25 APRIL 1998, Page 60

COMPETITION

Funny ha-ha

Jaspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 2030 you were challenged to write a comic piece ending with a given, apparently tragic sentence taken from a modern novel.

The sentence does indeed come from a tragic context — the end of the scene in John Updike's Rabbit, Run in which Harry Angstrom's wife Janice becomes aware that she has negligently let their baby drown in the bath. My challenge produced the smallest and least coruscating entry ever. It is very off-putting to be command- ed to be funny. When I was young and she was old, I was sometimes asked to dinner parties by Lady Aberconway (the society hostess whose memoirs contained the pic- turesque misprint: 'At my grandfather's house it was the custom, after port, for the gentlemen to go into the garden to pump shit.') In her grand-hostessy way she would raise her hand at the head of the table, cre- ate a hush, gesture towards me and announce, 'Now James is going to tell a fantastically amusing story he once told me — about a postman and a sardine', or some such. There was silence among the great and not very good, and I proceeded to my comedian's doom. So it was with nearly all of you. There are only four prizewinners (printed below) this week. They get £30 each, and the bonus bottle of The Macallan The Malt Scotch whisky belongs to Chris Tingley.

Rosalind notes, with satisfaction, the effect of her treacle pudding on their episcopal guest. He is beatific, ready, surely, to grant preferment to her husband — to poor, unworldly Jeremy, with his air of melancholy acceptance which (accord- ing to her irreverent nephew Algy) makes the author of Ecclesiastes look like David Mellor. Yet Algy, through an agency, has organised her crowning coup. 'We know your little hobby, Bishop,' she says coyly. `We've arranged a sur- prise. Something you've been looking for.' He, pudding-sated, beams back.

Suddenly nervous, she goes to phone. Is it coming, Al'?'g she asks. 'It?' the lad replies. 'That red-headed dipper,' she cries. 'The Bishop's an aviary buff, remember?' 'Golly, Aunt,' comes the contrite voice. 'I thought you said stripper.' Too late! She knows, knows, while knocks sound at the door, that the worst thing that has ever happened to any woman in the world has happened to her. (Chris Tingley)

Norma studies the competition page. Especially the anagrams. They stretch her mind. Rebuses are too easy for a housewife who is a member of Mensa. But anagrams keep her mind alive while she is doing the chores. This one is a real tease. What can she make of lethal gender scoop? Clothe garden poles'? Hardly — the clue is in the phrase itself, a double twist. She bakes a cake and mops the kitchen floor while she thinks. Somehow today it's a personal issue, as if the setter had aimed it at her alone. While she Prepares the stew for dinner she worries at it. Finally she has it: Doorstep challenge. At that moment she hears footsteps on the path. Horror.

She knows, knows, while knocks sound at the door, that the worst thing that has ever hap- pened to any woman in the world has happened to her. (Basil Ransome-Davies) Why, oh why had she come? What would the Women's Institute think of their President?

The other seven passengers on the rusting cargo ship Immutable were male and there was only one common privy, reeking and with two seats. That morning, feeling she could tolerate no more embarrassment, she got up on deck exceptionally early and balanced on the hand- rail to do what had to be done. Immutable lurched as if it had encountered a hole in the ocean.

She was hauled from the sea by two of the ship's cheekiest sailors and carried to her cabin. She fought unsuccessfully to keep her wet clothes on while, horror of horrors, the Captain took photos. Eventually she managed to turn her key. She knows, knows, while knocks sound at the door, that the worst thing that has ever hap- pened to any woman in the world has happened to her. (Michael Birt) The sound of the telephone ringing is like the lonely cry of a lost soul.

She picks it up.

`Hello, Maggie,' croons the voice, gloatingly. 'Michael here. You know — Michael Heseltine. Just thought I'd let you know there's a Party deputation on its way to see you after the leader- ship ballot.'

She knows, knows, while knocks sound at the door, that the worst thing that has ever hap- pened to any woman in the world has happened