After quite a build-up to the season there’s near-disaster on the cricket pitch for Rochelle until Rex comes to the rescue, while Lynda has a point to prove and there’s mayhem at the abattoir.
Thanks to LadySusan of The Ambridge Reporter
After quite a build-up to the season there’s near-disaster on the cricket pitch for Rochelle until Rex comes to the rescue, while Lynda has a point to prove and there’s mayhem at the abattoir.
Thanks to LadySusan of The Ambridge Reporter
As mayhem goes, it was pathetic. Somebody brandished a broken bottle, and two people were handcuffed, one of them apparently in a painful way. Oh, and several people chanted “It’s time to listen.”
Amateurs!
Poison. You forgot the poison.
And to make that threat all they needed to do was ring up and know enough about the place to be plausible – which would in any case hold more water than claiming to have done it while in a dining-room without access to a production line full of large blokes with heavy and/or sharp implements, no sense of humour and a strong disinclination to be handcuffed to anything.
Did we gather when, exactly, these clowns claimed to have poisoned something? After they stormed the dining-room and locked themselves into it? Or was it some time between getting in and rushing to the dining-room? Unobserved by any of the workforce mentioned above?
Obviously they were running on Revolutionary Time, in which the raising of consciousness is complete and the army of the proletariat backs your every action, particularly the ones that raise the price of food.
(Wot, not even an unauthorised beaver release? I am disappointed.)
I think we were meant to infer that there were more of them than just Saskia and Carl, busy downstairs doing the contaminating while Saskia shot her gob off in the dining room.
Anyway, it was , as that Sparrer says, all very disappointing. No bloodshed, not even a hearty punch in the face for Helen.