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COMPETITION

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Dirty dozen

Jaspistos

IN COMPETITION NO. 1816 you were given 12 words beginning with n and invited to incorporate them into a plausible and entertaining piece of prose.

Hats off to E. F. Bradford for achieving a plausible, if not wildly entertaining piece in only 56 words. It failed by the thinnest of whiskers to get a prizewinning place. Those printed below who succeeded (£20 apiece) are to be congratulated not only on their ingenuity and variety of subject mat- ter but also on avoiding my sand-trap, signalled by the niblick — a golf-course setting featuring nude mixed foursomes and a nearby convent. The bonus bottle of Drummond's Pure Malt Scotch whisky goes to Nicholas Hodgson for his Wode- housian frolic. I don't know if you've come across these clubs. Pretty rum, I reckon, with not a nem. con. resolution or amended constitution in sight. Anyway, there we were, self, Jeeves and that bally nipper Thos, who'd insisted on seeing Soho, outside the Nirvana Club, which was promising naughty non-stop striptease, when out .popped that blighter Spode, looking furtive and nastier than ever.

My knowledge of these places is nil, but Jeeves explained the idea. Apparently, these fillies kick off in some costume — a nun, or plus-fours complete with mashie and niblick there's a spot of dancing, then they get down to the nitty-gritty, as it were, and take the lot off.

'You don't mean it, Jeeves? Absolutely Harry starkers?'

'Only for a nanosecond, sir. The lights are extinguished almost immediately.' Notwithstanding young Thos's evident in- terest, I prefer to confine nudism to the morning tub. But Spode . . . makes you think, what?

(Nicholas Hodgson) 'Chin up, Perkins,' I said. 'Nil desperandum!' We had been slogging non-stop through some of the nastier jungle of my experience for timeless weeks, leaving the frenetic world of the nanosecond far behind. Eventually we reached the hidden temple. Notwithstanding our dis- hevelled appearance, we were greeted by a holy man, bearing a phallic rod of office, a woman at his side. They were both naked.

'Blimey, sir, nudism!' said Perkins. 'No, Perkins, they have discarded worldly concerns in search of Nirvana. Shc must be some kind of nun.'

'You mean they never get down to the nitty-gritty, sir? What about the nipper then?' For a child had appeared. 'Hush!' I said. Then, to the holy man, 'We desire only peace.' 'Carried nem. con.' he replied, in perfect English.

'Wait a moment, sir,' said Perkins. 'That's not a phallus, it's a niblick.'

'Ah!' I said. 'Then Kilroy was indeed here.' (Noel Petty) The Senior Tutor's entirely credible threat to take his niblick to anyone who disagreed was enough to occasion the swiftest decision of the Governing Body since the motion prohibiting the serving of Australian wine at High Table. As Dr Splunck always used to say, it took all of a nanosecond for those present to approve nem. con. the reintroduction of nudism into the Fellows' Garden, the proximity of St Agnes' Convent notwithstanding.

Physical openness among the College's Senior Members persisted non-stop for some years, and objections were raised neither by a nun nor even by any of the nastier, Nirvana-seeking under- graduates. Trouble was to come, though, when a toddler strayed into the garden and was followed by its mother. In a press statement distinguished by uncommon attention to anatomical nitty- gritty, she admitted, 'I wouldn't've minded the nipper seeing'm if they hadn't had nil sex

appeal.' (Jonathan King)

'Holiday?' Myra grimaced. 'Non-stop rain, visi- bility nil! After five days we decided nem. con. to go home. Getting back to the nitty-gritty of the office couldn't be nastier than life in a caravan with a frustrated husband and two bored children. Tom's hoped-for golfing exploits and Peter's surreptitious desire to glimpse some female nudism both came to nothing. So there we were at the station, sharing a bench with an elderly nun wrapped in her own personal Nirva- na. Notwithstanding the weather, the boys had spent some hours fishing and James had insisted on taking his catch home in a bucket, which I put under the seat. Suddenly, chancing to look down, I beheld a huge crab making for the nun's ankle, a menacing nipper waving aloft. For a nanosecond my heart stopped; then, grabbing a niblick from Tom's bag, I dispatched it. The nun continued her meditation, seeing and hearing

nothing.' (0. Smith)

Notwithstanding that mawkish nipper Christ- opher Robin's affection for 'sand between the toes', today's youth — who envisage non-stop sun, sex and (of course) sand as their Nirvana will find within a veritable nanosecond of sitting down that nudism gets straight to the nitty-gritty. To be a desert father (or anchoretic nun) with a label round the neck 'nil by mouth' could hardly be nastier.

We more seasoned expats long ago resolved nem. con. that the only use of sand is in bunkers — and of the seaside itself, to furnish golf-links. The brassie, we cry, not the brassiere: niblick, not nooky!

(Martin Woodhead)