Journal of Cannonby: Don't Hate us for the Hiatus

For real.  Here it is once again.


Narrator: Me
Boris: Dafydd
Bevan: Me
Cannonby: Luke
ZX: Me


*****

Journal: The Remarkable Doings of Cannonby
Don't hate us for the hiatus


Narrator
When last we glimpsed our heroes, so many yons ago, they were in a golden suryper of a sticky situation.  The crew were involved in a pincer assault on Vinehaven, a vast castle home to a cannibalistic wine-obsessed cult, partly to rescue the kidnapped the comatose Stephen Teal and Bludonna Snow, and partly to pillage some wine.  The group of Cannonby, Bevan and ZX Ilfracombe led with a full-frontal bombardment, while the espionage team of Boris, Doktor Li Faiseas and Uh Nurse snuck in through concealed tunnels.  In dramatic fashion, Cannonby and co were able to bring down the main gate with the meta-punning use of an explosive petard, while elsewhere, Teal and Bludonna were about to be pulped into manwine by the dreadful Crimson Maude, assisted by the onlooking lackey Hazel.  Now, framed by a distant rumbling of brick and mortar, Boris and Bevan make their escape through the dense forest that envelops Vinehaven, their progress impeded by their hefty cargo, namely the deadweight of the unconscious forms of Stephen Teal and Bludonna Snow.


Boris: I still don't understand what happened back there comrade!


Bevan: It was the petard we hoisted Boris...


Boris: I didn't hoist any petards...


Bevan: Okay, it was the petard I specifically hoisted, it packed a lot more splosion than we... I had anticipated.  Not only did it collapse the main gate, it seems it also buckled the floor, plungling me into the winecellar.


Boris: It must have done more than that!  The entire castle seemed to be coming down!


Bevan: Yes, it seems our actions rocked the place to its very foundations, literally.


Boris: Mmm.  Well as dangerous as it has proved to be now, comrade, it was magnificent timing on your part, no joke!


Bevan: I would say so, yes.  From what I gather Teal and Bludonna would be halfway to the production line had I not intervened.


Boris: glorious, perfect Green Ranger ex machina, swooping in, saving the day...   You didn't have to see what happened though...


Bevan: Well I was reeling a bit from having fallen 20 feet... luckily I landed on my stiff upper lip, and that cushioned a lot of the blow.


Boris:  You should have seen it comrade!  The pillar they were going to use to pulp Bludonna


Bevan: And Teal.


Boris: the pillar came out of it's moorings and smwshed to the ground, oh Bevan, it was awful.  It caught the Doktor and Nurse directly in it's path, and one of the Vinehaven goons!


Bevan: I guessed as much, when I snapped out of my confusion, it was with an astounding swiftness that I realised I was wading through excavated viscera.


Boris: Oh, Cruijff above, what horror.  You know like when a line of blocks disappear in tetris?


Bevan: No, I mean it hasn't been invented yet...


Boris: Well, this was nothing like that it was like a band of furious gorillas brutalising an aisle of lumpy tomato soup!


Bevan:  Peace, Boris.  Let us make good our escape, ere something yet more fearful befall us.


Boris:


Narrator
As the rueful and sombre twosome trudge their way away with their comatose cargo, little do they know their progress is being surveyed by the canny and vengeful eyes of the other winecellar survivor, the sly and vicious Crimson Maude.  Meanwhile!  Back at the now-crumbling castle of Vinehaven, two stoic champions seem unflapped by the structural instability of the stronghold they are looking to scale.  With eyes set firmly at the top, Cannonby begins his ascent.


Cnby: Come, Ilfracombe!  My eyes are set firmly at the top, and I am about to begin my ascent!


ZX: For what possible reason would you decide to ape up this compromised monument?


Cnby: For this is why, follow my reason if you dare!  We're aiming for the figurehead of this organisation, no?  And where would you locate the head-honcho?  Your assumption is correct my cyber-composite super-companion... AT THE TOP!


ZX: Captain, though your enthusiasm would be amusing were I not a robotic construction, I must indicate that the logistical flaws in your reasoning are vast and manifold.


Cnby: Silence!  Your plaintive criticisms, whilst wholly grounded in logic, are but cannonfodder in the blast of my cannonlogic.  I looked up when I was outside, and I saw her, the Headpriestess.  Now, Ilfracombe, I was a face-off on the battlements, and hopefully by the time I get there, there will be a lightning storm aswell.  Now are you to become my tailgate or are you going to stay at the gate with your tail between your legs!?


ZX: Which are we here for Captain, conflict or wine?  It was my understanding that...


Cnby:  BOTH!  Both of course, why simply have your cake when you can have a battle over it and then eat is with some icing on all lovely yum yum!  It seems though you are appearing as ZX, you are seeing the world through the eyes of your ghostly viking companion Ivan.  Hear me well Ivan, gather the wine, I will head up top to make fisticuffs with the head-honcherina, and afterwards we'll have ourselves the most magnificent celebration seen under the sun.  Hold tight, and may Cruijff watch over you.


Narrator
ZX heads down to loot what wine he can find, Cannonby heads up to boot Vino in the behind.  Does Cannonby truly understand the severity of confronting Vinehaven's DreadPriestess, the merciless Mellencamp Vino?  Will ZX's efforts in the collapsing winecellar be as unproblematic as simply stealing some wine?  What plans are currently fermenting in the twisted mind of Crimson Maude?  When you find out, you might not be able to Cannonbelieve it! in the next uterus-tighteningly electrifying instalment of the Tales of Cannonby!


*****


Probably should be mentioned as a footnote that when we read this out Luke farted during one of his lines and this changed the dynamic of the script somewhat.


Why not re-read it and imagine a fart during a Cannonby line and imagine how much funnier it would be?


This'll appear on one of The ACRE Podcasts several months from now in the year 2011.


I entrust you with making your own week enjoyable.

TPE 0002: Better to Light a Single Candle than to Curse the Darkness

Here, then, is the very second installment of our immensely ambitious project to bring the proverbial world to its knees. This week I am joined by my co-ACRE and failed scientist Luke Sampson, in order to tackle the proverb: It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness.

Brwm, brwm; beep, beep.

Communication is important.  Thought I’d start with a concise statement there so as not to be misconstrued.  Since communication is important it is equally important that the communication that you are undertaking is clear, or as clear as you can make it, so as not to be misconstrued.  Repetition can achieve this, although it can also make you look simple, and bore anyone reading, which is bad for communication.

Being misunderstood is one thing which frustrates me.  It frustrates me even more so if the person doing the misunderstanding is doing it wilfully.  There’s nothing which annoys me quite as much as someone trying to annoy me.  Which, in and of itself, is annoying.

Having been ‘the loud one’ for a portion of my life, I have been purposefully attempting to be softer and quieter when speaking, so as to salvage some dignity for myself, in the lieu of my childhood which I spent headbutting tables and dribbling water down myself for laughs (my own).  Rather than seeming dignified and considered, I come across as timid and people often can’t hear.  This is frustrating.

After spending time attempting to develop a more restrained and considered pattern of speaking and an, often needlessly, colourful way of writing, it is testing to be in a position where communication is in some way hampered.

Driving to work every day, there is an awkward junction which, since a new bypass was completed, has become a sticking point.  There are two sets of traffic lights side by side, one which directs traffic straight on and to the right, and another which directs traffic to the left.  I take the left, and often the left turn is green whilst the other is red, no problem.  However, the lights are situated on the crest of a hill, and so at the time of day I drive in, the sun is directly behind them, blinding sight and obscuring the colours from view.  Also, when the straight on light turns green, the light on the other set disappears completely.  These events mean that often someone stops at the lights when they should be driving on, causing a queue on a very steep hill, usually involving a bus, or a number of buses (the bus, of course, my nemesis).

I did this once, soon after the road had been completed, and when I stopped, uncertain as to whether or not I would be ploughed into should I drive on, a man I would describe as ‘very angry’ started beeping repeatedly and furiously at me, gurning like a beleaguered lobster, or a put-upon bichon frise.  I was quite stressed out by his aural attack, and decided that I wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing myself.

For three days in a row this week I have had to stop behind people who aren’t familiar with the quirks of the lights.  It is at that point that I realised fully just how limited the options available to car-based interaction are.  A beep of ‘hey, you can go’ is the exact same beep of ‘come on you tool, go!’  I feel bad after beeping, so I force myself to smile demurely afterwards, so at the very least any rear-view mirror interaction will dispel any suspicions of dickishness.

Recently, I had cause to remove some children from the premises where I work, and when challenged for a reason, I explained they were being punished for being “obnoxious”.  Now, with the information offered to me by 21^st Century super-magic ‘the internet’, I can offer that this word means ‘extremely unpleasant, very annoying or objectionable; offensive or odious’.  All that took was typing the word ‘obnoxious’ into a search bar embedded in an internet browser.  Children, however, are tediously devoid of resourcefulness when they decide to be.  They declared, as a group, that they didn’t understand the word ‘obnoxious’.  Given that I had invested quite a lot of my initial reasoning on the word ‘obnoxious’, I found their lack of vocabulambition, ironically, obnoxious.  Throwing them out for being ‘rude’ doesn’t have quite the same impact.  Makes me look like a screeching oldyn tymes Governess.  ‘Bad attitude’ makes them into Fonz-like dudes who are fighting the man.  My ad-libabilities are lacking still, I could only stretch to “whatever, just get out”.

Kids and cars.  Bastards.

The Proverbial Experiment 0001: A Watched Kettle Never Boils

Here we have the inaugural outing for my very own vanity project, the splendiferous Proverbial Experiment.  On this occasion we scrutinised the proverb 'A Watched Kettle Never Boils'.

May pedantic deconstruction prevail.

Fill Your Boots

A sketch conceived, or at least workshopped, in a library.  How very inappropriate!  It was, however, filmed in the idyllic and overgrown gullies of the picturesque Rhondda valleys.

Official Alternative Ending to Twilight

Here is our 100% legitimate official alternative ending to the twilight series.  Thanks to H.G. Wells for inspiration and Richard Burton for being badly mimicked.

Extreme Human Ragdoll

This sketch is far and away our most Xtreme.  A tribute to all extreme sports shows.

With thanks to Sound the Attack for allowing us use of their extreme licks.

An Eggcorn Revenge

A sketch almost certainly inspired by the eggcorn investigations of Messrs. Adam and Joe of a Saturday morning/afternoon.

How To Reintegrate a Soldier

This is the first of our socially-conscious edu-info-tainment sketches.

Hard Reset

This is a sketch born out of the pain of my youth.

Just Another Minute

Way back when it seemed that I was much better at linking things and using this blog constructively, it seems therefore that there are a backlog of sketches that we've now filmed that I haven't linked here.

I will now take the opportunity to do so.

Journal of Cannonby: Come on Baby, Let's Do the Twist

I haven't posted one of these scripts for ages, because we stopped doing them.  This was the final script that was performed before the huge summer gap.  Gap?  What's this?  Are they to be starting up again?  PERHAPS!!

Narrator: Me

Boris: Dafydd

Cannonby: Jean-Pierre le Grenouille

Maude: Me

Vino: Jean-Pierre le Grenouille

Bevan: Me

Nurse: Me

Doktor: Jean-Pierre le Grenouille

Hazel: Dafydd

Boris: Dafydd

************

Journal: The Remarkable Doings of Cannonby

Come on Baby, Let's Do The Twist.

Narrator

In the last episode of Tales of Cannonby…

BORIS:      Here's the hidden passageway!

CNBY:       Destroy the gate!

MAUDE:    Throw the switch!

Narrator

Waw-ee, lots of exciting happenings and stuff.  There is an imminent crushing of Teal and Bludonna on the cards, they are aboot to be crushed into a fleshy winepaste, though we can only hope that Boris' newfound hidden passageway leads directly and conveniently to that chamber but I suppose we'll have to wait to find out won't we?  Eh?  Eh?  Let us join a reflective Mellencamp Vino, who stands in her i-viney tower atop the battlements of Vinehaven…

VINO:         Oh, for a goblet of fresh wine!  How many moon cycles have I suffered without the gush of wine to slake my tempestuous thirst?  *sigh*  I had hoped to lead Vinehaven into its most fruitful age, but during my time at the metaphorical helm we have been struck with the worst drought in our history.  I'd assumed that dethroning the last Vineleaders and banishing all men from the citadel in a feminist coup d'état would lead to a better Vinehaven for ALL!  For all the women at least.  But the random thoroughfare through the region has all but died out, which means no fresh blood slash wine for us.  You'd think an out of town colony of sexy women would receive more visitors, really.  It's all this gender equality business that's ruining it for us.  It's political correctness gone mad. *sigh*  If I look out of my i-viney tower down upon the courtyard, there's ne'er a person in sight.  Oh wait, actually there is.  Is this some sort of siege?  What the hell is going on?

Narrator

And far below, in the courtyard…

CNBY:     Pull your weight you metallic curmudgeon!

BEVAN:   Look, Captain!  I don't mean to pour vinegar in your toilet, but just shouting at ZX isn't going to make him work any harder.  He may look like a robotic killing machine but inside he is a vulnerable fleshy sac just like everyone else.

CNBY:     That sounds vulgar, but it isn't!  You've won me over with your innuendo-laden logic.  I will be satisfied that he is moving at his current pace.

BEVAN:   That's very good of you, Captain.  Just look at the door there, you can see the outer crust of the polished oak cracking.  We'll be able to rush inside in a matter of hours!

CNBY:     Won't they have discovered us by then?

BEVAN:   Now, Captain.  You aren't meant to be the voice of sense in these conversations.  If you carry on like that you'll undermine the brittle equilibrium we've built up over these months, and then where would we be?

CNBY:     Still stuck outside the Castle?

BEVAN:   Touche.

CNBY:     That's not really a good enough punchline to deserve a touche.

BEVAN:   Touche.  Hoist by my own touche-based petard.

CNBY:     What is a petard?

BEVAN:   Well, according to wikipedia: A petard was a small bomb used to blow up gates and walls when breaching fortifications.

CNBY:     Well that's unbelievably coincidental, given the situation we are currently in.  Bevan!  Don't hoist yourself with that petard, use it to destroy the gate.

BEVAN:   Captain, given the flexible nature of radio broadcasting as a medium which requires imagination to really enjoy, and also the chaotic nature of this very story, your suggestion to use the petard I hoist myself with to blow up the gates is both as lazy and idiotic as it is genius.

CNBY:     That's the way I sail!  Blow the gates!

BEVAN:   Yes sir!

Narrator

But as the straight-forward team had concocted their petard-based scheme, Boris and the medical-centric characters were sneaking their way through the secret passages hoping to use the cack-handed distraction of Cannonby in their own clandestine plot to rescue Teal and Bludonna.

BORIS:    I see light at the end of the tunnel!

NURSE:   I see nothing within that sentence which could be misconstrued for comic effect.

DOKTOR: Correct.

BORIS:    There's a big ol' room just beyond the aperture here, it looks like a cross between a wine cellar and a brewery.  There're two beautiful women who are manning, sorry, there are two beautiful women who are womanning a lever, looking to bring down a giant mechanic foot and crush Teal and Bludonna into wine OH MY GOTT!

DOKTOR: Finally, we're back to the plot.

MAUDE:   Throw the switch!

HAZEL:    Yes, Miss Maude.

BORIS:    (really long and drawn out) STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!

(sound of switch being thrown, foot descending and crushing Teal and Bludonna)

Narrator

Well I did not expect that.  It is a bit abrupt isn't it?  I mean I can see what they were going for, trying to undermine story cliches by actually killing off the hostages but surely that's not the answer?  I mean it wasn't particularly funny.  I think I've lost faith in this story now, I don't think I'm even going to listen next week.  See how you start the episode then.  Think you can just play with the listeners emotions like that, killing off long-running popular characters.  Who do you think you are, Eastenders?  Or 24?  Or The Wire?  I would imagine.  I've not seen any of them.  Well you aren't, you are The Tales of Cannonby, and next week you will continue to be, the Tales of Cannonby!  Come back to see what happens, who knows, it might be some kind of trick, or magic-ear puzzle.  On the Tales of Cannonby!  They are definitely dead though.  (gap)  Or are they?  Eh?  Eh?  They are yeah.  (gap)  They might not be though.  (gap)  See how I feel.  (gap) On the Tales of Cannonby!!!!

*******

It was left on a ludicrous cliffhanger...

How is that going to be sorted out?

Customer Inquiries: Imperial Leather Reply

In my last blog I documented the attempts of Arthur Isherwood to get some customer service.  I posited, wrongly it seems, that he would receive no reply. Imperial Leather have disproved this, and in so doing proven themselves to be in possession of a sense of customer care and also of humour.

Hi-thanks for your email
Don't worry, washing yourself in Jojoba will not have any long term adverse affect on your masculinity so I wouldn't worry too much on that score. Infact, all our shower gels could be considered "uni-sex" it depends on which fragrances you like/dislike! But if you do prefer the more masculine fragrances then the mens range would obviously suit you better
Regards
Anonymous McJones

Still, while they assure me that there are no 'long term adverse' effects, that does seem to imply that there are short term adverse effects.  Hopefully this is only 'smelling "girly"', Arthur seems not to have reported any such effects, so here's hoping he is in the clear.

Customer Inquiries

My good friend the artist Arthur Isherwood recently penned three customer inquiries and it seems unlikely that he will receive a reply due to the eccentric turn of phrase which he utilises.  He has asked me to replicate them here for public consumption, which I, being a great friend, have agreed to.

The first was sent to the ice cream company Antonio Federici, who recently had an advert picturing a pregnant nun banned.

Hello,

I recently became aware of your company following the widely reported banning of your "Immaculately Conceived" poster ad.  I personally found this ad gently amusing, as did my wife, who is a Roman Catholic, and therefore supposedly the sort of person who would have been insulted in the eyes of the ASA.  Needless to say, I feel as though the banning was misjudged and heavy-handed.

I was heartened to discover, reading further into a BBC article, that your firm was planning on "securing a series of billboards close to and along the planned route of the Pope's cavalcade around Westminster Cathedral", with posters in the same vein.  Since this visit has now played out, and no report has surfaced, I was wondering whether it had been possible to see out this plan, or whether you had, once again, been hamstringed by the misguided actions of the ASA?

Your desire to "comment on and question, using satire and gentle humour, the relevance and hypocrisy of religion and the attitudes of the church to social issues" certainly chimes with me personally, although I do hope that you retain your desire to make ice cream that is delicious and cold.

While satirising the idea of imaculate conception does question some of the inherent hypocrisies in religion, I wonder if it would be more effective to focus on certain hypocrisies that are current hot potatoes.  For example, the current Pope is making waves in the press for having covered up, and failing to protect the victims of, a large-scale Catholic priest paedophile ring, and I feel it would be an incredibly bold way for you to comment on and question the hypocrisy of religion and the attitudes of the church to social issues if you addressed this colossal hypocrisy.  It would be fairly simple, I would suggest, to create an ad for this in the style of your current "Ice cream is our religion" campaign, perhaps showing a kneeling child with its eyes closed being covered in vanilla ice cream by a gurning priest.  The tag line could be 'it is more blessed to give than to receive' or perhaps 'see no evil, evil semen'.  Perhaps I have overstepped a mark there, the ideas are your jurisdiction, after all.

Looking forward to hearing from you

Arthur Isherwood

The second was to Imperial Leather.

Hello,

I am a student, and as such don't often have the opportunity to treat myself to a washing experience, not one that is enhanced by the presence of brand name soap anyway, and a number of blue moons have passed since last I was fortunate enough to cleanse myself with an Imperial Leather product.

My Imperial Leather lull was put to an end last night however, when I returned home to visit my parents.  I took advantage of all the home comforts I have not been privy to in my Sawesque dormroom.  Food and drink were first on my list, but, as you may have guessed, I then had a shower.

This shower was punctuated by the blessed presence of Imperial Leather shower gel, the Softly Softly range to be more precise.  In my haste to wash I overlooked its milky hue and applied it generously on my body.  It was only on later inspection that I discovered it was made of Jojoba Milk and Vitamin E.  Now I am not overly familiar with the Jojoba, and since I was suspicious that it was derived from the word 'juju', I investigated.  I have since discovered that this is a "girly" ingredient.  I further investigated your range of shower gels and discovered that one is 'For Men', further raising my stress levels.

What had I just done to myself by smothering my masculine body with a shower gel which is not for men?

I am panicked, and writing to you to enquire whether there will be adverse effects on my male body due to the use of this non-for men shower gel.  I am quite concerned as I have a beard, which is possibly the most manly thing, aside from a penis, possibly.  If there will be adverse effects, are there any steps I can take to counteract the feminisation of my body?  I have been self-medicating with steak and ale pies, but I just feel bloated, which is a woman's emotion.

Yours hopefully

Arthur Isherwood

And the third was about Lilt (but sent to their parent company Coca-Cola).

Hello,

Whilst writing this is I am currently slaking my thirst with a bottle of Lilt Zero.  It is fulfilling it's role quite well, which is amazing considering I am quite concerned, and it is 'best consumed chilled out'.  I can only imagine how wonderful it would taste were I only able to calm down.

The source of my consternation on this occasion is the declaration of the bottle of Lilt that is has a 'totally tropical taste'.  I assume this claim stems from the fact that it contains pineapple and grapefruit, which are considered tropical fruit.  I was wondering whether the pineapple and grapefruit used to make Lilt are sourced from the tropics, or whether the fruits themselves simply suggest a tropical taste, rather than them being an actual tropical taste.  Closer inspection of the ingredients listed, however, shows that pineapple and grapefruit juice from concentrates make up only 5% of the beverage.

I was wondering further, therefore, whether the carbonated water, citric acid, acidity regulator, sweeteners, flavourings, preservatives, antioxidants, stabilisers, colour and the source of phenylanine listed on the bottle were also sourced from tropical climes, or whether they contribute to a tropical-like taste.

I inquire because the drink claims to have a 'totally' tropical taste, whereas my research has led me to surmise that in reality is has a 'somewhat' tropical taste.

Yours inquisitively

Arthur Isherwood.

Good old Arthur, being a low-level nuisance.  Maybe one day he will use his tedious nagging for good.