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Most of you will know that this blog is responsible for the public relations of Hovel Press, possibly the second most important imaginary publishing company so far made up.

Work goes on down in the valley- Hovel Press difficult to see

The next release for children from Hovel Press will be “The true story of how Plopington got its name”, a story of smelly Pixie justice.

Below is an extract to amuse and instruct:

At very much the same time as Tyson Smith was pooing in the toilet field and the good lady Mayor Marjorie Mulberry-Bankes was trampling on meadow flowers like a small elephant, a long thin form was emerging from behind a cement mixer in a farmer’s field at the edge of town.

Lord Drecx (full name- Hugo Defries Eugene Cassiel Lord Drecx) unfolded himself like an old-fashioned hinged ruler to his impressive full height with a little snap that set his very large nose into a little wiggle and his small pot belly into a little jiggle, but only for a moment.

He was a very tall man, who looked, and spoke, down his very large nose at people with the air of a bored headmaster addressing very naughty children. That nose was famous. It ran majestically through generations of the Drecx men clearly showing them to be superior to others .*

Note: This next bit should be read out loud with your nose stuck way up in the air and you should imagine you are speaking out of your nostrils rather than your mouth.

Did not he own the land on which he was standing now and most of the land here abouts? Was he not of noble blood? Could not he trace his family history in the area back six hundred glorious years? Was he not presently the Member of Parliament for this town and the area? Yes to all!

  Note: you can speak normally again now.

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*The legends of the feats of the Drecx noses are many. Here are just two examples from the bestselling “Putting all others in the shade- The story of the Drecx family and the achievements of their noses”, by Carstairs Nigel DeFries Montaine Lord Drecx, the 17th Earl of Roburnshire:

“It was in the year 1255 that the history of the English church was forever changed by the wondrous intervention of Charles DeFries Ignatius Boniface Abbott Lord Drecx, Abbot of Hernethail Abbey and 10th Earl of Roburnshire. As everybody knows the great debate within the church at that time was as to whether God had or had not a sense of smell. This had great bearing on the vexed question of whether or not it was a sin to fart in church. It was into this debate that the Abbott stuck, as it were, his amazing nose.

Simply by displaying the beauty and size of his own proboscis it became clear to the council of church elders that God must indeed have the most wondrous sense of smell.

Imagine the scene as the Abbot’s nose entered the council chambers, what seemed like minutes before he arrived, and he proceeded to tell all the members what they had for breakfast, the DAY BEFORE, merely by the power of his snoze.”

And from later in the same book:

“Few episodes in the amazing history of the amazing Drecx family are more glorious than the glorious tale of the Battle of Boulder’s Gorge. The hero of this tale is the sixteenth century Philip DeFries Ludo Victory General Lord Drecx, one of many very fine soldiering men in the Drecx line- all of them Generals of course.

On the 17th of February 1542 the General found his tired and hungry troops hopelessly outnumbered. The enemy were many; and they were well fed and rested. The good General Drecx’s troops were in brave retreat. They travelled through a mountain pass, the now famous Boulder’s Gorge, and from there onto low ground with the enemy hot on their heels.

Realising that his own men could go no further and showing an ability to use the landscape to his advantage which is common to all great military men, like Caesar, Napoleon, Alexander the Great and General Drecx, the great man ordered his soldiers to stop.

As men all around him fainted in fright or searched out the comfort of the latrines the General stood firm. He watched as the advancing enemy approached, full of confidence, through the mountain pass- sheer rock stretching as far as the eye could see above them on both sides- and slowly, calmly reached into the pocket of his jacket.

From this pocket he produced a small container of snuff. As the enemy reached the centre of the pass the General placed some of this snuff on his noble finger and brought it up to his mighty nose. The enemy fixed bayonets; the General inhaled- PSST..

The enemy’s fierce battle cry had only just begun when it was destroyed by the far greater sound of the General’s mighty sneeze.

The enemy stopped, thousands of soldiers stunned. A rumbling was heard from above them. All eyes turned upwards to see…The vast sides of the gorge give way and collapse down on the General’s foes.

There was a great roar as the boulders came down, then silence. The General stood in the dusty air of his victory. Those close to him hoped the dust would not cause another sneeze. That famous snuff box is still on display at Drecx Hall near Fairview-on- Sea in the county of Roburnshire.”

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Having to actually ask people to vote for him was something he didn’t really feel he should have to do (his nose was as sensitive as it was large after all) but being an MP did help with things like this- for at present he was taking this field back from the farmer and going to build houses on it. Lots of houses. It would be excellent for the town.. probably, and he would make lots and lots of money- definitely!

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