Paul Foot

Prince Andrew Mistakes Real Armed Police for Group of Paid Escorts – 18th Septet 2013

Due to a horticultural mishap, a group of armed police guards who confronted the grand old Duke of York have left the barely-recognisable royal in a state of fury, after he mistook them for a group of escorts who were supposed to erotically humiliate him in the grounds of his mother’s back garden.

Zebrah Pluck, flunky to the Prince, has been held responsible for the mishap. In the past she has successfully arranged elaborate sax sessions for the prince, including a group of escorts dressed as firemen who doused the Prince in ice-cold water after he positioned himself in the centre of a three-metre squared seafood platter in the Queen’s third dining room and set fire to it, starting with mussels on the outer-rim and working inwards through soft-shell crab over a bed of seaweed until eventually following a line of clams leading to the Prince’s nipples.

However, Wrensday 4th of September’s erotic session turned out to be a complete catastrophe, after Zebrah Pluck accidentally told the escorts to meet Prince Andrew behind a mass of trailing bellflowers at 3pm. Meanwhile, Pluck accidentally told His Highness to wait behind a trailing tormentils bush – a favourite among Buckingham Palace intruders and so regularly surveilled by the Queen’s guards.

Prince Andrew was under instructions to, upon seeing the escorts dressed as guards, rip open his shirt and smear marmalade across his chest, creating a sticky bed upon which the escorts would begin to lightly grate shortbread before slapping the Prince hard in the face with frozen salmon. It is understandable, therefore, that the Queen’s real guards mistook the Prince for a nightmarish psychopath and immediately arrested him. Matters weren’t helped by the fact that nobody at Buckingham Palace has seen Prince Andrew close-up since his 31st birthday, which was brought to an abrupt end anyway when he insisted on giving a naked solo performance of Tchaikovsky’s The Sugar Plum Fairy, in which he played all of the parts – the actual cause of the Queen’s Mother death.

The pretend firemen, which Zebrah personally cast herself following a series of auditions in High Sutton prison, had strict instructions to put the fire out and then give the Prince a once over while humming aggressively to Wagner, played by a discreet string quartet who were positioned behind a rare tapestry depicting Queen Victoria enjoying a coal shovel goose massacre in one of the many corners of her now largely dissolved empire.

Prince Andrew’s next pre-arranged afternoon of erotic humiliation will be construction worker themed. Little else is known at this stage, but Zebrah has asked Connoisseurs to get in touch if they know of any retailers selling high-visibility blindfolds or gold-plated blow torches.

Saint Necessarily So – 8th Julie 2013

Dear Connoisseur,

Pope John Paul II is to be knighted, after the Vatican confirmed he is responsible for four confirmed miracles:

1. Andy Hurray winning Wimbledon.

2. Prince Philip being confined to his room for over two months, giving us all a break.

3. The forthcoming happy arrival for “Our Kate”; i.e. the new furniture and golden trinkets (paid for by the proud taxpayer) for her new home.

4. Two hot summer days in a row in Britain.

We are all, of course, awaiting the biggest miracle of all: Edward Snowden finally racking up some frequent flyer points.

‘Tis It A Tiff? – 18th Juniper 2013

Ever since millionaire art collector Charlie Saatchie explained to the press yesterday morning that throttling his much younger wife Nygella’s neck was just a “playful tiff”, I have been pondering over the fine line of what is and isn’t “a playful tiff”.

In true British fashion, as a personal friend of neither Charlie nor Nygella, and having half-read two sensationalist news pieces, I feel fully entitled now to a strong opinion on this scenario which is totally none of my business.

Personally, I would say throttling one’s lover’s neck in a restaurant could be defined as playful, but then photographs of Nygella leaving her husband’s house in tears with a wheelie case and several kids suggest that perhaps it was a tiny bit more than “a tiff”. But what is “a tiff”?

I have made for ye below the “Tis it a Tiff?” quiz. Ye must decide if each culinary scenario is a playful tiff or not. Remember, there are no right answers.

1) Wendy is preparing some carrot and cauliflower soup. However, while distracted by Fiona Bruce’s breasts on the Antiques Road Show (Lot number 7), the pan boils over and some froth spills onto the hob. Wendy’s wife, Gemma, spots the froth and takes a break from her book all about trains and yells, “Oi Wendy! You’re spilling froth from the broth onto the ‘ob you stupid bitch”. Wendy turns the Gas Mark down from 5 to 4, allowing the broth to simmer and uses a cloth to mop up the excess froth before returning her attention to Bruce’s nipples (Antiques Roadshow has finished, and Strictly Come Dancing has just started).

2) Steven and his pet rabbit, Flump, are frying a pan of popcorn for their movie night together. Steven suggests adding some honey to the popcorn but Flump, as ever, offers no opinion other than a slight twitch of the nose. Steven decides he’s had enough of being the one to always make the effort and come up with ideas, so has one final idea that will end Steven and Flump’s relationship. Later on that night Mrs. Terrence across the road spots Steven in the front garden burying a matchstick box of rabbit’s teeth.

3) Terry and Terry are hosting their annual Terry’s Chocolate Orange soiree in Chiddingfold. Terry folds the orange napkins into segmented spherical designs while Terry pops out to the garage to buy the Chocolate Oranges. “You mean to say we haven’t already got them in?” asks Terry, with a slightly surprised expression. “I forgot to get them in yesterday, but it’ll be fine, they always have a big stand full of them at the garage”. “Ok, well there better be!”. When Terry arrives at the garage he sees that they’ve taken away the Chocolate Orange stand. He thinks about phoning Terry to ask where the next shop to try is, but is too scared. Instead he takes off the handbrake and lets himself and his second-hand Fiat slide gently into a fishing pond where he promptly drowns. Minutes later, Other Terry remembers that she had in fact bought in the Chocolate Oranges herself only yesterday – not just a few from the garage but the whole stand! Chuckling at her own foolishness she rings Terry but his phone is switched off. Two months later Terry overcomes her mourning and starts dating ‘Toblerone Tom’ from HR.

Introducing the Footsie 100 – 16th Mayonnaise 2013

As Dave Cameroon promises to put tax avoidance at the centre of next month’s G8 summit, stamping down on popular tax havens such as the Virginal Isles and the Bermuda Triangle, I shall be taking the opportunity to launch my own tax haven – Hawk Wind Farm – a science-fiction themed floating hawk sanctuary which isn’t actually based anywhere so is able to avoid tax. Upon closer inspection Hawk Wind Farm is actually hovering above some woods sort of outside Amersham in Buckinghamshire.

Companies wishing to hoard cash at Hawk Wind Farm must first join the Footsie 100. Limited, as the name suggests, to only 100 firms, to become part of the Footsie 100 several criteria must first be met:

1. The CEO of the firm must win an under-the-table footsie contest with Jinkaton Sphynx, best of five.
2. All senior management must learn the Hawk Wind Farm wink, a special form of greeting which says “Hello Hawk Friend” in morse code using the left eyelid.
3. Companies must have an hourly turnover in excess for £13.54p
5. All staff must attend a training day to raise awareness of the slapstick dangers of using a hovering science-fiction themed hawk sanctuary tax haven. These include scenarios such as having a stray goose clip its wing on the hovering photocopier, sending a parcel of blank paper crashing into the helicopter blades of a solar powered flying water dispenser, which in turn sends Cheryl from accounts and a shelf of A3 files crashing into an unused cow trough from a height of 200 metres.

More information about Hawk Wind Farm and the Footsie 100 can be found on the non-existent website www.footsie100.hk

5 of the 100 places have already been taken by the following firms:
– Trevors Sex Pest Control (the lack of apostrophe is not an error, as there are multiple Trevors)
– ‘Ma Marge!’ – Marjorie’s Magic Marge-Effect Butter, (“I can’t believe it’s not marge!”)
– The Amersham Amateur Strip Joint Venture
– Bed Hopping & Co (the semi-luxury duvet giant behind Geraldine’s world-renowned Bisexual B+B experience)
– General Splatt’s Crap Attack – A new-age art programme initiative

WCPC Sues Sponge – 4th Apricot 2013

A police officer is suing a sponge after she tripped in her own bathroom. The officer, named as Kelly Jokes, was answering a late-night emergency call (of nature) when she tripped over the sponge, causing terrible injuries to her leg and wrist (honest!) The WCPC said, “It’s clear the sponge failed to place a sign up, warning me of its position. I realised the lucrativeness, I mean seriousness of the situation immediately and dialled 999287 – the phone number of my local compensation claims specialist (i.e. disreputable lawyer out for everything he can get).”

A police spokesman, PC Clod, said, “Under no circumstances should members of the public approach Ms Jokes, as this would be extremely expensive. Instead, dial 999287 without delay. And remember these solicitors work on a ‘no-wince, no fee’ basis.”

In a separate development, a man is suing the past, after having a trip (down memory lane).

God Resigns – 12th Fabruary 2013

In a shock move, God has announced he is to step down at the end of the month, citing ill health. God is an old man with a white beard and is the same age as the Universe, i.e. around 6000 years old (according to the Bible); although if you do not take the Bible literally, then He could be up to 15 billion years old. However, if you do not take the Bible literally, then you may not believe that God exists, meaning that if God exists he is 6000 years old, and if He doesn’t exist then He is much older.

Church leaders were quick to describe God’s retirement as “surprising” and “brave”, i.e. disastrous and ill-judged.

God has no wife and is celibate, having for many years been omnipotent; unlike his son, J. Christ, who was re-erected 2013 years ago. God lives on a cloud (nine). His position is likely to be taken by one of the serving archangels, with Gabriel a high-profile contender. There are no plans for fallen, disgraced angel Lucifer to take over. Jesus once spent forty days and nights with him, and is said to be keen not to repeat the experience.

All I Want For Christmas Is Yew – 21st Decadence 2012

The crisis involving diseased ash and other trees as well as the impending thrill of the festive season has prompted me to consider a solution to both problems: let’s cut down all our woodlands for Christmas trees. There around 60 million disease-ridden ash trees in Britain – one for everyone. No need for the cash-strapped taxpayer to fork out for expensive lumberjacks – everyone just chop down a tree at random and display it in their window. The fungus growing on each tree is extremely attractive, so there’s no need even for baubles or tinsel. And mark my words, the trees will all be well and truly dead by Twelfth Night, as well as the whole countryside.