I suspect that JB has had his hands all over this dirty plot.
Monday 12 December 2005
Blown
Short Andy has reported on a tip-off he recieved from Mr. Charrington at the Village Shop. Charrington notes that Jonny B visited him on the day of the Buncefield explosion, and he suspects that this was merely aimed at establishing an alibi. When Charrington subtely dropped in a reference to the attack, story goes that JB looked awkward for a second, before quickly changing the subject.
Tuesday 6 December 2005
A surprising visitor
I spot ex-village resident Jonny B entering the Village Pub. I creep in behind him, closing the door quietly. The bar is busier than usual. Jonny and the LTLP slide into a booth.
I attract the Chipper Barman's attention with a conspirital wink.
"Busy today," I enquire.
"Oh yes", says the Chipper Barman, "we have a VIP visiting. Anne Widdicombe. You know, from Celebrity Fit Club."
This news shocks me to the very core. I glance at Jonny and see him fidgeting nervously in his seat. On the seat beside him, sits a snooker-cue case, latches already open.
I bolt for the door, dart round the back, crash through the kitchen and fling myself into the Private Lounge. Widders is there, apparently not yet dead, tucking heartily into a rack of ribs. I consider telling her that the Ceasar Salad is a better option for those looking to lose a few pounds, but think better of it. I throw my arm around her and we dash from the Lounge. Outside her limo driver sees my signal, I throw her into the back of the car, and they scream away.
I hurry back into the pub.
Jonny and the LTLP have vanished.
I attract the Chipper Barman's attention with a conspirital wink.
"Busy today," I enquire.
"Oh yes", says the Chipper Barman, "we have a VIP visiting. Anne Widdicombe. You know, from Celebrity Fit Club."
This news shocks me to the very core. I glance at Jonny and see him fidgeting nervously in his seat. On the seat beside him, sits a snooker-cue case, latches already open.
I bolt for the door, dart round the back, crash through the kitchen and fling myself into the Private Lounge. Widders is there, apparently not yet dead, tucking heartily into a rack of ribs. I consider telling her that the Ceasar Salad is a better option for those looking to lose a few pounds, but think better of it. I throw my arm around her and we dash from the Lounge. Outside her limo driver sees my signal, I throw her into the back of the car, and they scream away.
I hurry back into the pub.
Jonny and the LTLP have vanished.
Friday 2 December 2005
Gone
We only had a couple of hours notice.
One day he was busy catching and dismembering rodents, the next he decides that his house is not up to scratch, and he must move out whilst repairs are made. He crashes around the house like a hurricane, throwing possessions into boxes with a gay abandon. He says that he will come back for the grand piano...I tell him I will look after it whilst he is gone.
"When will you be back?" I ask.
"Next year," he mutters. "Some time next year."
Thankfully my quick-wittedness has saved the day. I am able to pass surveillance onto another agent, codename "Short Andy". He will file regular reports whilst the subject is out-of-village.
One day he was busy catching and dismembering rodents, the next he decides that his house is not up to scratch, and he must move out whilst repairs are made. He crashes around the house like a hurricane, throwing possessions into boxes with a gay abandon. He says that he will come back for the grand piano...I tell him I will look after it whilst he is gone.
"When will you be back?" I ask.
"Next year," he mutters. "Some time next year."
Thankfully my quick-wittedness has saved the day. I am able to pass surveillance onto another agent, codename "Short Andy". He will file regular reports whilst the subject is out-of-village.
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