2 SEPTEMBER 1995, Page 44

ISLE OF J _j ,GLI MALT SCOTCH %Nisi , ' il ti 115

LE OF

st I! MALT SCOTCH VNISMI COMPETITION

Horribul visiter

Jaspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 1896 you were invited to provide a description, written by a nine-year-old to a friend, of a horrible visit by a horrible adult visitor.

'Well, she arrived. She wouldn't be here if she hadn't, would she?' Peggy Sandars' nice opening is then followed by the yukky peck, bestowed or exacted, which featured in most of your entries — 'she made me kiss her, which was like thistles and melted plasticine' (D.A. Prince). The visitor usual- ly swallowed too much, as in 'she's zonked out on the settee and Dad's zonked out on the lawn — why do grownups drink so much wine?' or, 'Mr Blair doesn't believe in fair shares — he ate three of the meringues and nearly all the strawberries.' The most unusual visit was an early morn- ing one from a South African policeman, but that was too near the knuckle to be entertaining. Some of your nine-year-olds were quite as horrible as the visitor, so that one's sympathies were precariously bal- anced.

The prizewinners, printed below, who get £20 each, stood out clearly. The bonus bottle of Isle of Jura Single Malt Scotch whisky goes to Rosemary Fisher. Auntie Mavis brought me a colouring book. Honest! I wanted to take my tea upstairs and watch Byker Grove but they made me sit at table and be polite. I told sort her some wicked jokes but she just so of screwed up her mouth and looked at my mother. Afterwards, she said, 'A game of

m ludo, little an?' Well, weird!

And she hated our dog! He tried to make friends with her, licking all up her legs and that, but she made my dad take him away. He was clean too. I'd just hosed him. I got dragged out of hiding when she was her leaving. I gave h my dead mean look in case she tried to kiss me. She patted my head instead and messed up the gel. I shook hands politely, though. She didn't know I'd been busy picking my nose behind the settee.

(Rosemary Fisher)

She said what did we usually have for lunch and I said my favourite was Penne all'Amafriciana and my worst was kedgeree and she said you'll have sardines on toast and like it. When she bends over you can see the top of her legging-thingies like the ones Miss Crosby-Hopkins wears in Verbal Reasoning only she's not covered in wodges of blubber. Her boyfriend came round just now and showed us his Orange mobile and then gave us an Instant each but I don't think she should have let him in, especially if Daddy knew he had an earring.

I hope your modem's working because it will be only three hours before Mummy's back from Frankfurt and you really must get your nanny to invite us round for Cluedo. Will you, please, Lucy? I'll be your best friend and you can have one of my Julips. (David Jones)

We've had Uncle Edgar all week. He's not my Uncle Edgar, but Mum's, which makes him ancient. Could anybody be that old? He brought me a present, a book he says was his favourite at my age, which proves what you've always said, that kids in the old times knew nothing. It's the life story of a horse, told by the horse. That's right, a talk- ing horse. Tank Girl it is not. I asked him where he was coming from and he looked puzzled and said New Zealand. Seriously weird or what. Then he sort of angled his cheek at me as though he expected me to Idss it. It's like a blood-soaked spider's web. He's tried it twice since then. Once more and I'm going to ring Esther Rantzen, hon- estly. That should bring the spooks out for him. Brilliant!

(Noel Petty) When Daddy opened the door there was a funny old man all dressed in black.

Daddy knows him because the man came in and Daddy gave him some whisky. Daddy looked annoyed when the man took the bottle and poured himself a really big glass.

The man said he hadn't seen Mummy and Daddy lately, and they looked like they'd done something they shouldn't.

The man started drinking from the bot- tle, then laughing and shouting. He said anyway he didn't care if he never saw any- one again, and he should have been a pop star.

The man put his arm around Mummy, and Daddy got angry and told him to go. The man put the bottle in his pocket and went away, shouting rude words along the street.

I asked Daddy about the man, but he said go to bed, so I don't know what a vicar is. (Paul Hatton) Yuk! These hols are the worst ever. An old girl Dad says is his 45th cousin or some- thing is staying with us. She has taken over the cooking and keeps burning sticks that stink like a Japanese juggler's jock-strap. Mummy has shot off to Gran's.

Funny but Daddy won't hear a word against Fetid Flo. I asked why he had moved bedrooms and he said, 'Our visitor is nervy in a strange bed.'

Send us a food parcel if you've got some spare dosh. FF has taken our cash for Oxfam and won't let us eat sweets or chocs unless they are organic. She makes us work in the house and garden to earn the muck she feeds us because she is into Barter.

The bell is going for dinner — a handful of nuts and two unpeeled spuds. Roll on the beginning of term. (Michael Birt)

No. 1899: BUFF

The acronym for boring, unfunny, false, tasteless, like the items in the worst gossip columns. You are invited to provide such an item (maximum 120 words). Entries to 'Competition No. 1899' by 13 September.