23/04/2016

JOKEATHON

Wilson can still barely contain his curiosity about what is in The Bees' Parcel.

Between them, Polly and Billi carried it off to their room, saying only that it was a surprise and everyone would have to wait for their Guest Blog on 1st May to see what it is.


This uncertainty has made W pretty tense, and Tiny Toy's constant litany of jokes isn't helping settle his nerves:


'Anyway, what happens to a frog's car when it breaks down? It gets toad away! I went to Waterstones and asked the woman for a book about turtles. She asked: "Hardback?" and I was like: "Yeah, and little heads." Just read that 4,153,237 people got married last year — not to cause any trouble but shouldn't that be an even number? I think my neighbour is stalking me as she's been Googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night. I went to a zoo last week...'


It was at this point that Wilson finally snapped, and he picked TT up by his tail.


'There was only one animal there,' TT continued, undaunted, 'and that was a dog.'


Dropping him into a brown paper bag, he closed the top.


From within the bag a tiny, muffled voice was just audible, shouting, 'It was a shih-tzu!'



22/04/2016

A MYSTERIOUS PARCEL

This morning a parcel arrived, addressed to The Bees!

This is unprecedented, and Wilson had to read the label several times before finally conceding that it wasn't for him.


He is consumed with curiosity, not helped by Polly and Billi being very secretive and refusing to open the package until they are alone...


Tiny Toy, meanwhile, has hit his joke-telling stride, and is reeling off a stream of non-stop one-liners:


'Okay, What's the difference between a Hippo and a Zippo? One is really heavy, the other is a little lighter! Surely every car is a people carrier? Red sky at night: Shepherd's delight. Blue sky at night: Day.'


As TT paused for breath, the Johnson Brothers and Anthony applauded him and whooped enthusiastically.


'So,' he resumed, 'Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool — I gave him a glass of water. I changed my password to "incorrect" — so whenever I forget what it is the computer will say "Your password is incorrect".'



20/04/2016

TT TELLS A JOKE

After a period of intense anticipation, during which everyone stared at TT, he took a deep breath and said, in a dead-pan voice, 'A man walked into a bar. Ouch!'

Wilson frowned, then asked, 'Did the barman say, "Why the long face?"'


TT replied, 'No, it was an iron bar.' 


After an embarrassing pause, he continued, 'Okay, what's orange and sounds like a parrot?'


W scratched his head  for a moment, before TT supplied, 'A carrot!'


Antony thought for a moment before bursting into laughter. 'An IRON bar!' he giggled, but Wilson climbed off the swinging seat and wandered away, shaking his head.



18/04/2016

NAME CHANGE

Following his in-depth research into the social and family life of ants, Wilson has changed the name of his proposed novel.

It will now be called Ants Are Pretty Much All The Same — Until You Eat Them and will be less of a novel, more of a recipe book.


Wearing a glum expression as he sat on the garden swing with his literary collaborators, he told me he'd had no idea what an authoritarian, fascistic race ants were, all driven by unquestioning obedience to the whims and wishes of the Ant Queen. 


Warming to his theme, he explained that ants have no social life, nor any understanding of individuality, and instead of names they have only ranks and numbers.


I wondered aloud whether this information itself might not make an interesting book, but Wilson dismissed my idea out of hand.


'D'you know what, New Dad?' he replied, 'I can't be arsed! It's a novel or nothing — you can't get rich writing textbooks!'


On a more positive note, however, TT suddenly shocked everyone by announcing that he'd thought of a joke for Wilson's Joke Book.



17/04/2016

NINETEEN EIGHTY-FOUR

Wilson, still stuck for plot ideas for his novel All Ants Are Not The Same, has decided to go straight to the horse's mouth, so to speak — he's interviewing the residents (AKA inmates) of his Luxury Ant Farm (AKA The Pantry) to see if they have any interesting family secrets etc.

So far all they have told him is, 'We Are Ant! Resistance Is Futile! You Will Be Assimilated!' which doesn't sound very hopeful to me, although it does tend to confirm Wilson's Mum, Mrs Vermilingua's thesis that ants are not individuals so may be safely eaten by a vegetarian.


At this rate, though, Wilson's novel will be a lot less Poldark and a lot more 1984...