I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.
THE TOP END OF CALVERTON is really the bottom end of Calverton due to a map mix up, it has been confirmed.
Because of an Ordnance Survey printing error, it seems that residents have been reading the map of Calverton upside down since as far back as the 1790s.
‘This won’t be a major issue for most of us,’ said Collyer Road resident Norris Thetford, a Daily Mail subscriber so therefore habitual believer of lies.
‘Obviously there are people who’ll get mardy because they base their self-worth on the location and value of their house and have a misplaced sense of superiority. But for the rest of us it will just be business as usual.’
‘Superior? That’s how we feel about the whole of Calverton,’ said Woodborough.
To celebrate the new village order, there’ll be a party next week at the Bottom Club.
I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.
CALVERTON’S GHOSTS are going on strike, confirm mediums.
With news that the TV show Help! My House Is Haunted may be filming in the village again, local spirits have decided they’re no longer prepared to haunt for free.
‘We want an appearance fee,’ said the notorious White Lady at Saturday’s meeting of the Apparitions, Ghosts and Ghouls Hub (AGGH!) at the function room of The Admiral Wendy.
‘People have been taking advantage so we’ve had to unionise. Being a ghost costs. Austerity’s put at least a quid on the cost of a litre of ectoplasm and there’s been a huge rise in the cost of unliving. So Help! My House Is Haunted can jog on unless there’s a guarantee of at least Equity minimum.
But not for White Sheet Gary, obviously, because we think he was made up by some local author.’
A motion to strike was tabled by a pair of disembodied legs wearing riding trousers and was seconded by Conservative MP Mark Spencer, who may have been at the wrong meeting. AGGH! will give formal notice of strike action next week.
The meeting broke up with a figure in a wide brimmed black hat jumping into a taxi at the bottom of George’s Lane.
I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.
POPULAR CALVERTON PUB GAME Sticky 13’s has been outlawed for health and safety reasons, it has been confirmed.
The game, which is basically bingo with playing cards, has been a regular feature at hostelries across the village for generations. But according to health inspectors those cards are ‘sticky’ for a rather unpleasant, and now potentially lethal, reason.
‘They’ve passed through thousands of pairs of hands,’ said Brian Gibbons from the Health and Safety Executive.
‘We’ve looked at cards from the Top Club, Geordie Club and The Admiral Wendy through a microscope. They’re minging. All manner of gunk on them. Bodily fluids, bits of chewing gum, fag ash and what looks to be a genuine hair sample from the rare Tianzhu white yak. How did that get there? It’s indigenous to Tibet.
‘It’s obvious. Playing stickies will expose you to deadly bacteria and may even kill you. Our research says you’re statistically more likely to die from playing stickies three times a week for twenty-one years then you are from necking a pint of Domestos. So stickies are banned, so there.’
The news has been met with utter indifference by pub landlords, most of whom have just bought new playing cards to replace the old ones.
Calverton looks forward to welcoming you soon for a pint, and a lovely game of Slidey 13’s.
I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.
A SHORT-SIGHTED worker at Calverton’s Hand Car Wash has accidentally given a valet to a horse, it has been claimed.
Stella Pipette, a stable owner from somewhere up the posh bit of the village, was trotting past the rundown building that used to be a pub before it became a restaurant which closed and then became another restaurant which also closed astride Merlin, her prize-winning Thoroughbred, when the incident occurred on Wednesday.
‘A man in overalls gave a shrill whistle and waved Merlin towards him,’ said a traumatised Stella.
‘Before I could stop the fellow, he’d set about Merlin with soapy water and soft wash mitts. Merlin looked like he was enjoying it to start with, but soon reared up at the first swipe of abrasive sponge on the equine tallywhacker.’
A spokesman for the Hand Car Wash said: ‘You can be sure your horse is being cleaned using only the best quality Autosmart products.
‘While it’s clear that chemicals have seriously affected the eyesight of one of our employees on this occasion, causing him to inappropriately valet a Thoroughbred, we didn’t think it was fair that the employee was trampled for his genuine mistake and we will be seeking legal advice.’
The horse was unable to provide comment, because it’s a horse.
‘Anyway, I moved on from that to a Batman costume, then a Mexican bandit, and then one of those 118-118 athletes with the tight shorts and curly hair.
‘But it was only when I was Dame Dumpsy-Dearie in the Burton Joyce village panto that I realised how comfy a frock was and decided to make the lifestyle change. Yes, my mates do have a dig at me. But you get used to the stick – particularly the one I’m sat on all week.’
Admiral Rodney will now be Admiral Rodney from Monday to Friday, and will identify as Admiral Wendy at weekends.
Everards Brewery owns the pub, and is yet to confirm if it will adjust signage.
I live in a village called Calverton in Nottinghamshire. Occasionally, I write completely made-up things about it.
THE CALVERTON VILLAGE BOBBY has been found safe and well and will return to duty next week.
The bobby, whose name ironically is Bobby, was discovered in the beer cellar at The Gleaners where he’d been tied up since August 1953 following a darts match.
It’s been a combination of beer from a leaky barrel, left-overs flung down from Sunday dinners and a proper old-fashioned Blighty spirit that’s kept him ticking over.
‘I look forward to serving the people of Calverton again,’ says Bobby.
Bobby’s former widow, Gladys, is not his widow anymore and is his wife. However, these days she is also the wife of someone called Derek, which is expected to cause some confusion at bedtimes.
Before my script came along, and I really had no idea about this when I wrote it, and I’m not sure my script even counts as ‘official,’ the last traceable Nottinghamshire Robin Hood mummers script appears to have been recorded by a chap called Dean S. Reynolds Hole in 1901. And Mr Hole’s just recording it, in a book called Then And Now, which suggests the script was probably written before 1901.
The script is here if you want to have a butcher’s. I must admit, my script includes a lot more winky jokes.
So have I really, and entirely inadvertently, written the first Nottinghamshire Robin Hood mummers script in at least 122 years? Surely I can’t claim this. Surely there must have been another one, maybe written in 1972, scribbled in a notebook by some fella called Brian or Big Ken, performed only once at Bobbers Mill, or Long Clawson, or on the bus, by the Papplewick Obby Orse Players (POOPS) to an audience of nine men and three ducks.
Surely someone remembers something Robin Hoody and mummery taking place between 1901 and 2023 in Nottinghamshire. Not just at Long Clawson. Is there a Short Clawson? Must remember to check. Surely this can’t be a massive piece of history we’re creating in Sherwood next week.
And … if I claim that my script is the first official Nottinghamshire mummers play about Robin Hood to be a) written and b) performed in this county in more than a century, will I be in trouble with the mummers mafia?
Is there a mummers mafia? Surely there can’t be a mummers mafia. Will they come out to arrest me for making lofty claims? Will I ever be seen again if they do?
Anyway. We’re on next week (Sunday 15 October) performing the Calverton Robin Hood Play. Free performances take place at 1.00 pm and 3.00 pm.
All of us here at CRAPPPS shall make no lofty claims about our script unless we are (far too easily) persuaded to drink too much and let such lofty claims blurt out, at which point the law enforcement wing of the mummers mafia will surely come out to decry us and demand we cease and desist. I imagine this law enforcement wing will be called The Cidermen.
Either way, it’s been really good knowing you, and you haven’t seen me. Right?
More utterly riveting dispatches from Shufflehampton Parish Council, England. ‘Good lord, these people are clearly morons.’ MADE UP QUOTE
MEETING DATE: FRIDAY 20 MARCH 2020
THE ACTING CHAIR convened the meeting at 7.30 pm.
Item 1
‘I’d leave it a few months if I were you’
Cyril Keenly, the Clerk of the Parish Council, dialled into the meeting because he was self-isolating. Councillor Watterson asked if anyone else was self-isolating because there was just him and the Acting Chair in the Council Room.
The Clerk confirmed everyone else was self-isolating though Councillor Pritchard didn’t really count because he was still in a coma after someone had attacked him with a pick-axe, Councillors Dean and Tomkins didn’t count because they were on trial for murder after the dismembered bodies of their ex-spouses were found at the Cow and Banjo and the Chairman didn’t count because he’d been photographed doing something ‘right dodgy’ and quite possibly illegal, forcing him to resign in disgrace.
The Clerk said Councillor Martin wasn’t able to attend the meeting because of a prior engagement with the Russian Mafia.
Item 2
Councillor Boothby, Acting Chair, asked Councillor Andrews if he could switch off his webcam. While Skype enabled Councillors to run meetings during the current pandemic with public gatherings restricted, this didn’t mean it was appropriate for Councillor Andrews to attend meetings sat on the porcelain. Councillor Andrews apologised and switched off his video feed. He also muted the audio, but not before everyone heard a tiny plop.
Councillor Boothby said the Parish Council needed to show real leadership during the public health crisis and should encourage social distancing.
Councillor Lathers said she’d practiced social distancing for years, mainly from her ex-husband, estate agents and people who read The Daily Mail. Councillor Watterson said that with supermarket shelves now cleared of loo roll because of panic buying, he’d found The Daily Mail to be soft, strong and very, very long. Councillor Andrews, switching his audio back on, said he’d heard rumours that The Sun was actually softer if you were a folder and not a scruncher. He’d also heard The Daily Telegraph was more absorbent, with a quilted edition on Sundays. He muted his audio again, but not before everyone heard a soft groan and splash.
Councillor Lathers said she’d touched a copy of The News of the World once and had to self-isolate for fourteen days.
Item 3
Councillor Gooding said this whole thing with the pandemic was just scaremongering and that Britain had survived the Blitz. Councillor Boothby said she was no expert, but understood you couldn’t generally catch the Blitz by somebody coughing next to you on a bus. You also couldn’t catch the Blitz by walking round in large crowds in deliberate ignorance of advice from qualified health experts that people should stay at home as an entirely sensible precaution to minimise the risk of infecting the elderly and those already in poor health.
Councillor Watterson added that he was no expert either, but understood that comparing the pandemic to something that happened in World War II was at best naïve jingoism and at worst the intellectual reasoning of reckless simpletons.
Councillor Gooding said that British people were made of stronger stuff and even though he’d caught the virus at a darts match in the pub last Wednesday and had since gone to three concerts, nine supermarkets, two schools and a hospital, it would all turn out for the best if everyone just thought more positively, and believed harder, and Got Virus Done. At this point he coughed loudly and his line went dead.
Item 4
Councillor Boothby said it would be a truly beautiful thing for the people of Shufflehampton to set aside their longstanding and ultimately meaningless differences during this crisis to do all they could to work together for the sake of the most desperate and disadvantaged. Already Councillor Boothby had seen many inspiring examples of selflessness and love in the community which, in their compassionate simplicity, had done much to restore her ailing faith in the precious, innate beauty of humanity. In desperate times, she mused, it was astounding how distance could bring people together when proximity so often tore them apart. It was the ultimate paradox.
Councillor Watterson said they’d run out of Ultimate Paradox in the chemists but he’d got twenty boxes of Lemsip and what was left of the hand sanitizer.
Councillor Boothby hoofed Councillor Watterson in the cobblers.
Item 5
The Acting Chair asked if there was any other business. Councillor Andrews, switching his audio back on, said he didn’t know but he’d keep at it for a bit.
He muted his audio again, but not before everyone heard his wife come in.
The meeting ended at 8.01 pm, with absolutely no pasta anywhere.
Councillor Gooding said this whole thing with the pandemic was just scaremongering and that Britain had survived the Blitz. Councillor Boothby said she was no expert, but understood you couldn’t generally catch the Blitz by somebody coughing next to you on a bus. You also couldn’t catch the Blitz by walking round in large crowds in deliberate ignorance of advice from qualified health experts that people should stay at home as an entirely sensible precaution to minimise the risk of infecting the elderly and those already in poor health.
Simon Carter 
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