Tom and Pip are going to be an item?
Fanta, there are some thoughts that are best kept to oneself, I feel. Particularly at around this time on a Sunday.
I hear banjo music.
Probably wrong about this, and many other things, but do they not merely have great-grandparents in common? Not that bad a reproductive risk.
< contemplates chopping off own fingers for even typing the thought that the ghastly pair might spawn >
Franlky, I blame The Fish.
Gosh, I hope not! Pip’nTom that is.
While I relish Pip humbling herself, Tom forgave her far too quickly and the second disappointment was that she didn’t (perhaps because she doesn’t know) mention Tom being equally deceitful over the non-organic pig food which cost the pig herd their organic status. A massive row with finger-pointing and an infuriated Tom spreading Pip’s disgrace all over the place would have been so much more satisfying.
Pip really (or wee-ooy) does seem to be made of Teflon.
Some composite of teflon and wood, Janie. As an actor, La Badger would make a marvellous human sacrifice.
Sounds right to me.
Tony and David are first cousins, so Tom and Pip are 2nd cousins.
But I believe there is a particularly strong recessive gene in the Archer family. Resulting in a high tendency towards village idiocy within the family.
Or Tom and Toerag?
I too hope that it doesn’t happen, but I am remembering the tearful relief with which Pip greeted Tom as her saviour during Amageddon.
Let’s see: she was born on 17.2.1993, and he was born on 25.2.1981, so going by her mother and her aunt Elizabeth he’s about the right age for her…
But look at the potentially good side of it.
It would be a good bet that eventually, Tom would put Toby’s lights out for him.
Very medieval, marrying the neighbour to secure boundaries. A very good idea in Pip’s case.
I expect Pig is about to become one of Jazzer’s Girls…
And both children… CHILDREN? Of February.
That would suit the deadbeat scriptwriters, who would no doubt think it appropriate to marry them off on Valentines Day.
Conveniently that’s nine months away. Now what else can they script to happen next February.
Plunk, plunk, plunk, all the bits fall into place.
We are the Dopeys. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.