Put on your adventuring pants Matron!

Would you like to help me on a quest?

A vision quest if you will, like the bloke off of ‘Star Trek: Voyager’ used to do every time there was an episode about him. (Did you know, that Robert Beltran, the guy who played the enigmatic Native American character Chakotay in the program was in fact, half Mexican? Which just goes to show that if an ‘ethnic’ character is needed, any minority will do at a pinch.)

Anyway, back to my vision quest. Don’t worry if you’re in two minds about the use of mind expanding herbs and the ceaseless native rhythms, I’m not going to ask you to listen to Radio 1 or anything unnatural like that. I’d just like some of you to read a couple of my Blog posts.

It’s not hugely important, I’m being selfish and mercenary and I’m just trying to cheer myself up about because things have all gone a bit crappy today and it’s taking a few more muscles to smile than it does normally (Even if I am wearing a brand-new Jeff Banks shirt that makes me look a bit like a Vicar.)

The thing is, I am just 23 page-views short of hitting my completely made up and arbitrary target of 44,000 by the end of the week.

I’m not suggesting that you just go to my Blog and start reading random stuff, for that way madness lies – And most of you are borderline mental now.

So, I thought I’d give you some suggestions of a few of my favourite post that you can take a look at to cheer yourself up – They’re not my most popular ones by any means, they’re just ones I particularly like.

1. We’ll start with ‘Pandas, the Eastern Scourge’ – where I question the very nature of our ailuropodean planet-mates and try to discover if they’re just ‘Pulling a fast one.’
2. Then there’s ‘T-wit - who?’ – This describes the particular shortcomings of having a real, live, owl as a pet.  These are many and hugely unpleasant (Does contain a picture of the MiniDandy as a small child.)
3. Many of you know that I love ASDA, It’s mainly because of the people you can run into there, but I also performed the only recorded Melonicide in UK History (Also contains a small ladies chest reference, no, actually, it’s a small reference to a ladies chest) – ‘Boobs, Melons and Jumper Lumps’
4. In ‘Maybe they explained it badly?’ – I expose my complete lack of technical understanding to a waiting world… Mainly of how huge, metal aeroplanes can glide through the aether with an alacrity that would easily wound an armoured badger.
5. POWER! – It’s something we all yearn for, but do any of actually understand what it is? – I know I don’t, but I did have a go at explaining it to myself.  It didn’t go particularly well.  But judge for yourself in ‘Any way the wind blows’
6. I’m quite proud of the mixture of Terrorism and Time-Travel that I managed to ram into ‘We are kept keen on the grindstone of pain and necessity’ – Many people reposted this, but it’s not in the top-ten anymore.
7. Now, I’m cheating here, this one is actually in the Top-Ten, but it got favourited and re-tweeted by real famous people on Twitter. ‘Pogonophilia is for everyone, even the young.’ Contains my child-like wonder about why ‘a certain kind of lady’ finds Men with Manly beards very Manly. (Warning, contains a topless, Anne Geddes style photo of me)
8. I’m a great believer that you should wear clothes that make you happy… Wearing a kilt makes me happy (and freshens up my nethers like a man possessed) in ‘Let loose The Kraken Th'Noo’ I perform in what could be construed as a slightly racist fashion, purely so that I don’t have to wear any pants.
9. Some of you might know that on very rare occasions, I ride custom motorcycles. The thing about doing this is that you attract the attention of other people who do the same thing.  These people tend to have lives that are just as colourful as mine, here’s a few stories about my, now sadly demised, friend Jock, ‘No, chopper as in motorcycle - And Greeks.’
10. And the last post I’m going to recommend today also has a slightly Scots flavour.  Well, I could really do a list without including at least one ‘Scots Mick’ story, could I? ‘Then SMick said that Chap was a bad word’ talks about my first trip to the wonderful riverside town of Dumfries, where I nearly got my arms torn off and single-handedly chatted up a xenophobic bouncers girlfriend… Well, I say single-handedly…

Hope you enjoy this quick look at some of my favourite posts, there are a lot more if you’re interested.  Feel free to repost them, or spam links to people you think might be interested.

In fact, I think I’d quite like that.

Emergency Broadcast! This is (Not?) a Drill

Because a drill sounds like this: BlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDeckerBlackAndDecker.

Anyway, people of the West Midlands, it is my humble duty, as an (in no way) internationally recognised member of the Pato Banton memorial Emergency Safety Broadcast team to deliver the following serious news update:

-oOo-

The West Midlands in general and Birmingham in particular is on the edge of invasion.  A foreign power has taken hold of the populace and guerrilla terrorist attacks have already started with devastating results.  You will already have noticed the signs, but do you know the cause?

Are you ready?

Can you help us fight back against the insidious horde?

If you don't, your way of life will be forever changed.  Do you currently live in a comfortable house with a cat, a dog, or some fish? - Well think again, when the unleashed plague has finished with you, you'll be sitting in a pile of ash, cuddling the remains of something that may be your deeply loved pet but, looking at it from a different angle, may well be a piece of fire-resistant foam out of that sofa that you got from eBay - And your fish will have boiled dry, or possibly exploded - We didn't really test that bit in fairness.

What am I talking about? What could possibly hope to destroy a area with a population of 5,000,000 or so people, What vile, uncompromising foe could be sneaking into our most loved metropolitan area where everyone has a slightly funny accent?

I'll tell you...

I can hardly bring myself to say it...

It's... It's... Chinese paper lanterns... There, I said it.

Do you remember, back in July, the fire at the recycling plant in Smethwick?  Hundreds of thousands of tonnes of rubbish were mysteriously and completely burned, causing a firestorm of such epic proportions that it may well have been visible from the surface of Mars, probably.

When questioned by BBC local radio, a worker from the company, who had turned up for work as normal, not noticing either the mile high flames, nor the fifty mile long plume of smoke, had this to say:

'Err.. I don't know really, we just collect the recycling, then recycle it.'

Wise words there, a rare insight into a world that we don't often get to look at, I think you'll agree.

The local Council take the threat so seriously, that it is now a criminal offense to launch Chinese Lanterns (or, as they are more rightly called in all of the professional literature 'Fiery Paper Death Balls of Death with added dripping Death-wax') from any of the local, council owned parks - This is punishable by a fine of up to, but not exceeding your total Council Tax rebate amount.  And will be levied by specially equipped Park Services Rangers, once they have shot the offending FaPDoBODWADDoWs out of the sky using a highly modified Super Soaker and a battery operated hand-fan from the Pound-Shop. (So, if you could just hang around for a few minutes whilst they do that, promise not to run off or anything during the process and then pay him - Exact amount only, no change is carried by members of the parks service for personal security reasons - That'd be great.)

Don't add to the problem people...

There's a very real danger that a cloud of FaPDoBoDWADDoWs could bring down an airliner.  A real, live airliner people! For instance, a Boeing 747 flies at an altitude of, ah... well, I don't really know, but it's pretty damn high I'm guessing. And the lanterns? they probably fly at exactly the same height at least I should think.  Imagine the damage that a tiny amount of paper and two matchsticks worth of bamboo could do to a couple of tonnes of rapidly spinning, razor-sharp titanium blades... Imagine it!

Carnage! - It would be like The Hindenburg all over again, if the airliners were made of canvas and full of hydrogen it would be anyway... Which they might be for all you know, you're not a aeroplaney-designer person. Oh! the Humanity!

Also, there's the ever-present problem of wax drippage.  Clouds of as many as four lanterns have been spotted over the Small Heath and Erdington areas and locals have complained of warm exudations falling from the skies and landing in their hair, faces and mouths, often to the accompaniment of 70's guitar music.  The relatively minuscule amount of this oddly opalescent liquid that has been spat out, rather than 'accidentally' swallowed has been gathered, scientifically tested and found to taste a bit like wax (in most cases).

Experts have told us that 'large amounts of scalding hot wax falling onto unsuspecting people' rates quite highly on the United Nations 'Probably best not to do that' list.  In fact, it sits right in between 'Water-boarding civilians in their sleep' and 'Using nerve-gas and blaming it on one of the other big kids in the playground'  Obviously, we wouldn't just pass on potentially inflammatory statements like that without testing them first.

So with your safety in mind, we spent over £14,000,000 million pounds of your money (what with it being your safety and everything) on dripping wax onto people from various heights.  We found that from any height above six and a half feet (or, two meters or so, if you happen to be French) the wax cooled and solidified before it had time to cause any damage, between zero feet and six and a half feet, the wax was warm, but not hot - and felt much like that feeling you get when you get drunk and poke your finger into the melted wax of a candle, stuck in an empty Mateus Rose bottle, in a cheap Italian Restaurant, that you've taken that new girl from Accounting to in the hopes that she'll say 'Oh! Mr [State your name] No-one's ever made me feel like THAT before'.  To ensure completeness, we dug a large hole fifteen feet deep, in the middle of the A38 dual carriageway and tested to see if wax dropping from negative heights would be hotter.  Unfortunately, despite numerous, increasingly expensive tests, we were unable to both make the wax drip upwards and also to make the lanterns float below ground level.

(Please note, due to completely non-related funding cuts, the New Birmingham Library will close with immediate effect.)

And so the warning ends.  Be vigilant and report any sightings of these potential infernos to your local police, fire service and/or religious organisation.

Wake up and smell the bamboo people!

Bamboo?

Gods! I'd never thought...

You don't think it might be the Pandas doing it do you?

MESSAGE ENDS - Your normal programming will resume momentarily...

Should I have bothered? Probably...

I very nearly wasn't going to post a Blog today, I drew a blank with serious ideas, and I couldn't think of anything funny.

I couldn't spin out a story about one overpriced prima-donna of a footballer biting chunks out of another overpriced prima-donna of a footballer then limping off like a petulant seven year old, pretending that he'd been fouled to avoid retribution, for long enough to fill a whole page.

I wasn't in the mood to comment on the Cypriot financial crisis, or the vast swathes of the uneducated masses confusing Chechnya and Czechoslovakia (or thinking that The Brighton Pavillion is a Mosque)

Neither could I rouse enough bile to comment on why North Korea has stumbled down the list of 'things that people are talking about that involve the end of the world'

You see, this is why I don't do 'Current Affairs', it all comes from being so gorram  anachronistic I guess.
So I started looking through the back catalog of the Blog and seeing if there were any 'unfinished stories' or suchlike that grabbed me.  But there weren't.  I guess that it's just because it's Monday and the uphill struggle seems a little steeper than usual.

We all feel a bit Meh! occasionally, right?

What I did notice was that there were a few posts that stood out as having much lower than average number of hits - Now I know that this Blog is a bit hit and miss (Take today for instance).  But personally, I think some of these are OK.

I mean there's one post on the list that spawned the idea for the short-story that you can buy, with real cash-money, on Amazon, and that got less than 30 views!  You people are so fickle.  So, as I'm a second chances kind of guy, at least where pushing my juvenile claptrap out to an unwilling audience is concerned,  I present the six least read Blog posts that are any good... I've written posts that have had less hits than these, but in fairness they were pretty awful - I wouldn't ask you to read them...

But these, these are great... Well, They're OK... I say OK, the chances are your eyes won't fall out whilst you're actually reading them, Not fall out, not completely at least.

-oOo-

Let's start at the least worst:

With 30 page views, published back in December 2012 is - Something for the Weekend - Where I tell you about the day I spent working in a hairdressing salon:  Caution, starts with a dream sequence involving sturgeon and a wheelbarrow full of custard.

Just pipping it to the post marked 'Not quite as good' by one page view, also from December 2012 is - Pandas, the Eastern Scourge - Describing the enigma and possible evolutionary development of the Giant Panda.  This idea was developed into the Flash Fiction story 'Danao', as published to critical acclaim in February 2013.

With two less page views again is the confused engineering nightmare of - Maybe they explained it badly - A frank and forthright discussion on how the laws of physics can work against each other and we've all just accepted it since 1903 because we don't know any better.

Then we jump down the scale all the way to 22 page views, the oldest post in the list, from November 2012 and the first real post on the Blog - I'm a Bigot, You're a Bigot, We're ALL Bigots... - This attempts to describe, in an educational way, how bigotry can be a terrible, life changing thing.  To get the most from this Blog, you may need to know some of the short-codes that Starbucks use for their drinks, although... Nahh, con't worry about it.

We jump ahead to February 2013 for - Celebrity? She's a bit of a cult - A post where I display my complete ignorance of popularist celebrity culture, and delve into the past of one Kimberly Noel Kardashian and her ilk.

And right at the bottom, wallowing in the cesspit of ignored posts, was the very next day's post, racking up an almost unbelievable 20 page views, plucking at the very heartstrings of your ever-loving Bloggoteer, comes - My Interview with iBazinga magazine -  A pun and in-joke riddled travesty that details ficticious questions, asked by ficticious people, from actual places that the Blog has had hits from, which points you to other posts on the Blog... A bit of light Blog-a-ception for you there - But it does hold a link to the Chimpin Dandy's super-villain origin story, involving a smattering of telling lies to strippers to get free dances.

-oOo-

Hopefully I'm have magically become more creative tomorrow, or you could be lucky and something odd will happen to me between now and then.


P.S. Anyone else had trouble downloading the client for the free version of Star Wars: The Old Republic?  Thought I'd bang it on ready for playing it over the bank holiday weekend, but it's taken two days to download so far, it keeps stalling.  Hope this isn't a precursor to the quality of the game...

My Interview with iBazinga Magazine

A few weeks ago, I was approached by absolutely nobody, and asked if, as I was a rising star of the Internet, who regularly attracts double-figure numbers of page hits on his Blog, quite literally, almost every day, I would like to do an interview for a completely ficticious Technology Magazine called iBazinga.

At first I refused, partly because I am, by nature, a very private soul and do not like to talk about myself, but mostly it's because the magazine doesn't exist and it was just the voices in my head making me the offer, which is better than the normal 'Burn this, the duct-tape will quiet her filty noise' style advice I normally get from them.

So, on a rainy Wednesday, in the past, I didn't find myself in a suite on the 30th floor of the Park Lane Hilton, in London, talking to a made-up journalist about myself.

-oOo-

So, Mr Dandy, thank you for agreeing to this interview, I'm sure a lot of our readers would like to know a little bit about the man behind the T-Shirt with the amusing Pangolin motif.

Well, thank you Brian, may I call you Brian?

 
My name's actually Tracy...

Righty-ho, so, Brian, I'm glad that you asked me that, it's nice for me to finally get to set the record straight. I mean, there are people out there who think I'm just a megalomaniac with a God complex who somehow thinks that his opinions are more important than anyone else's.

 
I'm sure nobody thinks that, all of our readers who bothered to send questions in were generally very complimentary about your writing style, and didn't find it to be syrupy self-aggrandizement at all.

Ah, good, you say that people sent in questions? For me? How very lovely.

 
Yes indeed, we have one here from Michael Stibberly in Kuwait. 'Do you have a big family?'

Big? No, not really big as such, There's the Wife, Mrs Dandy, my Daughter, the MiniDandy - who has her own Blog, my Son, who has asked for his name to be witheld because it might impact his scrap metal and drive tarmacing business, my pigeon shattering Father and very occasionally the Ghost of my Dead Mother, who may, or may not, be scared of the Hoover. We've also got family who live on a little island in the Med and still more, just around the corner. Actually I guess it is a fairly sizeable brood.

 
Miss Sybil Von Daniken of Poole in Dorset writes 'You speak of GodS all the time, rather than God, the Saviour, The Father, The One True God... Did you know that you are going to Hell and will spend eternity in torment, pursued by Satan's imps with their constantly stabbing pitchforks?'

Nope, I think I'll be fine. I'm all about the whole Supreme Being idea, but whether that Being is the Judeo-Christian God, a Bowl of Spaghetti & Meatballs or a bunch of guys with oversized heads wearing a lovely tinfoil ensemble designed by some 'Space' Vivienne Westwood then that's OK with me. I mean, imagine the feeling when you get up to Heaven and there are as many Gods as there are people, and we've all got one each.

 
Marion D'la Plume D'ma Tante asks, 'We all know that you are something of an IT Guru, but have you ever done anything else?'

Funny you should ask that, I was talking to one of my ex customers only a few months back, I have spent time as a licensed Door Supervisor, a Fetish Model and a card-carrying Superhero - I'll leave it to your imagination as to exactly which one the person was a customer of. And I've recently also become a published Author.

 
A quick one from Simon Whatstandwell all the way from Rutherford, New Joisey. 'Do you really think that Pandas are the next big worry, greater than global warming, greater than Earth being hit by a comet, meterorite or alien spacecraft full of marauding, Oh, I don't know, flesh eating... Ermm.. Cats with spiky helmets?' - I'm sorry, I think that that question might have gotten away from the asker there a little bit!

That's fine Brian, it happens to me all the time! - Yes, I seriously believe that Pandas are the furry mammal equivalent of the Communist sleeper cell. At a pre-arranged time, they will rise up, take control, and subjugate mankind under their little part-formed thumbs. It'll be quick, bloody, and the cupcake shops with probably fall first. And just for completeness, I believe that all cats have spiky helmets.

 
Yes... Quite... Only a couple more questions, and then we can let you go. We received this one, written in crayon, which is very odd when you consider that it was sent by email, it is signed, but the signature is sadly illegible. Going by the address of the sender, it comes from Frankie.D'Souza@HouseOfLords.gov.uk and reads 'When you is growing up and stuff, who is it you wanna be, like, innit?'


Ah, little Frankie, I remember her well, Beautiful plumage... In recent times I have come to realise that the person I want to be when I grow up is me, but with a lot more cash, and some pet killer whales. But when I was but a young slip of a Dandy, and Chimping was the furthest thing from my mind, I wanted to be Martin Shaw off of Judge John Deed.

 
And finally, Cyril, Haha! Francoise Goebbels from the lovely province of Alberta in Canadiashire has asked the question that is on the tip of everyone's tongue, 'Dandy, how did you, mild mannered IT professional by day, pay as you go doppelganger and haddock worrier by night, become the Chimping Dandy.'

Brian, Brain, Brian... It's a well known fact that secret identities are secret for a reason, they protect the families and loved ones of the... erm... person who has decided to have a secret identity, for which I'm sure there is a proper noun. So, I have changed the names, crossed the 'I's and dotted the 'T's to make sure that the story is as safe as I can possibly make it. I can't be held responsible, well, for anything really, as I'm a bit infantile, but mostly I can't be held responsible for any personal harm that may befall you if you read.... The Origin of The Chimping Dandy.

 
Well, that was informative, thank you very much Mr Dandy, we'll be sure to let you know when the interview is published. The readers of iBazinga magazine thank you and hope you a long and happy Blogging experience.

-oOo-

And that's where the interview ended, I looked around and realised that I wasn't actually in a suite, on a non-existant floor of the tallest hotel in London, I was lying on the carpet, in the lounge, with a trickle of Irn Bru coming out of my nose and a very puzzled looking cat breathing its fishy breath into my mouth and licking my teeth.

Another normal day at Dandy Towers, I'm sure you'll agree. Enjoy your weekend, and if you do something exciting, don't forget to tell me about it - It could make you famous.


Yes, I realise you've seen all this stuff before, think of it as the Mid-Season Clip Show - If it's good enough for NBC then it's good enough for you lot.

Danny in the woods

Sorry about the lack of Bloggery yesterday chaps - I got all snowed under with work and the day ran away with me a bit.

Hope you enjoy the post below, another fanciful tale about a thing, that happened, this morning.  Told in the style of a sequel to a story that I wrote a while ago.

-oOo-

The old Landrover bounced over the uneven ground, its ancient leaf springs making some very concerning noises.

'How far Ranth?'

'I don't know, that survivalist guy we found said that we just had to follow the river and we'd trip over them, you know exactly as much as I do.'

They'd been following the river for hours, there was nothing indicating that a settlement was nearby, no smoke, no signs, no nothing.

'Do you think we'll find him there?'

'Ellie, I don't know, but it seems that this is the only settlement for miles, can't think where else he'd run to.'

Ranth was starting to get sick of Ellie's constant questions, She'd found him hanging from a tree, luckily by his wrists not his neck, about a week ago. He said that it'd all been a big misunderstanding with a group of outlaw survivors that he used to run with, she wasn't so sure that they hadn't just got sick of his incessant talking.

'Wait! What's that?' Ellie pointed into the trees, 'I saw something move!'

Ranth stopped the 4x4 and looked into the trees,

'Where?'

'Over there, by that big rock, it's a shambler, I know it!'

'I can't see anything.'

'Look, between the rock and that dead tree, you can just see its head.'

Ranth took the binoculars out of her pack and looked again, scanning the treeline for the rock,' I see it, ' She said, 'It's not a shambler, not any more at least.'

'What is it then?'

'It's a skull, on a stick.'

They looked at each other, Ellie paled, Ranth started the engine and turned the car towards the grim totem. The skull wasn't that old, and it looked as if the local wildlife had been helping themselves to whatever choice morsels they could find.

'Looks like we've found the settlement then,' Said Ellie,

'Unless someone's got very interesting ideas about garden furniture,' Replied Ranth, 'Whoever they are, one of them's a decent shot, blew the top of the head clean off,' She poked her fingers into the hole where the cranium used to be. 'We'll continue on foot, get your gear.'

They'd only been travelling for a few minutes when a disembodied female voice sounded through the trees.

'Stop where you are, put your hands in the air.'

'Do as she says,' Whispered Ranth, she raised her voice and shouted, 'We don't mean you any harm, we're looking for someone!'

A rustling of leaves above their heads made them look up, to be greeted by the sound of snapping twigs and the silhouette of someone making their way through the branches, towards the trunk of a huge Elm tree. They looked at each other again, and shrugged.

'Don't move, we have you covered!', said another, younger, voice from behind them.

The tree-creeper dropped to the ground and immediately drew a Desert Eagle handgun, that was obviously much too heavy for her. She was about thirteen years old, with matted blond hair and about six weeks worth of mud covering her face and arms.

'What do you want?' She growled, never taking her eyes off them.

'Like I said, we're looking for someone.'

'Who?'

'Well, I don't exactly know, but he stole something from us whilst we were asleep a couple of days ago and we think he came this way.'

'Nobody comes this way, not if they've got any sense at least, not since Danny came.'

'Danny?'

'Yeah, he lives in the woods, we hear him at night sometimes, stumbling around.'

'A Shambler?'

'No, he kills shamblers, that's where we get the skulls from.'

'The skulls?'

'We use them to mark our territory, the shamblers mostly stay away, I don't think they like their own dead.'

'Can you take us to your settlement, so we can ask about the man who stole our stuff?'

'Settlement?' She laughed, 'There's no settlement any more... Not since Danny came.'

'Well, where do you live?'

'Here,' replied the girl with a smile, 'In the trees, we don't bother Danny, he don't bother us.'

'Can we talk to Danny?'

Both of the children started to laugh, 'You can try, but he doesn't say much.'

'What do you mean?'

'He mostly just says his name, we think he might be simple, but we don't want to get close enough to find out, he's too big and funny looking - You can try if you like, he's in there somewhere,' She pointed into the forest.

'Come on,' Ranth turned to Ellie, 'Let's see if we can get some answers out of Danny.'

Picking up their packs they started off into the jungle, being careful not to make too much noise as they trod through the heavy undergrowth. they were starting to lose the light when they both stumbled and fell to the ground with a shout.

'What the?'

'I think we're getting close... What was the guy who stole the gear out of the Landrover wearing?'

'Erm... Brown leather jacket, cargo pants... I think.'

'Like these?' Ranth held up a scrap of brown leather and some beige canvas, both covered in blood.

'Exactly like that... Should we leave?'

'When we've got what we came for, it must be around here somewhere.'

'Seriously?'

'Do you have anything left to barter when we run out of diesel next?'

Ellie shook his head.

'Well then.'

They started to poke at the grass, avoiding the bloody mess that had once been the thief, trying to find the box of trinkets that was their only remaining currency in the world.

'Did you hear that?'

'Don't tell me, a shambler?'

'No, there's someone talking, shamblers don't talk... Do they?'

'Nope, that's the one thing I like about them,' Ranth gritted her teeth as she lifted the remains to search underneath.

'Maybe it's the kids, it sounds weird though, too deep.'

'Ha!' Shouted Ranth, as she held aloft a gore spattered box, 'Right, let's go!'

They both stood and started to make their way back to the path, when there was the noise of splintering wood from behind them. Slowly, they both turned, to be confronted by the oddest thing that either of them had ever seen.

'You can see a panda, right?' Ellie breathed.

'Unfortunately, yes...'

'There's good eating on a panda, probably,' Ellie slowly reached for his gun.

'Maybe it's Danny's pet,' replied Ranth, 'I think he'd be upset if we shot it and ate it...'

'Danao.'

'What?'

'I didn't say anything.' Ranth whispered, pointing at the panda and backing away,

'But, panda's don't...'

'Danao!'

'That panda spoke!'

'Back away, very slowly.'

'What's he saying?'

'I don't know, I don't speak panda, but it sounds awfully like Danny to me.'

'He wants Danny!', exclaimed Ellie, 'Maybe you were right about him being his pet.'

'No, I think this is Danny, who's been killing all the shamblers, and scaring off the settlers.'

'DA-NAO!' Screamed the panda, dropping his head and charging towards them.

'RUN!' Yelled Ranth, 'Make for the Landrover!'

They both ran until they could feel their hearts beating in their mouths, but the panda was still gaining.

'I can't... I can't run any... any more...', choked Ellie.

'Just a few.. more... yards...'

When the explosion came, it deafened the pair of them and they fell to the floor. They looked up to see the little girl, sat on the ground, with the smoking gun on the ground behind her.

'Owwww,' The girl said, massaging her swollen wrists, 'That's a big bear!'

'That's not a bear Baby, that's a panda.' Remarked Ellie, who had suddenly got his breath back.

'Whatever it is, I goddit - Right through the heart!'

'You did, nice shot, OK - let's get out of here, you kids coming with us?'

'I don't know... It's nice here.'

'I've got a feeling that the shamblers won't be leaving you alone as much now, think they might have been scared of this guy all along.'

'OK then,' said the girl, 'C'mon Mal!'

A little boy, no more than eight years old, climbed out from behind a thornbush, walked over to the panda, kicked it and started off down the path towards the car.

'Let's try and find some food, but not anywhere around here,' Smiled Ranth, as she got into the Landrover and slammed the door.

Far behind them, on the forest path, the panda slowly rose to his feet, stared at the receding car and wailed, 'Daaaa.... Naooooo?'


And in this instance, my wife lost her purse, which had my petrol money in it, and we all turned the house upside down looking for it.

Pandas, the Eastern Scourge

Pandas, by which I specifically mean the Giant Panda or Ailuropoda melanoleuca for the taxonomically inclined amongst us. What are they all about?

I mean, seriously - What the flip is going on with them? - A decent sized Panda weighs about the same as a small Grizzly Bear (about 25st) they've got huge teeth and claws, big enough to tear you limb from limb in a heartbeat, Yet they seem to be the sweetest natured animals on the face of the Earth - I tried (for research purposes - Try typing Angry Panda into Google, it just feels weird) to find instances of angry pandas - And could pretty much only find evidence of one pretty grumpy one called Gu-Gu who bit three people who got into his enclosure, one of whom bit him back! - I'm guessing he was only upset because he was named after the first words the zookeeper's baby said.

There's a video on YouTube that comes up when you search, I wouldn't bother watching it, it's pretty much a Panda barking and waving his paws at a couple of other Pandas who got too close to his pile of bamboo. If that's what goes for an 'Angry Panda' nowadays, I think they need to change the title to 'Somewhat miffed Panda coughs politley and points out what is obviously his lunch'.

Then you've got the whole bamboo thing! Pandas have huge carnivore teeth, rippey, bitey, tearey teeth for eating goats and yetis and other things you'd find in the mountains... But no, they eat bamboo which has less nutrient qualities than celery and you need a completely different set of teeth to eat it successfully. They have to eat about a tenth of their bodyweight a day, in bamboo, to get anything out of it - Where's the sense in that?

Luckily they're not completely stupid they do supplement their diet in the wild with the occasional bit of carrion and.. erm... grass and bees and stuff probably, but still, they should ideally be hiding in trees, pretending to be.. erm.. [Insert name of huge black and white thing you'd expect to find in a tree and wouldn't seem strange at all] by the side of secluded trails, dropping down on unsuspecting sherpas and eating their brains with a spoon. (Oh... Zombie Panda.. File that under 'Next Flash Fiction story ideas')

You know, in captivity, they feed them cupcakes? - Not all the time I grant you, but all the same, feeding the cutest animal in the world with the cutest food item in the world - It's amazing that anyone accidentally seeing this spectacle doesn't just explode by achieving critical cuteness. You can picture the scene -

[Chinese] 'And here ladies and gentlemen, you will see Mung Mung being fed blueberry muffins by my lovely assistant Doof Lee Chung' (Noises off: series of small, wet explosions from the direction of the crowd) 'No! it's happening again! put down the cupcakes Lee Chung... Put down the Aaarggghh!' [/Chinese] Fade to black

Oh yes, another thing that I didn't know before today... They've got thumbs (kinda) and if evolution goes their way, then it won't be long, in a geological sense, before they start to use them... I don't mean hitch-hiking their way out of the bamboo line and going for a trot down Peking High Street, I mean fashioning bamboo into swords and shields and inventing coconut powered lasers and suchlike.

And Kung-Fu Panda is a very real concern, you know how they let gorillas watch TV in the zoos to keep them entertained? What if they do the same with Pandas - They maybe already do... One day, Ping Chin Min the Panda wrangler decides that it's Bloop Bloop's birthday and he could do with a bit of cheering up, sticks on Disney's finest and before you know it, you've got 350lbs of black and white fury spinning around it's enclosure flinging cupcakes at people and playing Tenacious D guitar solos! Don't laugh guys, it's stuff like this that keeps me awake at night.

It wouldn't take much for an evil genius to make an unstoppable army of Pandas would it?

I for one, welcome our monochrome overlords with open arms. Now... Where's that cupcake recipe?