A Story from The Tube ...

[hopeful traveller]

After a spectacular interval act, the juries and voters had voted. The first votes came from NORTH GREENWICHitas, calling from Albania. One to Ireland. Two to Sweden. Three to United Kingdom. Four to France. Five to Spain. Six to Georgia. Seven to Germany. Eight to Bulgaria. Ten to F.Y.R. Macedonia. Twelve to.... Greece!

Bad start for Ken. But still 38 votes to come.

[GuyBarry]

"John's not doing too well," said Richard. "What did you think of that song of his - 'WOOD LANE' or whatever it was called?"
"Well, " said Ava, "it might have gone down better if it hadn't been spoken nervously in a New York Jewish accent."
"Do you know why Ireland selected a Woody Allen impressionist to represent them at Eurovision?"
"I haven't a clue. The selection panel must have been BARKING."
SIDE by side, they sat watching in increasing amazement.

[RobbieM]

Ken also had console himself that he hadn't got any votes yet. So he resorted to chocolate. Where there was inner pain, he always found that Smarties could sooTHE. ORANGE ONEs were the best.

[GuyBarry]

[Did you miss the three points that Albania gave to the UK?]

At last all the votes were in, and the winners, with an unprecedented 398 points, were Turkey! The leader of the Turkish groUP, NEY player ALPER TONsun[*], was delighted. Ken had managed to struggle up to 19th out of 26 with 23 points, and John was last with his single point from Albania.

[* I know we've had Alperton before but Alper is an actual Turkish name and nothing else seemed to fit.]

[The Orange One]

Just when the credits were rolling, the doorbell rang at Richard and Ava's once more. It was a Mr Miller, grandson of the famous Walt Disney, and he'd stayed there many years ago with Ralph Lauren, the fashion designer.

"I'm just passing through and I thought I'd say hi."
Richard was surprised, but proceeded to invite him to tea. Walt began to take out his money.
"Put the money away - you don't pay here. What would you like, WALT? HAM? STOW CENT! RALph Lauren was never so eager to pay. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to get here?"
"I had some trouble with a police officer on the train, Mr Ying Wei SOU, THRU ISLIP. He yelled with so mucH ANGER, LANES round the station sent in complaints."

[GuyBarry]

But up in Manchester, it was a different story. The four suspects had been taken to the local police station and were currently under interrogation.

"Good evening, gentlemen. As you may know by now, I am Inspector WARREN STREET, currently under secondment to Greater Manchester Police, and these are my colleagues Constables CHALFONT AND LATIMER. WES TACTON, you have been arrested on suspicion of a number of offences, including theft of a number of birds from London parks, theft of a car, illegal entry to a convent, impersonating a juror, and attempting to evade arrest by disguising yourself as part of an Azerbaijani singing group. Is Tacton your real name?"
"People know mE AS TACTON, but my name's actually WES THARROW."
"Tharrow sounds even less likely than Tacton."
"Well at least it's not WES TRUISLIP."
"Don't try to be funny."
"This is pretty serious," added LATIMER. "ROAD traffic offences are usually the worst we get to deal with here."

[Continuing - although I can't make a new post, there's no rule against extending old ones.]

As for Ken, his brief singing career was over and he was back in his old job sorting out parking spaces. He was currently hired by a company whose three directors insisted on being treated in strict order of seniority; firST JAMES'S PARKing space had to be allocated, then Peter's, and laST PAUL'S. There were also complicated arrangements for the staff; those with surnames UP TO N PARKed on the town side, the rest on the country side.
"What's the first letter of your name, please?" asked KEN.
"'TIS H."
"TOWN side, please. And your name, sir?"
"Phil TUFNELL."
"PARK on that side, please. You wouldn't happen to be the famous former cricketer of that name, would you?"
"Yes. Are you KEN NINGTON, the famous former singer?"
"No, I'm plain old Ken Sington, car park attendant." (He didn't like being reminded.) "I remember you - you were a left-arm sPINNER, weren't you?"
"That's right. Do you get many cricketers parking in here?"
"No, but quite a few footballers. We've had people playing at WEMBLEY PARKing here."

But what about John? Despite his abysmal performance at the contest, he had had an amazing run of luck. He had been talent-spotted by an American impresario, ED G. WARE, who was attending and happened to be a huge Woody Allen fan. Immediately after the contest he was whisked down to Ed's London office. Surrounding the door was a huge MARBLE ARCH with the inscription "ED G. WARE: ROAD to fortune. ED G. WARE: ROAD to fame" [that should satisfy the purists!].

"Can I pour you a drink?" asked Ed.
"Thanks!" said John. "This is GREAT PORT."
"LAND STREETs ahead of the other acts when you sign with me," said Ed. "You'll be performing in front of KINGS. BURY your misgivings - your act is like GOLD."
"ER... S. GREEN has also offered to take me on."
"So what's the deal with this S. Green guy?"
John's friend STEPNEY GREEN had offered to manage him once, but it had been a disaster. Still, it was useful as a bargaining chip. "He'll take twenty per cent."
"I'll take ten."
"Do we have a deal?"
"My word is my BOND. STREETs ahead you'll be, like I said. You'll appear in front of QUEENS - BURY your misgivings! Tell you what - I'll take you out to dinner at my favourite restaurant."

He ordered a bottle of BordeaUX, BRIDGE rolls and some butter, but seemed quite familiar with Ethel, the waitress. "I'm not too keen on the LAMB, ETH, NOR THe pork, so I'll go for the beef," said Ed. "What do you want, John?"

John thought back to when Richard had spontaneously started to CLAP: "HAM." NORTHerners like him were used to plain food.

[I'm just going to carry on until someone stops me!]

Meanwhile, Richard and Ava had decided to take their new guest Walt for a drive in the country. On the radio, they listened to the London traffic news from aristocratic reporter Charles ColquHOUN.

"SLOW WESTbound traffic on the A13 heading into London, " said ColquHOUN. "SLOW EASTbound traffic on the A4 heading into London."
"Aren't you pleased to be out of all of that?" said Richard. "Just listen to Charlie ColquHOUN: SLOW. CENTRAL London is grinding to a halt."

They drove into a HOLLOW, A 'Y' ROAD junction ahead of them. They found a spot by the WOODSIDE, PARKing the car underneath a tall ELM. PARKed safely, they walked into the WOOD. GREEN shoots were everywhere and they saw a figure in the hillside carved out of CHALK. FARMers were busy laying SNARES. BROOKs babbled around them and in the distance they saw SHEPHERDS. BUSHes surrounded them on all sides, and a BLACK HORSE, ROADworthy as any car, cantered down the path alongside them.

"That's a biG ANTS' HILL," said Walt.

[RobbieM]

"Indeed" said Richard. "Ants tend to gather around this area - this is where those having picnics tend to hang around, and the ants are attracted to the crumbs. Look at that discarded roll - perhaps it wasn't tasty enough. I blame it on the BAKERS."
TREE Trunks of fallen elms were all over the place...

[GuyBarry]

But let's not forget about Don, who was now a broken man. He had escaped from prison to be with his beloved Ken, who had abandoned him in Scotland and gone back to being a parking attendant. He had found his experiences in the NORTH HARROWing, to say the lEAST. COTErie who'd previously surrounded him in the criminal world had abandoned him as well.

He headed for LEICESTER, SQUAREly determined to put the past behind him. On his way through Yorkshire he crossed a lonely MOOR, GATEd from the rest of the world, occupied by a monastic order. Things looked BLACK. FRIAR Stephen, head of the order, suddenly accosted him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" asked the friar.
"RAY NERSLANE," said Don, uttering the first name that came into his head. "I'm heading SOUTH - WAR Knows no boundaries."
"You're in the military then?"
"Yes," lied Don. "I'm emBARKING on a secret mission. You see that TOWER?"
"HILLside one, you mean?"
"I'm stationed there. Can't tell you why."

The scene moves back to Manchester and the interrogation room. Suddenly a message came over the two-way radio. "M61 towards PRESTON - ROAD traffic accident. Constable Chalfont please report for duty."

PC Chalfont was replaced by PC FINCHLEY, ROAD accidents not normally being amongst his responsibilities. Although the neWEST, FINCHLEY was clearly the sharpest of the interrogators. At lEAST FINCHLEY looked a little less intimidating.

"Police here in the NORTH ACT ON evidence, not hearsay," said FINCHLEY. "CENTRAL to our case is the fact that you were seen impersonating a London park-keeper, trying to capture birds. Is this right?"
"RAVENS COURT PARK-keepers," said Wes. "Sometimes pufFINS BURY PARK-keepers though."
"You even captured a rare GOLD HAWK - "
"ROAD traffic accident more serious than believed," came the disembodied voice. "Multiple vehicles involved. All officers report for duty."

Over at the car park, Ken had another interesting customer, who arrived in an Austin Metro. "Your name, please?"
"I'm Doctor fOSTER." (LEYland cars don't turn up often, thought Ken.)
"Not the Doctor Foster who went to GLOUCESTER?"
"ROADworks on the M5 stopped that." (He'd heard the quip so many times he had a ready answer for it.) "Do you know where I can buy a dress for my wife AnnaBEL?"
"SIZE? PARK over there, sir, and I'll think about it."
"OK. By the way, what team do you support?"
"TOTTENHAM."
"HA! LEt's see if we manage to overtake you this season." He thrust a piece of paper into Ken's hand and drove off. It said "I support WEST BROM. P.T.O." Nervously, Ken turned the paper over... but before he could read the other side, he was distracted by a driver smashing his car with a HAMMER. SMITHereens were flying all over the place. [*]
"What are you doing?" asked Ken.
"It's an insurance sCAM. DENT OWN vehicle, then claim the other driver did it."

[* That's the second "Hammersmith", in case it's required.]

Back to the country walk...
"Whereabouts are we now?" asked Walt.
"This is the NORTH WOOD. HILLS obscure the view, but the south wood is over there," said Ava. "Do you go out walking much in the States?"
"No, but I play golf on the NORTH GREEN, WICHita."
Suddenly they were distracted by two men with a large package to deLIVER. POOLS, TREE Trunks and other obstacles were getting in the way.
"DudLEY!"
"TONy!"
"How much does this package weigh, DudLEY?"
"TONS, TONE."
"But it's all PADDING - TONs of it."
"I know it's all PADDING, TONy.[**] Where are we taking it?"
"Up to those SHEPHERDS. BUSH!"
"MARKET day today, is it?" asked Dudley, narrowly avoiding the bush that Tony had helpfully pointed out. His footing went slightly asKEW.
"GARDEN Supplies, I think."

[** All duplicate names covered now!]

Meanwhile, Ed had got John his first booking - a spot on the cable TV chat show "BoB RIX TONight". He'd never actually heard of the host, Bob Rix, but he was pleased to see that one of the other guests was the former boxer Ricky HATTON. CROSSing his fingers for good luck, he listened for his cue.
"And now let's welcome John!" (Applause.) "John, my first question - what is the English letter corresponding to the Greek letter CHI?"
"G?"
"WELL, no. Try again - maybe you'll leARN."
"O? S?"
"GROVEl and I'll tell you."
This certainly wasn't what John was expecting. What sort of humiliation was this meant to BE? CON! TREE-like, he stood there speechless.
"I'm only kidding. Tell me the capital of Norway and then have another go."
"oSLO. AN E?"
"SQUARE one, please. That's an incorrect answer."
He had accidentally wandered onto the set of a new game show that was taking place in the next studio. Not an auspicious start...

[GuyBarry]

[I hope RobbieM will forgive me for breaking the rules with this consecutive post, but I really had to get the whole story finished.]

The scene returns to a Yorkshire moor. "So what's the name of this monastery, and how did you come to run it?" asked Don, his spirits
still at their loWEST.
"MINSTER Abbey," said the friar. "I used to live in Neyland in west Wales, a lot further SOUTH. HARROWing experiences meant I had to leave,
but I could at lEAST PUT NEYland behind me and start a new life here."
"I'll come clean," said Don. "I'm not a soldier - I'm an escaped criminal. Can you give me sanctuary here?"

Meanwhile in Manchester, with all the police out on road accident duty, the four suspects had been locked together in a cell.
"Well that's a fine mess you've got us into, Wes," said Colin. "None of this would have happened if that teacher hadn't given warfarin to the
school's pet CANARY."
"WHARF water was what he was supposed to give," said Wes. "What an idiot - he couldn't even spell 'warfarin'."
"I've never been in a police station before," said Stan. "I've only seen those American cop shows where they say things like 'EARL - SCOUR
The building'."
"Well, let's have a BAR ON 'SCOUR The building', please," said Roy. "This isn't America, and we're not on TV."

At the car park, Ken had more difficult customers to deal with. "Name, please?"
This customer was one of the sloWEST. "BOURNE."
"PARK over there please."
"I don't understand this alphabetical system. Where would someone called HYDE PARK?"
"CORNER of the yard."
Finally Ken had a chance to look at the other side of the note left by Dr Foster after he'd put in his two penN'ORTH.
"WEMBLEY tickets available," it said. "Phone 020-7946 0128."
Ken had always dreamed of playing at WEMBLEY - CENTRAL defence was his position. To get a seat there would be a dream come true. He didn't
care that someone was trying to make a fast BUCK - HURST, HILL[*] and other great players of the past were his heroes. And what if it was an
appearance by his beloved TOTTENHAM? COURT ROAD in Eltham, where he grew up, would be proud of him.
But back to the present. "Name, please?" "KILBURN." "PARK there, please..."

[* I confess that calling Jimmy Hill a "great player of the past" is stretching things a bit!]

Back on the country walk, Walt had a few questions for Ava. "I don't think I know your surname, Ava. Do you prefer the town or the country?"
"It's SUDBURY. TOWN life has become rather dull recently."
"So, Ava SUDBURY, HILL-walking appeals to you more? What's the date?"
"It's SeptemBER. MOND..."
"SEYchelles are nice at this time of year," said Walt, before Ava could finish saying "Monday".

John had a booking at a top comedy club in EUSTON, "SQUARE World", named after the classic Michael Bentine show. He was between two up-and-
coming new double acts, "HARROW AND WEALDSTONE" and "TOTTERIDGE AND WHETSTONE". (The names sounded oddly familiar to him, but he couldn't
work out why.) Also on the bill was "Professor C.R. OXLEY", who gave spoof historical lectures, and another comic from the NORTH, OL
Thompson, who said he was going to PUT NEYBRIDGE on the map. (Neybridge didn't exist - it was a fictional version of the town where he grew up.)
John put on his trademark glasses, walked out on stage and hoped for the best...

And so our story ends. Don decided to put his criminal past behind him and become a monk. Wes was sentenced to five years for theft of birds
from Her Majesty's parks, with Colin and Stan getting lesser sentences. (Roy was acquitted as there was no case against him.) Ken got tickets
for the FA Cup Final at Wembley where Tottenham beat West Brom 3-0. After a whirlwind romance, Walt took Ava back to America and married her. Richard went back to his Boy Scouts, and John was booked to play the part of Woody Allen in a forthcoming biopic, "I Don't Want to Be There When it Happens".

And they all (except Wes, Colin and Stan) lived happily ever after!