From: davet@hrc63.co.uk (Dave Thorpe)
Subject: Nigel the Hedgehog, Chapter II
----- News saved at 22 May 89 12:02:57 GMT
Authors: kelly > kelvin > cmw > adrian > davet > aktar > gary
The Saga of Nigel the Hedgehog
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter II
The hand was pretty bad as well. But enough of plays on words and
onwards always onwards with the plot. Nigel felt a bit relaxed now, as
he had defeated another commie-bastard lorry driver. But, using his
inverse law he realised that something pretty bad would happen soon.
He wound his weary way along the windey windy woad and wondered about
why he was without water and wine. Luckily he saw in the distance a
public house and increased his pace to reach it. As he approached it
he recognised the "Leather Pope"..... Ah memories... of him and Ronnie, who
used to meet him there before going back to his den for a steamy prickly
sex session, (if you consider the anatomy of a hedgehog then gay sex is
probaly quite painful). Oh well fuck Ronnie (not literaly), I have no love
for him now. But Ronnie had different feelings. Was he at this moment
drowning his sorrows in the Leather Pope?............
Nigel pushed open the large creaky door with considerable trepidation.
He need not have worried for inside the air was full of soft, mellifluous
'baa-ing' and the idyllic scene of orgiastic sheep in a variety of
interesting positions, none of which had not occured in Nigel's previous
fantasies of course, as he was a hedgehog of the world. But suddenly his
senses came back to him because from halfway around the world he could
hear the agonised screams of a damsel in distress and he knew that now was the
time for action.
His senses instantly alert, Nigel glared around the room. The
atmosphere was smoky ( from his extensive research Nigel knew it was of cigar
smoke, from Havana, made on 3rd September 1987 ), the continuing screams
appeared to come from upstairs. Quickly, but silently, Nigel made his way
unseen through the crowded room ( how DOES he do that? ), and over to the
stair. Climbing up the old wooden stairs was tricky ( have you ever seen a
climbing hedgehog ? ), but he got to the top with suprising speed, agility and
athletic grace. The screams came from behind a locked door ( he knew it was
locked, he saw films ! ), and he peered through the keyhole to look. Inside a
sight met his eyes. After sorting out the various limbs, he realised that the
screams were probably not of distress !
This dress was floating mysteriously in the air without a second
thought for other occupants of the establishment. You see, Pinafore the dress,
(Pinny to her friends - $40 an hour to strangers), was part-time super-
soprano singer with that well known group of Close harmony singers, the
"Willy Jockstrap and the fan-danglers". Her dubious voice was not all that
it should have been. Desperately trying to hit top-E in their opening number,
"She was only a fishmongers Daughter But....", she cracked 2 mirrors, 5
World Records and came a close third in the World "Orgasm faking" contest
taking place 200mile away in Dreamland.
And as we return to the story of our intrepid super-hero 'Nigel',
who's cause for peace, freedom and justice was so rudely interrupted
by ramblings about dresses and other such like, he returned downstairs
to drink some hearty ale with the people of this fine planet, who
loved Nigel so dearly.
He ordered a bottle of 'old peculiar' and sat drinking drowning his
sorrows as he realised he had not done one super-hedgehog thing all
day. He had not saved any soles from eternal sin, had not saved and
cats from disgusting cat food, and had not given his autograph to
anybody! Oh woe!
But in the distance, and getting closer, the evil, jealous forces of
darkness headed southwards to mame - even kill - our dear super hero
Nigel. Little did our friend know.
Ronnie opened the pub door, nuzzling it open to its full extent with
his nobbly nasal nostrils, only to have it slammed basck in his face
by some inconsiderate piss-head who didn't appreciate the 'oh so
fresh' influx of air into the pub (by the way is it a pub or a hotel?)
Ronnie was not a ram who gave up easily!! Half an hour later he was
at the bar ordering a drink - called a BLOODY NIGEL - whilst laying
a fresh layer of excrement on the shoes of the inconsiderate sod.
Nigel was strategically placed on the opposite side of the bar,
drink in one hand, dry roasted peanuts in the other......
-=*=-
More later.
Newsgroups: Eunet.jokes
Subject: Nigel The Hedgehog, chapter II
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Reply-To: davet@hrc63.UUCP (Dave Thorpe)
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Authors: kelly > kelvin > cmw > adrian > davet > aktar > gary
The Saga of Nigel the Hedgehog
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter II
The hand was pretty bad as well. But enough of plays on words and
onwards always onwards with the plot. Nigel felt a bit relaxed now, as
he had defeated another commie-bastard lorry driver. But, using his
inverse law he realised that something pretty bad would happen soon.
He wound his weary way along the windey windy woad and wondered about
why he was without water and wine. Luckily he saw in the distance a
public house and increased his pace to reach it. As he approached it
he recognised the "Leather Pope"..... Ah memories... of him and Ronnie, who
used to meet him there before going back to his den for a steamy prickly
sex session, (if you consider the anatomy of a hedgehog then gay sex is
probaly quite painful). Oh well fuck Ronnie (not literaly), I have no love
for him now. But Ronnie had different feelings. Was he at this moment
drowning his sorrows in the Leather Pope?............
Nigel pushed open the large creaky door with considerable trepidation.
He need not have worried for inside the air was full of soft, mellifluous
'baa-ing' and the idyllic scene of orgiastic sheep in a variety of
interesting positions, none of which had not occured in Nigel's previous
fantasies of course, as he was a hedgehog of the world. But suddenly his
senses came back to him because from halfway around the world he could
hear the agonised screams of a damsel in distress and he knew that now was the
time for action.
His senses instantly alert, Nigel glared around the room. The
atmosphere was smoky ( from his extensive research Nigel knew it was of cigar
smoke, from Havana, made on 3rd September 1987 ), the continuing screams
appeared to come from upstairs. Quickly, but silently, Nigel made his way
unseen through the crowded room ( how DOES he do that? ), and over to the
stair. Climbing up the old wooden stairs was tricky ( have you ever seen a
climbing hedgehog ? ), but he got to the top with suprising speed, agility and
athletic grace. The screams came from behind a locked door ( he knew it was
locked, he saw films ! ), and he peered through the keyhole to look. Inside a
sight met his eyes. After sorting out the various limbs, he realised that the
screams were probably not of distress !
This dress was floating mysteriously in the air without a second
thought for other occupants of the establishment. You see, Pinafore the dress,
(Pinny to her friends - $40 an hour to strangers), was part-time super-
soprano singer with that well known group of Close harmony singers, the
"Willy Jockstrap and the fan-danglers". Her dubious voice was not all that
it should have been. Desperately trying to hit top-E in their opening number,
"She was only a fishmongers Daughter But....", she cracked 2 mirrors, 5
World Records and came a close third in the World "Orgasm faking" contest
taking place 200mile away in Dreamland.
And as we return to the story of our intrepid super-hero 'Nigel',
who's cause for peace, freedom and justice was so rudely interrupted
by ramblings about dresses and other such like, he returned downstairs
to drink some hearty ale with the people of this fine planet, who
loved Nigel so dearly.
He ordered a bottle of 'old peculiar' and sat drinking drowning his
sorrows as he realised he had not done one super-hedgehog thing all
day. He had not saved any soles from eternal sin, had not saved and
cats from disgusting cat food, and had not given his autograph to
anybody! Oh woe!
But in the distance, and getting closer, the evil, jealous forces of
darkness headed southwards to mame - even kill - our dear super hero
Nigel. Little did our friend know.
Ronnie opened the pub door, nuzzling it open to its full extent with
his nobbly nasal nostrils, only to have it slammed basck in his face
by some inconsiderate piss-head who didn't appreciate the 'oh so
fresh' influx of air into the pub (by the way is it a pub or a hotel?)
Ronnie was not a ram who gave up easily!! Half an hour later he was
at the bar ordering a drink - called a BLOODY NIGEL - whilst laying
a fresh layer of excrement on the shoes of the inconsiderate sod.
Nigel was strategically placed on the opposite side of the bar,
drink in one hand, dry roasted peanuts in the other......
-=*=-
More later.