One Down.

Yet another meeting in the town hall on Monday and once again the main topic on the agenda for the vast majority of those present was the continuing presence of the Cornetto Kid. You'd think by now, would you not, that he and his rabid mob of supporters would have thrown in the towel but no. The absurd sight of pompous and deluded Mare, Ma McHardy attempting to save his bacon once again left most onlookers incredulous and the question in many people's minds was: what hold does he have over them?
Bizarrely, The Kid was absent from this meeting and there was an unsettling atmosphere of smug self satisfaction amongst the 'Town Hall Mob'; they clearly felt they had a couple of aces up their sleeves and it didn't take long before they were smacked down on the table: they'd taken 'legal advice' and the resolution to rid ourselves of the convicted Williams was, they said invalid. In the end, largely due to public pressure and the excellent work of Councillor Pearson, this was shown to be incorrect and the smugness evaporated.
When questioned about her own involvement with a company called Foss Island Media which was until very recently, registered at her address and of which the Cornetto Kid is a Director, she became flustered and defensive and refused to answer any questions, insisting they should be written in long hand and sent to the council office - so much for clarity and openness!!

Anyway - for the time being at least - the Cornetto Kid may no longer sit on the F&GP committee and I guess Mad Ma McHardy took a bit of calming down after the meeting!

Meet The Town Hall Mob No 4 Andrew (Andy) Williams AKA The Cornetto Kid

Who is he?

Leader of the Town Hall Mob and well known crooner

What Does He Do?

He Chairs the finance committee. No he doesn't. Yes he does, no he doesn't.

The interview:

The PUN caught up with the Cornetto Kid by chance as he was coming out of the public toilets (he seems to have a very weak bladder) but he didn't want to give us an interview: "No, no, NO." he squeaked "I ain't tellin' ya nothin' see? He was running his finger tips over the six guns in his leather holster. "You said my record was terrible  so Ma says I'm not to talk to you so there". The record in question is of course (Andy's) 6 Biggest Hits album of 2010 which you will remember was reviewed on these pages. "Anyway, you wait an' see: I'm gonna make 'em make me top chief cowboy of the council agin or else I'll scweem an sweem an' scweem until I'm sick……an' I can.  "Now git outa here before I reload - I shot all my bullets off at some varmint in there" he nods towards the gents, "but it won't take but a minute to slip another one in the chamber".

At this point we felt it best to leave (We think it's only a cap gun but you never know do you!) so we headed of with our tails tucked safely between our legs.

Meet The Town Hall Mob No 3 - Unc Powell

Who is he?

Town Hall Mob 'member' and perfumier to (Andy) (Cornetto Kid) Williams

What does he do?

Agrees with (Andy).

The Interview:

Harb: Could you tell us……..

Unc: "AIN'T NO LAW-MAN around here gonna tell ma-boy (Andy) what to do; no sir Bub. (Andy) sez what he likes and I likes what he sez. Now some folks have been a sayin he's taken sup'n what don't belong to him and ah say whatever the boy wants, the boy can have. Some folks have bin sayin the kid shouldn't be on this ere council thing and ah say what the hot diggety dang has it got to do with them? This is OUR council and don't you forget it. We aint gonna stand for no greenhorn from east of Gallows Hill telling us what we can and can't do, no sireee, an if'n ah want to wipe (Andy's) bottom with my nose then aint nothin gonna stop me……less'n a course Ma gets there first.
So let's get this straight right now: WE run this town and what (Andy) sez goes; if ya don't like it then we gonna run ya outa town".

Meet The Town Hall Mob No 2

Pa McHardy

Who is he?

Hit man for the Town Hall Mob

What's his Modus operandi?

Jumping up and down and shouting a lot when he's had a few (he has a nasty line in dribbling too).

Distinguishing Features

He appears to have Tourette's Syndrome.

The Interview

Harb: 'So Pa: how are you enjoying life as the Mare's consort?'

Pa: Ooo are you callin a fookin conshort you fookin coont? Sorry Ma.

Harb: I simply meant…….

Pa: Ah'll fookin kill ya, ah'll fookin blow ya away ya fookin coont. Sorry Ma.

Harb: Pa - could I ask if you see Ma serving a second term?

Pa: Second fookin term? She's not been found guilty yet you fookin coont. Sorry Ma. Sorry Ma.

Harb: I meant second incumbency as Mare.

Pa: Who's fookin bent? Are you shaying Ma's fookin bent you fookin coont?

Harb: I think we'll leave it there!

Pa: I'll fookin show you - where's me fookin gun? YEEEHAAAR!

DING DONG

Good news everyone: your old chum Harbinger has decided to marry! A huge disappointment for some of you prettier ladies out there I know but this is a match made in…………..Fleet street. That's right - following her recent and timely elevation to the post of Gruaniad Editor she can't help feeling we are now the perfect couple and I must confess - I'm bound to agree with the lass. The happy girl is of course the lovely, the luscious, the fragrant Katharine Vyner - soon to be Katharine Harbinger so we'll have a new contributor to the jolly old PUN . It could be a longish engagement as old Harb is a little busy what with one thing and another but you'll be the third to know of developments.

Here's me and the future Mrs H on our last trip together to the metropolis.

Meet the Town Hall Mob No' 1

No 1. Ma McHardy:

Who is she?

temporary leader of the Town Hall Mob.

What does she do?

Dresses up as a gangster's moll and parades about the town.

Is she married?

Yes….sorry guys: There is a Pa McHardy who will feature in a future edition of 'Meet The Town Hall Mob'.

The interview:

Harb: So Ma - what are your plans for Ripon?

McHardy: Ooo you are presooomptuous yoong man - I'm the Very Raight Worshipful The Lady Mareship of Ripon I'll 'ave yew know; I take exemption to your familarity, hand any road up - it's not wot I can do for Ripon, but wot Ripon can do for ME.

Harb: Ah yes, well, tell us about your day.

McHardy: We get oop early and while Pa polishes may Mare's accoutrements I lay in the bath lovingly soaping myself all hoever and phone ower (Andy) to find out what ee's wearin - ee wouldn't want us to clash. Do you know (Andy)? Such a lovely, lovely, lovely boy and ee didn't do hany of the things the police and the judge and heveryone sez ee did because ee's hever so naice.
I go into my plushly appointed front lounge-room and wait for (Andy) - he likes to come into my front lounge-room. When ee harrives we 'ave a Nescafe together (Gold Blend) and look at ower diary to see what freebies invitations we're going to attend because aim the Mare and hever so impotent. After that we practice a bit of marching oop and down wearing ower chains ((Andy) wears Pa's chains 'cos Pa's not allowed in may front Lounge-room 'cos ee's all rough and spills 'is wayne heverywhere).
After that hit's one long round of freebies, engagements - dinners, teas, that kind of stuff. Sometimes we 'ave to go to classicalist music things but that can be a bit boring and then it's bedtime….(Andy) goes home. That's it really - I ham very impotent.

Harb: Thank you Your Very Right Worshipful The Lady Mareness.

As told to the editor

En Famille

Apparently there's a bit of chat going about Ripon that some of the councillors might be related - RIDICULOUS!

Hunter Home From The Hill

Well it HAS been a long time hasn't it playmates but here I am back in the hold homestead once again, a tin of Heinz finest bubbling away on the two ringer, a glass of mildly intoxicating beverage to hand and an unquenched appetite for local news. I've only been back five minutes and I need a new battery for the doorbell already - WOW, hasn't everyone been busy! Much has changed since my last prophetic posts but a lot remains unchanged.

Send me all your finest and juiciest bits and I'll share and share alike. All Ye Best…..Harb.

Evening All

As the seasons change and winter breathes its last gasp; almost unnoticed on Kirkgate (Ripon's shambles) appear those brightly coloured harbingers of spring: the police van. Litter swirls in their wake and settles back onto the deserted street. It is early Friday evening. No-one is about to witness their arrival save a few hardened drinkers in the Royal Oak, the odd Hopperesque diner and Harbinger, wobbling back to the rank from an evening of prayer and contemplation.

The local Plod heave themselves out of their stripy cocoons and swarm down urine scented alleyways, then all is quiet; what could they be searching for at this time of the evening and who is so dangerous that he requires three vans to bring him in; is it a drugs raid, or are they searching for the elusive crooner and Ripon Mare Andrew (Andy) Williams?  Williams, as you will know by now has been arrested, allegedly in connection with the disappearance of public funds (nicking dosh) and yet he's still holding on to his shiny chain.

 You'd think, wouldn't you, that given the furore surrounding his arrest he would have immediately handed over the chains of office and stepped down from all public engagements but no! You can't get rid of (Andy) that easily. As the plod waddle up the wrong alley, Teflon (Andy) is no doubt cowering in the bushes awaiting the moment to slither back into the council chamber wearing an oleaginous smirk and the contents of his 'Mare's Dressing Up Box'. Imagine for a moment if you will, that (Andy) is innocent of the charge; that he is as pure in thought and deed as a new-born lamb gambolling in a Spring meadow: would it still not be the right thing to do to protect the office of Ripon Mare he professes to hold in such high esteem? As it is, he has not only tarnished the position by association with the charge, but also made it an object of derision. STEP DOWN NOW (Andy) limit the damage and do us all a favour.

Nothing Wrong With A Good Old Fashioned Bit Of GBH', says local plod

You'll be relieved to hear that the Ripon Plod are in full support of violence and Anti Social Behaviour in our local fightclub; Harbinger's interview with Inspector Plod of Ripon constabulary:

  'ASB 'appens in every town in the country', Insp Plod tells me, 'and there's no reason why Ripon can't 'ave its fair share. 'If we stay well clear of the Matrix, especially at kicking out time it means we can sit in the station an' drink coffee an' play Monopoly an' not have to do writin' an' stuff like that. We might even have a mini Brixton or Toxteth which would be great 'cause I might get in the paper an' stuff, there used to get a lot of moaning from shopkeepers around the Matrix about blood on the street and vomit and wee wee, but now they've all closed down so it's great! We can drive around in our police cars and not have to get out, and then there's the road sweeper - he'd have nothing to do on a Sunday morning if he wasn't sweeping up sick and broken glass an' stuff, an' nurses at the hospital need to practice bandaging an' fightin' off drunk people who want to get at their knickers, so you see we 'ave what we in the force call a win win situation, which means that we win and then, err, we win again.

The Big Fight

As reported in the Ripon Gazette, the big fight this week was a light heavyweight contest between in the red corner, the Unbelievably Reverend, John Packer, Bishop of Ripon & Leeds, known to his followers simply as 'The Bish' and in the blue corner, the peoples favourite, local MP and heavily manicured, Julian 'Smiffy' Smith.  At the weigh-in 'The Bish' appeared out of shape, mixing his metaphors and even beginning a sentence with a preposition; whereas 'Smiffy' looked every inch the champ: 'I'm all over it' he said, 'The Bish is outclassed, I'll 'ave 'im in the fifth'.

'You can go to hell', shouted 'The Bish' and threw a limp left hook which almost knocked over a glass of holy water. The pair had to be separated in what, it has to be said, was an unseemly and ill-disiplined fracas.

Trouble at the weigh-in

The Pun had caught up with 'The Bish's' trainer earlier in the week and asked what special coaching he had done:
'It's not about trainin' see?' Said God, It's about diet; of course he has the lamb of God but added to that I've got my boy eating lots of fish on a Friday see, it's BRAIN food and there's no doubt that in the end he shall overcome'.

The fight began tentatively with 'The Bish' attempting to Lord it over the commoner 'Smiffy' but even in the first couple of rounds it soon became clear that 'The Bish's' arguments weren't going to stand up for long. 'The introduction of the welfare Cap is morally wrong,' he spluttered 'in fact I'm against ALL forms of contraception for those on benefits -  after all, where would the church be without poor people to bully guide?'

There was a bit of tussling on the ropes and a few low blows were exchanged but in the end 'Smiffy's' argument that the feckless should work and think for themselves  carried the biggest punch and ahead of prediction 'The Bish' went down in the third. 'Get up,' screamed trainer God from the corner, 'smite him like I showed ya, SMITE HIM'. In truth it never looked like he was going to get up again despite promises from God about a bigger house and the Bishopric of Bath & Wells.

A jubilant 'Smiffy' said afterwards 'I knew we was on a winner - e didn't train ard enough and e was never going to stay the distance - e put too much faith in a diet of fish - it's The Cod Delusion see?'

Smiffy celebrates his win

Polish attack victim admits 'My head got in the way'.

So the latest (reported) violence at 'Ripon's only nightclub' has hit the pages of the Harrogate Gazette. The victim of the 'totally unprovoked attack' was described as male, Polish (serves him right then!), wearing a black leather jacket and blue jeans, had a broken nose, a couple of black eyes and blood all over the front of his shirt.......The attackers were described as 'white & young'!!! Keep an eye out for them folks; they sound distinctive.

Nightclub owner, Christopher Ian's son said: 'They were all having a lovely time bless them, so I sold them another couple of alco poppy drinks each at almost no profit to myself'.