Thursday, 30 November 2017


"Tancredi Bollocks Face strode into the Laboratory. It had originally been called the Conservatory. but he had recently changed his politics.
Suddenly he realised that…"

"Excuse me! Hello? Yes, you, My Writer's Instinct! Sorry to stop you in mid-inspiration, but what the hell are you doing? 'Tancredi Bollocks Face' is totally the wrong name to give a hero. (Or "taytally" as the British Upper Class insist on saying, to the detriment of an entire section of society.) ''Tancredi Bollocks Face', is terrible, it doesn't have anything to recommend it at all."
"And yet Julian, I insist that you seriously consider giving your approval to this appellation, nomenclature or name."  retorts My Writer's Instinct obstinately.

"Listen here, My Writer's Instinct, I have to put my writer's foot down, 'Tancredi Bollocks Face' is a really and I'm talking really really here, crap name.
For a start It's going to put all the Lady Readers off and probably only the coarser element of the male population will find it acceptable and anyway they won't read it as they'll be too busy drinking beer and being coarse.  What's the problem with calling him something like, for instance, Bertram Rotherhithe? Or James Stanley Cotswold? Or Gladstone Smith? Why this appalling, stupid, idiotic, just-awful, name?"
"Look Julian, first of all please calm down. Listen to me carefully, Tancredi Bollocks Face wasn't the first one that sprang to mind.
I had previously considered D'Arcy Quill-Trembling, Patchwork Prindy-Naff, Fandango Dogtooth-Naughty and even Horse Radish Cuddles-Beauchamp, pronounced 'Halibut', but they were all found wanting,"
Said My Writer's Instinct, shaking its head emphatically. 
"Just wait and see, you'll be amazed at what we are going to write. Stick with 'Tancredi Bollocks Face' you can't go wrong, trust me!"
"Trust you? TRUST YOU?" I shout, changing the font to Calibri Bold for added emphasis.
"Trust you? After our …your, last appalling foray into literature? You are totally obsessed with stupid names. That's all you…we…write."
My Writer's Instinct hangs its head in contrition.
"I wasn't feeling well, I had indigestion from your Writer's Block."
"Well," I say, ramming home my point, "let me just remind you."
"No, please don't, it was a momentary aberration, it could happen to any Writer's Instinct."
"Sorry," I say "but here it is, your last incredible masterpiece!"

“Fuck!” is a word with which one should never begin a sentence, let alone a short story, novel, reference book, pamphlet or, God forbid, a religious tract. How can you follow it?
But still “Fuck!” is how I am intent on beginning this sentence, story, novel, reference book, pamphlet or religious tract, because, as you will see in a few seconds, it is the only possible word to use in the context.

But first the names. At all costs we must protect their real names otherwise there could well be incriminations of a serious nature and the someone who could be seriously incriminated would doubtless be me. So, let’s find some really good believable pseudonyms. I’m normally not too good at this but here goes.
Plungeface Twatweed? Gorgonzola Petulant? Grobmaster Nippers Jnr? No, that there was a Grobmaster Nippers Senior might be asking too much of the reader’s goodwill.  Snortletwerp Feeelingz? Who says you can’t have three e’s?
Rottweiler Tneap?  Something double barreled always adds a touch of class. Creosote Plough-Hinge? Gorgeous Neat-Rembler (hidden pun, that’s quite subtle) Tancredi Blodge-Chirping? Am I looking for male or female names? That’ll help narrow it down a bit.
Well Henry and Charles were blokes and Ethel was a female.
So, two guys and a gal.
Norbert Masterspleen? Blister Jerbil the Third? Martita Titt-Titting. Overdose of tits. Martita Treadwell? Not bad, it’s the first one that’s anywhere near human. Let’s go with it for starters. So, Martita Treadwell.
Now the chaps – Sordid Bottletop? Ablution Dayweary? Argathon Pendips? Good if Charlie had Greek ancestry maybe, but as he didn’t we’ll move on with alacrity. Alacrity Speedfury? Tnid Gluppy?
 I need a glass of water, best food for the brain they say. Walter Freakworthy? Blad Twig-Fumbler?
Hang on, Blad’s quite an original first name - it’s got ‘bad’ in it and ‘lad’ and in fact ‘bad lad’ And with that hint of ‘bladder’ it also smacks of mortality.… Blad. Blad Trousers? Blad Pinkperson? Blad Corsico? Yes! I’ll go with that. So Martita Treadwell and Blad Corsico. Now the last one, something slightly more sensitive sounding as for instance: Apparition Shymaster? Ephemeris Shadow? Frailty Possums? Quiver Wobble-Quake? You’re losing it, get a grip on yourself …. Agrippon Yossef?  Joseph’s a good name, a bit too Jewish though? Well Henry was Jewish and anyway some of my best relations are. And Joseph Goebbels wasn’t Jewish to my almost certain knowledge. Does that un-Jewish it though? Why do I always get paranoid about mentioning Jews? As soon as the word crops up I instantly start censoring everything around it. My wife thinks that after all the millennia of fleeing and persecution, Jews’ DNA has evolved and now they are habituated to attract adrenalinisation or maybe attention, and that’s why they’re always getting into trouble, like pogroms, holocausts and Hezbollocks.
Make a note: find bucket of icy water and dunk brain.
Joseph or how about Joe? That’s a manly name. Joe Crimea? Joe Gallipoli? Joe Russian Front ? Why wars all of a sudden? Come on you’ve nearly got it… Joe Juggins, Joe Juxta, Joe Kersall? Yes, that’s good, another pun and it fits! Joe Kersall. So Martita Treadwell, Blad Corsico and Joe Kersall.    

Now we can begin:

Chapter 1

Fuck!” Shouted Martita Treadwell, Joe Kersall and Blad Corsico, as they fell off the cliff!


(See what I mean? It’s the only word.)


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