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Rated: 13+ · Book · Comedy · #2286083
Long, long ago, in a Newsfeed....
#1041328 added December 3, 2022 at 1:13pm
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Wild Winston beyond the blunderdrome with Shamrock Moans
Doctor Whatever examined the body very carefully. Eventually he turned and gave Shamrock a professional nod.

"Well that all seems to be in order Mrs?" Shamrock paused.

"Smith, Julia Smith." Julia said buttoning up her overall. Then she gave Dr. Whatever a ringing slap.

"And what brings you to the door of Shamrock Moans, World famous Irish Detective and Complainant Mrs. Smith?" Asked Moans, completely ignoring the well deserved blow.

"It's about my husband Winston, Mr Moans. He's gone."

"Gone? As in disappeared, vanished?"

"Oh no, nothing like that. He's gone Mad."

"How far Mad would you say?" Asked Dr. Whatever, rubbing his reddened cheek and thinking it on the whole quite worth it.

"To the Extreme Doctor."

"Mad to the Extreme eh!"

"Exactly how does this madness manifest Mrs. Smith?"

"He has taken to pedalling extremely quickly around Clapham Common and yelling that he's Wild Winston, and that he must track down the Podiatrist."

"Clapham Common! Isn't there a Clown Circus there this week?"

At this point Moans' grandfather clock ominously struck thirteen.

"We really must make time to have that mended." Observed Doctor Whatever.

"Why yes there is," exclaimed Mrs Smith, "it's called The Blunderdrome apparently."

"Good Grief. This is worse than I thought." Said Moans, somewhat over dramatically to be honest.

"I say Moans, aren't those the clowns that preserve ancient jokes?"

"The same. They're run by a shadowy figure who calls himself 'The Fool.'"

"Is he quite batty Moans?"

"I think maybe we already did that one John."

"Excuse me," interjected Mrs Smith, who could see the way these distractions were tending to distract. "But what does this have to do with my husband being extremely Mad?"

"Quite right Mrs. Smith, it's time to get down to Brass Tacks. Doctor Whatever, call us a cab."

"Certainly Moans, Mrs. Smith. You're a cab."

Moans waited for the narrative to deliver another ringing slap via Mrs. Smith, but she was distracted.

"Everyone knows that clowns have big feet." Mused Moans aloud. "I wonder if that means they employ the Podiatrist's bigger brother?"
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