Mission Satirical
Exactly twelve months ago, I was summoned to an office by a distinguished and venerable media magnate, a room of such vast expanse that the intimidating distance between the door I entered through and the monolithic mahogany desk behind which said magnate sat felt like the space separating opposing goalposts on the pitch at Wembley. When advised to proceed, I resembled Bracket, the dutiful butler from ‘Chigley’, plodding down the lengthy gallery taking him to Lord Belborough.
Once I arrived at the desk, the legendary figure whose call cannot be refused was facing the window, overlooking the flat wet panorama of Norfolk, a marshy emerald landscape peppered by rosy-cheeked, big-eared boys and buxom wenches carrying baskets festooned with jars of Coleman’s Mustard. An odourless vapour rose from behind the leather chair and the only sound to punctuate the unsettling silence was the occasional unhinged chuckle. I became convinced I was poised to be confronted by a Bond villain stroking a white cat, but when the chair eventually swiveled round from the window and its occupant fixed me with a stare that commanded instant subservience, I was face-to-face with Madam Anna Raccoon.
She told me she’d seen some of the videos I’d produced. ‘Particularly,’ she said with a disarmingly charming if untraceable English accent, ‘that Exposure series. Master G and I especially enjoyed that one.’ She invited me to take a seat and I acquiesced with an anxious desire to please. ‘I was pondering on Saturdays,’ she continued. ‘Such a lacklustre comedown from my hectic weekday schedule. Saturday needs a kick and I envisage a video – a weekly video in which the news events of the previous seven days are summarised with satire. Naturally, there was only one person I could approach. Do you accept your mission…Petunia?’
The pause before she spoke my name for the first time seemed wide enough to span the Broads. My throat was dry and I couldn’t verbally reply so I settled for a nod and a weak smile. ‘Marvellous,’ she said. ‘I shall expect the first to be posted next Saturday, and every week thereafter. Good day.’
And with that, she swiveled back to face the window again and the vapour I calculated must have emanated from the silver e-cigarette wedged between her lips like the poison dart of an Amazonian tribesman began to rise once more. I knew our summit was at an end and I made my way towards the distant door. As my hand made contact with the handle, she momentarily stopped me in my tracks. ‘I do hope you won’t disappoint,’ she said, a statement issued in a manner that implied to disappoint would be to forfeit one’s life. I exited the office and scurried home. I had work to do. And now that work is at an end, exactly one year on from that memorable summons. I do hope I didn’t disappoint…
Petunia Winegum
-
June 27, 2015 at 9:54 am -
Not sure I quite see Our Beloved Landlady as Norfolk’s answer to Baron Silas Greenbacks nor you as some kind of Geordie Dangermouse to be honest….maybe one of his henchcrows?
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:23 am -
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:30 am -
Still trying to work out the Geordie reference…
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:42 am -
You live in “Geordie Land”, North of the yellow line …or ‘Mordor’ as it is properly called.
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/1/19/North-south_in_UK.png
-
-
-
June 27, 2015 at 12:54 pm
-
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:23 am -
But not stroking a raccoon on her lap? Shome mishtake shurely?
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:29 am -
Petunia, can I embed your latest video on my last blog?
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:29 am -
Feel free.
-
June 27, 2015 at 10:45 am -
cheers chief
-
-
-
June 27, 2015 at 11:04 am -
I love that video of Dale Winton going mad on the set of “Supermarket Sweep” .
-
June 27, 2015 at 11:47 am -
buxom wenches carrying baskets festooned with jars of Coleman’s Mustard
Ah yes…Coleman’s..Norfolk’s Spanish Fly… (You don’t want to know what the Norfolk KY is…trust me on that!)
-
June 27, 2015 at 12:07 pm -
“I’ll be lucky if I get a job with Anglia television”…
Radio Rabbit Breeder? I doubt you have the requisite number of superfluous digits.
-
June 27, 2015 at 3:18 pm -
When I saw the Anglia building in the centre of Norwich, all I could think of was that silver figure on horseback and then ‘And now, from Norwich, it’s the quiz of the week!’
-
June 27, 2015 at 4:34 pm -
Theme tune of my childhood (although Mother Dwarf disliked us watching the ‘commercial’ TV, not being working class):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u02ZP0TiNU-
June 27, 2015 at 4:37 pm -
Ah, how I miss the old ITV idents. ATV’s was one of the all-time classics, even if ‘Crossroads’ invariably followed it.
-
June 27, 2015 at 4:39 pm -
LWT and then The Kenny Everett Video Show!
-
June 27, 2015 at 4:41 pm -
My bad, it was ‘Thames’ for the video show.
-
-
-
-
-
June 27, 2015 at 3:21 pm -
“Give me a high six!”
A local landlord on the Isle of Wight, made similar comments in jokes written on chalkboards, outside his pub. Two people called the police!
http://www.iwcp.co.uk/news/news/pub-landlord-defends-signs-after-police-complaints-84245.aspx
-
June 27, 2015 at 3:38 pm -
Surprised political correctness has reached the Isle of Wight. I thought it was still 1957 over there?
-
June 27, 2015 at 3:46 pm -
I so wish it was. Mind you, that would make me -3 years old!
-
-
-
-
June 27, 2015 at 12:24 pm -
Ah! The North-South divide. It’s a shame that the UK was missing from the Entropa sculpture (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Entropa) as it might have been a theme. The Wikipedia description misses out that Italy also has a pronounced N-S divide, although it picked up on the fact that the football players appear to be playing with themselves (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) …
-
June 27, 2015 at 3:47 pm -
“Be clear, number two; this organization does not tolerate failure…” Enter. stage left, Rosa Klebb, wearing some adjusted Jimmy Choos…
Well, it’s working well so far…
-
June 27, 2015 at 4:03 pm -
What? A sign-off broadcast without that never-to-be-forgotten feature of 25HN:
“Who…gives…a…shit….”?
{ 26 comments… read them below or add one }