Wit on Wednesday: What Sane People Say

Davina Mispell is the... who?!? (part 1)
While out walking his dog early one morning, a superstar encounters a stranger

Follower:            Hey, oh my God! You’re her, aren’t you?
Davina Mispell:                Yes, probably. Yes, you’re right I have been on telly. So come on then, who do you think I am then, but I warn you now I won’t be too happy if I’ve mistaken for Arnie Withercom or Marcel Patcher as the latter, in case you hadn’t heard has just had a funeral.... HERS!
Follower:            No, I mean you’re her!
Davina Mispell:                Yes, well that’s not really helping to clarify matters, is it? As an example of successful communication it doesn’t actually fit the bill, does it? That’s like saying, that blade of grass there is a thing while looking at and pointing to a cloud. So if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy...
Follower:            No I mean... sorry but it’s just... Oh forgive me my lord, I mean... oh! I guess your holiness the correct address is my lady. (Falling to his knees and bowing his head)

Davina Mispell:                Ah. I think I see your problem. You’re basically a mentally deranged person that I should of course take pity on and call for an ambulance but unfortunately for you I don’t have time, a phone and we’re in the middle of nowhere so you’re just going to have to pull yourself together just for a while and head in that direction where there is a village and where I’m sure someone will help you communicate via the very real means of a telephone to get the appropriate level of mental health care you need. I’m just not trained and not cut out for this though. So be a good man and head that way while I continue on my way in the opposite direction and we’ll say no more about it.
Follower:            But, I don’t understand? I will of course do as you ask but what’s the message I need to pass on?

Davina Mispell:                                Er... ok. Errrm. Let’s see then shall we? How about Davina sent you and that you, (that’s you) received a message to tell everyone that I need help from a mental health team.
Follower:            Davina! Davina says, my lady. Is that right?
Davina Mispell:                Yes, that’s right, now off you go.
Follower:            You mean it’s all true then. This is wonderful. Who would have believed...
Davina Mispell:                Yes quite. Who would have believed? But it’s alright now so... off you go. No time to loose etc.
Follower:            No, no, quite, yes, but... but... can you just tell me one thing as I go.
Davina Mispell:                                (sigh) I’ll try but I warn you I am running out of patience now. What is it and this is your last chance ok, because I have work to do.
Follower:            Righto. I just wanted to ask if you are in touch with Davina right now is all?
Davina Mispell:                Of course I am. I am Davina.
Follower:            I don’t understand.
Davina Mispell:                                Why doesn’t that surprise me?
Follower:            I mean, have you changed your name since you came back?
Davina Mispell:                Since I’ve come back? Look let’s not even go there. Changed my name from what exactly because I have to admit I am actually mildly curious now as to who you think I am.
Follower:            Why, the chosen one, of course.
Davina Mispell:                Oh brilliant! I mean, just brilliant. Perfect in fact. ‘Cos now I can actually say I’ve heard it all. And if this isn’t proof of how screwed up this country is then I don’t know what is! I mean really. I mean, what do you think this is ‘Life of Brian’?
Follower:            I’m sorry, my lord?
Davina Mispell:                Monty Python film, a fiction but nonetheless a classic in comedy. Oh I get it... oh very good. Ok where’s the camera then. This is just a set up from that bastard (sound fx including 1920s car claxon, whistles and a doorbell etc) Oh ha ha, you really had me going too, you total wanker. Come on, the games up you can come out now.
Follower:            Sorry, my lady?
Davina Mispell:                The camera crew, the sound technician and that arsehole director who I never liked anyway. Trust me you haven’t heard the end of this and when I get back to my agent...
(Davina starts looking in the bushes and undergrowth for a film crew)
Follower:            Are you feeling alright my lady? There is no one here but us my lord. At least not unless you can see an angel or two, but I can’t.
Davina Mispell:                                Right. That’s enough. You’ve had your fun, now stop! Just Stop. And stop urm... this verbal fornication and calling me ‘my lady’ all the time as this is serious now and I mean deadly serious. I am not the messiah as you well know, I was never call Jesus, I am never going to be called Jesus – I’m not even the right gender to be Jesus and I am never likely to ever to be anything like a messiah because... because I swear too much for one thing. And... hang on... what am I doing!! I am actually trying to justify myself and prove I am not the ficking messiah! My name is Davina actually. Always has been since my parents decided to start my endless and torturous career by giving back problems by dropping me in the font at my christening.
Follower:            As you said yourself, “To err is human, to forgive devine, Davina.”
Davina Mispell:  Well there you go, because actually I never have said that and whatever idiot did say it deserves shooting if this is the result. You see facts. You lack facts.
Follower:            But one doesn’t need facts when one believes.
Davina Mispell:  Right that’s it. The camera’s on you isn’t it? Fucking wanker. It’s you, isn’t it? Go fetch Tosvik! The camera... oh for fuck’s sake, come on Tosvik, you’ve done it before, don’t let me down now... Come here...
Follower:            My lady?
Davina Mispell:                It’s one of those pin hole cameras and I bet Stephanony Lauretta Pry gave it to you. Just you wait til I see my solicitor! Tosvik! Well fine, so much for man’s best friend then... I knew I should have preserved with trying to train the cat. Ok then, I’m not normally a violent woman, but if that’s what it takes to prove I’m right these days... ‘cos I’ve just about had enough now...
Follower:            (Trying to run away) No! Please God... she’s gone mad. Your daughter’s has gone mad! Help her.... Fucking hell...! Help ME!
Davina Mispell:                Yep you’re right I’m mad and you’re perfectly sane. Now where is that camera or do I have to use physical violence to beat the fucking truth out of you...?

Whimsical Wednesday: WildeHeads' Archives

From the miscellaneous sketches of 

'What Sane People Say'

Itchy - that urge

Man: No, no, please don’t show me you amassed collection of insect bites. I can plainly see half of them already.

Woman: But you haven’t seen the best one yet... it’s why I’m limping you know as my whole 

leg is swollen in reaction.

Man: Yes, it’s alright, I will take your word for it, you don’t have to... oh you do have to lift 

your skirt to show me it seems.

Woman: Well don’t you find it in the least bit fascinating? I mean have you ever seen I reaction like this? I thought horsefly stings were bad but this isn’t from one of them.

Man: I just know I’m going to regret asking this, but why? What happens with them?

Woman: Oh they are spectacular as they become huge blisters full of watery pus the size of a

golf ball which I then burst, let it dry out and only then protect it with a plaster.

Man: Then WHY don’t you spray yourself with insect repellent or buy antihistamines to 

prevent these things happening???

Woman: Because you told me I should save my money for important things, so I am.

Man: (To himself) I knew it was my fault somehow, just hadn’t worked out how.

Woman: Sorry? What was that? You were muttering again.

Man: I meant you should stop spending money on girlie guff like make-up as I love you 

just the way you are except of course not er... ill or injured. The point is you should not economise on essential health remedies!

Woman: But I haven’t stinted on those. I bought some itch relief cream.

Man: (To himself) Great another turn off.

Woman: You’re mumbling again.

Man: I said great.

Woman: And... what else did your little brain stupidly entice your voice box to add to that, albeit incoherently?

Man: I muttered, if you must know that it was a turn off because I don’t like the smell of those creams.

Woman: Not a lot I can do about that. I would have bought calamine lotion if I could have 

found any but it leaves a powdery pink residue as I recall for smaller pox marks caused by chicken pox when I was a child, so unless you’re turned on by that...?

Man: No stop... pleeease, because what I really can’t fathom is why you don’t invest in the preventative measure to dissuade the little blighters from biting you in the first place? I mean, wouldn’t that be more... well... er... sensible?

Woman: Meaning?

Man: I am not trying to be patronising, I am just trying to help.

Woman: Of course you are, dear. Bless your fluffy little idiotic socks. I do know the difference between patronising and helpful you see. That phraseology of mine was deliberately patronising. And yes, I do think your socks are idiotic when they have ‘catch me if you can’ embroidered on them on a man who couldn’t even run for a bus if it was two feet from his own front

door. But I digress. I cannot buy the preventatives you suggest because of the side effects they cause

which lead to more expense for the chemist to increase their profits by, namely antibiotics and cures

for thrush. So if you are feeling sulky for not being turned on by this little sting and its effects which

should be resolved in a matter of days, think how sulky you’d be if the preventatives put sex off the

agenda for as much as month!

Man: Ah.

Woman: Yes, ‘ah’. Although... I will concede that with the benefit of hindsight volunteering as 

a gardener at the private gardens in the height of summer and carrying out weeding duties when the midges like swarming by the pond in the early evening on a particularly hot day wasn’t my smartest moment.

Man: Awww, sweetheart.

Woman:  Hmmm. But this bite... I’ve never known anything like it as it’s been migrating round 

my leg, while swelling my thigh to twice its normal size and itching as it goes. I had to go to the doctors while you were away this week. I’d hoped it would have healed by now but he was as baffled as me. And I know you’re squeamish about blood and stuff but, in its early stages I had a massive bruise the size of my fist that went all black. I’ve been in agony.

Man: Oh I’m sorry love, and I’ve been a grump bucket all week on the phone too haven’t I?

Woman: Yup. And I was looking forward to snuggles and cuddles with you all week too you 

know which is why I let you grump all week, cos I knew you were up against it at work.

Man: Oh come here, let me give you a hug. Just let me know which bit I can hug so 

that I don’t hurt you and make things even worse than I already have.

Woman: Thank you... (They hug and start snogging) And I do take precautions you know.

Man: Yeah? (He kisses her) Go on tell me then. (He kisses her) What do you do?

Woman: Well on Tuesday I was just about to hang out some washing when a swarm of wasps 

did a fly by. Imagine if I’d been stung by that many!

Man: (He kisses her) I’d rather not, but go on. (He kisses her) What did you do? (He kisses her)

Woman: I stayed inside and closed the door of course.

Man: A wise move. (He kisses her) Well done. (He kisses her)

Woman:  It was a magnificent fly by; scary, but exciting too. I mean imagine all those males 

following that one female to a new home as that’s what I figured they were doing. (She kisses him)

Man: Just like all the men would follow you, if only they knew how wonderful you are like I do.

Woman:  Thanks, but a bit slushy. But the thing is...

Man: (Kissing her) Mmmmm?

Woman:  It is just typical of men though isn’t it? ‘Cos when you males get the ‘itch’ to have sex 

you’ll do almost anything to ensure you get it, which is why women end up raped. (He STOPS kissing her) Not wishing to encounter a male wasp that was lost with all his testosterone driving him berserk, I not only closed the door but slammed it.

Man: Well, one thing’s for sure...

Woman: What’s that?

Man: Well, look on the bright side, you’re attractive to one human male and every insect.

Woman: You what??? Count yourself as an insect then. I mean, you’re opening compliment to me was that you were as blind as a bat so you couldn’t see how ugly I was so there was no point me buying make-up anyway as if that would make me feel sexy!!! And now you’re telling me that only insects would fancy me?  Which low life do you suggest I shag? Though according to your best efforts so far, you still rank as one of the lowest.

Man:  Oh now, you know by now that I’m crap at phrasing things... come off it.

Woman:  No, you started this... which insect do you suggest I shag, an ant, a bee or maybe a spider. And YES I know a spider is an arachnid not an insect but I tell you what, its webs are far more sophisticated and subtle than yours which suggests a higher level of intellect for starters!

Man: Oh honey...!

Woman:  A bee is it then? You know where the bathroom is and it’s stocked with plenty of 

tissues and bog roll so go and wank yourself off before you go and I wouldn’t have you lose any credibility among my gender without your testosterone levels going unsorted. I mean to think how considerate I’ve been all week when I’ve been in this much pain for... for.... THIS! Some boyfriend. Frankly I’d be better off shagging a bee... it would hurt less and they only attack if they’re attacked. Unlike you! (Storms off)

Man: (Pause. He sighs and looks down at his dick) Well that’s cured that urge for tonight then. Sofa it is then... again. And maybe, just maybe I'll get some sleep. Good job she doesn't know who I turned down this week sex wise! I think I handled that very well, considering. 

Moholoholo Monday Mandela

What follows is a legend, like so many of note from the vast continent of Africa. It is rumoured to be a continent bigger than Europe, bigger than America and although possibly not as big as Asia, it is generally considered to be the second biggest continent on Earth... by just about everyone.

Are you sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin. 

The Ticklish Tale
of a Talented Bird

Now bunch up boys and girls and listen closely for we are about to introduce to you... with a fantastically fabulous fanfare and rather special appearance of an exceptionally excitingly energetically example of eaglet elegance!

Oh dear, it's flown away in a but feathery flap because you were quiet enough. Oh no! It's flown high to keep it's eagle eye on us! Oh phew, lucky you it took flight for now we have another delight.

Yes, it will thrill us, Philys, and yes it gots finery, Fi.

Yes it's for a big bill, Phil and yes it's a birdie, Fergie.

Yes, it a big bird, Fred, Yes, it could easily tear off you head.

Yes it can fly. Most birds can, Ferdinan.

No it's feet aren't wet and rank, Frank.

No it's not flown here from Iona, Fiona.

Now settle down or it'll fly away too and that will be the end of tales today for you!

What is the quietest fanfare noise you could think of so as not to scare this flighty feat of feathered engineering off? Think in whispers please, not out loud. Oh my what fingers and thumbs you have for brains. No, no, not even a toot or a hoot is the noise we make. Silence and awe, I've told you before. Feast with your eyes and and admire and adore. I very quietly but proudly present to you... listen up tightly now for I fear I can only say it once... The ever forever absurdity birditty...

AfwiwengaFoofyfwonbanofufifootiefloppatutufootle-fontamefannoflambefwambo-flapsieflopsiellttofittlefu-floozzaffossoflimbodoodo-fwaringlewonklebyginkotongle-ethypociwithyfondledoc-furdifandiforbinshantifingalfloopmcfittytwot the fourth, but everyone calls him anything they like really but most polite is Fffufty.

Yes, it's an eagle, Feegal!

It is an African eagle and instead of a golden or bald or white or brown head upon it's ruffly neck it has a black head of freely flowing feathers.

What is it now, Fay? Black head is another name for zits. Yes, you really shouldn't sit next to Fred, should you? Fred... sit at the front so no one can see you what you're plotting before I do. Thank you.

Oh but look, Fffufty is glaring at you all now for sniggering at him and trying to decide which of you to tear to pieces for his mid morning snack. He seems to have his eye on you Fred. Hmmmm. That's better, class. Now, where was I? Oh yes...

Fffufty is in fact a Betaleur eagle and they are rather special. Note the speckling on it's wing feathers and colourful beak with it's sinister simitar scything sharply curving point? Looks like it would be brilliant at opening a tinned can of beans or worms doesn't it, children?

It would be hopeless at it though, isn't that right Fffufty? Yes.

We've met before at a circus you see. He wasn't meant to perform but flew in, to the rescue, when one of the acts sprained their ankle. So there's a clue for you. What do you suppose the Betaleur eagle is good at that a human would be rubbish at with a sprained ankle?

No, not clowning around.

No, not horse riding.

Not jumping through hoops though you are getting warmer with that guess.

No, not fire eating!

Juggling doesn't require you to use your feet, at least not usually although I have seen folk juggle with their heads often enough.

Ssssh, keep the noise down, Fffufty's watching you and look how your noise flustered his feathery ruff round his neck and led to his wings a flapping.

When he flies you won't have time to run and most likely wouldn't hear him coming at you with all your tongues flapping. So on the flapping side of things, he wins every time as most eagles do. This is why you find them on a lot of emblems on coins and flags too. Curious thing to ask the history teacher about that. Some nations have just stripes, others symbols of peace and others scary birds and beasts. I've never seen on with a good rendering of an insect on though. Yes... DO ask the history teacher about that, won't you everyone?

No, he hasn't upset me more than yesterday or the day before. Thank you. To continue...

Eagles are famous for being fierce and efficient at it, which means they are energy saving creatures and many starve long before they reach the age of one in times when food is scarce.

Now have you given up guessing what circus act he can perform rather well? Thought so. Now I'll not tell, but with my very thick glove on if you are all quiet I'll see if he will fly to my hand and then see if he will perform it once again especially for you.

Oooo, yes. Isn't he a sight to behold. His fabulous white under feathers, and red feet. Fabulous coloured feathers all very neat. Yes, that's right Fffufty. He is particularly rare as even Betaleur Eagles go for who has ever come across another bird of prey that lets you stroke it behind the ears and coo when you do so. See? Is that nice? Awwww Fffufty, love. Later dear... remember we're here to give a demonstration to this class of how beautiful and powerful you are. Hmm. That's better. Yes, I do have caught rabbit for your lunch. I suppose the history teacher didn't mean to run it over when it escaped from the science lab. Honestly boys and girls I sometimes think I am the only teacher who knows how to teach and keep their equipment in good order, some days.

Oh dear, there's the bell for morning break. How time flies. Well, class I suppose you want to hurry off as usual then. Oh you don't? Oh well then, prepare for blood and gore as Fffufty has his breakfast, snack, lunch and dinner. This should keep him looking just as magnificent as ever for a bit, so long as the history teacher doesn't see you. It's a pity I haven't taught you how to pierce man made things really like car tyres. Well, here you are then.

See how he hops and snips and rips. See how he plays with his food like you Fiona, but at least he eats it all when he can get it. It'll be a while before he'll eat it though, I can tell. Oh bravo Fffufty that was a brilliant throw. No point in telling him that it is definitely dead already. He likes to check that for himself for quite a while when he feels safe and has eaten recently. I do like his 1970s trousers, you know, and have you noticed his economy size tail feathers. Economy size for an eagle that is. It's why he can bob about of course, isn't it Ffffufty-wufty the fourth.

Doesn't matter what I say to him at the moment. Now he has his food, though he will look around he'll only focus on that. He's just checking I'm not notifying him of any dangers coming his way like the history teacher. No, you're fine Ffffufty. He wouldn't dare come this way now the class have told him where I am and who with. Oh... you're still here. Class dismiss I said. What's that?

What did he do at the circus? Oh... that. Yes well it was hardly likely to be the ring master, the musical entertainment, the lion tamer or the trapeze artist was it? Escapologist? Nice one, I wish - but no. Think again. He's agile with his feet but delicate with it too.

Why Fergie, the sun must have effected you ability to think at last. Correct. Betaleur eagles are also referred to sometimes as the tightrope eagles. It has nothing whatever to do with circus acts though. They're just very good at knotting ropes to hang lazy children with, is all. Oh dear. There's the bell for your history class. Bad luck. I have marking to do now. Come to my classes promptly next time will you? Off you go now, unless you want to dawdle with Fffufty and me and tarry a while...