Keep on your toes, Justin’s all over the shop this week - and we know what he’s like. He’s always ready to buy a round or two of drinks or a bottle or three of fizz but beneath that affable old duffer image beats the heart of a robber baron.
His plans for the Berrow Farm site set The Bull abuzz and put Kirsty in battle mode, while his visit to Bridge Farm leaves Pat and Tony flabbergasted.
Lily - as Pip’s self appointed wingwoman - has Toby confused, and a surprise entry for the single wicket competition shakes things up.
There are new faces at Home Farm, a visitor for Pip and a lack of luck for Roy, while Justin’s search for his new assistant continues.
Forgot to add thanks to maggiesaes from Sue’s Mustardland.
You’re just doing this to depress us, aren’t you, Janie: and isn’t spreading alarm and despondency during times of heightened national security a crime of some kind?
Ach, ignore me - your efforts are, in fact, greatly appreciated. Ta. Gx
Oh God! Not more ruddy Justin. Odd’s on he’ll have that old relic with him, too.
Have you heard? His latest wheeze to annoy the locals. Is to open up a Pigs-R-Us Theme Park, complete with 3D Sensoronic Smells.
He soon discovers that he can’t set The Bull abuzz, even if he installs 2 cwt of bee-hives into it. Not with Ambridges answer to Crossroads’ Benny and his missus running the place. But at least it explains Kirsty’s completely incongruous and very sudden interest in SSSI’s, The Grundy’s and other assorted wildlife.
The single-wicket competition achieves new heights of stupidity as the only contestants in the final are two females.
One an incredibly dense school-child and the second a recent Scottish blow-in who because she had Sri-lankan Grand-parents, has, the writers would have you believe, inherited Sri-lankan cricketing prowess.
Pip’s visitor at Home Farm, proves to be Toby Capone. Still trying to boot-leg gin. Whilst Roy fails to charm Elizabeth into going to a pop-festival with him.
Lilian, meanwhile is busy hiring Anthea Jennings, as Justin’s new assistant.
I wouldn’t mind Anthea coming back. She sounded like a right pain in the arse. I’d love to hear her waspish comments about some of the inhabitants of Ambridge. And I’d like to hear her and Maurice Horton together. He said he admired her. She’s married, but that could change.
OK, Janie, our friendship possibly ends here - where the hell is the ‘raccoon’ emoji when you need one, eh? Tsk that Feral, doesn’t take contingencies into account at all, shocking I call it…
Anthea was a grossly overwritten, overacted grotesque and I can assure you that had any temp agency supplied me with anything like her, she would have been out of the building inside three hours and the agency we used would have been changed.
Well, Gus, whatever fibre I might be lacking, take courage from this: Heidi just tonight has patrolled our northern border, to repel the (giant) raccoon, the western border to chase off Paco the next-door cat and the eastern border to see off the border collie next door, sending him tail between legs into his house after after a hissing stand-off (luckily with a fence between them).
Back to Anthea: Lilian was being such an awful pratt to Brenda (not that I was in the least bit sorry for her but that doesn’t make it all right) so I relished Lilian getting a bit of back of what she had dealt out to Brenda.
Where I come from, we believe in retribution. Aaar …
Particularly if one happens to be a small black cat called Heidi with a very firm notion of boundaries, I see (whatever that emoji claims to be, it in fact represents an ‘innocent’ whistle)
Ain’t that the truth. Irritating great lummox. I found it almost as hard to believe that she was in fact a raving beauty as I do in Pip’s femme fatale qualities.
(whatever that emoji claims to be, it in fact represents an ‘innocent’ whistle)