The Superhero Saves the Day... Probably

Then… suddenly…!

No… hang on….

Then with all the haste and alacrity of a Public Inquiry she strolled into action.

He trembled in terror. Well, there was a frisson of irritation. ‘Yet again,’ the supervillain, Upstart Naughtyman, snorted, looking down. ‘Yet again have you thwarted my plans for world domination. Curses!’

Fixed-Penalty Notice Woman stood for a moment, arms crossed, as she glared down upon Naughtyman as he tried to find something in the sub-clauses of the fixed Penalty that would enable him to evade justice yet again. ‘It says here I have to pay a fine for attempting world domination without the necessary permits?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled to see him cower and tremble in the face of the notice. ‘There are…’ she added, ‘also some concerns about the health and safety standards at your secret volcanic island lair.’

‘What? How did you discover all this?’ Naughtyman felt his plans crumbling all around him.

‘You had to apply for planing permission for your secret island, didn’t you?’

‘Curses, foiled again.’ Naughtyman knew there must be some way he could complete his plans for world domination without some interfering superhero thwarting him. Last time it had been VATInspectorman and his sidekick PAYEboy who stopped him. Thwarting his plans to build a secret nuclear-missile submarine base in Tewkesbury, when they discovered inconsistencies in his VAT returns. Also that he’d been paying his horde of devoted minions less than the minimum wage. But, now this…. He looked up into the uncompromising eyes of Fixed-Penalty Notice woman and he knew he’d failed again.

‘My job here is done!’ Fixed-Penalty Notice woman said. ‘So, if you’d just countersign this receipt for my legitimately-incurred expenses. I can be on my way to fight for truth, justice and the bureaucratic way!’

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[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

From East of Walsall

She came out of the wild unknown lands east of Walsall. It was sad that she knew too many secrets from the wild lands. That she knew how to conjure and make the politicians do her bidding with only a handful of video files and a single USB memory stick.

It was said too that she knew the secrets arts of the accordion and just what to do with a high court judge and a bath filled with lukewarm custard. Some even suggested she understood every taxation exception rule ever made into law.

Such is the stuff of legend.

Those of us who met her, knew she had a way with words. She also understood several other far more interesting ways with several lengths of rope, a cast iron bed frame and an ostrich feather. But those of us who knew that, also knew not to mention it to anyone. Especially not to the journalists that hung around her, sniffing for exclusives and tales of bedroom romps with the great and the good, and some politicians as well.

Of course, it could not last. These things never do, despite what the pharmaceutical companies promise. Soon, her looks began to fade and her dexterity with the accordion was not what it was during her heyday. Other, younger, women came along. Some arrived even from the legendary lands of Tewkesbury. A place where the women are women and the men are left in whimpering heaps by the side of the road.

Soon she was gone and never heard of ever again.

Although, there are some who say there is a retirement bungalow down on the south coast somewhere, where late at night if you listen carefully you can hear the strains of an accordion on the sea breeze. If the wind is right, they say, you can just make out the tell-tale scent of a bath slowly filling with lukewarm custard.

 

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

Headline Acts

Potemkin Fuzzpedal was once the UK's most famous nightclub and workingmen's club act during the heyday of those institutions. At least, before TV and social changes brought about the decline of those establishments. Until then, Potemkin Fuzzpedal and his Performing Accountants; a song, a dance and an internal audit were the biggest draw on that particular circuit.

For the audiences, it was the sheer thrill of live accountancy performed on stage – usually without the aid of a safety net - that was so exciting. Especially so in the workingmen's clubs. Places where accountancy was regarded as something beyond the pale and even a mere invoice was regarded with suspicion and dread.

Back in those days most people, the working class especially, lived in an almost total cash economy. Therefore, the use of accountants was virtually unknown. So to see a real one, especially performing on stage, possibly – and daringly – with one of the new electronic calculators, was a dazzling and riveting spectacle. It conveyed the full glamour of accountancy to a mass audience for the first time.

In fact, most of today's top-flight glamorous celebrity accountants say they were inspired to tread the accounting boards through an early teenage exposure to Fuzzpedal and his dancing auditors. Some even talking of their own first fumbling attempts at cash-book reconciliation under the bedcovers late at night. Often before falling into a restless sleep filled with dreams of VAT returns and tax schedules.

All in all then, today's glamorous world of performance accountancy, where some of the big name partnerships regularly sell out the world's biggest arenas has a great deal to thank Potemkin Fuzzpedal for. Otherwise – who knows – accountancy could still be – unbelievable as it sounds now – a mere profession practised in cramped offices by unglamorous people who know little of the fame, fortune and celebrity status now enjoyed by today's headlining accountancy stage acts.

 

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]

Rock 'n' Roll Rebel

Bicuspid Tremoloarm, at first, took very seriously Bert Weedon's advice to 'Play with yourself Every Day', and soon developed the strength in his wrists to have a go at playing the guitar.

Soon, after a mere twelve years of daily practice, Tremoloarm could – sometimes – manage nearly a whole G major chord. Luckily for him, however, it was the age of punk and so musical ability was even more unnecessary than ever in the popular music scene. Unfortunately, though, Bicuspid was the son of Lord Molar Tremoloarm, owner of most of the south east of the Untied Kingdom, which – almost – put a crimp in Bicuspid's claim to impeccable working class credentials, especially when he – at least, initially - changed his name to Steve Wank.

Luckily, however, the punk scene soon collapsed, becoming little more than a form of street-level fancy dress, thus allowing Bicuspid to reclaim his name and to make yet another attempt to learn at least one more of the three chords necessary to be taken seriously as a rock musician.

His next band: The Immanent Tax Returns, did however have a hit single – the almost memorable I dream of Double-Entry, a song penned by Bicuspid himself when he realised that – after all – music was not his first love and that he yearned for accountancy.

However, his traditional aristocratic family looked down on such upstart careers as accountancy, the Tremoloarm's were descended from a long line of court musicians and it was rumoured that Voleskin Tremoloarm a court madrigal singer was the real father of the child that went on to become one of England's - far too many to remember - king Henrys.

So, faking his own drug-fuelled death, by ingesting seventeen packets of Fisherman's Friends at once, Bicuspid Tremoloarm was able to escape the constraints of the traditional rock 'n' roll career and follow his dream to explore the wild, untamed shores of accountancy.

The Weasel Code

As is often said, especially by those no-one has asked for their opinion, that there are some moments in the affairs of humankind that are just far too dull for anyone to bother remembering.

However, the Weasel Code Incident – as it became known – is not one of them, which is a bit obvious really; otherwise, no-one would have bothered remembering it, let alone giving it such a memorable name.

As for the weasel, Benjy, why he in particular is associated with this particular incident is one of those twists of fate that make reality seem far-fetched and way beyond the imaginings of mere fiction writers.

It all began back in the early years of WWII. As is now well-known, but at the time was one of the greatest secrets of the war, the Allies had cracked the German’s ultra-secret – and they though ultra-secure – Enigma code. However, even to this day, very few knew that the Allies had also cracked the super secret German Weasel Code, through the use of their captured German code weasel, Benjy.

Benjy had been the highly-trained code weasel of a German general captured outside Tobruk in the latter stages of the desert war. Unfortunately for the German war machine, the General, Herr Kaput, had not had the time to feed Benjy the fatal dose of rice and treacle prepared for each code weasel to prevent it falling into enemy hands before capture.

What had not been revealed up until now, however, was that it was a raid on the general’s headquarters specifically mounted to capture a live code weasel by the SAS that brought Benjy into Allied hands.

The SAS, the Special Accountancy Service, had for some time been aware of the number of orders and invoices the German army generated for supplies of rice and treacle and Allied intelligence suspected that this was something to do with the use of code weasels by the Germans.

Before the outbreak of war, some Polish mathematicians had speculated that any code generated by weasels fed rice and treacle would be virtually unbreakable. It was this idea that the German high command had noticed and copied. This made it essential that the Allies capture a code weasel as early as possible in the war, so they could break this code.

AS we all now know, radar was an offshoot of the British search for a reliable rice and treacle detector. The early experimental radar could – of course – detect when a weasel went pop, but by then it was obviously too late to capture that weasel, at least without a dustpan and brush. Therefore, the Allied boffins decided to begin work on the rice and treacle detector (RAT).

To disguise the use of the RAT in the desert war, the Allies started to call their soldiers The Desert Rats, thus hoping to fool the Axis intelligence to think that any mention of the RAT was in fact just a reference to ordinary Allied troops and therefore of no particular vital intelligence value.

Disguised as a German logistic corps rice and treacle delivery unit, a SAS squad managed to infiltrate General Kaput’s headquarters and lure Benjy away from the coding room using an imitation female weasel assembled by the boffins back in Britain.

Once Benjy was in their grasp the British undercover accountants created a diversion to cover their escape by deliberately misfiling several hundred German infantry invoices to keep the German soldiers busy and created a smokescreen to conceal their exfiltration from the German HQ by setting fire to a yet un-reconciled cashbook.

Once safely back behind British lines Benjy was handed over to military intelligence who rushed the code weasel back to the UK , never once accidentally leaving him on the train when they got off to change trains, which was another first for British military intelligence, a feat of diligence that was never once repeated in the post-war years.

Once Benjy was back at Bletchley Park and safely ensconced in the code shed it was only a matter of days before the Allies could decode all of the Germans most secret military intelligence traffic and so the war ended much, much sooner than would have otherwise been the case.

Latest Dining-Out News

There are fads and fashions in dining out as there are in many other fields of human experience. It will be interesting to see if the new trend taking off in metropolitan restaurants is just such a fad, or if it is something that will – once the fuss has died down – become a staple of the eating out experience.

World-famous TV Chef, Slash 'Chainsaw' Massacre, opened his latest restaurant last week. It lies just off the M42 in a quiet rural village. Housed in a converted abattoir, it still contains many of the original machines and devices used in its former role. However, now there is seating for up to 200 patrons, as well as a special function room catering for wedding parties and so forth.

Service is quick and efficient, although patrons should be aware that the restaurant itself is usually fully booked for up to 3 or 4 weeks in advance.

Once seated, diners receive a full menu replete with this season's currently fashionable dishes.

To start, I chose arm of geography teacher, served on a bed of shredded exercise books, garnished with the sauce made from slowly boiled school desks. My dining companion, however, had a much lighter starter of TV comedian’s toes barbecued over a hot TV set, served with a sauce made from the ink of rejected sitcom scripts, which she found very toothsome, if a little lacking in humour. My geography teacher, I found cooked to perfection with even the leather elbow patches from his jacket both soft and tender.

For the main course, I chose tender roast accountant pie with shredded VAT receipts. The crust of the pie, made from some of the finest hand-written invoices was light and fluffy, whilst the accountant itself was young and tender with the bitterness of the boiled calculator complimenting it all perfectly.

My dinner guest chose stir-fried media-studies graduate, whose tender un-worked flesh was served in a batter of media-industry delusion and served with a side-dish of TV programme ideas which she felt was somewhat over-boiled and lacking in any real worth.

For dessert, my companion choose the lightest of dishes, some whipped up politician’s promises served with the cream of focus group research, which she found both bland and, eventually, completely unsatisfying as it seem to consist mainly of hot air which vanished into nothingness, the further down the dish she ventured.

However, for dessert, I chose streamed TV talent show hopeful, served with what turned out to be a rather sickly over-sugared custard of sob story where the saltiness of the (fake?) tears did little to disguise the general sickliness of the whole experience. It was a somewhat disappointing end to what had – up until then - been a rather enjoyable evening.

The restaurant is recommended, proving that diners exercise some caution over their choice of dessert and do not mind the sound of chainsaws coming from the kitchen every now and then as the evening progresses.

Young Love’s First Audit

When you are young and in love and you have a box full of invoices to share between you, it feels as though there can be no end to the good times. There is nothing quite as exciting to a young man as seeing a sexy young girl running her fingers through his cashbook, or for a young girl to witness the first bloom of manly pride when a young man achieves his first trial balance.

Then there are the days of filing when it seems that a single filing cabinet can contain the hopes, dreams and memos of all that young love can offer.

Even then, there is always the hesitation and uncertainty of a couple as they finally build up the courage to undertake their first audit together. Some times, they will experiment, or maybe they’ll prefer the woman taking the lead and the man using the calculator as in the normal way these things are done. Sometimes they are too scared that they could be doing it wrong, or that they will not be able to come to a mutually-satisfying balance.

However, once they have their pencils sharpened and they sit down at the desk, ready to begin, then all the nerves and the worries fade into nothingness as he watches her slowly… sexily… sensuously… opening the ledger.

The Times of Legends and Accountancy

So let us take arms against this sea of invoices and take all these memos of the seven kingdoms into our stationery cupboard of destiny. I have seen how the Management Accountants are massing on the borders of, this, our fair land, on their mighty auditing steeds ready to sweep down across the plains and murder, rape, pillage and fully-audit all the villages and hamlets that lie open and defenceless against them.

Once, under the last kings, this was a mighty land with some of the most tightly-audited villages and hamlets with a taxation structure that meant all the castles of the land had accountancy departments that were feared in all the surrounding kingdoms.

There were times when the invoicing procedures of this kingdom struck fear into the kings of the surrounding lands, who knew they did not have the cash reserves that could withstand a siege by some of this land's most feared Knights of the Audit, some of whom had been training on their calculators and before they could even walk, let alone reconcile a cash book.

Then though came the dark days, the dark years, when the land was captured and taken over by the Dark Wizards of Financial Services who cast their dread spells upon the land and laid waste to all the taxation regulations that the kingdom had built up over the centuries, until even the very petty cash boxes were ripped asunder and left empty and desolate on the deserts of what had been a once proud Balance of Trade.

[And then came the Dark Knights of the VAT and the evil mages and wizards of the Inland Revenue to bring the dark times upon these once-fair lands and our world would never be the same again.

Wartime Secrets Revealed

Many people have, no doubt, heard of the SAS. However, very few have any real knowledge of what really goes on within this - by necessity - very secretive organisation.

It all began, as most such things do, during the dark days of war. It was during WWII, just after the siege of Tobruk that the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, was shocked to discover that no-one really knew how much the infamous tins of 'bully beef' really cost at battlefront prices compared to the Axis equivalents. So, then, after a series of top level Most Secret meetings involving the top brass of the armed forces, cabinet politicians and the most senior civil servants, the SAS - the Secret Accountancy Service - was formed.

Initially, it was intended to work behind the enemy lines, conducting secret audits of the Axis powers’ accounts. However, vital as some of this information was in streamlining the Allied accountancy procedures, it was still not enough.

Then, one night, as he was awaiting a vital air-drop of calculating machines deep inside occupied France, Major Soggy-Biscuit of the SAS hit upon the idea of introducing fraudulent expense claims into the German accounting system.

After receiving enthusiastic approval from the British government, including a message of full support from Winston Churchill himself, Major Soggy-Biscuit in June 1942 inserted a false claim for travel expenses into the German accountancy system.

The results were devastating as the normally hyper-efficient German accountancy ground to a halt as the discrepancy was found to be unreconcilable. Consequently, with the German army, navy and air force all unable to respond during the auditing period, the British and their allies were able to mount several successful commando and air raids virtually unopposed.

[….]

[Taken from How the SAS Began included in Tales of the Unexpurgated]

Bank Robber

Then there were the things....

You know the ones?

No, not the purple ones with the attachment used for detecting honest politicians that has a tendency to rust and seize up from disuse, but the other one.

Well, anyway, I'm sure you'd recognise one if you saw it, especially someone of your rather lax reputation in the area of experimental rudeness.

Anyway, as I wasn't saying, there should be no reason at all why we shouldn't get through this current economic downturn with the shirts more or less in the vicinity of our backs, at least - despite the somewhat disapproving tone some people adopt, blackmail does tend to provide a steady income stream.

Furthermore, unlike other slightly illegal activities there is much less of that running around with guns shouting at people business that tends to leave you with a headache... and the occasional bullet hole.

After all, there comes a point where armed bank robbery does become more trouble than it is worth, especially when the wife keeps complaining about how many stockings you keep nicking from her underwear drawer and her theory that you may be using them for more than just disguises when robbing banks.

Especially the black fishnet ones....

The Rucksack

Still, I thought, y'know... maybe she did have a point. There were usually a couple of points of interest with her, especially on colder days, but I would want you to think I always stared... not too much anyway.

They were magnificent though, especially in the bath when she got them all soapy and leant over your face and....

Anyway, where was I ?

Oh, yes, she had a point. After all, we had the money. No-one had come looking for it. No-one seemed to want it.

What else could we do?

There it was, thousands and thousands of pounds in fifties in thousand-pound bundles. A rucksack filed to the brim with them.

Neither of us could bring ourselves to touch them, let alone count them. It was as though while they were there in the rucksack they had nothing to do with us, that we were innocent, uninvolved... which we were of course.

But, like I said. She had a point.

Then lying there on the bed next to her in that hotel room with that bag of money on the bed between us, I got quite a point myself too.

So, it was sometime, well a couple of times later, after we'd showered together too, and after she'd done that thing with the soap and her points of considerable interest, we lay back down on the bed.

The rucksack was still there... and so was all the money it contained.

All we could do is look from the bag of money to each other and back to the money again... wondering....

Britain’s Latest Celebrity Icon

Bilston Shenanigan is nowadays known for her hedonistic self-indulgent party girl lifestyle, although at one time she was more famous for being the offspring of leading celebrity accountant Nigel ‘the Audit’ Shenanigan and the world’s most beloved PR agent, Sputnik Treefrog.

Eventually film, comedy and rock stars wore out their welcome on the celebrity circuit, mainly through not being even interesting enough for the celebrity photo magazines. Even after they had either fallen out of their dress in front of the cameras for the umpteenth time, or hit one of the paparazzi once too often, or been photographed with someone not suitable for their audience demographic or caught with someone not of that season’s fashionable sexual orientation the stars of yesteryear and last year’s media events seemed so boring to their audience.

Consequently, the search was on for some people who could be made into stars in order to fill the pages of the various Waiting Room magazines with photos of those stars doing purportedly interesting things, or – at least - apparently on their way to do glamorous things in evening dresses that were on the very cusp of falling off. Quite naturally, the glamorous hedonistic 24-hour non-stop party atmosphere of accountancy fitted this bill almost to perfection.

Of course, the instigation of Celebrity Accountancy on Ice, as well as the most successful and biggest grossing film of all time Justice League of Accountancy had revealed the secret glamour world of accountancy to the masses. Accountancy immediately took off with the celebrity-fixated audience desperate for new stars to fill the void once filled by those - now - jaded and worn out film, TV, rock and reality show stars of yesteryear.

It was the internet release of a ‘stolen’ home video, however, that catapulted Bilston Shenanigan to worldwide fame. In the video, Bilston and two of her father’s accountants are seen engaging in – admittedly fully-consensual – double-entry bookkeeping and some of the most explicit cash book reconciliation ever seen on film.

Soon it seemed that Shenanigan could not go anywhere, do anything or even file her expenses without been chased and caught on camera by hordes of paparazzi, no doubt eager to get more candid shots of her engaged in some explicit accountancy practices.

Soon, however, it seemed that a calculator was that season’s ‘must-have’ fashion accessory and no Hollywood glamour couple could be seen out without at least one of them clutching some invoices as they made their way through the party crowds.

That year it seemed that every film up for an Oscar was in some way about accountancy and the crazy, glamorous world and lifestyles of accountants. It seemed every child wanted to grow up to be an auditor and tax receipts were the new black. Accountancy had arrived.

EU Equality Legislation Extended

Now the donkey may look somewhat askance at the dubious nature of your tax returns, but that is the danger of employing a donkey in your auditing department. However, recent research carried out by the Monkey Auditing Bureau has proved – many say conclusively – that monkeys are – overall – rather good at accountancy, with the obvious exception of the spider monkey, of course.

Since the EU most recent ruling that it is illegal to discriminate against any species of animal when offering employment, there has been a revolution – mostly a quiet revolution except for the howler monkeys that stood for parliament at the last election – in the employment sector. This can be seen especially in the number of rats and other vermin now entering the estate agency profession, something that has boosted the status of estate agents in the eyes of the public, moving them from the bottom of the list of likeable professions. Something similar has happened to journalism, where the actual number of monkeys with typewriters, thanks to new technology, has been diminishing rapidly over the last few decades, with most tabloid journalism nowadays produced by amoebas and other single-celled organisms and other such creatures that lack the higher brain functions.

Of course, those of us with an interest in politics are looking forward to the next general election where it seems – thanks to this new EU legislation - the UK could have its first-ever great bustard as prime minister, instead of at the moment where all three main political parties are all led by tits.

The Sensual Arts Of The Secret Accountancy Sect Exposed

Well, here we are at the very desk where Keypad Balancesheet first began to codify the secret sexual arts of the mysterious accountancy sect. Of course, everyone these days, thanks to the countless exposes in print and on film knows that the accountancy sect developed secret awesome sexual powers that made them not only irresistible to their chosen partners but enabled those selfsame sexual partners to achieve levels of sexual ecstasy not seen outside some of the more far-fetched porn video scenarios.

Of course, it was Balancesheet himself who first managed to penetrate the deepest secrets of double-entry, while developing the dexterous fingering techniques that could rifle through a whole heap of invoices into the sexual techniques that now make the world of accountancy so exotic and vibrant.

To those of us who can only ever dream of the sensual pleasures that can be found in stroking the keys of an eager calculator, or spend our days daydreaming of what it would be like to be entangled in the deepest recesses of a spreadsheet, laid out naked and waiting for our first entry, the world of erotic accountancy can seem more like a fantasy. However, for those, though, who penetrate deep into the sensual word of profit and loss and expenses incurred it must be like living the dream, even if there is a chance of your balance sheets ending up all sticky and smudged.

The Slight Singeing of the Quangos

Today the UK government will announce the creation of the Quango Immolation Authority, a quasi-autonomous government-funded agency that will look into ways of reducing the number of quangos in the UK.

Quangos were originally introduced into the UK’s system of government as a way of removing whole swathes of government, or semi-government, out of the reach of political interference and to stop politicians trying to mess with things (i.e. almost everything) they don’t understand.

However, with few natural auditing predators, and with politicians unwilling to cull anything that will divert blame for the inevitable governmental cock-ups away from themselves, the quangos soon spread to infest almost every area of the UK.

Left to itself, the Quango will just sit quietly producing reports and so forth that no-one ever reads whilst devouring vast swathes of government funding in order for it to grow, sometimes to an immense size. Despite having no apparent need even for it to exist, apart from a place of employment for the wives, husbands, partners, friends and relations of the politicians who first set it up, quangos seem almost indestructible. Destroy one and several more rise up to take its place, its staff, luxury office space and its expense accounts.

In the past, attempts to destroy quangos has resulting in them splitting into several smaller quangos and scurrying off into the dense undergrowth of governmental funding, there to gorge themselves all back to the around the same size as their original parent quango, thus leading to the current vast infestation of purposeless quangos now threatening to completely overwhelm this country.

Consequently, the government sees the creation of the – totally independent - Quango Immolation Authority as a way of reducing the number of quangos. However, the new head of the QIA has said that she sees the need for not just one, but several new QIAs. Each QIA should, she added, have the necessary expertise, staff, budget, and – quite possibly - purpose-built new office block in a prime central London location, each new QIA tasked with making sure one particular quango is not a waste of money and resources, and if it is, whether or not it should be split into several smaller quangos instead.

This way, the government believe, they will be able to divert the populace’s wrath at any future cock-up away from themselves completely, blaming either the quango itself for the cock-up, or the QIA for not doing more to prevent the quango from making the cock-up, thus ensuring the government suffers little or no potential electoral damage in consequence.

The SAS In WWII

Balaclava Stropweasel is – surprisingly - nowadays not quite as well-known as his exploits in the SAS* during WWII merit. For it was Stropweasel who led some of the most spectacular undercover behind-enemy-lines auditing raids of both the Desert and the Normandy campaigns which did much to help Britain win the war against the Nazis, all of which came in under budget with very few unforeseen expenses claimed.

It was assumed, early in the war, that the German army had some of the best battlefield accounting tactics in the world, especially in their use of the Blitzkrieg Auditzensplazten, which could identify, down to the last bullet and plate of battlefield-ready sauerkraut, just how much any single military action would cost.

However, it took someone with Stropweasel’s inherent military accountancy genius to realise just how damaging it would be for a small Allied unit to infiltrate behind the German military lines and intercept, alter, or even destroy the vital lines of receipts, invoices and petty cash books of the German army. For, such was the extremely disciplined nature of Wehrmacht accounting techniques that - as Stropweasel discovered, through a German Enigma signal decoded at Bletchley Park – once an entire German Armoured division was rendered immobile through the loss of one mid-ranking officer’s overnight billeting expenses claim.

However, it was the actions of Stropweasel’s squad during the early morning hours of D-Day that military historians credit for the successful Allied landings later that morning. Parachuted behind the enemy lines manning the Normandy coastline, Stropweasel’s six-man squad made their way – under cover of darkness to each of the defensive concrete bunkers on the beach known by its D-Day code name of Sword Beach.

Once at a bunker, Stropweasel himself – covered by the rest of his squad – would crawl on his hands and knees into the bunker and steal all the pencils he found in there, before making his escape undetected. These pencils were vital for the German defensive effort, because they were used to fill in the requisition forms used to keep a precise tally of every bullet, grenade and shell the German troops were issued from the storerooms and arsenals. Without such a suitably-completed requisition form the troops could only use the ammunition they already had been issued.

Consequently, this brave and daring action by Stropweasel’s squad meant that the Germans soon ran out of ammunition - and were unable to requisition any more - as the Allies landed, and were thus then easily overrun. For his bravery on that day Stropweasel won the Victoria Cross and – in a special ceremony – was also awarded the King’s Award for Accountancy.


*SAS – the Secret Accountancy Service.

The Female/Male Stoat Beguiler

Embrocation Disingenuous first became professor of Semi-Beguiled Stoat Contemplation in 1968. Back in those heady days of the late sixties, it seemed that the Summer of Love could almost belong to anyone with a tattered paperback of Blake's Complete works, a brace of Doors albums, a 10% deposit and, of course, a semi-beguiled stoat.

But, inevitably, the wide-eyed optimism of the sixties fell headlong into the comedown of the mid-70s. By then, it seemed obvious that Disengenous's - now seminal - work, The Female/Male Stoat Beguiler, an in-depth study of the relationship between the underwear of accountants and the price of eggs, became - to many - the work that most influenced the rise of what later became known as Feminist Theory.

It was not easy in the Sixties - despite the very generous grants available at the time - to find an adequate theory that would link all the then cutting-edge and vital social sciences. Feminism, Stoat-beguiling theory, accountancy and the study of the habits and practices of the tribes, groups, sub-cultures and so on that exploded onto the youth and teenage scene in the sixties all seemed - to the commentators of the time - to have nothing in common. It took a scholar of Disengenious's erudition, and blind disregard of the facts and evidence, to come up with a theory that could link them all, no matter how tenuous and flaky.

Of course, it was the Mods and the Rockers and their bank holiday rampages around the coastal towns of Britain who got all the tabloid publicity. But it was the secrecy, the underground nature of the accountants and the clubs where they practiced double-entry bookkeeping well into the early hours of the morning, their briefcases, and in some case very early examples of uninhibited calculator use that Disingenuous found fascinating. She was particularly fascinated by the fact that all the male accountants were men, and the female accounts were - on the whole - mostly women (except – of course – those specialising in corporate taxation). This became even more apparent to her when the craze for total stoat-beguilement swept through those underground accountancy clubs in the late summer of 1969.

Disingenuous was fascinated to discover that the female accountants in those secretive clubs would use methods of stoat beguilement that were very different to those utilised by the male accountants. Eschewing the need for any further research -as she said in a interview after the publication of The Female/Male Stoat Beguiler - 'in case I came across anything which would have contradicted my precious and wonderful theory' - she immediately began to formulate a synopsis and publicity material for the work that was to make her name.

In The Female/Male Stoat Beguiler, Disingenuous made the now commonplace - but then startling claim - that the methods of stoat beguilement used by the male accountants was not only in itself a manifestation of the male accountants’ domination over the female accountants, but that it was also symptomatic of the wider society as a whole and an expression of that society’s contempt for women. Claiming that her theory proved that the phallocentric male hegemony was demeaning and dismissive of all women, Disingenuous stated that women would never be free until they symbolically burned their stoat-beguiling mittens and refused to ever take part in 'such degrading spectacles ever again!'

From that day, forward the relationship between the sexes would never be as straightforward or unquestioning ever again, and it is Embrocation Disingenuous, and her The Female/Male Stoat Beguiler, that we can thank for the current state of harmonious equality and greater mutual understanding shared by both sexes in our modern world.

Celebrity Accountancy On Ice

Munchkin Coinslot came to our TV screens from the hectic glamorous world of internal auditing in order to bring her much needed professional experience to the judging panel of ITV’s hit new Saturday early evening show Celebrity Accountancy On Ice.

The show combines the now de-rigueur P-list celebrity, desperate for any work, up to and including panto and ads for the most downmarket couch potato deep-frozen swill emporium (which co-incidentally sponsors this very show), partnered by a professional accountant specialising in ice skating-based auditing, all in front of a judging panel and live audience with the now essential, and essentially-lucrative, TV audience phone poll.

Reconciling invoices, or even balancing a cash book, is quite a skill, especially when done whilst skating around an ice-ring. Therefore, it seems, a very popular part of the show are the so-called outtakes where – for example - a contestant forgets to carry the seven whilst engaged in skating backwards into her partner’s outstretched arms as the obligatory Ravel’s Bolero builds towards its climax.

The judging panel features Bile Tosspot, the most garrulously camp and pernickety piss-taking ‘talent’ show judge on the circuit whose acidic put-downs of contestants have already been declared illegally offensive in several European states is – quite obviously – the one the public have come to loathe (as per the script), while his foil, Munchkin Coinslot, always has a word or two of encouragement, even for those alleged ‘celebrities’ incapable of even filing an invoice whilst skating backwards at speed. The third judge, Rabbitty Airhead, is, of course, only there to show off her superbly-engineered cleavage whilst spouting the first piece of homespun pointless drivel that escapes her lips without the tedious voyage across the wide-open plains of her brain.

The show has been – of course – an instant success. Combining the skill and glamour of accountancy with the pointless expertise of ice-skating was a stroke of genius, as was the casting of the judging panel that combines the one the audience loves to hate going up against the one the audience love to love several times per episode as each pair of ice-stating auditor and celebrity stand there awaiting judgement on their technique.

Already commissioned for a further 10 series, and sold to 97 other countries, and Canada, it seems that Celebrity Accountancy On Ice will continue as long as there are celebrities - and ice-skating accountants – willing to fall on their arses in front of the viewing millions. Consequently, there is no reason why the show should not go on forever.

Mandatory End-of-Year Marmoset Nipple Inspection Time.

Now it just so happens that today is not quite the day for Mandatory End-of-Year Marmoset Nipple Inspection. Her Majesty's Marmoset Nipple Inspectors, however, are all poised and ready to begin investigation into any dubious claim they suspect of attempting to defraud the government of its statutory right to know the exact number of marmoset nipples currently in the country. So, if - by this time next week - if you haven't filed your form 45b, form 1290, form 2 and for this year - because this year is the Chinese year of the Marmoset - form 34356712345689d, especially sub-section 45b, c, d, and f, then you can expect a visit from H.M.M.N.I fairly soon. If - on their visit - they do discover any unclaimed marmoset nipples then you can face a fine of at least 35p and/or - depending on the severity of the offence - up to 47 minutes in prison.

Of course, many critics of the system have claimed that the revenue raised by the tax of marmoset nipples - £17.56 last year, for example - is greatly outweighed by the cost of administering it - £19.46 billion last year. But, Tentacle Brainleecher, the government's Secretary of State for Marmosets (with special Nipple Responsibility) said, in an interview in the House of Commons, "The cost is not the issue and… hey, look over there! Isn't that the MP who put his duck house on expenses?" before running away from our interviewer and hiding in the Government's private toilets.

Asked for his view, Inept Placeholder, the opposition spokesman for Marmoset Affairs said. "Er… well obviously, this government is doing everything wrong and we would do it all far better, of course. That is if the ungrateful bastard voters of this country ever actually come out and vote for us." When asked if the policy would change under their new policy initiative, he replied. "New policy? Have we got another one? Only I came in a bit late this morning… is it still the one whatshisname - the young one with the hair - announced the other day - or have we got another – newer - one?" He immediately wandered off; looking for someone who knew which policy initiative was the current one.

The Liberal Democrat Spokeswoman for Marmoset Affairs, Airyhead Inconsequence, also had something to say, but our reporting team decided they would much prefer to go home early rather than waste time bothering to interview her, or to even keep up the pretence that anything a Liberal Democrat says matters in any way.

The World’s Most Famous Pornstar

Rotorblade Trimquim first came to the world’s attention in the hardcore hot auditing action film Double-Entry Babes II, where her ability to reconcile a cash book whilst seemingly being brought to multiple orgasm by two well-oiled, well-hung studs became the most downloaded video clip on the internet last year, more popular even than the Three Kittens Who Look Slightly Like Mussolini, Hitler And Stalin Sitting In A Cardboard Box that web pundits had confidently clamed would be the most popular download in the entire history of the known universe. There is also solid evidence from doctors around the world that Trimquim’s video clip was responsible for a record number of RSI wrist injuries during that year too.

These days coming to fame – as it were – as a porn star is no longer career-limiting to the putative celebrity as it once was, in fact, now porn is regarded as only slightly more risqué than televised darts, been a porn star is seen as almost ideal (superficially slightly edgy, but in reality quite safe) chat show fodder, especially when the guest is wearing a dress she seems constantly on the edge of failing out of, and that she is capable – unlike many former porn stars - of uttering meaningful and, at least, (semi-)coherent sentences. All in all, much like any other chat show guest.