When GOF eventually kicks his own Bucket and passes through the heavenly S-bend portal into Mother Nature’s Organic Matter Recycling Factory, he should be remembered for the seventy-three innovative proposals which he published on this blog in order to make the world a better place.
That not a single one of them has been implemented or even taken a little bit seriously is more a reflection of Public Service inertia rather than any inherent deficiencies in his concepts and designs.
When, in the year 2092, he is reincarnated as Mao Tse Gof and rules the planet as the ever-so-slightly benevolent supreme commander of the world’s single unified country, the Federated United Kingdom of Independent Territories, all 73 proposals will be implemented immediately.
Meanwhile he has to suffer as a martyr to his numerous causes, and you have to suffer reading about it. It’s a cruel world.
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Traffic Squad Officer Sergeant Engelbert Crankshaft;
“Good afternoon Sir. Would you happen to be the owner of this centre-parked truck bearing the number plate GOF- 4PM ?
GOF; “Yes Officer, is there some sort of problem?”
Crankshaft; “Well indeed there is Mr GOF. The traffic jam you see backed-up into the distance extends for 24 kilometres along the Captain Cook highway.”
GOF; “Dear oh dear, I wonder what sort of obstruction could have caused that to happen.”
Crankshaft; “Well it appears to be somewhat related to the four metre long cannon barrel sticking all the way out of the back of your truck Sir, which is blocking the entire carriageway and causing many drivers and pedestrians to both poo their pants and become extremely angry at what you have done. Cannon barrels have that effect on people you know.”
GOF; “Oh $#%&! Well I do apologise. I thought I’d fixed the
auto-retraction mechanism yesterday. I’ll winch it back in immediately and drive back home to fix it.”
Crankshaft; “Just a small question first Mr GOF if you don’t mind; Why do you have a twelve-foot long retractile armament mounted beneath your vehicle?”
GOF; “It’s not actually an armament Officer, it’s just a length of water pipe that I carry around in case I might need it on the farm to repair the water reticulation systems into my ostrich paddocks.”
Crankshaft; “So if it’s only a water pipe, why then has my explosives-detector dog suddenly gone totally apeshit and shoved his snout all the way up the end of your “water” pipe?”
GOF; “Oh that! Easily explained. You see, my dog at home likes chasing things, so occasionally I put a charge of gunpowder or dynamite in the end of the
cannon barrel water pipe……. hehe…….you almost caught me out there Officer…… to fire coconuts down into the paddock for him to chase.”
Crankshaft; “Is there anything else that you fire out of your cannon slash water pipe Mr GOF?”
GOF; “Well, truth be told, in the early nineties I bought a shipping container load of replica coconuts from Iraq because I ran out of fresh local ones……they were very cheap, and the funny thing was that they actually look a little bit like bombs or cannonballs, but the Bill of Lading assured me that they were replica coconuts.”
Crankshaft; “And do you still entertain your dog by firing these Iraqi faux coconuts down into your paddock?”
GOF; “No, I stopped doing that a while back because the dog started to glow in the dark and he was passing iridescent green stools. The neighbours weren’t happy either because he got their purebred bitch pregnant and she gave birth to a litter of puppies that had two tails where the ears should be, and an ear where……..oh it was a terrible business……you know how difficult it can be to clean out dog ears.
Crankshaft; Mr GOF, I am not appreciating your levity and deception. I require you to answer all my questions truthfully.
It appears to have escaped your notice that you are in……let me put it in plain language for you……quite deep shit, because I could not help but notice that there are 59 deep notches filed into the barrel of whatever you’d like to call it.
This may well be a coincidence, but as you are probably aware, during the last two months we have recovered precisely 59 unexplained radioactive car wrecks from grass verges adjacent to highways in the local district.
I am beginning to suspect that you might possibly have had something to do with these motoring mishaps.
Please retract your “water pipe” so that traffic can start moving again, then accompany me back to the station for additional questioning. Unfortunately I am required to handcuff you, but first Mr GOF, please bring me the book which you have been attempting to hide under the driver’s seat of your truck.
GOF; “Oh yes, The Bible in Swahili.”
Crankshaft; No, Mr GOF, not that one……the other larger coffee-table style publication;
“GOF’s Illustrated Manual for Exterminating Tailgaters.”
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