Professor Humperdink III

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The Motoring Club

10 H.P. Swift with a “foursome” coupe

18 H.P. Morris “Isis” six cylinder tourer

11.9 H.P. Morris-Cowley four-seater

Armstrong Siddeley 15 H.P. six cylinder open touring car

9 H.P. standard saloon with “sunshine” sliding top

9 H.P Fiat “Royal” Coupe

A 10/60 Vauxhall fitted with a sports body

4 ½ litre Bentley with a sporting four-seater body

Riley six-cylinder 14 H.P. fabric saloon

Alfa-Romeo with sporting two-seater body

Marquette two-seater

Singer “Junior” two-seater

Just as Bev brings us a crate of vintage Aberlour and a new barrel of real ale, there’s a tremendous roaring of motor cars pulling up outside the Fox and Hounds and the pub fills up with young motorists who all buy beer and talk loudly and enthusiastically about their cars.  I say to Bev that they look like good customers, Bev explains that they are the local motoring club, she says that they are good customers but they drive from pub to pub, or have their chauffeurs drive them, and only stay long enough for one or two quick drinks before leaving for the next pub.

Juan volunteers to disable the cars, and the chauffeurs, so the motorists can’t leave. Bev says that doing that would not be entirely ethical, but Juan says that, if the cars don’t work, the motorists won’t be able to drink and drive, which is dangerous, so he is keeping them safe as well as prolonging their visit to this wonderful pub, so they will be happy, and so will Bev.

I agree with Juan and point out that the cars will be fixed sooner or later, which means the motorists will stay long enough to spend a lot of money in the bar but they won’t be stuck here forever and, as a bonus, local mechanics will get work. Fatty says that, if the cars can’t be fixed, the motorists will buy new ones, motorists enjoy buying new cars and people like selling them new cars, so that is good for the economy as well. Despite our enthusiasm, Bev is doubtful and tells Juan not to interfere with the cars. Juan sulks. I give him a bottle of Aberlour and he cheers up, and everything works out well anyway because of Fatty.

Fatty isn't violent any more, with his colossal size and strength, he can hurt people badly without meaning to, and he has done, and sometimes he means to, but, apart from sporting engagements and professional commitments, Fatty lives a peaceful life so, when a few of the young motorists start making unkind personal comments, he ignores them. Also, with his thirteenth panko-breaded goat cheese burger with roasted peppers, relish, onion rings, coleslaw and chunky chips to tuck into, he isn’t interested in listening to or responding to rude comments.

Leaving the service, he became a sumo wrestler, he enjoyed the exercise and the fighting but eventually, bored with the bland diet of rice and stewed vegetables, and, remembering that French cuisine is the best in the world, Fatty joined the French Foreign Legion. Legionnaires do a tremendous amount of exercise and really appreciate their food. Fatty had a wonderful time. Nowadays he exercises by doing various sports such as bare-fist boxing, full contact karate, kickboxing, knife-fighting, weightlifting, rugby and Gaelic football, all the heavy Highland games and teaching lethal unarmed combat methods to elite soldiers but, as I said, Fatty is peaceful and the motorists who are calling Fatty a fat, flabby, greedy pig, have nothing to worry about.

Bev is concerned that Fatty might take offence at the unpleasant comments but I tell her that Fatty is peaceful and good natured and she shouldn’t worry because he would not hurt any of the motorists. Also, the motorists are wrong when they say he looks like a giant, greedy, flabby pig. It is true that Fatty might look and behave in a piggish way and he is a giant and he does like good food a lot, or any food, but he isn’t flabby. Fatty says that exercise makes him hungry and, when he is hungry, food tastes better, but, discovering as a young man that he was naturally idle, with no willpower and an apathetic attitude, he didn't exercise, so he was never really hungry enough to justify the amount of food he was eating. This made him feel guilty as he felt that he was consuming the precious resources of the planet without really enjoying himself as much as he could, and it was expensive, so he joined the army.  

The army fed him for free and made him do lots of exercise which did improve his appetite. Happy with these results and, to get even more exercise and improve his appetite still further, Fatty joined the Special Services. He did a tremendous amount of exercise, served in a few wars and ate lots of interesting things with great relish and appreciation;  one morning in a jungle, after single-handedly slaughtering a platoon of heavily armed enemy commandos and, needing a mid-morning snack, he caught a couple of cobras, which were very tasty, he realised that he was definitely on the right track regarding exercise and consequent appetite improvement but that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with killing snakes.

However, while telling Bev this, I didn’t notice Fatty leave his meal and go out of the pub. I did notice, we all noticed, when there was a loud thumping as something is shoved against the pub door. Some of the motorists try to open the door but whatever is on the other side is too heavy to move. I suspect that it is a car, my suspicions are confirmed when there are further thuds as cars are rolled up to the windows so nobody can get out. Then there is a lot of smashing noises outside the pub and a lot of people shouting in the pub, and trying to get out of the pub to see what is happening.

After a few minutes, there is a scraping sound as the car blocking the door is pulled away, and Fatty walks in, rubbing his hands and asking Bev or another ten cheeseburgers, with extra chips. All the motorists rush outside and there is a general wailing.

We are a bit embarrassed about the cars but we are happy that Fatty, despite being insulted by the motorists, restrained himself and didn’t hurt anyone, to celebrate, we order ale for everyone who needs it, and all the motorists need it as they are very upset, and another crate of Aberlour for us then, cheering and singing and drinking toast after toast to the young motorists and their nice cars and shouting “honk honk!”, we knock over the motorists as we pretend to be driving cars around the pub, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink’s Diary