GUPPY!
takes you back doesn't it? the smell of sawdust and resin, splitsecond glimpses of Geoffory, hogan fumbling under the desk after a Clandillon flashback, marvellous!
Think again my friends, all was not as it seemed.
CGSFB was famously steered by the steady captainship of 'slim' Jim Ronceford, a man of integrity and iron will, an old-school AV of the highest order. Beneath him were the loyalists, the hornet, timish, smalltimish, fielder and so on. Between them they kept the Holcombe flag flying!
However, there was a sinister stench of unrest.
It all started with Atherton's (Scudder's) 'accident'. Some say it was say it wasn't his fault and i would believe them, but they don't know the half of it.
Not many of you know that Athers died on that suburban hilltop and never lifted a bat again. His place on the squared circle was taken by televison funnyman Leslie Crowther from the hit show 'Come on Down!' to avoid a state of national panic.
I shall tell you all here and now that it was not 'senna driving' that polished off the Scud, it was a bomb. The same style of bomb that was found in the Stewbot's wicket. Who was responsible. Do i have to tell you? FLETCH!
Many strange events happened, some of which i am hazy with my recollection, some i am too horrified to give you the details. However the rebellion uprising forced Ronceford's 'resignataion'. Bodge, Le Franc, Gardener and St-John, they all had their palms sullied by the blood of his dismissal. We tried our best to supress the coup. We planted disorientating signs, we tried to barracade 'les fumeurs' in their den of vice, but nothing would work? What was stopping us? Pontoon (Field) that's who! Enraged by the wet paint, he set about getting as many of us over to Fletch as possible! Baz T went first, Matty G followed, Shylock Hyland and Knee high Nye were only too glad to sign up after enduring a horrid childhood having to dance for crusts and sell special favours for attention.
We stood fast though. We stood fast. Under UTAF, our own form of early militant AVism, we would not give in to the dirtbags.
And what is the point of this story? I shall tell you.
Whilst V was pulling the wood over the nations eyeballs, smashing the cobblers for sixes, Fletch was sniffing around the old CGSFB patch searching for new blood to keep alive the evil V. You see, Vaughno can't get by on pernod, milk and gin anymore, now he needs pure virgin's blood to stop himself from turning dead.
We need help, can anyone give advice for the next steps? Can anyone refresh my memory and fill in the gaps between Atherton's crash and The Proi-st CGSFB revolution?