GOOD evening my friends. This is Olde Phillpotte calling from his cave deep in the forests of Battenhall.
Gather round the blazing Yule log and find comfort in my humble abode. Come partake of bountiful ale and flesh, then be minded to hear tidings of the future that I bring in great store.
But first, I crave your indulgence - pray tarry awhile as I pause and brush some tobacco ash from the hem of my favourite ermine-trimmed dressing gown, but taking care to prevent any residue tarnishing the gold leaf inlay on my favourite furry slippers that were a gift from the King Of Siam.
Sorry about that but I just wanted to create the right mood for this year's Olde Phillpotte's Predictions. So, with the moon riding the midwinter heavens, and the cry of the banshee ringing like the call of a banshee, here is the month-by-month verdict for the Year of our Lord, 2002. Step closer and gaze into my crystal ball... fear not, this is no time for faint hearts!
January. A flying saucer lands on Worcester's Quayhead. It transpires that the longed-for circular construction has joined the Great Wall of China and the Grand Canyon as one of the few landmarks on earth that are visible from space. Two small entities emerge from the disc-shaped craft and ask to be taken to Derek Prodger. The councillor is brought to the riverside and, accompanied by the aliens, walks back to the Guildhall up White Elephant Way, formerly Copenhagen Street.
February. As saucer-mania sweeps the city, reports pour in of a strange creature being sighted stalking the roads around Ronkswood. "I've never seen the like in all my born days, says a witness. It had huge black feet, long, pointed head with a silver bobble on top, and kept making 'ello-ello-ello-ello' noises. Calm returns to the streets after it is confirmed that the mystery being is in fact a beat policeman, a species long believed to have been extinct.
March. Enormous holes are discovered in the skirting boards of houses between Upton-upon-Severn and Tewkesbury. Investigators are baffled until it is becomes apparent that families of escaped capybaras, desperate to escape the cold, have fled the riverbank and sought sanctuary in nearby houses. Despite warnings from the environmental health department, children persist in leaving out 40-pound lumps of cheddar for their new-found giant rodent friends.
April. On the first of the month, the Sealed Knot announces plans to stage a re-enactment of the Battle Of Cripplegate, the decisive encounter of the Worcester Uncivil Wars that had notoriously turned father against son, brother against brother, during the last century. The organisation chooses a greenfield site at the city's Grove Farm for a spectacular event expected to attract thousands. Authentic banjo music of the period is to be supplied by Ebenezer Barlowe's Bawdy Balladeers.
May. A minor earthquake, measuring 1.5 on the Richter Scale sends shockwaves through Worcester. The epicentre, believed by scientists to be in the High Street, causes minor structural damage, but the tremors are still sufficient to move the Guildhall drinks cabinet by three feet. A team of experts are drafted in and report the destruction of three bottles of whisky, a badly-cracked Liebfraumilch and a crate of Babycham so severely damaged it has to be put down.
June. News of what becomes known as The Great Cabinet Catastrophe reaches Brussels, where a number of councillors are working their fingers to the bone, all the hours God sends, on a fact-finding mission. On being told the news, one councillor, fighting back the tears says: I just can't believe it. One minute the cabinet was there... and the next it wasn't. It's like when Kennedy was assassinated I'll always remember where I was the moment it happened.
July. A youth is wrestled to the floor by a group of undercover pensioners after he is spotted throwing an empty food container into the Severn. A description of the teenager plastered in spots, grunting and running about on all fours - is circulated to 65 Commando unit of the feared Grey Wolves. After watching the target swearing and belching for a few minutes, the crack squad moves in. The pensioners are later charged with assault but released on bail.
August. A major pub chain buys Worcester Cathedral for a reported £12m. The city landmark will be closed for 18 months while refurbishments are carried out and then renamed The Font And Gherkin. Punters will be able to enjoy the hospitality of the Bishop's Bar, the Cloisters Saloon and Wulstan Suite. A spokesman for Burpe and Gherkin Ltd, a chain of theme cathedrals, insists: We'll be keeping the best of the past but combining it with the new. After all, we need a proactive product in a niche marketplace these days.
September. A leading supermarket company makes a bid for the land at present occupied by the King's School, Worcester. The company wants to demolish the existing buildings and replace them with a single warehouse measuring 200 yards wide by half-a-mile long. In exchange, the company will rebuild King's on a brownfield site at Dines Green. A council spokesman says: This is the chance of a lifetime. I can't imagine any reason why this request should be turned down.
October. Huntingdon Hall's Chris Jaeger announces he aims to embark on a sponsored slim to raise funds for the cash-strapped building. The 45-stone roly-poly impresario tells reporters: "As you know, the Huntingdon is having major structural repairs, particularly the stage. Engineers acting for the contractors have advised me to lose a bit of weight so that the replacement boards will not be placed under any undue stress. It's a dirty job but someone's got to do it.
November. A mysterious, unsigned letter warns the authorities of a plot to blow up the multi-storey car park in Friar Street, Worcester. A Beefeater is sent to search the cellars beneath the Lychgate and a number of men are arrested as they prepare to light a fuse leading to scores of gunpowder-filled barrels. Under torture at the Guildhall being forced to listen to a council meeting confessions are quickly extracted from the prisoners.
December. Early snows turn Worcestershire into a winter wonderland. High on the Malverns, giant footprints are discovered. A team of experts maintains that they belong to an enormous, undiscovered creature until Evening News weatherman Paul Damari admits the tracks belong to him. However, the episode has already gripped the public's imagination... and so the Legend of the Indomitable Showman passes into folklore.
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