I arrive in London for Christmas and decamp at Dr Whipsnade’s residence. During an afternoon stroll in Regents Park, I see a man in dark glasses and a grey fur coat, feeding the waterfowl what appear to be pickled onions. On nearing I recognise him as my old circus chum, Bernie Anus, and greet him affectionately:
“Bernie, you enormous bumhole!” I exclaim. “What the devil are you feeding those ducks?”
“Nothing you would you enjoy, you hairy-arsed hulk!” he replies amiably.
After this exchange of pleasantries, we repair to a nearby pub to renew our old camaraderie.
“Bartender!” I cry. “A tankard of your finest ale for my friend, Mr Anus! I will have a glass of pineapple juice, if you please.”
I ask Bernie how the clowning business is going.
“It’s mostly children’s birthday parties these days,” he says. “It pays OK when I’m not being sued.”
“Who on God’s Green Earth would want to sue you, Bernie?”
“Last summer I had a birthday gig in The Dorchester,” he explains. “When I walked into the lobby in my costume, a little dog jumped on my shoe and tried to nip my ankle. So I removed a can of spray-paint from my jacket and dyed its head green. It ran off whimpering.”
“That taught the little varmint!” I snigger. “What happened then?”
“Nothing at first. I went to the kiddies’ party and did my act to huge acclaim. But when I was leaving I got collared by a couple of policemen. It turned out that the dog belonged to some snooty old cow with a title. Lady Magnolia Handjob, wife of the Earl of Wank, or words to that effect. They took me in for questioning but released me without charge.”
“I should hope so! I couldn’t imagine a clearer case of self-defence.”
“Indeed. But soon afterwards I got a summons to appear in court to answer a civil suit. Lady Magnolia was seeking damages for the physical and emotional pain inflicted on her precious mutt, as well as the cost of cleaning its head.”
“Did you abscond? I would have given you sanctuary in the Congo if you’d asked.”
“Oh I turned up all right, and in my business suit too. His Worship took one look at me and said ‘You’re not giving evidence in my court wearing that ridiculous costume!’. So I looked him up and down and replied: ‘You’re a fine one to talk!’. He fined me for contempt and I had to pay Her Ladyship five thousand as well.”
“What can I say, Bernie? The law is a rectal probe for the rich and powerful to use on the hapless peons they oppress. May this Lady Magnolia and her vile pooch fall into a barrel of monkey piss.”
“Thank you, GB. I would have called you as a character witness if you’d been here.”
That evening, I reflect on another case in which a wealthy woman has bent the law to her will. Jennifer Lopez has persuaded a judge to issue an injunction preventing her former husband from releasing a tape of their marital frolics. It seems that he and Ms Lopez enacted a spanking scene when relations between them were still cordial.
Yet the ruling did not stop her ex-husband from publishing a transcript of the dialogue, mere gossip not yet being illegal. As luck would have it, a reliable source has provided me with a copy of this document. In normal circumstances, I would respect the intellectual property rights of Ms Lopez and keep it to myself. But Christmas is a time to share, as well as to redress the inherent biases of the legal system. A short excerpt is given below.
J-Lo: Oh, I’m such a naughty girl!
J-Lo: Don’t stop until I’ve learned my lesson!
J-Lo: Make my big ass red!
J-Lo: Smack me hard, Dr Badfinger!
I like the ‘Dr Badfinger’ line best. It shows imagination.
The Japing Ape wishes his readers a Merry Christmas and will return at the start of the New Year.
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