ME HIGHLAND MALT

HUMS,

(ytRLOji PURE HIGHLAND MALT

SCOTCH WHOA.

COMPETITION

The last yaroo

Jaspistos

In Competition No. 1750 you were invit- ed to give the threatened Billy Bunter one last uninhibited episode at Greyfriars.

I'm not a Bunter fan myself, more of a William man, actually; but you have to hand it to his creator, Charles Hamilton (pen-name Frank Richards). Born in the year Disraeli made us masters of the Suez Canal, he launched Bunter in 1908 at the time the first dreadnought took to the water, and at 86, five years after the sput- nik went into orbit, he was still changing his typewriter ribbon but not his style: 'O00000gh!' gurgled Bunter.

'Urrrggh!' gasped Coker.

'Wurrrggh!'

'Ooo-er!' I like that careful hyphen.

I concede that this might be interpreted as a 'sexist' competition. Indeed, only one woman, to go by signatures, entered. I apologise to the ladies and promise to make it up to them another week.

Glen Lillebrew, Charles F. Garvey and D. Shepherd all hit the right note, but not the jackpot, which is divided (£20 each) among the prizewinners printed below. The bonus bottle of Aberlour Single Malt whisky goes to Stan Ingram for the most joyously uninhibited offering, which will no doubt receive the attention of the Race Relations Board.

'I say, you fellows!' Bunter barged into Harry Wharton's study, waving a piece of paper. 'My postal order's arrived. It was delayed by a woman postman.' The Famous Five were having tea. Hurree Jamset Ram Singh was toasting crumpets before the fire. 'Get out, you short-sighted, overweight bladder of lard,' he said. 'You'd better look out, Singh, or you'll turn from a wog to a nigger in front of that fire, Bunter chortled. Bob Cherry rose. 'And You keep off, Cherry. I know your real name's Cherlinski and you've had a nose job and dyed

your hair.'

Four pairs of hands grabbed the Owl of the Remove and Harry Wharton thrashed him soundly with his prefect's cane.

`Yaroo, beasts!' yelled Bunter. 'I'll tell every- one that Nugent's father is a Catholic priest and that Johnny Bull is Dr Quelch's bastard by Matron and that ...'

The fat Owl's tirade was cut short as he was flung into the corridor and the Famous Five went back to planning a gang rape at St Teresa's. (Stan Ingram)

'Girls!' exclaimed Harry Wharton, kicking Bunter abstractedly. `Greyfriars taking girls!'

'Beast!' said the fat Owl. 'Only a pirate scheme. Only Bessie. My sister,' he added Proudly. `Yaroo!'

'Pilot, not pirate, fat ass!' said Bob Cherry. 'First time I've ever heard of a pilot sinking the boat,' said Wharton thoughtfully. 'We must avoid this at all costs.'

So it was that when Mr Bunter arrived to check facilities for his daughter, he found a school in manifest disorder. The Chums were kicking Bunter; Skinner, Snoop, and Stott were doing something shady by the bicycle shed; and Vemon-Smith was being a Bounder. The scheme's off!' shouted Cherry, rushing Into the study one day. We did it!' cried Wharton joyfully.

`My foot!' said Cherry. 'Do you know why

Bunter's guv'nor complained? Because the tuck shop facilities were insufficient!'

'The family resemblancefulness,' said Hurree Jamset Ram Singh, is terrific!' (Paul Griffin) 'I say, Inky', chortled Bob Cherry, 'Bunter's doing five hundred lines saying he mustn't be racist.'

'This racefulness is ridiculous', said Hurree Jamset Ram Singh, the Nabob of Bhanipur. 'I begged the esteemed Quelchy to have pity on the fatuous Owl, but he was not heedful.'

Billy Bunter's offence arose from the misuse of his ventriloquial powers. His disembodied voice had told a Chinese form-mate that he was Wun Lung too many, and had advised the Nabob to join his compatriots selling gaspers at the cor- ner shop. In vain had Bunter protested to Mr Quelch that he had to put up with insults — as when Vernon-Smith described him as 'circum- ferentially advantaged'.

Now, as he slaved away at his lines, Bunter's spirit rebelled. He tore up the pages he had com- pleted and began anew: Inkies and Chinkies out. Quelchy is a libiral crepe. The famus Five are Enid Bliton cissies.' (Peter Veale) 'I never stole your beastly cake,' cried the woeful Owl, brushing away the last crumbs of evidence. 'And if I did, you mustn't hit me. It's not PC, Cherry, you rotter.'

'Not what, you frabjous ass?' 'I'm jolly well challenged. I've got an eating disorder.'

'Yes. You're eating our tuck.'

Thump. 'Ouch! If you hit me, you're being jolly well stoutist, you rotters. Like you mustn't call Inky Inky just because he's black as the ace of spades, or point out that Johnny Bull's a thick Yorkshireman Thump. The Yorkshire Removite was not pleased.

'The tactfulness of the esteemed Bunter is not terrific,' grinned the dusky Nabob of Bhanipur.

His cricket bat made forceful contact with the person of William George Bunter.

'Yaroo! I'm gravitationally challenged! I've got learning difficulties! I'm a single-parent fam- ily, you beasts! I'm dyslexic!'

Thump.

'For all you know I could be anorexic!'

. (George Simmers)

No. 1753: What next?

The Penguin Book of Penguins, The Virago Book of Viragos, The Faber Book of Fabians, The Bodley Book of Heads . . . These were suggestions by a reviewer exasperated by the recent spate of antholo- gies. You are invited to provide real items (maximum 150 words) for any of these books. Please quote sources. Entries to 'Competition No. 1753' by 6 November.