prom at 9. I will be the man in the straightjacket and yellow van, gibbering and slobbering awaiting your skills 'for professional man who needs loving touch of woman'.

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